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snaileer · 1 year ago

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Wrong Number? Wrong Answer.

It was the usual deal that the Justice League Dark dealt with… way too often honestly.

Initially, it had been just Wonder Woman, investigating a cult that had attempted to abduct her earlier in the month.

Diana had defeated them. Easily. Of course. But upon questioning them, their reasoning had concerned her.

They had attacked her for a ritual to open the ‘Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep’, a ritual which required ‘a blade blackened by the ichor of time.’

Once again, she was being targeted for her parentage. Did it ever end?

Of course, she questioned them further, what other ingredients did they need, what artifacts they would be hurting others to create.

A ring carved from the bone of an unfreed slave.

A crown made of lava untouched by human hands.

And sand directly from the pouch of Dream of the Endless themself.

It was an eclectic collection of items.

And yet, they had told her that only the blade remained to be created.

Again, it was concerning.

So Diana left the fools to be taken care of by men’s authorities, and focused on tracking down just what they were doing and if necessary, how to stop it.

After depleting her academic resources, and her connections within with nothing to show, Diana finally called in her friend through the league, Zatanna.

Zatanna had been frazzled by it, showing up in her living room before they’d even finished the call.

Together they tracked down the cult to Gotham… which was also a problem.

It was the reason why Diana was running through the caves beneath the crime ridden city with one of her closest friends in men’s world and a magician by her side.

All too quickly, they were surrounded by fanatics, each carrying sharp blades solely focused on her.

Working in sync with Batman and Zatanna throwing spells above them, Diana believed it would be a well-won battle.

Until a golden light flashed across the cave, blinding her for a precious second as she felt a sharp sting cut across her arm.

When her vision cleared, her arm was dripping blood and John Constantine stood in front of her.

“Sorry about that, love,” Constantine smirks, “No harm done?”

Diana’s teeth grind together as she turns away from him, fighting her way through more followers. The one who had injured her is nowhere to be seen, and the blade with them.

Even once the rest of the swarm is beaten, their numbers no longer being replenished, Diana does not feel content. The sense of danger lingers.

“Constantine.” Batman growls, “What are you doing in Gotham?”

The Brit rolls his eyes as he lights a new cigarette, “You know I don’t actually have to tell you every time I enter the city right? But besides, that’s news to me, portals are a tricky business, I’m tracking my own problem.”

Batman glares at him.

“Someone stole from me mate. And whatever they stole it for can’t be good, so I’m here ta get it back. Thought you’d be proud of something like that, Batsy, insteada leavin’ it for someone else?”

Batman’s eyes darken, “We’re tracking a group trying to open the Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep, is your artifact related to that?”

“Fucking shit it is yeah! Bollocks I didn’t think they’d be using the dream sand for something like that, what sort of mannies are these?!” Constantine exclaims, hastily grinding his cigarette beneath his shoe.

“Hn.”

Suddenly, there’s a rattling boom, the ground and walls shaking around them as dust rains down and they are all forced into stabilizing stances.

They barely share a glance before all three are running down the hall to the source, Constantine left scrambling to keep up.

The scene they come to is equal parts confusing as it is problematic.

The cultists are each in states of disrepair, crusting on the edges or yelling at their leader. The leader is the first to notice their arrival.

“You! You say you are a child of Zeus and yet your blood does not work! You lie of your ancestry!”

Diana steps forward, “I do not! I am the daughter of Queen Hippolyta and Zeus, grandchild of Kronos! The fault of your magic does not lie with me!”

The leaders face twists, mouth open to shout, but a flash of gold slams into him.

“Z, the book!” Constantine yells, arms outstretched as he flings more spells at the surrounding people, glowing ropes binding each.

“On it! Etativel em dna eht koob!” Zatanna shouts, lifting into the air as a book the leader had been holding flies into her hands.

Immediately she begins turning pages with desperation, “Wohs em eht stsitluc lleps!”

The book flips to a distinct page, and Zatanna’s face drains of color.

“Batman, we need to be careful, this spell looks legitimate, we might still have a risk on our hands.”

Batman hummed, looking at the chalk lines of the summoning circle drawn out before them, drawing Diana to do the same. Looking closely at the artifacts placed at each cardinal direction, including a short dagger with her blood nearly completely dry on the flat of the blade.

Batman moves towards the gathered and bound cultists as both magicians whisper over the spell.

Diana continues to look out on the evidence of the ritual, confusion warring in her.

She lays a hand on the lasso at her side. She knew she had not been lying about her heritage, so then why….

‘A blade blackened by the ichor of time.’

She looks at the bloodied dagger once more. It didn’t make sense, even if they had managed to harm a godly descendent, pure ichor would be gold; and even her blood was simply a humanly deep crimson red, not black; not until it-

Diana lunges towards the knife, fingertips brushing its hilt just as her blood dries a flaky black.

Her body slams into the cave walls in the next second, percussive force rippling through the air.

She crumples to the ground, struggling to lift her head.

White boots pass in front of her eyes.

She watches as they move towards her colleague, her friend, only to be surprised as they stop in front of the cultists instead.

As the air returns to her body, Diana lifts herself up, shaking arms supporting her as the weight of the atmosphere presses down.

She looks at the being, the sight almost making her collapse once more.

Mist curls around its form like a mountain peak, iridescent light glowing near its head, pitch black night covering its body, the pinprick of stars so small you can’t see them straight on, claws like a falcon’s beak: unhidden and meant to tear apart. And more importantly, wrapped around the leaders neck.

““̵̨̮̣̀͊̓Y̷͖̊̒o̸̤͈͍͌̈́͘u̶̗̭̲̍ ̵̬̤̞̀̑ā̴̟r̸̹̝̉e̴̞̦̮͑̍ ̴̣̩̖͑̓͛a̷̮̞͍͊͆͝ ̶͍̀̈́́f̷̖̄ò̸͈̓͝ǫ̷̅̀̔l̶̹̥̹̋͌͠.̴̤̲̈́͋̀”̶̛̫̺̈́”

The voice rattles her heart within her chest. She watches as Batman continues to try and stand.

The cultist struggles against the hand, mumbling screams behind Constantine’s bind. The creature tears it off with one claw.

“We summ-moned-… the king! Pa-pariah-!“

The creatures hand barely twitches, but the cultist breaks off in a scream. She is surprised to note the other cultists react exactly alike. As if linked.

“̵̻͝Ý̷͚o̶͈͝u̷̦̐ ̶̆͜d̶͈̄ǐ̸̢d̵̲̓ ̴͖̽n̴̘̅ȯ̸͍t̵̛̯ ̴̫̐ŝ̵̗u̴̹̇m̶̨͠m̴̡̽o̴̱̐n̵̘͝ ̴̪̈h̴̨̀i̶͝ͅm̸̰͗.̴͍͆”̸͔̔ The creature growls, “À̴̳n̸̛̜d̶͒ͅ ̴̤̃y̸̬͝ǫ̸̒u̵̫͗ ̶̘͛a̴̫̐r̷̠̈e̶͂ͅ ̶͔̋ḽ̶̔ủ̷͜c̷̥̍k̴̲͊ÿ̸̯́ ̶͓́f̷͇͝o̷͎͒ŕ̴͇ ̶͔͝t̶̞̀h̸̲̉ȧ̸̮t̷̩͝.̷͔̍ ̵͙͐I̸͎͌f̶͖͛ ̶̜̇y̵̜͗o̴̩̍ṵ̶͆ ̵̫̈́h̴͛ͅā̴̼d̸̤͆…̵͍̈́i̵͍̐t̸̡̉ ̴̭͂w̷̥̔o̷̟̅u̴̪͂l̸̞̏d̵͚̀ ̵͓̃b̴̢̽e̵̗͠ ̸͕̉m̸̠͆u̶̖͘c̷̯͘h̴̤̎ ̸̥́w̷͚͝o̸͐ͅr̶̦͐s̵̨̿e̸͕͆ ̸̙̑f̴̧̂o̶̱̓ȓ̷̟ ̴̠͗ÿ̸̥́ö̵͜ŭ̶̟.̵͎̉”̶͍̀

The man whimpers under the claws.

"I̴n̷s̵t̴e̷a̵d̸,̶ ̵y̸o̷u̵ ̴g̵o̷t̶ ̷m̸e̸,̴I̴ ̶g̵u̸a̷r̶d̴ ̶h̶i̷s̵ ̶p̸r̸i̵s̵o̵n̶ ̶b̶e̷c̴a̷u̴s̶e̸ ̵I w̴a̸s̴ ̵t̴h̸e̷ ̸o̴n̸e̴ ̷t̸o̶ ̶p̵u̴t̵ ̴h̸i̴m̶ ̵t̴h̷e̸r̶e̴ ̵o̶n̵c̸e̵ ̶m̶o̸r̸e̸.̵”̴ The creature leans into the cultist, arching ever higher, angles sharpening, body distorting, "“̸̝͋a̵̱͋n̶͓͛d̵̘́ ̵̡̍f̷̱͊o̵͚̓r̷̪̎ ̴̭̑a̷̬̓s̷͙̅ ̷͍͌ĺ̵̫o̸̻͆ņ̵̀g̶̚ͅ ̷̬͌a̶̮̿s̵̩͊ ̸̫̌t̸̲̕h̸̢̉e̷̖͗ ̴̰̋c̸̹̀ȍ̸͎s̷̡̃m̵̥̍o̷̜͋s̷̗͐ ̴̜͆e̷̛̙x̸͓̑i̶͉̿s̸̹̀t̵̛̺,̴̡͠Í̷̢ ̷̣̽w̵̠͋i̶̺͒l̴̠͐l̸̮̃ ̴͍͌k̴̰̑e̸̠͐e̷̟͋p̵̲̏ ̸̙̂h̷̘͋ị̸́m̸͕̚ ̶̳̋t̶̡̒h̷̩͆e̷̪͝r̷̒͜e̵̡̔.̵̭͗”̵̮̔

There’s a dull flash as light flashes beneath the cultists skin, beneath all of the cultist’s skin, before they drop to the ground unconscious.

All too quickly, air returns to the room, pressure lifting like a deep breath into the room.

The creature turns, eyes meeting Diana’s for just a second as he turns towards the chalked lines of the circle. Diana lifts herself to her feet, drawing closer to Batman as they both watch him, hesitant.

On the other side of the room, Constantine and Zatanna also struggle to their feet, eyes filled with fear and caution as they take in the scene.

As the creature moves, mist still rolling off him in waves, his features fall away with it, gradually smoothing to a more human visage. It looks… young. Boyish.

Those same white boots crush down on the formed crown, the cooled lava rock crumbling under one step. Next is the ring, held carefully in two hands the creature whispers over it, breathy wind carrying it away as it turns to dust. He holds the blade with one hand, flakes disintegrating off as he lifts it.

Diana’s arm tingles.

Then the creature is standing in front of the last point, holding the small brown pouch of sand with consideration.

Silence reigns in the room.

Constantine, of course, is the one to break it.

“I believe that’s mine, mate,” he cuts in, stance still laden with suspicion.

“Oh?” The creature smiles, almost mockingly as he turns to Constantine, “Is it? If I wasn’t mistaken, this ritual calls for Dream’s sand. Are you Dream of the Endless, little magician?”

Constantine visibly swallows, “I’m not.”

The creature huffs a laugh, fangs glinting in his smirk. He moves swiftly, pivoting on one foot to toss the pouch at Constantine, “Catch.”

Constantine lurches forward to try and catch it, only to find it vanish in the air before it reaches his fingers.

The creature cackles, floating backwards, “What did you do to get your hands on such an amount of Dream’s sand, magician? I’m curious.”

“It was a family present,” Constantine grinds out as he turns back to the gently levitating humanoid form, “You can drop the kid facade by the way, you’re not tricking anyone here looking like that.”

The creature shrugs, “And if I’m comfortable like this?”

Diana steps in to stop Constantine from snapping back, “Who are you, spirit, to be summoned by such a ritual?”

The creature watches her for a beat, “I am Phantom of the Dead City, Protector of infinite realms. They did not bring me here, but I knew who they wished to summon and came because of it.”

Batman steps forward, voice interrogating, “The Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep-“

“Remains sealed. The Tyrant King remains trapped and at rest, do not worry.”

Somehow Diana does not think that soothes Batman, even as a great a warrior as he is.

“Hn.”

“Now, about that spell book,” Phantom turns to Zatanna, waving a hand and the book flies to him. He hovers a hand over it, and Diana watches in fascination as the chalk on the floor begins to burn away, the drawing in the book following.

Phantom looks at her once more, eyes too wise and strong for the age of his face, and then from one moment to the next, he is gone.

The book drops to the floor with a slam, cover open to aged blank pages as the last of the sigil burns away.

Hesitantly, Constantine goes to it, the rest of them following. When Constantine lifts the book with careful hands, they watch another image fade into view on the paper.

A cool colored image of Phantom rising over a city skyline outlined in green against a deep violet sky. Even on paper, his visage shifts constantly between the boyish figure and the ethereal danger of the form he’d appeared in.

Beneath the city lays a large coffin covered in chains.

The lock glows a pulsing toxic green before fading to a steely gunmetal grey and going still.

“Well that was the best encounter I’ve had with a dangerous dimensional figure and I still lost the dream sand.”

Zatanna’s slap echoes in the cave.

#batman #danny phantom #batfam #dc #danny fenton #batman and robin #danny phantom crossover #young justice #bruce wayne #wonder woman #dpxdc #cryptid Danny fenton #John Constantine #Zatanna Zatara #dpdc #dp

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ellecdc · 29 days ago

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the basilisk and me

Sirius Black x fem!reader who is hallucinating [979 words]

CW: hallucinations, reader is in hospital, post first wizarding war, suggested and implied PTSD, anxiety/panic attack, based off of this prompt/idea, high stakes hurt/comfort A/N: ok first attempt at this kind of vibe so hopefully it's not complete shit

Sirius tried to stamp down on the fury threatening to take over as he walked as fast as socially acceptable through the hospital corridors. He promised you he’d be here today; the same time as he was the day before, and all the days before that since you’d been rescued following the end of the war from the Death Eater’s hideout.

He kept that promise, but you wouldn’t know that thanks to the security personnel who spent the past twenty plus minutes arguing with Sirius about whether or not he was authorised to visit you.

There were only four people authorised to visit you, one of them was Sirius Black; Sirius Black who had been here yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that, etcetera. At the same time, every day; Sirius was here. You needed him here.

And he needed to be here; twenty plus minutes ago.

Any relief he felt at the sight of your room vanished at the sound of your gut wrenching sobs, a shout, and the clattering of furniture.

Officially forgoing social acceptability, Sirius broke out into a sprint before all but barreling into your hospital room.

There were two mediwix closing in on you with three security personnel flanking them; all of their wands drawn as your wild eyes split your attention between the people circling you, anything in your room that you might be able to use to your advantage, and - apparently - the empty corner of the room.

“Get away from me!” You screeched before dodging behind a table tray meant for meals just as a purple spell left the tip of one of the mediwix’s wand.

“What is going on!?” Sirius barked, making to step further into the room as one of the security-wix stepped in front of him.

“You can’t be here.” They stated simply; gesturing towards the door as if that would simply be the end of it.

“Would you fucker’s stop trying to tell me that!?” He all but bellowed before shoving past him to grab - rather roughly, looking back at it now - the one mediwitch he was familiar with who turned towards him with a look akin to relief.

“What is going on?” He tried again.

“She’s hallucinating; woke up screeching that there was a basilisk in the room trying to kill her. When we tried to offer her a calming draught, she started accusing us all of trying to poison her."

"And you're...?" Sirius started bemusedly. "Firing hexes at her?"

"Mr. Black-"

“Don’t call me that.”

“She needs to be stupefied.”

“The last thing she needs is more violence.” He growled in response before shoving past her and pointing his back to the four wands still aimed at you.

“Hey, baby hey. Hey hey hey, whoa, whoa.” Sirius started as he crouched down in front of you, listening to the way your shrieks and wails quieted to pitiful hiccups and sobs. “Hey, doll; hey. Easy, love, come now.”

“St- Stop, no.” You shook your head, eyes glued to a point across the room. “Stay… stay away from me.”

“It’s me, doll. It’s me; it’s Sirius, yeah? Come on, babygirl, look at me.”

"No..."

"It's me, doll." He repeated.

“Sirius.” You keened as he took your face between his hands; tears pouring a steady stream over the apples of your cheeks as you kept your gaze locked on an invisible threat that only you could see.

You didn’t pull away from his grasp, though; trembling hands landing near gently around his wrists. Your knuckles were close to white as the joints threatened to push through the dry and cracked skin of your hands even though your grip never strengthened on him.

Sirius’ heart ached for you.

“Look at me, baby. Come on.”

“I’m scared.” You whispered; breath hitching as you managed to make the briefest eye contact with your boyfriend before your eyes darted back to the corner of your room.

“I know, love. I know.” Sirius agreed, moving to his knees and tucking his feet underneath him before pressing his forehead to yours; his thumbs sweeping methodically over the highs of your cheeks as he kept his gaze on you. “I know; it’s okay.”

“But the-”

“It’s okay; just look at me until it goes away, okay?”

Sirius’ heart didn’t return to its normal cadence until your blinks started to slow - time stretching between each heavy blink - as you tried your best to keep your gaze dutifully on Sirius.

“Why don’t we get you to bed, hm?” Sirius whispered after a period of time, feeling wretched at the way your body tensed and your eyes started darting around again.

“But, the-”

“Can you still see it, dolly?” He asked kindly, quietly; allowing you some space to crane your head and get a good lay of the room that saw only one mediwix and one security personnel present after the ordeal.

“Uhm,” you let out with a nervous woosh, breaths threatening to speed back up at having lost track of your threat, “no…no, but…”

“Let’s get you to bed, and I’ll keep watch, okay?” He offered, beginning to stand before you had a chance to think too hard on his offer as you obliged Sirius, allowing him to guide you to your hospital bed.

Sirius was just pulling the thin blanket over your form when you grabbed him by the wrist.

“Will you stay with me?” You blurted, turning bashful as you added a timid “Please?”

“Of course, my love.” He agreed quickly, shucking off his boots and sliding under the thin sheets beside you. “How else would I keep watch, hm?”

And if the mediwix took issue with Sirius being there, they didn’t dare mention it; quietly working around the two figures in the bed as they cleaned up the various pieces of furniture you’d used to defend yourself whilst Sirius kept watch for any threats - visible or invisible, real or imagined - that might deign to disturb your peace.

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hyewka · 5 months ago

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warnings: infidelity, dom!beomgyu, best friend gyu, dubcon, not proofread

he pouts, his face contorting into a childish display of temper as he lightly kisses your neck. “look what you do to me, baby…” he whines, grinding against you rougher, his cock fully hard now. “could fuck you right here right now... i know you want it too,”

you try to resist him, try to get the feeling building up between your thighs out of your head. this was wrong. thats what clicks for you. “no, no…stop, you know i-"

he hums, his fingers teasing the waistband of your panties. "you want me to rip these off and fuck you right here... don’t you want to feel my cock inside you?” he nibbles at your earlobe.

ever since you got finally got together with taehyun, attempting to completely abandon your unrequited yearning for your best friend, he had suddenly gotten more and more touchy with you which had eventually lead you having sex with him after you had your very first fight with your boyfriend. it was all you had hoped for…aside from the fact that you were committed to another.

when you had seen taehyun the next day, the guilt swallowed you whole, you couldn’t even look him in the eye. then days turned into weeks, and the feeling had eventually passed over until you could push it in the back of your head and pretend it never happened…but beomgyu doesn’t make it easy.

see, ever since that night he’d been trying to get you back in his bed. hes managed to have you cum on his fingers multiple times and had even convinced you somehow to get on your knees for him. each time you’d tell yourself that you hadnt had sex so it…technically wasn’t cheating, it was all you could hold on to without feeling like shit whenever you cuddled up with taehyun late at night.

the worst thing is, hes never shown you any hint of lust before you started dating, so it only throws you off when you spend sleepless nights deeply pondering on his behavior.

but what use does that do when you’ve made the mistake of letting him hang out at your house again knowing how he gets? he’s completely insatiable the moment he walks in, kissing you all over.

“baby?” he calls out and you shiver, the feelings you’ve built for him for years threatening to spill out your throat just at the simple petname hes learnt to latch onto over times you spend together like this. you can’t give in, not again. you swallow hard and shake your head, trying to keep your resolve.

“i’m loyal to taehyun, i’m not making this.. mistake again.” you say firmly, or as firmly as you’re able to make it sound. “i need you to respect our relationship or our friendship’s done.”

he laughs, a dark, twisted sound. "loyal? to him? now you decide to be loyal?”

you stand your ground even though every part of you wants to crumble. “y-you took advantage of my vulnerability and had sex with me, i didn’t mean to betray his trust. but i’m ready to move past all of this and-"

suddenly, his grip on you tightens. “what about all the other times after that? y’know, when your mouth was stuffed with my cock?”

you squeeze your eyes shut in regret the moment the memories come rushing in. he continues, leaning in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “don’t make me out to be the bad guy. i know you want me. i know you really love me.”

your heart stops, his words hitting you like a physical blow. you open your eyes, meeting his gaze with a mixture of disbelief and horror. “what?”

his expression softens slightly, but there’s a determined glint in his eyes. “you heard me. you can’t deny it. all those times, it wasn’t just lust.”

you shake your head, struggling to find your voice. “no, you’re wrong. i love taehyun. i can’t… i won’t do this anymore.”

“you’re lying to yourself. he can't satisfy you like i can... he doesn't understand you like i do...” he trails off, testing your buttons. it’s like you’re under a spell the more he talks, pushing his fingers beneath your panties, his breath getting heavier. “you crave this... you crave me, don’t you?”

#🌷. rana thoughts #toxic gyu while i try to power through editing

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tfboyzblog · 7 months ago

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Mikey couldn’t believe it was working. That old spell book in his grandfather’s chest was for real. Holding Saul’s hand, he could feel a strange energy fill his body.

“Holy shit lil’ dude” the older boy exclaimed. “Look at you!”

Mike glanced to the side where he had his mirror and look at his reflection in shock. He was rapidly growing, almost reaching Saul’s height as a senior. His shirt felt increasingly constrictive as his arms bulged, chest muscles began to push the fabric, back widened. Take off the glasses and ditch the button-up and he could pass as part of the swimming team, or maybe the soccer team...

“Wow...” was all he could muster in his new, slightly huskier voice.

“Bro...” Saul nudged him, but the boy was too enraptured in his marvelous growth to notice the older boy begin to dwindle in height and lose much of his size.

“Bro! I think you’re good for now! Let go!” Saul called louder this time, using his free arm to pull off Mikey’s hand from his own.

“Oh!” Mikey exclaimed as he came to himself. “I’m sorry! I was so...” he began to mutter as his eyes went back to the mirror and his improved form “-amazed...” he concluded as he tried to move around in his too-small clothes.

“Yeah... I noticed...” Saul commented in an annoyed tone as he lifted his arms to see how baggy his shirt was now. He silently appreciated the belt holding up his shorts. “Anymore and I’d come out of this looking like a middle schooler... “

Mikey looked at his friend, noticing how they practically saw eye to eye now, but the bulk and size the eighteen-year-old had before were gone. He’d still pass for a senior, maybe a junior, but a more average looking one now.

He smirked. “Nah! You’re still a big boy.” He playfully patted him on the shoulder. “Besides, you’d probably be a cute middle schooler anyway.” He commented.

“Don’t get any ideas, Mikey!” He pointed at Mike. “Don’t make me regret this!”

Mikey nodded. “Don’t worry! I promise I won’t.” He hugged his friend, feeling the new power in his arms. If he wanted, he thought, he could hold Saul like that with minimal effort. It felt good. During his strong hug he could swear he felt a poke against his leg, but as he let go, he could see nothing out of the ordinary, aside from what could be a slight blush on Saul’s heavy tanned skin.

“Thank you! I mean it!” Mikey said. “I just need to stop being kicked around by Hank and his imbecile posse. And now,” he attempted to flex a bicep, but stopping as soon as he started hearing a tear in the fabric “I can! And all thanks to you.”

“Yeah yeah! I know I’m awesome!” Saul waved. “Just give me back my...” he looked up and down to the burgeoning athlete in dork clothes “you know, everything, next week. That should be enough...”

“Don’t worry.” Mike said with a wink. “I’ll put your... everything to good use!”

Saul left soon after and Mikey thanked the heavens. He couldn’t stand in these terribly tight clothes anymore! His shirt, his socks, but more urgent yet, his underwear.

Taking off his button shirt with effort, Mikey was in awe of his new sculpted pecs protruding from his chest, he caressed them and followed down to an immaculate row of abs connecting to his waist. He pulled off the trousers, that now looked like they were close to tearing at the seams. His legs were wide and powerful. His feet looked bigger, even. And gazing up he stopped at his poor white briefs, pushing and compressing an impressive bulge.

“Wow...” He moaned. “I guess I got some of Saul’s ‘other’ size too...” He thought as he pulled down the last piece of constrictive clothes. A long, girthy semi erect dick whipped out of the small nerdy briefs. “I must be, like... 7 inches now!” Mikey said, grabbing his newly improved fuckstick. It felt heavy in his hand, being accustomed to his 4 incher. “Poor Saul.” He thought, making a note to return him his size as soon as he could.

“But for now...” He smirked and flexed his huge biceps. His dick twitched at the sight. “I want to enjoy the ride.”

Saul was getting restless. The week was almost over and not a word for his neighbor. Mikey was always a good kid, and he was tired of hearing how he was constantly getting bullied by some idiot jocks...

He looked at his mirror. He missed his muscles and the size he used to carry, but he couldn’t help thinking how he kinda looked cuter with a bit less meat in his bones, more of an average but still charming high school boy. He felt a tingle in his lower area, making him rethink all of that. If he knew Mikey’s weird spell would also drain away his size down there, he’d probably reconsider being a donor. Even in his boxers, there was hardly any bump in the front. His healthy looking 6 incher, now closer to 4, at most...

Suddenly there was a strong knock at the door.

Mikey! It had to be him!

Saul flew down the stairs, only in a baggy t-shirt and boxers. He wasn’t prepared for who was waiting on the other side of the door.

A hulking muscular beast walked in. “Hey there little dude.” He said in a deep voice as he looked down at Saul. “Did you get smaller since I last see you?”

“Mikey?” Saul asked incredulous. This muscle god was at least 7 feet tall by now, his massive chest barely covered by a tank top, strong thick arms stretched behind his head exposing a pair of sweaty and moderately hairy pits. The monster smirked at Saul, and it was clear it was his friend’s face. More masculine, more defined, perfect skin instead of the normal zits, a killer smile...

“I go by Mike now. Mikey was giving people the impression I was some tiny nerd or something.” He brings one of his arms down and casually adjusts his crotch. “And there’s nothing tiny here, right?” He laughs.

Saul could see the outline of the massive snake in his underwear, easily spotted in all its thick glory even through the sweatpants Mike was wearing.

“What...what happened? You were like...not half as big last week.” Saul asked the giant teen boy.

“Well, it was all thanks to you, buddy!” He said as he walked towards Saul and grabbed him in a strong hug. Saul’s head resting against the boy’s giant pec. He suddenly felt inundated by the smell coming from his arms. Saul’s head started swimming and a tingle made his dick twitch.

“You should’ve seen Hank’s face!” Mike laughed and let go of Saul, walking towards the living room and sitting in the sofa, legs wide apart. “When he saw I was as tall as him and was like, as jacked as him, I think he shat his pants. For the first day in my high school life, they left me alone. I couldn’t believe it was that easy!”

“That’s great! But then-” Saul tried to speak.

“I wasn’t done speaking, bro.” Mike interrupted, in a calm, but authoritative way. His voice caused a tingle to spread down Saul’s spine and into his lower area.

“Well, you won’t believe what those pussies tried next!” He continued, now in a friendlier tone. Saul, however, couldn’t shake off the force the boy exuded and the respect he commanded with a simple sentence. He stood in front of the huge teen as he stretched on the couch.

“They waited for me outside the school the next day. Waited for me to be alone and then Hank grabbed me and dragged me to old warehouse. I guess he thought he couldn’t put me in my place alone now, so he wanted to gang up on me where no one could see. Can you imagine though? How could those losers ever think my place was beneath them?” He laughed at the notion.

“And wasn’t he surprised when he noticed my shoulders were too wide for him to grab me like that. And weren’t his friends shocked when he let go of me and was just a skinny brat. You should’ve seen his face. Wait. You can actually see it. I took pictures.” Mike said, picking his phone from his pocket. Turning the screen to Saul, the awe-struck boy could see a kid looking no older than 12, swimming in his oversized clothes, looking up in shock.

“Glad I remembered grandad’s spell, eh?” He winked at Saul, who nodded, not wanting to interrupt his friend again.

“Well, after the brat was taken care of, his friends were easy pickings, to be honest. With every bit of muscle I took, I took ability, masculinity, everything that made them jocks. They had nowhere to run, and I took it all.” He laughed.

“So, what do you think lil’ bro?” Mike smirked at Saul as he flexed his gigantic biceps.

Saul dry swallowed. What did he think. Right in front of him was the biggest 15-year-old in the world, most likely. He exuded power and masculinity. He fumbled for words. He felt butterflies in his stomach and the tingling in his dick was stronger than ever. Not just his dick, either. He felt a yearning, inside...

“Mike-” he almost used his old nickname. “That’s insane. You’re like, bodybuilder huge!”

“I know, right? Pretty sick!” He guffawed. “Didn’t feel the need to drain them as much as Hanky boy, but they’re pretty much nobodies now. Horny submissive nobodies, actually.” Saul was shook. “They can’t seem to quit my dick, now.”

“But then again.” Mike grabbed a handful of cock “I got about four jocks worth of testosterone and musk so...” He looked suggestively at Saul “who would be able to...”

Saul tried to repress the growing feeling inside him. “But your folks? I live right next door and saw nothing different. No one was surprised about this much growth?” He tried to change the subject.

“Oh that!” Mike waved. “Another one of grandad’s spells. Basically, it normalized things. If you’re outside the spell, that’s how things always were. Kids at school all think that this is how I always looked. Well except for Hanky boy and the bottom bunch. Even if they wanted to tell someone what happened no one would believe them. I think they like knowing their muscles made me this huge, and if they don’t, they should. But yeah, since you were outside that spell it probably, sorta normalized things for you too...”

Saul just nodded. It made sense. Even though his head was spinning from all this information and the increasing muskiness in the room.

“So yeah. It’s all thanks to you, lil’ buddy!” Mike reached in front and grabbed Saul until the smaller 18-year-old was straddling his huge quad. Mike’s strong arms surrounded the boy and hugged him tightly. Saul couldn’t help himself but sitting on his friend's leg and putting his hands on his muscular body.

“I came over to honor my end of the deal. Give you back your muscle. Your height. A few inches down there...” he chuckled. “Unless you don’t want me to.”

Saul looked shockingly into his friend’s eyes, still holding to his pecs and shoulders. How could he think that was the case. For an entire week he’s been forced to live without his hard-earned physique. It’s not like it’s that bad, and he had to admit he fit real comfortably on Mike’s lap like that, but still...

“Unless you want me to keep them. Keep looking like this.” He spoke softly, in a voice that twisted his thoughts.

“I think that’s what you want.” He chuckled softly; poking Saul’s modest but raging boner. A large wet spot already had formed on the front of his boxers. “And if that’s the case, I’m sure I can pay you back some other way.” Mike’s big meaty hand slid down Saul’s slender back until it found his supple ass. Saul yelped as the hand caressed his backside. “I’ll make sure to give it all to you. Again, and again...” He whispered at his ear.

“But you have to be the one to say so.” He continued. “So, what will it be?”

Saul still looked at his friend’s eyes, his hands wandered freely on Mike’s massive chest. He couldn’t think straight, and the yearning inside grew and grew until he finally admitted to himself what it really was.

He wanted this muscle god inside him. He knew he’d gladly give all his muscle, all his masculinity, just to be owned by this perfect specimen. No matter how many others there were; to know he was Mike’s. To be used as he saw fit. Saul could only hope he was able to give more to this example of athletic perfection. More of his height, so he’d be smaller, and Mike could manhandle him with even more ease, more of his dick and balls, now useless for Mike’s intended purpose, so he could add more to the python and orange sized balls his former nerd friend now had.

And as he imagined that and he became even more hungry for cock, Saul felt himself sink deeper, fit even more snugly in Mike’s embrace. He could feel the teenage titan stretch a bit more; his spine extend a couple more inches; his frame swell with some more pounds of muscle...

Saul looked up at Mike and approached his mouth to his, still afraid to make any noise, and meekly nodded. After all, the choice was obvious.

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

Well this has been my first "longer" story and the first experiment in making stories without a picture for inspiration and instead drawing random themes from a choice wheel. This time the themes were Muscle Theft and Corruption ;)

The AI picture is just meant as a placeholder for now, as I haven't found a appropriate picture for it ( and I know you pervs prefer TF stories with pictures). I invite people to submit pictures to accompany this story. And finally, if you have suggestions of other places I could post my longer stories from now on, please let me know!!

#muscle growth tf #male tf #muscle growth story #tf story #nerdtojock #nerd to hunk #jock transformation #reality change #male transformation #male tf story #muscle theft #teen muscle #teen bodybuilder #corruption #personality change #jock to nerd

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iris-qt · 25 days ago

Text

𝙾𝚗𝚎 𝙿𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎

"I have never tolerated someone for so long~..."

ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴏ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

❆ ʙɢ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ: ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ!

❆ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ | 3.3ᴋ

❆ ᴀ/ɴ: ɴᴏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢʀᴜᴇʟɪɴɢ ᴀꜱꜱɪɢɴᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ! ꜱᴏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴꜱ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪᴄ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ

❆ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɴɴᴜᴀʟ ᴍɪɴɪꜱᴛʀʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ ʜᴏʟɪᴅᴀʏ ʙᴀʟʟ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴀ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴏ ʀ��ᴅᴅʟᴇ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴛᴀɴᴛʟʏ ᴘʀᴀɴᴋ ᴅᴇꜱᴇʀᴠɪɴɢ ᴘᴀʀᴛʏɢᴏ��ʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ʏᴇᴀʀ, ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴛᴏᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴀɴᴋꜱ, ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴛᴏ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ'ꜱ ᴄʜᴀɢʀɪɴ. ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴏ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴅᴏ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʜᴇ ᴄᴀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋ.

It was the annual Ministry of Magic Holiday Ball.

The one with glittering golden candles that were nearly blinding, the air thick with the scent of mulled wine and enchanted pine.

The one that always ended with your father lecturing you as you bit your lip, trying not to burst out laughing at the ridiculous faces Mattheo Riddle would make behind your father’s angry figure.

Indeed, the merry attendees of the annual bash hated to see you and Mattheo walk in, for that instantly spelled mischief with a capital M(attheo).

This year, however, you had resolved to be the mature and elegant woman your parents begged you to be every year. This year, you were almost of age. And maybe it was time to get your act together. Call it an early New Years resolution, if you will.

And so here you were, sitting up pin straight in the enchanted carriage that stopped in front of the grand marble venue the Ministry had booked for the party. After your mother fixed every stray hair on your head, you walked in, heads donned with ridiculous Christmas hats turning to praise your elegant stride. Nothing could get in your way. Well…

“Enchanté, mademoiselle y/l/n.”

Mattheo Riddle slid in front of you with his sleek black shoes, bowing down and holding out his hand as he looked up with his shit-eating grin.

You take a deep breath fighting the urge to roll your eyes as you slip your hand into his, watching him press a soft kiss onto it, never breaking eye contact. Yeah, those eyes were as black as his cold little heart.

You sniff pretentiously, snatching your hand away quickly as he stands up, looking down at you with a knowing, cocky expression, eyes scanning every inch of your appearance.

“Since when did you know French,” you scoff, folding your arms and raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow.

“I mean, I heard it’s the language of love,” he winks, intertwining his arm with yours as he leads you to the drink bar. “And love seems to be in the air,” he snickers, cocking his head towards Draco Malfoy and a girl he was attempting to charm.

“A very one-sided love apparently,” you snort, watching as the girl rolls her eyes and walks off with a disgusted scrunch of her nose. “Another one bites the dust.”

“Yeah, maybe we should cross Draco off the victim list this year. Poor lad’s been through it,” Mattheo pulls out a crumpled piece of parchment with a list of names, scanning it.

You shake your head, plucking the sheet from his hand and examining it.

“What is this? Your hit list?” you snort. “I, for one, am very in favor of taking out Umbridge,” you tap her name on the page with a smirk.

“Oh, don’t you worry. I have a sick trick planned for that hag,” Mattheo grins, eyes lighting up at the thought of causing chaos and suffering. “Alright, here’s what your job is-”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” you stop him, finger to his lips, frowning. “I told you I won’t be your accomplice this year.”

“Aw, c’mon, y/l/n. You didn’t mean that,” he grins, licking the finger you have held up against his lips.

You let out a disgusted sound as you wipe your finger on his suit, not surprised at his random antics.

“Listen. You may not understand the concept, but I’ve grown up now. I’m mature.” You tilt your chin up for dramatic effect. “Therefore, I shall not be partaking in your party escapades.”

“I wasn’t aware being mature meant you have to talk like pretentious Professor Snape,” Mattheo snickered as he popped an hors d'oeuvre into his mouth.

You hit his arm with your clutch, gritting your teeth. Yeah, you were on your last leg.

“The point is. You’re on your own this year, Riddle,” you gave him a last, pointed look before walking away to find your parents.

Riddle chuckled under his breath, watching you leave as he downed a flute of champagne in one go.

“Oh we’ll see about that,” he muttered, placing his empty glass on a server’s tray before walking off.

Mattheo Riddle knew you were just like him when it came to a good prank. It’s one of the things he adored about you..

And in the spirit of adoration and holiday spirits, Riddle swore to himself he’d make you crack before the ball ended at midnight. Chip away at your composure little by little. And have you back to his side as his pretty little accomplice before his final, brutal prank of the night.

8:00 p.m. PRANK #1: The Enchanted Snowstorm

Riddle knew he had to start with a bit of a bang.

And if that meant pranking his lovely ex-accomplice as a form of punishment for thinking she could leave him behind on his favorite night of the year, then so be it. Riddle looked forward to the Ministry of Magic Holiday Ball every year for one reason: it was when you let loose and showed off your evil side, free from the gripping stress of schoolwork that always kept you uptight.

You were the mastermind behind the most foul pranks they’d ever played. The one where you turned an old pure-blood-enthusiast into a hog. Or when you’d sent a boggart after the old Minister wizard that frequently denied witches powerful places in the ministry.

Oh, he was determined to get you back and impress you with the pranks he’d been planning and preparing for all year.

Little did he know you looked forward to these balls just as often as him

Mattheo’s first prank needed to be light, clever, and just enough to make you react without jeopardizing your mature facade. Spotting you standing near your parents by the refreshment table, he smirked.

With a subtle flick of his wand from across the room, he enchanted the mistletoe above your head. Instead of remaining stationary, the mistletoe swirled and began to emit a gentle cascade of enchanted snowflakes: only over you.

At first, it was subtle and charming, just enough for onlookers to chuckle and comment on how festive it was. But as the snow began to intensify, it became impossible to ignore. The flakes started sticking to your perfectly styled hair, smudging the edges of your mascara, and chilling the tip of your nose. Your parents made awkward excuses as they stepped away from the sudden snowstorm, leaving you flustered and fuming.

Across the room, Mattheo leaned casually against the drink bar, toasting you with his champagne flute and giving you a cheeky wink. The message was clear: Still think you can outgrow me?

You purse your lips, brushing snow from your shoulders as you shoot him a glare. Determined not to let him win, you grabbed a napkin and coolly dabbed at your hair, forcing a serene smile onto your face as you joined a conversation nearby, sending a spell to dissipate the cloud of snow.

But Mattheo Riddle wasn’t done. Not even close.

9:00 p.m. PRANK #2: The Exploding Eggnog Fountain

The eggnog fountain at the refreshment table was a centerpiece of the Ministry’s holiday bash: a golden cascade of enchanted eggnog that refilled itself endlessly. Perfect, Mattheo thought, for a little festive chaos.

“Y/l/n,” Mattheo sidled up to you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he offered you a drink. “I need your expert opinion on something.”

You narrowed your eyes, wary. “What now? Come to pelt charmed snowballs at me?”

He ignores the quip, gesturing toward the fountain. “Imagine this: we modify the enchantment. Just a tiny tweak, nothing big. Instead of pouring a stream, the fountain… spurts. Right into the faces of our dear Ministry elites.”

He tilted his head toward a cluster of senior wizards by the table, including a pompous Mr. Cuffe, the Daily Prophet editor known for his grating laugh.

You bit your lip, fighting the instinct to laugh as you imagined it. “Mattheo,” you said with exaggerated patience, “what part of mature didn’t you understand?”

“Ah, but hear me out!” he interrupted, leaning in conspiratorially. “We don’t do it to everyone. Just the ones who deserve it. Like Cuffe. Remember his article that called Hogwarts students ‘unruly hooligans’ last year?”

You crossed your arms, pretending disinterest, but the corners of your lips twitched. “Tempting, but no.”

Mattheo grinned. He knew he had you hooked, even if you wouldn’t admit it. With a sly glance at the fountain, he flicked his wand behind his back, muttering a quiet incantation. The golden stream of eggnog shimmered briefly, unnoticed by the crowd.

“Suit yourself,” he said, stepping back to watch.

Moments later, Mr. Cuffe stepped up to the fountain with a goblet, puffing his chest importantly. As he tilted the goblet beneath the stream, the fountain let out a dramatic splurt. A geyser of eggnog shot upward, drenching him from head to toe in sticky, golden liquid.

The room went silent for a beat before bursting into laughter. Cuffe sputtered indignantly, his face turning as red as the poinsettias in the decor.

You pressed your lips together, trying to maintain your composure, but the sight of Mattheo biting back his laughter and raising an eyebrow in your direction nearly broke you.

“I’m not laughing,” you whispered through gritted teeth.

“Oh, sure,” Mattheo smirked, leaning closer. “You’re just appreciating my genius. Admit it. You miss being part of this.”

You shot him a withering glare, though your shoulders shook with barely contained laughter. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re lying to yourself,” he quipped, walking off to plan his next move.

10:00 p.m. PRANK #3: The Name Tag Switch-Up

The banquet hall gleamed with floating golden place cards, each enchanted to guide guests to their assigned seats at the long, elegantly set tables. Mattheo, of course, couldn’t resist tampering with the arrangement.

He leaned casually against a column near the seating chart, pretending to inspect it. When he spotted his target: a trio with a tangled web of animosity. He grinned.

Target #1: Penelope Clearwater, known for her sharp tongue and grudge-holding tendencies.

Target #2: Adrian Pucey, her ex-boyfriend, who had unceremoniously dumped her.

Target #3: Daphne Greengrass, the reason for the breakup.

With a sly flick of his wand, Mattheo swapped their assigned places. Now, Adrian and Penelope would find themselves sitting side-by-side…with Daphne planted awkwardly between them.

Mattheo spotted you nearby, scanning the room. Perfect timing.

“Y/l/n,” he called, sauntering up with his signature smirk. “You’re going to love this.”

“Doubt it,” you replied flatly, though you paused, curiosity piqued.

He motioned toward the banquet table. “Imagine this: Penelope, Adrian, Daphne. Side by side. Tension thicker than Snape’s hair gel.” He mimed a dramatic explosion. “All we have to do is sit back and watch the fireworks.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help asking, “Why would you even bother?”

He shrugged, feigning innocence. “Holiday spirit. Bringing people together and all that.”

Before you could protest, the guests began finding their seats. The moment Adrian and Penelope realized they were seated next to each other, their faces contorted in synchronized horror. Daphne’s arrival only made things worse; she froze in place, clearly considering whether to flee or fight.

You stood by the edge of the room, arms crossed, trying not to look too invested. Mattheo sidled up beside you, watching the drama unfold.

Adrian stammered something about moving seats, but Penelope snapped, “Oh, no. Stay. I insist.” Her tone dripped with venom, and Adrian visibly shrank into his chair.

Meanwhile, Daphne sat stiffly, her eyes darting between the two like a spectator at a particularly hostile Quidditch match. The trio descended into an awkward, tension-laden silence punctuated by biting comments and passive-aggressive jabs.

You shook your head, lips twitching. “You’re insufferable, Riddle. And childish.”

“True,” Mattheo agreed, grinning shamelessly. “But admit it. That was a masterpiece.”

Despite your best efforts, a small laugh escaped you. “Fine. A tiny masterpiece. But you’re still on your own.”

“We’ll see about that,” he teased, his grin widening. As the exes’ tension reached a fever pitch, he leaned closer and whispered, “Ready for the grand finale?”

11:00 p.m. The Grande Finale: The Umbridge Special

The final prank of the night had to be legendary—something so outrageous it would go down in Ministry holiday party history. And for Mattheo, there was no better target than Dolores Umbridge, the pink-clad, cat-obsessed tyrant who still held a high-ranking position in the Ministry.

It started with Mattheo cornering you near the dessert table, his grin so wide it bordered on maniacal. “Alright, y/l/n, I’ve saved the best for last. And I need you for this one.”

You almost choked on your sticky pudding at his sudden appearance. You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Why do I feel like I’m about to regret this?”

“Because you might. But trust me, it’s worth it.”

He leaned in, whispering his plan in your ear. The moment he said the words Enchanted Cat Choir, you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out. You quickly disguised it as a cough, but Mattheo caught it.

“I knew you’d crack,” he said smugly. “Come on, you’ve got the charm-work skills I need. Let’s make history.”

Rolling your eyes, you relented, muttering, “Fine. But if this backfires, I’m blaming you.”

Umbridge, resplendent in her usual bubblegum pink, was holding court at her table, surrounded by Ministry sycophants who feigned interest in her saccharine stories. Mattheo and you worked quietly from behind the scenes.

First, Mattheo enchanted a tray of floating teacups to swirl toward her table. The tea inside the cups wasn’t ordinary: it was infused with a harmless but temporary truth serum. As Umbridge took a dainty sip, she began to spout off every embarrassing secret she’d ever tried to keep hidden.

“Oh, how delightful!” she trilled, before adding in an uncharacteristically loud voice, “Of course, I only like my little cats because they don’t argue, unlike those dimwitted Ministry fools I’m forced to tolerate every day.” Her tablemates froze, eyes wide, while someone at the next table audibly choked on their drink.

As murmurs rippled through the crowd, Mattheo nudged you. “Phase two. Ready?”

With a flick of your wand, you activated the pièce de résistance: the Enchanted Cat Choir. Dozens of Umbridge’s fluffy, glowing cats floated down from the enchanted ceiling, meowing in unison to the tune of “Jingle Bells.” Luckily for you guys, she had brought them with her for some reason, and they were waiting impatiently in her carriage. Instead of the usual lyrics, the song had been cleverly charmed to include lines about Umbridge’s many humiliating moments.

The room erupted into laughter as the cats circled her, their glowing forms casting mocking shadows on her flustered, pink face.

“What-what is the meaning of this?” Umbridge screeched, her high-pitched voice nearly drowning out the cat choir. She jumped to her feet, trying to bat away the floating felines, but they simply meowed louder, their jabs growing more pointed:

“Frogs and frills, her tea’s a spill,

Her reign was such a mess,

Tried to rule with an iron quill,

But now she’s just a jest!”

You could barely breathe, cracking up with laughter as you watched her flounder, a mix of fury and embarrassment painting her face crimson.

Mattheo leaned in, his voice low and full of mischief. “Admit it, y/l/n. This is the best thing you’ve ever seen.”

You wiped a tear from your eye, finally surrendering. “Okay, fine. This? This was genius.”

As Umbridge stormed out of the hall in a flurry of pink robes and screeches, the crowd broke into cheers and applause. Mattheo raised his fist in victory, grinning down at you, gently grabbing your wrist to lift it as well.

“Glad you finally came to your senses,” he said, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

You rolled your eyes, laughing despite yourself. “You’re lucky I did. That cat choir would’ve sounded awful without me and my vast knowledge of charms.”

“Teamwork makes the dream work,” he quipped, smirking. “Now, let’s grab some champagne and celebrate our masterpiece.”

12:00 a.m.

As the crowd slowly began to disperse, the grandeur of the ball winding down, you found yourself standing on the balcony outside the grand hall, the crisp December air biting your cheeks. The enchanted snowflakes floating gently around you were nothing like the storm Mattheo had conjured earlier. These were serene, peaceful.

A familiar, devilish voice broke the silence.

“Escaping already? Don’t tell me you’re finally too mature for the afterparty.”

You turned, spotting Mattheo leaning casually against the doorframe. His tie hung loose around his neck, and his dark curls were a bit more disheveled than usual. Typical Mattheo: looking every bit like trouble with a capital T.

“I needed a moment of quiet,” you replied, crossing your arms against the chill. “Not everything has to end in chaos, you know.”

Mattheo raised a brow, sauntering closer. “Oh, really? Because last time I checked, you were the one who upped the charm work on the cat choir. I’d call that chaos with a side of genius.”

You smirked, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re irresistible,” he shot back smoothly, the corners of his lips tugging into a grin as he slipped his blazer around your shoulders.

You rolled your eyes, but your heart betrayed you, skipping a beat. “Careful, Riddle. You’re almost being nice. People might start to think you actually like me.”

Mattheo stopped beside you, his grin softening into something quieter, something more real. “Maybe they’d be right.”

Your breath hitched, but you quickly recovered, shooting him a mock glare. “Is that your idea of a holiday confession? You’ve really got a way with words, don’t you?”

He chuckled, sliding his hands into his pockets as he looked out at the glittering view of the magical city beyond. “What can I say? I’m not exactly the ‘flowers and sonnets’ type. But…” He turned to you, his dark eyes glinting with that familiar mischief, laced now with something softer. “If I’m being honest, I don’t think I’ve had this much fun in months. Not without you.”

Your cheeks warmed, and for once, you didn’t have a quick retort.

Mattheo leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “You keep me on my toes, y/l/n. And maybe I like that more than I care to admit.”

You glanced up at him, his usual smirk replaced with something genuine, and you felt a strange mix of emotions. Annoyance, fondness, and, above all, the kind of warmth that no enchanted pine or mulled wine could rival.

“Alright,” you said, clearing your throat, trying to regain the upper hand. “But don’t think this means I’m letting you rope me into your pranks again next year.”

Mattheo grinned, stepping back with a mock bow. “Wouldn’t dream of it, darling. But I will keep the seat next to me at the bar warm, just in case.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “You’re insufferable, Riddle.”

“And yet, here you are,” he quipped, his grin widening.

For a moment, the two of you stood there in comfortable silence, the snow falling softly around you. Then, before you could overthink it, you reached up, brushing a stray snowflake from his hair. “Happy Christmas, Mattheo.”

His expression softened, and he reached for your hand, holding it gently for once, no sarcasm, no quips. “Happy Christmas, y/n.”

And as the clock struck midnight, the laughter and music of the ball fading into the background, you realized one thing: maybe chaos wasn’t so bad, especially when it came with a boy who made your heart race like Mattheo Riddle.

#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle #slytherin boys

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windvexer · 16 days ago

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Hiya Chicken, hope all is well with you! Something’s been on my mind and I would love your perspective.

The thrust of it is: can the will of the universe (if there is such a thing) override spellwork?

For context, I lost my job earlier this year, and have been working some magic to get re-employed (along with a metric shit ton of mundane legwork). None of it has been fruitful, and in attempting to troubleshoot, I realized that several of my spells had conditions along the lines of “this new job will serve my highest and best self.”

I’m still a novice at casting – frankly, I’ve not had much success with *any* magic (😞) – so I’m guessing the more immediately pertinent issue has to do with raising power/magical headspace. But, I’m curious if that nebulous “highest and best” would get in the way of producing results.

Also, where exactly does that language originate?? I think I’ve seen it when people talk about petitioning the universe for guidance, or getting in touch with your purpose/path in this life, but is that from a certain tradition or set of beliefs? And if everyone has a pre-determined purpose (or something else that counts as becoming your highest and best self), would including such a statement cause spells to fail if whatever you’re casting for doesn’t align with that purpose? Because real talk, my unemployment has run out and I don’t have time to wait for the highest and best job any more.

Thanks so much for your time, I appreciate you!!

It's New Age.

FUCK your highest/best self.

Even if it exists it can go suck a room temperature limp pickle.

Bear with me my guy. Let's be bears together, peacefully watching the sunrise of this idea over the serene forests of wisdom:

What in the good fuck is the point of being a witch if not to DO WHAT YOU WANT TO DO REGARDLESS OF WHAT THE SHIT UNIVERSE HAS DELEGATED FOR YOU.

It is changing fate.

It is CHANGING FATE.

WITCHCRAFT IS CHANGING FATE.

THEREFORE HOW CAN YOU DO THAT IF YOU JUST ASK THE UNIVERSE TO KEEP DOING WHAT ITS DOING?!

"Hi I believe in this life I have been assigned a True Goal and Best Outcome. I don't know what it is! The Universe could decide it's in my best interest to never escape poverty so my soul can learn some shit. But whatever this Best Outcome is, I will obey it :) blindly :) Spells, go do my bidding! But not if they change my fate. I'm on those train tracks, baybeee. Full speed ahead towards the same place I've been going since birth."

YOUR SPIRITUALITY FOR HOW YOU CHOOSE TO STRIVE TO BE A GOOD PERSON, AND THE PERSONAL WORK YOU DO TO BETTER YOURSELF, SHOULD PROBABLY BE INTENTIONAL I BET.

What is your highest good? Because I kind of feel like you shouldn't leave that up to a nebulous force you don't understand. My guy, and I mean this in the best possible way, you don't even know the widely popular faith (New Age) these beliefs are coming from. I don't think you understand this concept of The Universe; and yet you seem to be willing to place your fate in its hands.

And I think you may also be horrified by the realization that you are ceding autonomy of your ambitions, your goals, your needs, even the very core of your morality, to some fucking Power or Presence or whatever.

What is your highest good? I'm sorry, I mean this genuinely - you do not get to let someone else decide that for you. We all have to read some philosophy and smoke weed and look at the stars with friends and decide for ourselves what it means to be a good person who lives well. Many of us will grapple with this our entire lives.

There is no shortcut. You can't be your best self by doing whatever you want and delegating the decision making to some outside force, hoping that a smarter and more benevolent power will just cancel out any bad decisions you make based on a rubric you don't understand.

If we do have Highest Selves and soul evolution, I do not believe we can evolve based on always letting someone else make the final call for us.

YOU CAN HAVE GUIDANCE. You can have help. You can have plenty of it!!

That's what the witch's familiar is for. That's what tutelary spirits are for. That's why so many people turn to gods for guidance. You can research someone, or ask for a specific kind of help, and say, "hi I want to cast a job spell but I don't know sorcery great, can someone help me craft this so that I don't end up doing something disastrous?"

That's what I do all the time! I'll be about to do some stupid shit about twice a week, but the spirits who love me and help me are like, "Hey! please do not do that sweaty :) That would be Bad," and I listen to them, because they are not nebulous faraway forces; they are my very good friends whom I have known for years and trust completely.

But at the end of the day, they can't make decisions for you. A very creepy truth, that I believe is actually true, is that gods and spirits of Witchcraft will not make decisions for you. They will not cancel out spells if it's not in your "highest good." They will let you do anything you want in your own worst interest.

They will help you and they will guide you. But it's like I said: you can't end up being your best self by doing whatever and hoping someone else picks up the slack.

I don't think it's possible to ever achieve any highest good or best self by never making an actual decision.

And that's what it is, I think. That's what it is when you say, "let me have a job if someone else thinks it's a good idea."

That's not your decision. That's not your choice. That's not your power. That's raising your hand in the back of class and hoping teacher will call on you.

Fuck the Universe. Fuck the highest good. How about some of that live deliciously shit? When do YOU get to eat? Your highest self must be stuffed at the table of delicacies harvested from every moment of your life that you sacrifice to it while you are here with your unemployment run out.

Look in The Universe's eye and tell it to start calling you daddy.

Command. Do not ask, do not intend. Force; compel. Dominate.

next I visualize that the candle is full of prosperous energies if Earth-Goddess wills it in my highest good- NO.

"Listen to me. Listen to me, Earth. Listen to me, Sky. Listen to me, my own Soul. For 27 goddamn years I have been doing whatever I think you want me to do. Now you're all going to do what I want to do. It is not my normal voice that speaks, but the voice of my power. The power within me laces every word, it seeps into the air like water into paper."

Do you feel like someone is suddenly squeezing you by the throat? Do words suddenly become hard to find? Do you feel a bit dizzy? Do you have a strange moment where you can't remember why you started any of this, like you're not sure how you got there? You're on the right track.

"On this day of Jupiter, on this hour of Jupiter, I am giving a command. I command that the magical pathways of this candle be opened, so that the free-flowing and freely given benevolent powers of Jupiter will empower and charge my spell."

(Do not command Jupiter, of course. We're engaging in a little courageousness, not trying to get struck by lightning)

"I do not need to visualize the movement of energies. I know the truth because I have commanded the truth and I am a creator god born into this flesh: The candle is filled with the power of a God, I have the ability to channel the freely-given power of one of the Seven Governors whom has been worshiped by humans since the start of time, it is here and I have claimed it as is my right, as was offered to me:

This candle spell will bring me the fate I desire, because I have designed that it will occur, and no god, spirit, beast, or man will stand in my way."

It should feel fucked up, my friend. It should give you stage fright. It should make your palms sweat and your stomach queasy. It should give you the same emotional sensation as having a heartbreaking conversation that you know will change a relationship forever.

Sorry, reality. Sorry, fate. It's just not working out. And since we can't get divorced, you two need to shape up your act because right now I'm in charge of this polycule. When the spell is over, we can be equals again.

And if you do it right, it should make you have to sleep for probably about a week. If your health allows it of course, I recommend not trying to restrict carb intake for the next few days. Keep headache medicine on hand also.

Thank you for being a bear with me. I hope you enjoyed this serene forest of wisdom.

#answered #what a serene chapparal zone we're having this evening

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luvjunie · 1 year ago

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hiii!!!

i was wondering if you can do some miles earth 1610 and earth 42 miles head canons if they were your older brother??

btw I love ur work <333

in which miles is your older brother and your favorite hobby is annoying the shit out of him

the brief mention of Jeff can be present or past, meaning this can be interpreted as 1610 or 42. don’t think it needs to be mentioned but y’all are siblings in this au so it’s obviously platonic lmfao

“Miles!” you sang delightfully on your way to his room, nearly skipping with the excitement of aggravating your older sibling. “Dear, sweet ‘ole brother of mine~”

“Nope, leave me alone.”

His voice, sounding just a tad deeper than it did last week, echoed from down the hall as you approached.

Miles was already up from his bed and on the way to close his door, but you somehow beat him there and leaned your shoulder against the frame. A proposition was eminent in your demeanor, and it made his top lip turn up in distaste.

“Hey Milesy. What’s up?”

He crossed his arms. “You stopped calling me that when you were six.”

Perhaps you were laying it on a little thick, but you’d already gotten this far, so you played on.

“And? Maybe… I’m feeling… nostalgic.” you shrugged.

“Spell nostalgic.” He challenged smugly.

“Anyways!” You abruptly changed the subject with a cheeky grin, the dissimilarity in your expressions comical. “Wanna do me a teeny-tiny favor?”

He couldn’t have shot you down faster.

“Absolutely not. I’d rather use the bathroom after Dad.”

You cringed at the thought. Was he that unwilling?

“Why not?”

“Are you crazy?” Miles gawked. “I got my door taken off the hinges the last time you asked for a ‘teeny-tiny favor’,” he quoted the words with his fingers. “Get somebody else to do it—“

“Wait!” You foiled his sudden attempt to shut his door by using your right foot to stop it— the foot in question, currently clad in a fuzzy, christmas themed sock.

It was the middle of April. But that wasn’t important.

Miles’ hazel eyes agitatedly narrowed at you between the small gap you’d managed to keep open. You both knew he could easily close his door if he really tried, but he didn’t want to hurt you. Though he was considering it.

“Pleaaaseee?” Hands clasped to accompany your begging, you whined at him in a tone that made him grimace.

“Y/n, what did I just say?” He grumbled. “No escuchas. (you don’t listen). It’s like you were born without ears or something.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask you for!”

He shook his head, “I don’t need to!Knowing you, it’s something stupid.”

Making his way to the kitchen, Miles immediately recognized the scent on the hoodie you were wearing when he brushed past your shoulder.

It was the one you’d bought him last year as a birthday gift. He hadn’t noticed it was missing until now, and after it being in your possession for God knows how long, the remnants of his cologne were now drowned out by some tooty-fruity ass body spritz that had his head hurting.

“And stop wearing my clothes, dude. You always give ‘em back smelling like Victoria Body Works and argon oil. That’s if you even give them back.”

Yeah, ‘Victoria Body Works’ was definitely not a thing.

Hot on his heels like a cold that medicine just couldn’t kick, your brows pinched together while you accompanied him through the empty apartment on what you assumed was a search for food.

“It’s Victoria’s secret, dumbass. This how I know you ain’t got hoes.”

“Who?” Miles quirked a brow as he sifted through the snack cupboard for a box of something to demolish in an hour.

“You-“

“—Asked. Bozo.”

“Wow,” you scoffed, a deadpan look on your face when you went to rest your elbows on the granite counter top. “You’re actually ancient.”

Miles was only two years your senior, but he acted like an old head, and that was probably the fault of your Uncle Aaron. He’d spent more time with that man than he did in his own room, which was shocking to say the least.

Miles’ eyes lit up when he discovered a hidden gem tucked into a back corner. “Yo, you gonna eat these honeybuns?”

“You gonna do me a favor?” you shot back, head tilted with the confidence of your incredible advantage over him.

Miles kissed his teeth. He had an immense sweet tooth, and you of all people knew he could never deny sugar.

“Dude, this same box has been sitting in here since last month. Which I know personally, because mom sent me out to get them. Meaning your tubby-ass forgot about these at least two weeks ago!”

Your jaw dropped in shock. “I am not tubby!”

“Tubby is a mindset. Now can I have ‘em or nah?”

You paused to think. “Depends.”

“On?” he encouraged impatiently as you toyed with the hemming of your sleeve.

“When asked where I’m at, around…Let’s say,” you chewed on your thoughts. “Six pm tomorrow— and I know you’ll be asked— say I’m at Isabella’s.”

Miles gave you a skeptical look. “And where are you really gonna be?”

He doubted he wanted to know the specifics on why he needed to lie for you, but he thought to ask anyway. You were his little sister after all, at least one person needed to know where you were.

“Nunya.” you mumbled.

“It’s a boy, isn’t it?” Miles squinted, fingers pinching either side of the honey bun’s plastic in preparation to open it.

Rolling your lips under your teeth, you awkwardly shifted your position so your back was leaned on the counter instead, and spoke cautiously as you ogled the lifting of a few floorboards.

“Maybe… But we’re just gonna-“

“Alright, alright. I got you. I’on need details.” Miles scooped the entire box of his well-earned treats into the cradle of his arm, then reached the other over your head to close all the cupboards he’d previously opened.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You stole the opportunity to trap Miles in a quick hug, tightly squeezing your arms around his torso on purpose because you knew how much it annoyed him. He never did grow out of being ticklish.

“Yeah, yeah. Move,” voice muffled as he was mid-bite, Miles separated you from him with two, rudely-stiff fingers to the middle of your forehead, then started back to the room he rarely left, somehow grabbing the entire jug of apple juice off the counter on his way.

He called out to you without turning back around.

“But if you not back by 9, I swear I’m snitching. I need my door, trust.”

Your face screwed into one of disgust at the implication. “Ewww bro, you’re gross!”

#junie’s works ᥫ᭡#across the spiderverse headcanons #miles morales fanfiction #atsvplatonic #miles morales x sister!reader #miles morales headcanons #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse fanfiction #miles morales drabble #earth 1610 miles x reader #earth 42 miles x reader

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eddieschains · 2 years ago

Text

Don’t Push Your Luck

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

TW// 18+, alcohol consumption, name calling, spanking (hands and implements), fingering, bondage, mentions of safe word, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, let me know if i missed anything !!

“You’re being a right asshole right now, you know that?” You huff at Eddie. To say you two were going through a bit of a rough patch would be an understatement. It wasn’t bad, just constant bickering over the pettiest things.

“I don’t understand what the big deal is. It’s just clothes.” He sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed as you two get ready to go out.

“I want you to match with me. Is it so terrible that I want us to look good tonight?” You threw your hands in the air, walking away from him.

You knew it was a dumb argument. But, it seemed like you two were drifting away lately, and you just wanted him to care about the little things.

You finish your hair in the bathroom, letting him get ready himself before heading downstairs and grabbing your purse.

You yell for him that you’re ready to go, and you hear his footsteps make their way down the stairs.

“I wore the jacket.” He speaks flatly. You turn to look at him, not showing any emotion.

“Nice.” You give him a quick glance before turning back to stuff your extra makeup in your bag.

He walks up to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Babe… can we please not fight tonight? I just wanna have a nice night out with friends.”

“Sure. Wouldn’t want to ruin your night by caring too much.” You mumble, before heading out the door. Eddie locks up behind you, and you make your way to the van, not waiting for him to follow. You hop in the passenger seat, scrolling on your phone until he joins you.

“Hey i’m sorry. Let’s have fun tonight, yeah?” He attempts to calm the situation one last time.

“Yeah, sure.” You respond, not looking up from your phone.

“I love you.” He says quietly, placing a hand on your thigh. You don’t respond. “I said I love you.” He raises his voice a little, still not eliciting any reaction from you. He removes his hand from your thigh and starts the engine. “Fucking brat.” He mutters under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

Brat. Okay, you could have some fun with this. The rough patch you were going through also resulted in a dry spell between you two. Probably because of the bickering if you had to pinpoint a reason.

You knew the arguments were stupid and petty, and you wanted them to stop. But, you also knew if there was one way to get you back to where you were, it was by having him fuck you raw. And if that meant being a little shit until he had no choice, so be it.

You arrived at his friends house, getting out of the van before he even turned the engine off. You can hear the music pumping and people laughing as you approach the door.

“Y/N!” One of his friends yells as he greets you with a hug. “Where’s Eddie?”

“I don’t know. Coming?” You respond. Eddie is right behind you, scoffing at your words. His friend shoots him a confusing look as you move past him.

You push through the crowd of people, making your way to the kitchen for a drink. You’re throwing back shots of vodka as you dance to the music by yourself.

A few minutes go by until you see an angry looking Eddie storming towards you. “The fuck is your problem?” He spits at you. You raise your eyebrows in question. “I told you I didn’t want to fight tonight. Now people keep asking if we’re okay.”

“And what exactly do you want me to do about that? Hmm?” You respond. “I’m here to have fun, and that clearly doesn’t involve you.” You push past him, making your way to what was supposed to be the dance floor.

You find a group of girls, and join them in what really was just throwing back shots and grinding your hips to the music. You don’t give Eddie a second glance, but you can feel his eyes on you.

“Is that your boyfriend?” One of the girls points behind you. You turn to see him sat outside, leant against the balcony railing, glaring at you. If looks could fucking kill.

“Yup. Love of my life.” You laugh.

“Why does he look like he’d rather be anywhere but here?” She chuckles, taking another shot.

“Ugh he’s mad at me I guess. We’ve been fighting ever since we left the house.” You turn back to her, downing the shot she hands you. “He just doesn’t know i’m doing it on purpose.” You shoot her a devious smile, and she throws her head back in laughter.

“Why don’t we stir the pot a little?” You give her a confusing look. She turns around, and begins grinding in to you. You take a quick glance back to where Eddie is sitting, and oh my god, you’ve never seen him get up so fast.

“Y/N… what are you doing?” He asks cautiously.

“Dancing… what does it look like i’m doing?” You smirk.

“Well can you please come and talk to me… outside?” He asks.

“Why?” You scoff.

“Because I need you to come outside with me.” He firmly responds.

“You don’t fucking own me, Eddie. I’m staying here.” You can almost see the smoke pouring out of his ears at your comment.

“That’s it. We’re leaving.” He grabs your wrist and starts to make his way towards the door.

You look back at the girl you were dancing with, and she gives you a wink and mouths have fun. God you hope so.

Eddie practically throws you into the passenger seat and slams the door. The drive home is quiet, but fast. You’re surprised you didn’t get pulled over on the way back.

He pulls into the driveway rather quickly, and turns the engine off. “Get out.”

“But i’m comfy.” You respond, curling your legs into your chest. He reaches over and unbuckles your seatbelt, pushing your door open. You take the hint and begrudgingly hop out.

He unlocks the door, and waits for you to walk inside. “Bedroom. Now.” He growls.

You run upstairs, giggling to yourself about what’s to come. You sit on the edge of the bed, throwing your shoes to the other side of the room while you wait for Eddie to join you.

Soon after, he makes his way through the door, slamming it behind him. “Strip.”

His words go straight to your pussy. You feel your arousal pooling in your underwear as you start to remove your clothes. Slowly. You’re not giving in that easily.

Eddie watches intently as you slowly move the straps of your dress down your shoulders, pushing to the middle of your stomach. He’s lucky you decided to go braless tonight, now exposing your bare chest.

“Hurry up.” He demands. You squint at him, finally pulling your dress down to your ankles and stepping out of it.

You turn to face him, staring as you stand in nothing but your underwear. The cold air hardens your nipples, but that’s not where his focus is.

“I thought I said strip.” He says, looking at the fabric covering your nearly dripping cunt.

“I was getting there.” You smirk. You pull your panties down your legs, stepping out of them and kicking them to join your dress on the floor. “Patience is a virtue.”

“You weren’t making it very easy to be patient tonight.” He removes his shirt rather quickly, throwing it with the other pile of clothes on the floor. “Now get on the bed. All fours.”

You comply, kneeling on the bed with your palms facing the mattress. You push your head closer to the bed, pushing your ass up higher.

You hear the sound of him unbuckling his belt, before making his place behind you on the bed. “You wanna act like a fucking brat all day? I’ll treat you like a fucking brat.”

You moan at his words, pushing your ass closer to him. He folds the belt in half, sliding it in between his hands before grabbing on to the buckle. He rubs his hand over your cheeks before snapping the leather across them.

“Fuck!” You scream, your body jumping forward. He smooths his hands over the spot again, before slapping the belt across you a second time. “Fuck, Eddie!”

“See, you’ve been a right pain in my ass for the past three weeks.” He says, slowly gliding the belt across you. “Telling me what to wear.” Snap. “Not listening to what I say.” Snap. “Then you go and grind on another girl at the party.” Snap. Tears are starting to peek through your eyes and drip down your cheeks. “Mm how many more do you think you deserve?” He asks, rubbing the now red spot on your behind.

“Three?” You question.

“No no, you’ve been acting up for weeks. I think at least five is in order.” He snaps the belt again, making you whine. “I know baby, I don’t like punishing you either. But someone needs to teach you about-“ Snap. “Respect.” Snap.

He whips you two more times, before gently rubbing over the red marks. He leans down, kissing the stinging skin. “Eddie… please.” You beg. You’re not sure of exactly what you want, you just need him to touch. Somewhere. Anywhere.

“Aww baby’s learning how to use her words. Good girl.” You push yourself further into him as he continues soothing the marks he’s left on your ass. “You want me to touch you darling?” You moan an mm-hmm eliciting a chuckle from Eddie. “So needy baby.”

He lifts his head from his place on your ass, squeezing and kneading the skin before slipping his fingers in between your legs. He runs his fingers in between your wet folds, gathering your wetness.

“Eddie… inside please.” You beg, grinding yourself on his fingers. You know he needs this just as bad as you do, so he doesn’t waste any time with snide comments.

He runs his fingers through you one more time before slipping one past your entrance. He smacks his hand onto your cheek, making you moan as you feel your walls clench around him. “What was that you said about me not owning you? Cause this pretty pussy sure acts like it.”

“Maybe that’s because you’ve just stuck a finger in there, dumbass.” You smirk. He reaches down and pulls you up to him by your hair.

“Wanna say that again?” He growls in your ear. You stay silent, and he throws your head back down on the bed. “That’s what I thought.”

He begins pumping his fingers in and out of you, hard yet slowly. “Eddie… more. Need more.” You whine, pushing yourself into him.

He grabs your ass with his free hand, holding you in place. “Stop. You’re not getting what you want, not that easy.” He pushes his fingers all the way inside, and starts curling and pressing against your g-spot. “You’re gonna sit here and not say a word. Take it like a good girl, hmm?”

You nod your head, moaning at the pleasure his fingers were giving you. Usually you’d be embarrassed by how close you already were, but after not being touched by anyone but yourself for the last month, you couldn’t care less.

Eddie continues rubbing inside of you, holding you in place with a firm hand on your ass. You start shaking as your walls begin to pulsate around his fingers. He continues as your walls get tighter, until he pulls them out.

You open your mouth to complain about the loss of contact, but opt for a loud whine instead. “Cat got your tongue, honey?” He laughs.

“You told me not to speak.” You spit.

“Ah so you can listen.” He responds, flipping you over on your back. He pulls the handcuffs off of his belt loop and dangles them around his finger. “Now here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna fuck this sweet little pussy, while you stay put and keep your mouth shut, okay?” You mumble an mm-hmm as he grabs your wrists and places the cuffs around them. “And you’re not gonna cum until I say so.” You nod, rubbing your thighs together. Trying to gain some kind of friction.

He locks the cuffs around the bed post, tightening your hands against the bed frame. “Is that too tight?” He asks. You shake your head, signaling it was fine. He leans down to press a kiss against your lips. “Remember the safe word?” He questions, his dominant facade faltering for a moment. No matter how rough he was with you, he always wanted to make sure you were okay, and felt safe enough to stop.

“Loofah.” He laughs, remembering when you first came up with it. You were in the shower and it was the first thing that came to your mind. It was silly, but it works.

“Good girl.” He mumbles, kissing you again.

He pulls his pants off along with his boxers, throwing them in the growing pile on the floor. He spits in his hand, stroking his cock a few times before sliding it in between your folds.

He teases for a moment, sliding back and forth and tapping your clit. You squirm underneath him, the only way to tell him what you need without using your words. He smiles before pushing all the way inside of you.

“Shit.” He groans. “So fucking tight. Missed this pussy so fucking much, baby.” He groans as he pulls out and slams all the way back in.

He’s just got inside of you, and you’re already a moaning mess. Leaving you on the brink of an orgasm must’ve helped with that.

He keeps pulling out nearly all the way before pushing back in a few times, making you writhe and moan from underneath him. Suddenly, he lets out a deep growl, and grabs your hips. Pulling you into him, as he fucks himself into you at a fast pace.

You’re nearly screaming from the pleasure before he wraps a hand around your throat. “I said be quiet.” He whispers, his thrusts not faltering for one moment. You nod your head, as he keeps his hand attached to your neck.

You can feel your arousal dripping out of you and on to the bed, only furthering your need for a release. Eddie can feel your walls closing around him as you try to push yourself back from falling over the threshold.

He looks at you with a devious smirk on his face. He removes his hand from your throat and places it on your clit. Rubbing fast circles while reminding you to hold it.

Your legs are shaking, as a tear falls down your cheek. Trying to keep your orgasm inside is getting harder and harder by the minute. But, you see a glimmer of hope once you feel him twitching inside of you.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” He chants, he thrusts getting a little sloppier. He doesn’t even warn you before you feel his cum coating the inside of your walls. “Go on, baby. You’ve been so good for me. Cum for me.”

He continues thrusting slowly inside you, while rubbing your button to help you reach what was already about to fall. With a scream of his name, your head falls back as your body twitches underneath him. The wave of pleasure hitting you like you’ve never felt before.

His fingers continue to rub you, slowing down as you try to find your breath again. He bends down to meet your face, placing soft kisses all across your face before meeting your lips.

“You okay?” You nod, a light chuckle escaping your throat. “You did so well baby.” He praises, kissing along your neck before pulling out. “Let me go grab a towel to clean you up.” He pecks your lips before climbing off the bed.

“Hey, Eddie…” He turns around, eyes softer than before. “Can you uncuff me first?” He gasps, running over to unlock the cuffs around your wrists. He grabs your hands in his and starts placing soft kisses along the skin.

“I’ll be right back.” He runs to the bathroom before returning with a warm washcloth. Gently, he slides it across you. Cooing about how good you were.

“I love you.” He turns to you, wrapping himself around you.

“I love you too.” You smile, kissing his forehead.

“No more fighting, right?” He lifts his head, puppy dog eyes on full display.

“No more fighting.” You smile. “Unless it results in you fucking me like that.”

He laughs, pulling you to lay on top of his chest. “Also… I know you did that shit on purpose.”

You gasp, holding your chest pretending to be offended by his accusation. “Well it worked, didn’t it?”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader

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ooouuunahnah · 3 months ago

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We all have our vices; for Izuku Midoriya it’s you.

Enjoy this Izuku x Str!pper reader one shot

Plz excuse grammar and spelling errors I did not spell check

Minors DNI

“I need new friends.” Is all Izuku can think about when the smell of sweat and ass is clouding his senses. His so called ‘friends’ have kidnapped him from his comfortable solitude of self pity and have dragged him to see an ‘exotic’ dancer show. Yea, they brought him to a strip club; to somehow distract him from the fact that the love of his life has dumped him and is probably screwing his junior.

He doesnt blame Ochako, they were both too busy loving their careers more than each other; it couldn’t be helped.

“PLEASE JUST ONE CHEEK!?” A few feet away from him Mineta is practically harassing a dancer whose resemblance to Jessica rabbit is uncanny.

His perverted friend is on his knees, shaky hands clamped in front of him and elephant tears streaming from his face. “I’LL GIVE YOU ALL OF MY MONEY IF YOU JUST SIT ON MY FACEEE.”

Izuku frowns his face up. “What’s that look for?” He turns his attention to the beautiful headache who helped drag him here, Mina.

“I wanna go home.” She rolls her eyes, “You’re a grown man Deku you’re free to come and go wherever you please.” He starts to stand up when Mina practically body slams him back into his seat and crash landing onto his lap.

Izuku exhales but it comes out strained, “Don’t you think Ejirou would be a tad bit upset if he sees his girl sitting on his friends lap?”

She takes a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, “We’re on the outs.” Izuku adjusts himself and leans back (might as well get comfortable since he’s stuck here).

“Ooh I can tell, you tend to do disrespectful shit whenever he pisses you off.” Which is quite often I might add.

She leans into me, swirling her glass of champagne. *sigh* “I went to through his phone.” She says putting the glass to her lips and gulping down half of its contents.

I lean further into my seat, it’s gonna be a long night. “And?” I take the champagne from her and buck the rest and she puts her chin in the hand that was just holding her glass.

“There are girls literally flooding his DM’s and I don’t even wanna talk about his snap chat.” I wince knowing that she’d find a pretty similar situation in my phone.

But in both of our defense, “They’re probably just a bunch of thirsty fans. What makes you think he’s replied to any of them.”

Her glare is deadly, “You both are disgusti- you know what tonight isn’t about me it’s about how my best friend dumped you on your ass and you’re being a whiny baby about it.”

I return her glare, “Oh I’m the whiny one but you’re sitting on my lap bitching about a few thirst traps sent to, and I quote,” (throwing up air quotes to emphasize my point) “your man that’s not your man.”

“You know what you’re hurt so I’m going to let that one slide.” I roll my eyes as she continues. “As I was saying tonight is about you getting laid by a hot stripper and possibly forgetting about your failed attempt at love.”

A mix of pain and annoyance flutters through my chest at the mention of my failure as a boyfriend ..and a man. A solemn expression takes over my face much to Mina’s disdain.

“Stop that.” “Stop what ?” “That face, stop feeling sorry for yourself. I love Ochako to death but she’s not worth loosing yourself over.” I let out a breath, “Well it feels like I’ve already lost myself.” “Well then,” she smiles sinisterly. “Let’s get you a stripper who can help you find it. ”

She jumps up with newfound enthusiasm. “I’m gonna find you the BADDEST bitch of the bunch. And she’s going to be all yours for the night.” She promises, I offer her a small smile then she turns and leaves eager to complete her mission.

She’s gone all but five minutes before she returns jumping up and down with the excitement of a kid in a candy store. “Izuku get up get up I found her.” She pulls on my arms urging me up, I eye her suspiciously

unconvinced, “You found her that quick ?” “YES. She’s so fine if you don’t hit I will.” I laugh at her genuinely amused, “Their job is to dance not fuck.” She waves me off and continues to lead me to the mystery girl, “Yea yea I heard that in a Cardi B song but trust me you’ll want to.

Before I know it I’m sitting down in a led lit room with a pole and stage, soft music playing in the background. “Hi.” She smiles at me, “H-hi.” I clear my throat, she’s beautiful, like drop dead gorgeous. I’m thinking 5’7-8, brown eyes, black volumous coils just above her shoulders, lips full and two toned no less. Fuck, her lips.

And a body that could definitely take away my worries for the night. She tilts her head noticing my staring, I meet her eyes again. “Um what’s your name ?” “S/N” (stage/name) “I mean your real name”, amusement lacing my voice. She leans into me ,“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would yes” my voice dropping to a whisper as she closes in, we lock eyes and just when I think she might come in for a kiss she pulls away and to my surprise straddles me. “None of my clients know my real name” I tense as she moves her hips against me. “Maybe I’m special” my hands land on her hips,

“Not that special”. I’m growing hard, in the span of 15 minutes she had grind on me in ways I didn’t even know someone could. She’s about to sit back down on me when I grab her hips trying to catch a breath. Stopstopstopstopstop, I let out a huff trying to contain myself and she looks at me in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” she asks and I word vomit, “Nothing nothing you’re amazing really but this is really REALLY turning me on and I know you’re just doing your job so I don’t want to make it weird and you feel how you’re affecting me and it creeps you out and makes you uncomfortable and-“ , her beautiful laughter interrupts my rant.

She makes her way to me and straddles my lap, it’s not weird it’s normal happens all the time”, she proceeds to move her hips directly over my erect dick. My voice is strained, “Does it not make you uncomfortable?” “ Sometimes but it’s part of the job.”

In this case tho you were very respectful and honest on your part, I’m not used to that”, she leans in wrapping her arms around my neck voice dropping to a whisper, “kinda turns me on.” My dick jumps at the praise and she must feels it because she picks up her pace quicker than the music.

My hips unconsciously meets hers and she moans softly at the feeling. My hands tighten on her waist, “Sweetheart.. I’m going to cum in my pants if you keep this up.” This time she lifts her hips up a bit to drag herself down harder on me and I shudder at the friction created, she leaning and whispers aginst my lips, “As long as I get off too.”

A smirk spreads across my face, “That can be arranged.” Before I can think to stop myself I press my lips to hers fully swallowing her moans and tasting her on my tounge as she slides hers in my mouth. Then I’m on her neck kissing licking and sucking anywhere I can, anywhere she’ll allow me to all while drinking in her delicious Moans.

She taste so good, how can anyone’s skin taste this good??? “ I just wanna eat you up.” I whisper aginst her skin, she laughs in response but it’s cut off by a moan when hold her tighter and ground her against me.

I can help but feel everything I can, I’m touching her waist her breast her ass, my hands would be in her beautiful hair if they weren’t already occupied. I can practically feel her through my pants with the growing wet spot I already know is there.

Her Rythum is slowing and she’s tugging on my hair and I’m cuming. I’m coming in my fucking pants in a strip club hunching one of the dancers of all things. The music has stopped and the sound of our heavy breathing fills the room, I’m still squeezing her ass cuz it’s a really nice ass and my hands have become content being there. “Fuck.”

I whisper against her skin “Fuck.” She repeats, I have a feeling she’s never done this with one of her clients before but I think we can both agree that it was one of the most intense orgasms we’ve ever had…with our clothes still on at that. She pulls back first and I lift my head to look at her.

She’s so pretty with her hair ruffled, lips swollen, and her breath uneven.” “That was..” “Amazing” ,I finish for her, she bites her lip at that. I place a kiss against her neck, “Let’s do it again..” She laughs softly, “We’ll see about that, maybe at your next visit?”

I’m getting hard again at the thought of coming back and sharing another mind blowing orgasm. I whisper aginst her lips, “It’s a date.” “Y/N,” “What?” “My name, it’s Y/N.” My chest warms at the confession, “You can call me Deku.” “That’s not your name.” I lean in and tuck a loose curl behind her ear, “I’ll tell you next time.” She rolls her eyes playfully, “It’s a date.”

#izuku x reader #deku x y/n #deku x you #izuku x y/n #mha izuku #deku #izuku mydoria #ao3 izuku #izuku midoria x reader

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random-imagines-blog · 4 months ago

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Imagine being Stephen Strange's rival and a backfiring spell causes you to blurt out your thirsty thoughts about him.

“Hopefully this works,” You muttered to yourself, and started to make the hand motions for the spell. Speaking of, it was one that you had come up with yourself, a truth telling spell that was more brutal than the one already created. You thought that just not being able to lie wasn’t good enough - you wanted to hear whatever came to their mind when the question was asked. Stephen Strange had information that you wanted, and you were planning on getting it. You shot the spell out, pushing it hard, directing it right to the cornered Stephen. He was able to counter it with a reflecting spell that you didn’t know of, a strong one which sent the spell right back onto you. Stephen looked rather pleased with himself with that one, the stupid smug expression on his face. “Yeah, laugh it up, chuckles,” You said, your mouth moving at the same time as your brain. “That face might be sexy but it’s also really stupid.” “Did you just call my face sexy?” Stephen asked, lowering his hands in surprise. And you realized that yes - that is what came out of your mouth. “Shit,” You said. “You are not supposed to know what is going on inside of my head! This is a nightmare.” “Tell me what you really think,” Stephen said, crossing his arms in front of him, that smug look back on his face, the surprise having been wiped off when he realized how useful this could be. But what was on your mind was something that you certainly didn’t want to share. Regardless - it came out. “If we were to make out, I feel like all the hairspray and gel that you wear would put up a resistance and it just would ruin the moment,” You said, despite attempting to hold your lips together with your index finger and your thumb. The stunned look came back and then a short laugh from the sorcerer. “You know what - I actually really hate you sometimes but my god, is it ever fun to see you and wonder how ticklish your facial hair would be.” This was not good. Not good. NOT GOOD. You were backing up, and as you were, you kept saying, “Abort mission, abort mission, I’m kinda sad I didn’t hurt you because that means I can’t nurse your wounds and potentially see you shirtless - FUCK.” You turned around and ran, outwardly just spitting out curse words while Dr Strange was too bewildered to follow you.

Requested by: Anonymous

#Dr Strange #Dr Strange x reader #Dr Strange imagines #Stephen Strange #Stephen Strange x reader #Stephen Strange imagines #Marvel #Marvel imagines #x reader #imagines #stephens

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thefallennightmare · 1 year ago

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Just Pretend-ten

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: I don't think you guys understand how broken this gif made me Fuck, creating it killed me! Also, during the hotel scene, listen to snuff by slipknot. It's on the playlist! Some eggs from other songs on the playlist throughout the chapter as well! Enjoy my loves!

Tags: @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here

NICK R.

My heart raced as Jolly and I met each other in the dimly lit hotel hallway, sleep still heavy in our eyes and bones. When he called me a few minutes ago, I rushed out of bed where I was crashing in Matt’s room and knew that it could have been about one thing.

Noah.

“What happened?” I asked.

Jolly ran a hand over his exhausted face. “I don’t know. I haven’t walked inside yet and I’m afraid of what I’m going to see.”

“Y/N. He kicked me out earlier tonight because she was coming by,” I said, remembering suddenly.

“Shit,” Jolly cursed before nodding behind me towards Folio. “No matter what we walk into, we don’t judge him. Whatever happened fucked him up enough that he needs to write a song at three in the morning.”

Folio agreed. “How bad is he?”

I shrugged. “I guess we’ll see.”

Jolly turned towards the door and knocked gently.

“Yeah.”

The voice that called back was not Noah; this voice sounded broken, and distant, with the single word that was uttered.

“It’s me,” Jolly spoke through the door.

Realizing that Noah was most likely not in a state to answer the door, I handed Jolly my room key and we all sucked in a breath when the light on the lock turned green; us walking into the room one at a time. There was music playing, soft beats echoing off the wall, and I hoped no one would complain to the front desk about the noise.

My bed was still as I left it but Noah’s bed was disheveled with a pair of underwear that clearly weren’t his and a small piece of what I expected was a condom wrapper. Noah’s original clothes from earlier that evening were on the floor at the edge of the bed.

Shit.

Noah was on the floor leaning against the wall with a bottle of Hennessy in hand, more than half gone, and his hair was in a disarray of braids.

“Noah,” Jolly said quietly while bending down in front of him.

He waved a hand in front of his face as his head bobbed slowly. “I’m good, man. I just wanted to get this beat down. It’s in my head.”

“She wouldn’t stay, would she?” I questioned while motioning towards the bed.

“Didn’t need to. Jus’ friends. ‘S’all it’s come to. She didn’t need to and I don’t really fucking care. I don’t. No sweat off ma back,” he finished the rest of the bottle before letting it slip from his fingers. “I’m fine. F.I.N.E.”

The three of us shared a painful wince as he spelled out the word two more times.

As if whoever was watching over us from above, just then that specific song by Too Close To Touch came blasting through the small portable speaker Noah always brought with.

“See?” Noah pointed to the air around him. “Even fucking Keaton is telling you guys I’m fine.”

But then, he slammed his head against the wall behind him as his bottom lip trembled, his chest caving in at hearing his best friend's voice play throughout the room. Noah was only rubbing more salt in his wounds and fuck, they burned.

“Why the fuck aren’t you here, man?” he choked out. “You knew her better than us. What did I do? Why’d she leave?”

Keaton’s name felt like ice in our hearts and I knew it was a stabbing pain through Noah’s chest.

“Whatever,” Noah grumbled, wiping angrily at his face. “Her decision; bad decision. Fuck her. I need to write.”

“Noah, come on, don’t say shit you’re gonna regret,” Folio spoke. “You can’t write when you’re drunk. You know that.”

“M’not. She jus’ my good friend. I fucking knew I wasn’t enough for her.”

He was far gone, not even realizing that Folio and I stood behind Jolly, our own somber expressions weighing heavily on our faces.

Finally, his eyes opened and when he saw all three of us, Noah groaned.

“Oh, great ya called them?” He pointed towards us. “I don wanna hear I told you so, erm stubborn. Yadayadsa.”

His words slurred together, stumbling over his tongue.

Folio peered around the room, counting the empty bottles. “I’m counting two.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Apparently he’s been sitting here awhile.”

“You know I can’t stay; you deserve better than me,” Noah chuckled, imitating Y/N’s voice.

Jolly peered over his shoulder at us and his lips were pulled in a tight line, all of us thinking the same thing.

“Noah” I sighed with my hands on my hips.

His head snapped up, eyes red with tears so close to falling but they wouldn’t. Noah was always in control of his emotions; he refused to cry in front of us.

“She told me what I felt, she told me what I wanted and what I didn’t. Didn’t give me a fucking say about anything before she walked the fuck out. Left. Gone,” he rambled on.

“She’s going through-,” Folio started.

“Fuck that,” Noah seethed with clenched fists in his lap. “I don’-don’t care right now, in this moment. She fucking stole my heart and took it with ‘er. Jus’ friends.”

The last two words sounded bitter on his tongue, like acid.

While we let him wallow in the pain, I motioned for Jolly and Folio to walk to the other side of the room, out of earshot from Noah.

“Should we ask Malcom or Chase what the fuck happened?” Jolly asked.

“Do you think she told them?” Folio wondered.

I shrugged while crossing my arms over my chest. “I don’t doubt that. She likes him, we know she does. It’s clear.”

“Then why did she leave?” Jolly questioned, his own pain for Noah making his jaw clench. “What the fuck happened to make her leave?”

I gazed over to Noah, my heart falling into my stomach at the broken sight of my brother. “He jumped. He jumped but Y/N wasn’t there yet.”

The three of us made a quick plan of action before Jolly and Folio went to help Noah up off the floor, his limp body dragging on the floor.

“Noah let’s get into bed,” Folio suggested.

“No. I need to finish this beat, and these fuckin’ lyrics in my head,” he pushed himself away from them, standing on two shaky feet but standing. He smacked his forehead over and over.

Jolly nodded. “We will, but first you need to get some sleep.”

He glared at the bed in front of him, a mess of the decision they made together.

“…the pillow.. she was on that one,” Noah pointed. “It smells like that fucking perfume, I don-wanna inhale that shit right now.”

There was so much venom in his voice when he spoke about Y/N and there was a part of me that hoped this wouldn’t last long. He had every right to be upset with her; he gave her his heart, and she walked away.

“Alright, then let’s get you some sleep in mine,” I said.

He licked his lips, an unreadable look flashing in bloodshot eyes. “I still fucking taste her. It’s a poison that I should have fucking avoided.”

“Can’t help you with that, brother,” Folio tried to joke.

No one laughed

“No. I need to finish this-,” Noah stumbled over to his suitcase to snatch a piece of paper and pen, something he always kept on him.

I stepped in front of him to hold him steady, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. It was as if it was trying to break free to chase after Y/N; just for her to stomp on it again.

No, I shook my head, you can’t let your own anger deter you from trying to fix Noah. You can be angry about the situation but not her. It’s no one's fault.

“You don’t like to write when you’re not home,” I tried to take the pen and paper away from him.

“I don’ care nicKLas.” He pushed past me to fall onto his bed, ass first on the pillow. “I have to, right now.”

Sensing the sudden thick tension, not knowing what the next thing would be that would set him off, Jolly gave a slow nod toward Noah.

“Alright. Let it go, man. Let us hear it.”

Even though they weren’t written down, Noah still burned his gaze into the empty page in front of him. Through the slurred words, the ache that poured out of him brought chills to my bones.

“How quick it gets lonely here at the top. Her skin feels unholy but I’m still drawn. The morals I’m holding, you know they’re gone.”

Fuck, that was good.

Noah’s eyes snapped over to us. “Why aren’t you helping me get down this beat?”

I held my arms out to the empty room. “We don’t have our stuff here Noah, this isn’t usually how we do this.”

“Fuck,” he ran a shaky hand over his chin. “Ok well then here! Voice clip it.”

While he tossed his phone to Jolly, who barely caught it in time, I gave Folio a look of luck before slipping out of the room, almost running into Matt who stood at the open doorway.

“Who the fuck is blasting Snuff by Slipknot at four in the morning?” He asked with fury.

No doubt someone called the front desk and complained who in turn complained to Matt.

“Woah, what the fuck is going on right now?” Matt took a tentative step into the room, eyeing the situation.

“Didn’t you hear, fucker?” Noah whipped his head towards us so fast, that the braids smacked around his face. “She ran away, she’s the fuckin same.”

He hiccuped a sob. “Angels lie to keep control.”

“Fuck's sake,” Jolly pinched his nose with a sigh.

I gave Matt’s shoulder a squeeze. “Just keep an eye on Noah, he’s not in a good place right now.”

“Fuck, don’t tell me-,” he stuffed his hands into the pocket of his sweater.

“Just- let me handle it man,” I slipped past him out of the room and quick steps took me to the elevator.

I bounced on the soles of my feet as I repeatedly pushed the down floor button and cursed when the doors finally opened. Blackness took over as I let the images of Noah sitting there broken carry me to the room, hand pounding on the door.

Time be damned. I couldn't care less if she was asleep right now. How could she be asleep while my best friend, my brother, was fucking dying on the inside?

Not again. I refused to let him sink for another.

“Nick?” Chase squinted with the sudden light blasting in from the hallway. “Everything alright?”

“Where is she?”

He continued to stare at me with narrowed eyes. “Who? Y/N?”

“Yes,” I nodded. “Is she here?”

I tried to peer past him but only saw someone with auburn curls walk behind Chase, leaving a gentle hand on his back. “What’s going on?”

“Nick’s looking for Y/N,” Chase informed Malcolm.

He stared at me confused. “Last I heard she was going to hang out with Noah. Did something happen?”

“What the fuck do you think?” I snapped but then let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be an asshole but she left. Noah’s a fucking wreck. It seemed like they had a great time- so what’s the deal? I thought she cared for him. Why, why would she hurt my friend?”

I was the middle child, great at negotiating, great at being the middle man. The one who would try to settle things. I was on Noah’s side with this one, she’s my friend, but he’s my brother. Even I didn’t see this coming. I tried to remain neutral when I asked them and tried not to look annoyed.

“Dude- she does, she cares for him a lot,” Malcolm spoke while tying up his curls. “Noah makes her so happy. We haven’t seen her glow like that in years, I just- I don’t know. We don’t know why she would leave. Unless…”

Chase quickly pushed Malcolm back into the room slightly. “Dude, no. That’s not our business to tell. She has to be the one to decide.”

“What?!” I asked.

They knew something, and I needed to know; right now.

“That’s her business, not ours,” Chase said, rubbing his head.

“What?,” I scoffed. “Is she fucking dying or something? Is she okay?”

“No, no, she’s fine. All I’ll say is she does things in her life that can require extra attention. But like I said, that’s not for us to discuss, even with you man, sorry,” he pauses and says again. “Is he- is Noah alright?”

“Honestly? No. He isn’t, he’s drunk and writing right now. He’s gonna feel like hell when we have to leave for the airport in a few hours.”

Malcolm sighed. “I’m sorry dude. When Y/N comes back, we’re going to have to have a long talk. We know she cares for your friend, Nick. Her heart is in the right place- we just don’t know where the hell her mind is. We’ll figure it out.”

I nod and smile slightly, in agreement. My eyes want to convey a lot more. Y/N’s a good person, but she broke my friend's heart tonight. This is why I was so hesitant about this relationship with him and Y/N. I warned Noah not to jump yet, but he did.

All I could do right now until she came back was nod a quick thanks to them and hope that Y/N would confide in them. I wanted to fix my friend's broken soul so often, and so often I tried and succeeded. I wasn’t sure I could with this one- I needed to let them go through this on their own. But I’ll be damned if I let my friend suffer.

“Alright well, let me know what you find out, please.”

“Absolutely, anytime man. We’ll talk,” Chase reassured with a nod, Malcolm bumping fists with mine.

When I made it back to Noah’s room, I noticed the guys huddled around Noah’s slumped body in the bed, clutching the pillow Y/N laid on close to his chest, snoring loudly, and another empty bottle of Hennessy next to him.

“Shit,” I breathed. “Another one?”

Matt sighed defeated. “We tried, man. But his strength when he’s drunk and angry is something not to mess with. You know that.”

I nodded because I knew that. All too well.

“He only fell asleep about five minutes ago. I don’t know how we’re going to get him up in two hours so we can make our flights,” Folio wondered.

“We’ll figure it out,” I assured them. “Did he finish writing?”

“Yeah,” Matt slowly went towards the end of the bed, gently pulling the book from under Noah’s arm; pen falling from his hands.

“What does it say?” My brows raised as I took the paper in my hands; my brothers' broken words staring back at me.

Bitter ends to the nights. I’m along for the ride. Out of breath, out of time. Everything has a price. You can be all I got, what’s the difference? Hennessy and a lot of bad decisions. All I know, all I know is bad, bad decisions.

“Gotta admit, it’s fucking good,” Jolly said while he read the lyrics over my shoulder.

I bit my lip. “Yeah.”

Folio yawned loudly while stretching, exhausted body falling onto my bed. “Get ready boys because once we’re home, we won’t have a moment of peace. We’re writing a new record.”

NICK R.

You could cut the tension with a knife in this boarding gate right now.

The sun barely broke through the thick glass of the windows as Bad Omens and Hollow Souls sat on other ends of the gate, waiting for our flights to be called. With tired but intent eyes, I watched Noah as he kept his eyes cast down to his hands, fingers intertwining with each other as he picked away the black nail polish. It was as though it was his subconscious way of chipping pieces of Y/N away, the way he washed his hands in the restroom earlier, scrubbing her off him.

His nails were surely, going to bleed if he kept picking at them, I wanted to intervene, say stop that. I needed him to process his feelings. I so badly wanted to scream in this airport, wake the fuck up, to them both. But I kept my reservations.

And just like him, Y/N looked rough. It was clear neither of them, or well any of us got any sleep last night.

Where the fuck did they go so wrong together?

Noah had been a fan of hers ever since that night on my pull-out couch but the first time they met each other almost 2 months ago, their eyes were bright with a vibrant gaze. Almost like searchlights attempting to find something. The lights found it, but they were almost too intense, almost like bystanders. Through all the confusion, I knew deep within me it wouldn’t be long until the searchlights were searching again, just a matter of when.

Us?

We weren’t allowed to see what was being found. We should have looked away, and avoided the crash. But to see them now, those same eyes swollen, discolored and raw red, the blood vessels wanting to leave their faces made it harder to look away.

Noah ran a hand through his hair, now out of the braids and cascading around his shoulder, and let his eyes graze over towards Y/N, who was resting her head against Chase's shoulder. It was brief, the look of agony in them, but he looked away before she could catch him.

The airline called out for Vegas first; Chase and Y/N’s flight. Then our flight back home to LA was called out seconds later.

Those two sets of eyes, continue to gaze and plead and beg until their shoulders are tapped, Jolly to Noah and Chase to Y/N. As he stood, Noah adjusted the bag on his shoulder and waved his fingers in a peace sign toward the three members of Hollow Souls. This wasn’t how we wanted our new friendships and tour to end.

He wants to be in her life. He still does, otherwise, he wouldn’t have done that. I thought to myself as I noticed Y/N gave her one peace sign to all of us.

She’s sorry, she wants him in her life and regrets it.

I could fucking see it. This was going to be a long ride with these two.

As we all stood with our carry-on bags, ready to walk towards our gate, I gave Chase a knowing nod who immediately pulled out his phone, avoiding the eyes of Y/N, to send me a message.

I’ll tell you everything

Noah slept the entire flight, not speaking a word or even opening his eyes. Now, as we pulled up to the house he said with Jolly, Orie, Michael, and Jesse, Noah still had yet to say one word. Folio offered to stay with but we knew he had someone to meet back home in Virginia so we told him we had it from here.

“You sure?” Folio asked before we boarded the plane.

I nodded. “Yeah, go back to Virgina. Tell her we said hey.”

I, on the other hand, was a different story.

“I’m not going home right now,” I told Noah as I set my bags down in their living room. They had little extra space, but I didn’t care. I’d sleep on the couch as long as I was near my brother. “I won’t leave you in this state, Noah.”

“Nick, I’m a grown man. I’ll be alright,” he sighed while popping open the bottle of aspirin, and swallowing two pills dry.

For the hangover.

“I know you are,” I nodded. “Just let me be there for you, okay?”

NOAH

If it wasn’t terrible enough that not only did my fucking love life shut down, but the world had to as well?

Two months. It’s been almost two months since the tour ended and this pandemic took over the world, forcing us to stay stuck inside. While the rest of the guys went stir-crazy after the first few weeks, I spent the solace writing, drinking, and trying to forget about her.

The latter lasted only a few minutes once we returned home; her scent being stained into my skin, her touch engraved deep into my bones it made it hard to get out of bed. I see her in all my mirrors. Her reflection was haunting me relentlessly like a ghost.

Hennessy and Jack have become my friends in the last few weeks at home. I knew the guys were worried; I didn’t need them to worry. I was fine.

Y/N and I are friends.

Right, then how come you haven’t texted her in weeks?

Because she’s been busy with the move, I retorted back to my own thoughts.

Malcolm texted our Hollow Omens group chat to let us know that Y/N was settling in nicely in their new apartment in Los Angeles. We can come by anytime for a housewarming party but immediately I ignored that. Wouldn’t it be fucking awkward?

Trey wasn’t home when she and Chase showed up to pack her things so they could leave without incident.

Even with her cat Salem.

Chase sent a few pictures of the cat in the group chat, long black fur lying on his chest. I never responded, simply liking the messages before setting my phone on silent the rest of the night. I noticed that Y/N rarely ever responded in the chat as well, only when Chase or Malcolm would ask her something but she would only reply with emojis or a short ‘ok.’

The pandemic was only getting started and I could feel the suffocation kick in. I felt alone; utterly alone. I put all my heart into this one woman, a woman I yearned for, for a long time.

The loud ringing of the doorbell pulled me from my melancholy thoughts and I sighed, almost forgetting I ordered food an hour ago. I was in such a trance I hadn’t realized the noise of the loud bell eased me out of my rocking back and forth on the couch.

I didn’t even notice I did that.

I took a massive swig of my jack and clenched my teeth as it burned all the way down my throat, heart racing a mile a minute.

Calm down, calm down.

Time slowed, or passed by in a blaze? I wasn’t sure the longer I sat in the somewhat dark living room, open but untouched food container on the table in front of me as the chicken scratch of my handwriting teased back at me.

Why’s this always gotta happen to me? I should have known. I never fail to never learn from mistakes, still throwing stones. Blood signed, we made it a pact. Yours dried out; you took it back.

The alcohol was like battery acid as I took another large swing of Jack but it wasn’t kicking in strong enough. I kept swinging until the burn covered up my pain.

Harper’s soft whines from her perch next to me on the couch pulled at my heartstrings so knowing Orie wasn’t here, I fed her a few pieces of my cold dinner.

The front door opened, voices carrying from the entryway into the living room and my heart hammered with the panic of them seeing me like this. I hid the bottle under the pillow and tossed the small bag into the garbage from my food.

“Shit, Noah. Why are you sitting in the dark?” Jolly asked while turning on the lamp next to the sofa I was sitting on.

“Hi,” My voice was soft because now with the bright lights, the room was spinning.

“You working on another song?” He eyed the bottle that stuck out from behind the pillow, irritation in his eyes.

They matched my own.

I chewed roughly on my bottom lip. “Yes, man, what do you think?”

“Don’t be hostile, go eat and let me look over it,” Jolly motioned to my food while he reached for the pad of paper.

“You can’t just tell me what to do,” I snapped while reaching for it before he could.

“Noah, you gotta eat so you don’t get hungover. Let me look at the song,” he took the pad of paper and walked over to the other side of the room. Once he fell into the chair in the corner of the room, Jolly nodded up at me. “Fucking eat, Noah”

I sighed and grabbed my food to chew slowly, “Okay Dad”

Jesse stalked into the living room a few moments later while stuffing his phone into his pocket. “Nick said there might be news of the ban lifting completely by the end of the month. Which means we can get a change of scenery. Might be good for us.”

Holy Hades, this is one of those times I wished I lived alone.

Shortly after getting back home, the pandemic started and Nick ended up getting stuck with us in LA. He didn’t mind, more time for us to hang and chill, but now that procedures were lifting slowly at a time, he took the first opportunity to fly back to Virginia to get things settled there.

“Hey,” Jesse sat on the arm of Jolly’s chair. “Is this another song?”

Even though my head was throbbing with the ongoing hangover, I leaned back into the couch while nodding and Harper now rested her whole body in my lap. “It’s the third one.”

“Oh? Nice! Let me see” He began flipping through the pages.

Normally, I’d jump and take the book from his hands, but right now this room was in spirals. I was sick to my knees. All I wanted to do was call her, and have her tell me it’ll be fine. But I wasn’t ready to talk to her yet, and she wasn’t ready to talk to me either.

Clearly.

Malcolm texted me the other day, outside of the Hollow Omens group chat to tell me that Y/N wasn’t doing okay and she missed me. She wanted to talk to me and wanted us over one night when the bans were lifted. But if that was the truth, then how come the last text I had on my phone from her was right before she came to my hotel room that night?

Her unholy skin tasted like the forbidden fruit, all the morals we held that night gone. No gods, no religion. Just our bad decisions. Memories of the way she looked while on top of me burned into my brain and I couldn’t forget the way she felt coming undone.

It paralyzed me so much so that I left Malcolm on read for two days.

Thanks man, glad it worked out. Be in touch.

Snapping out of my drunken thoughts, I noticed Jesse was still reading the pages, not giving a damn I’m leaving my heart out on the table in front of him, bleeding all over while he was reading it.

“Bad Decisions. Nice,” Jesse nodded before flipping back to the new song I was working on. “Nowhere to go? Angsty. I like it.”

I shrugged and stopped mid-chew. “Yeah, I know. It’s what I do, Jesse.”

Arrogant? No, it was smart; I had to channel this shit somewhere. I knew this, no matter what, I’ll always write a fucking song. I wanted to panic, and I did, but the liquor was doing its job.

Jolly went to grab the guitar while Jesse moved to the couch, Harper now lying in his lap.

Traitor.

As I reached for the bottle of Jack this time, Jolly hastily ripped it from my hands and to exhausted to fight, I let him.

“No. Let’s add a chorus to Nowhere To Go, yeah?”

“Sure, yeah, I got something in mind.” I took the notebook back to jot some more words down.

After a few moments, I read the entire thing a few times, making sure it was perfect before I gave it to him.

“Start with this?” He asked.

I nodded then soon, my thoughts became words into the air.

“Hear me out, I’m sorry, but I’m a little less than sold. I’ve been around, heard all the stories you said you never told. You’re used to speaking in tongues to feel like you’re in control. Now you’ve got nowhere to run, now you’ve got nowhere to go. Tell me what’s mine and tell me what’s yours. Why I never got a say, never got a choice? Tell me what’s mine and tell me what’s yours. Why I never got a say, never got a choice?”

“Fuck, that sounds amazing, Noah. Let’s finish this.” Jolly mused,

That night, we finished Bad Decisions and Nowhere to Go.

Folio

Noah began smoking weed again, on top of all the alcohol he’d been consuming the last few weeks, he was on a downward spiral. It was only in small doses but that’s how the drinking started; he took up this faux savior persona.

“I can save myself,” he’d say after one of us would bring up how worried we were about him.

It was a load of shit. Any of us could tell you that.

This was the first time I’d seen him since the tour ended, all those months ago, but time away did nothing to help his mental state. Noah was breaking, piece by piece, and now that the ban lifted, we could visit again. Hence Nick and I were hanging out in their living room, a soft beat of music playing on the speakers.

Noah came bounding down the stairs, smelling of whiskey and weed, eyes glassy, rosy, and filled with rage. His hands were full of ink as he’d been writing nonstop, with everlasting consistency.

As he cascaded, his stomps were harsh, and if he realized it, Noah didn’t give a shit. When he reached into the kitchen and slammed the cupboard door wide open, he grabbed a bag of pita chips with tight force, breaking a few chips no doubt.

“Why are these almost gone? I just fucking bought them?” He snapped with a smart-ass attitude.

All of us eyed each other wearily, unsure how or even if we should respond but it was Orie who muttered under his breath. “We had some with the hummus we bought earlier. Chill the fuck out, Noah. It’s not that deep.”

Noah tossed the bag onto the counter. “It is that deep when it's something of mine. Fucking ass if you want it. Why is it so hard for people to communicate?”

Michael, who usually was the quiet, almost forgotten one, finally snapped. “We’re being patient with you. But we’re not your fucking punching bag.”

Jolly’s head snapped over to Michael from his spot on the floor in front of the couch with wide eyes full of heat, I was sure vanilla ice cream would melt. Jolly was the one who let all of us know to take it easy on Noah; it was a hard time in his life, and the last thing he needed was one of us fighting with him.

Noah hadn’t spoken to Y/N in weeks and we could physically see the imaginary soul ties that bound them together withering away, even though they were within miles of each other now that she lived here. Miles apart but still couldn’t gain the fucking courage to grow up and speak to each other.

Michael sighed his apology while running a hand over his face. “We’re here for you, man. We’re being patient. But you can’t keep going on like this.”

“You’re drowning right now and the painful to watch, you haven’t been this bad in years. Let us help you,” Nick spoke with a shaky breath.

Out of all of us, it hurt him the most to see Noah like this because he’d seen it before; only this time it was worse.

“You can’t help me, nothing to help me with. I’m fine,” Noah shrugged before reaching for another beer.

“You’re in denial and it’s ridiculous,” I said, tired of seeing and hearing the same bullshit. “Noah, I think you should see someone.”

“A shrink? Seriously?” He snorted.

“I think it can help you, besides the way music does,” I offered.

“I don’t need you to help me, I just want the racing to stop. The racing in my mind going miles a minute,” He slammed a finger to the side of his head repeatedly. “We have so much shit to do, and I can’t see anything but what happened right now. It’s a fuckin loop in my brain. Everything just keeps glitching.”

Noah then paced the length of the kitchen, red sweater pulled tightly against his chest and hood over his eyes.

“I’m- I’m sorry man, I’m sorry I just- fuck” he spat, a tear fell out of his eye but was quick to wipe it away.

Vulnerability be damned

“We’re your friends, we love you. We were stuck in this fucking house together for months. We can’t go anywhere and you don’t want us to worry? Well, too fucking bad because we do,” Orie explained with a tense-looking Harper in his lap.

She didn’t like the sudden noise but didn’t want to leave her dad.

Noah’s glossy eyes took in all our faces one by one, lingering a few seconds longer than the last.

“I just need time, I don’t know how to handle this, it’s- it’s weird for me. I’m uncomfortable. I don’t think I’ve fallen this hard, this fast,” he admitted while swallowing the lump in his throat.

That much was true. He’s had exes, one-night stands; hell, he’s been in love before- but I’ve never seen it develop this way. We’ve never seen him fall from such a high altitude this quickly. His guards are usually pointed like sharp knives, but it was so easy for him to dull them down for her.

I only hoped Y/N knew that. This was a big deal. I watched my friend crumble and crack like glass.

Time would only tell when they would repair the damage done here. I only hoped it would soon because we hated to see him bruise so easily. He’s right on the edge I fear, one more thing, one more thing and he’ll fall completely into a darkness we wouldn’t be able to pull him from.

“All I do is drink to numb the pain because all the good days we had together got taken away when my head turned on. I keep asking myself ‘why am I not good enough for her?’ How the fuck can I be good enough for her when I don’t even know what good enough is?”

None of us had an answer for him; the only one that did, he was purposely ignoring.

With a lone tear falling from his eyes, Noah wiped it away with the back of his hand, sniffles echoing in the kitchen.

“It’s so hard to watch myself win when a loser's all I've been.”

NOAH

I lay in my bed, neon glows emanating from behind my bed soaking the walls, as I stared up at the ceiling. My mind was racing so face in pace with my heart and I tried so hard to just breathe; fucking breathe to ease it. This pain was like a burning coal I was walking but within a second, all the pain was gone. I couldn’t take it anymore, the drinking, smoking, and not eating affected my health. I was skin on bones at this point.

Keaton's voice rang in my ears. “You’re a shell, Noah. Holding in these shattered nerves. A skeleton that's lost its skin and desperately wants back in.”

Tattooed hands covered my face as I blew a shaky breath into them.

“I need a sign from you, man. Give me something to know I haven’t messed it up yet,” I cried.

A second later, my phone buzzed from the spot on my bed, and through cloudy tears, I sucked in a breath when I saw Chase’s name appear with a new text.

Chase: Hey man, I haven’t heard from you the last few days, I wanted to check in with you. I know this may seem out of nowhere, but we’re worried about you and just hope you’re doing alright.

I stared up at the ceiling again, my heart relaxing its frenzied beat for a moment. “Thank you.”

Hey, all good. Sorry for the late reply. Appreciate it, doing just fine.

Chase: that’s great, but I’ve been hearing other things, so I don’t buy that. Look, again, this isn’t my place but I know Y/N hurt you that night. I can’t sit here and apologize on her behalf, but, I can at least tell you this: she isn’t doing well either; and as someone with two fucking eyes; I can see how much you mean to each other. Some birdies have been telling me you’re drinking yourself into a coma and acting a fool. I apologize for the harshness, but let me ask you this, do you think Y/N wants another Trey? You’re fucking better than that, aren’t you? Do you want to end up as another deadbeat musician with nothing to show for it but a bottle? No, I don’t know you that well but I can see you’re not that guy.

Do yourself a favor and do fucking better. Because she deserves better and so do you. So y’all can sort this soap opera shit out. Talk to you soon, I fucking hope. ✌️

With my phone clattering to the floor, the message left on read, I continued to lie in my bed; the pillow suffocating my mouth and nose.

“I’m not Trey. I’m fucking better than him,” I sat up quickly in bed, my hangover still raging inside my head.

Music is all I have, it’s all lived for-that was until I met her.

With the small get-together happening downstairs still, I ran to the bathroom across the hall to throw up any contents of lingering alcohol and pita chips. I washed my face and brushed my hair out, for the first time in weeks looking somewhat presentable.

“Get it together, you fucking dick.” I pointed a firm finger at my reflection in the mirror, thankful I didn’t see the ghost of Y/N staring back at me. “Do it for the band, do it for your music. Do it for her.”

To some, my shaky words might not have a strong belief but they did to me. It left me with the belief that miracles, no matter how inexplicable or unbelievable, are real and can occur without regard to the natural order of things. Keaton’s sign proved that.

“Just come back to me,” I whispered with trembling lips.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #enemies to lovers #right person wrong time #starcrossed lovers

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randoimago · 1 year ago

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Hi! I saw your requests were open and wanted to throw a kinda chaotic one at you! How would Shadowheart and Karlach react to find their Tav sleeping in the strangest places? Like why are they just snoozing on the ground when the bed is right there? Oh shit they’re laying in a tree like a jungle cat! Tiny closet at an Inn, oh look Tav is in there. How the fuck did they get to that tiny ledge on the cliff wall? Oh guess they climbed up because there’s a sunny spot, well they’re only twelve feet up I’m sure they’ll get down somehow

Finding Tav Sleeping in Random Ass Places

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Character(s): Karlach, Shadowheart

Type of Request: Headcanons

Note(s): Chaotic asks are fun especially with the chaotic shit that you can do in BG3

Karlach

The first few times, she got a bit worried when she couldn't find you. Her calling out to you like a lost cat probably woke you up from wherever you slept.

But then she learns that you sometimes burrow into hollowed out tree trunks and nap. Her claustrophobia would never allow her to do that, but good on you getting some sleep! Karlach can't help but make a pained face at imagining what kind of joint pain you'll have.

Karlach would attempt to take naps with you, but she can't. She's too big for most of your sleeping spots or she doesn't want to commit to how high up they are. Now, if you wanted to fall asleep while slung over her shoulder or something then she'd be happier with it.

Shadowheart

She's asking around camp about where you went because she wants to talk about something. It isn't until she sees the rustling in a tree and notices that it's you and not a squirrel that she lets out a, "Huh."

She's very amused with the spots you sleep in. Just call for her if you're attacked by an angry bird or something and you need healing.

While it is amusing to see all the random places you sleep, she would like to actually lay in a bed or in a tent to sleep with you (in more ways then one). Might make some "You know, I wouldn't be using all my spell slots to heal if you slept normally," comments due to healing any scrapes or fall damage that occured from you getting out of whatever spot you were sleeping in.

Taglists: @reo-the-leo @unhelpfulnpc

#littlethingsbigpicture #baldurs gate x reader #bg3 x reader #shadowheart x reader #karlach x reader

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eve-reviews · 9 months ago

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ㅤ Once Upon a Time is a thirteen-year old’s fanfiction that was found by the creators of Lost and stolen for a show in hopes of making some money off the teen population. If the half-formed faux-edgy characters or bad acting doesn’t sell you on just how poorly this show was made, the terrible CGI definitely will. The first season revolves around a character named Emma Swan, aka The Savior, coming to the town of Storybrooke where her son tries to convince her that the town is actually full of fairytale characters that are under a memory erasing spell. The show has a way of making you forget that you’re watching a fairytale story until later you realize that “Oh! They just had Prince Charming cheat on his wife with Snow White. And then The Evil Queen framed Snow White for the murder of Prince Charming’s wife by hiding that wife’s heart in a box in the place Snow and Charming would always meet.”

ㅤ While the first season seems Wild, each subsequent season tries to outdo itself. The following seasons follow a clear formula constantly trying to convince you that it’s a good show. The creator’s favorite persuasion is to twist the usual fairytale stories and then play a dramatic stinger underneath it as if to convince the viewer to say, “oh shit!” Each time it makes this attempt, I am met with an intense feeling, but not the intended one. It’s a burst of laughter, a burn of secondhand embarrassment, and the impulse to share it with a friend so I don’t have to go through it alone (and may I say, I think my friends are starting to get sick of me).

The show is held together by attempts to be a show that makes the viewer sit at the edge of the seat waiting to see what happens next. These attempts often involve corrupting or redeeming a “good” or “evil” character respectively. While the show constantly brings in numerous characters from Disney movies or any other existing story for that matter (such as Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, or 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea), it seems to forget this sometimes, so we are left with characters who have been corrupted and redeemed 6 times alone (in Rumpelstiltskin’s case).

Might I also add that the show often does a twist saying that two fairytale characters were actually the same one. If we take Rumpelstiltskin as an example again, he is at least three different characters off the top of my head. He also happens to be the Crocodile from Peter Pan and the Beast from Beauty and the Beast. This isn’t even counting the family tree. Please feel free to skip the rest of this paragraph while I sort that out. Rumpelstiltskin is the son of Peter Pan (who’s evil) and the Black Fairy (who’s the origin of all evil or something?). He has a grandson, Henry, who is also the grandson of Snow White and Prince Charming. Henry also happens to be the adopted son of Regina, aka The Evil Queen. Regina if the daughter of the Queen of hearts and the sister of the Wicked Witch of the West. She’s also Snow White’s step-mother. Regina also happens to be soulmates with Robin Hood, who’s previous wife was sentenced to death by Regina before the curse. And Robin also had a daughter with the Wicked Witch but he didn’t know it was her at the time because she was pretending to be his dead wife.

I’m stopping myself there. If you read any of that, you now hopefully know how complicated the lore is and how near impossible it is to explain. You may have also gleaned how fucking stupid it is. That was all just a small section of the family tree. The actual lore of this show involves people who are definitively good or evil (but they can be redeemed) and authors who are all powerful gods who control Everything but are also just Some Guy. And of course, a being of pure light magic called The Savior (Emma Swan aka Snow White and Prince Charming’s child) and a being of pure dark magic called The Dark One (Rumplestiltskin). I forced myself through the show. High out of my mind if I had to. And I gotta say, folks.

I kinda love this show.

At some point it starts to get confusing what the creators were thinking while making this show. You drive yourself crazy trying to put yourself in their heads. Do they know how dogshit it is? Are they trying to convince me this dogshit is actually fucking ratatouille? Or do they know it’s bad?

By the end of season 6, I started to get the feeling that the writers had finally decided to accept that no one in the universe would consider this a good show; however, the show must go on so they may as well have fun with it. They finally left behind the attempts and just leaned into how bizarre the lore they’re spun truly is. They timeskip and they say. “Hey. We know that we’ve gone too far. We know we crossed a line somewhere along the way. But buddy? We’re not turning around. We’re gonna find throw back some brewskis and have a little fun.” And they decide to say that, “Actually? All those characters you just saw? The seemingly infinite number of them? That’s just the start. They’re just one of an actually infinite number of that same character that exists in the multiverse. We’re gonna make a new main character and she’s gonna be Cinderella. Yes, I know we already introduced Cinderella in season one. But this is a different Cinderella. From a different thirteen tear old’s fanfiction. “

And so it becomes a show that clearly knows it’s bad. And I sit there and realize I had fun. And I realize that I’m still having fun. And I realize that that was the point. I spent the whole show taking everything so seriously, and for that, I partially blame the show for taking itself seriously. But somewhere along the way, the show stopped. And I followed suit shortly after. And it was fun.

I loved watching Once Upon a Time.

#once upon a time #ouat #ouat spoilers #Once Upon a Time spoilers

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teyums · 2 years ago

Text

“Everyone knows. Everyone knows. She f*cks you.”

Ao’nung headcanon (no use of yn!)

⚠️ All characters are age 18 or over in this story. I will not write Ao’nung in a suggestive manner unless he is aged up.

Wc: 1.2k

I myself haven’t seen anyone write Ao’nung as submissive so I was happy to. And personally, I think this fits him way more hehe. 🤭

includes: suggestive/strong language.

part two

• Because Ao’nung is such a dickhead and so headstrong all the time, I think its pretty damn obvious that it’s merely a tough front he puts on to throw any one off from finding out he’s submissive as hell, especially you. He’s actually a sucker for the woman he loves. This man literally WORSHIPS the ground you walk on and he lives for that shit. That big and bad act is simply a disguise to hide the fact that he’s actually a bitch boy. He would definitely listen to whatever you say and follow your directions to a T.

•He’s had women pine after him before but they quickly gave up because he’s so damn rude, leaving him with zero potential mates before you came along. No other na’vi woman was willing to put up with his attitude, or better yet, see right through that shit and squash it like you did. Or maybe no other woman had the power to. The mere thought of you was enough to get this man off, he was like putty in your hands; completely infatuated with you.

Something in your bones always told you that bully act was one big bluff. The first time Ao’nung hurt your feelings while you were dating, you denied his want to touch you for two whole days. When he expressed his disapproval of your decision, you made him get on his knees and beg for forgiveness, or he wouldn’t be able to touch you for two weeks. Two weeks without touching you for Ao’nung would feel like two years. It’s not a surprise that he’s incredibly clingy and gets upset when he can’t be near you 24/7, so you knew exactly what to hold against him when he made you mad. Jeez, what a fuckin baby. Talk about mommy issues.

“Baby, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean it, will you forgive me?” He spoke softly and looked down at you with doe eyes, hoping to get off the hook and have this be over with. You stood in front of him and let out a dry laugh, arms crossed and expression unamused. Now he knew good and well you wouldn’t go that easy. Him being an entire foot taller than you didn’t phase you and he knew that. Some of the other men laughed when they would see a sight such as this. How is such a small, feeble woman controlling the olo’eyktan’s son like she’s his handler? What kind of spell did you put on him?

You stared up at Ao’nung through your long lashes, hard. Completely unwavered by his attempt at winning you over.

He sighed and reached for you, but before he could even brush a finger against your arm you swatted his hand away.

“You don’t get to touch.” You hissed, earning a whine and almost a frustrated stomp from the boy who seemed sooo tough.

God, you loved to see him squirm.

“Beg for it.” You demanded, your gaze mean and unfaltering. You didn’t feel bad, Ao’nung treated everyone else like this and you were simply giving him a taste of his own medicine. Besides, he liked it anyway. The boy has a thing for dominant women, who would have guessed.

He sighed, looking around at the other na’vi strolling on the beach and cursing under his breath. “Please, please forgive me.” He spoke, sounding so much smaller than before, both in voice and confidence.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Is this what you call begging, Ao’nung? That’s pathetic, you know better. Do not waste my time.”

“Ugh… right now? Like, here? People will see me.” He lifted his hand to rub the back of his neck and spoke in a hushed tone so nobody around would hear what he was saying. He had an image to uphold, the tough son of the olo’eyktan who didn’t take shit from anybody and gave shit to everybody. If anyone saw you controlling him like this, he feared it would damage his “reputation”. Or more so his ego.

You didn’t care though, this shit turned you on. And no matter how much he complained about it, you knew it turned him on too. He would never hide the way he looked at you as if he wanted to pounce, and his body gave him up as if you had offered it a cash reward.

“Fine, three weeks.” You responded plainly and shrugged after upping his timeout, turning on your heels to walk until he grabbed your wrist and sunk down to his knees before your footing could even change in the sand.

“Wait, wait! Please, my love… I’m sorry” He apologized, genuinely this time. You could hear the desperation in his voice and it made your core tingle with need. He held your smaller sized hand in both of his much larger ones and pressed his lips against the back of it, smothering it with kisses incessantly and apologizing between each one.

Ao’nung was aware of what he had just been told, no touching. But he couldn’t help himself, he needed his hands on you every minute of the day, whether it be him kissing the back of your hand as if you were royalty or you playing in his hair while he dozed away on your chest. At this point, you had long forgiven him but seeing this big so called ‘bully’ down on his knees in front of you to earn back something so simple as the right to touch you, made you hot. You raised an eyebrow and lifted your chin at him, taking your hand back and placing your hands on your hips in an attempt to look unimpressed.

His eyes widened slightly and he shook his head, wrapping his muscular arms around your torso he hugged you tightly from below.

“Please princess, I will do anything… whatever you want. I’ll be good from now on, I promise. Just take me off punishment.” He whined desperately, the side of his face pressed just below your navel, his grip on you strong.

Feeling your breath quietly catch in your throat as you watched him, you re-centered yourself to stop your legs from trembling. Many thoughts passed through your mind and you felt your skin heating up with his face pressed up against your body. You hummed, trying to decide on one of many options and gently brushing your fingers back between the lines of scalp next to his braids.

“Anything I want?” You cooed, chewing on your bottom lip slightly and earning an instant nod from the boy who was at your complete disposal.

“Ao’nung, up.” You beckoned and used your hand to raise his chin, seeing him look up at you in admiration from below as he quickly rose back to his feet at your direction. Taking his hand, you eyed him up and down deviously while he became more and more impatient with every second that passed. The shadow on his loincloth looked much different than it did when this conversation had started. The fabric was beginning to stretch, becoming taut and hinting at his arousal. He witnessed hunger and desire cloud your eyes, his tongue peeking out to lick at his bottom lip and his eyes watching you feverishly while he waited on your next move.

“Come.” You giggled, turning around and pulling him along like a lost puppy. A sigh of relief left his lips and the goofiest smile painted its way onto his face. You could damn near see the hearts flying in a halo around this boy’s head, he was so lovestruck. His ears perked up and his stride looked drunken as he allowed you to drag him back to your tent, his eyes falling to your backside and exposing how eager he was to fulfill whatever promise he had made to you.

a/n: Alright I’m back in my groove now yall! This was so fun to write and it came to me so easily. I’m a sucker for obedient men who do as they’re told, what can I say. 🫠 I’m not sure how far in detail i’ll go when it comes to smut with ao’nung or neteyam (aged up ofc). I do know that I’ll probably get requests for multiple parts so If I write more you might see an increase in strong language or suggestive/m🅰️ture themes but I’ll have to see about that. I hope you guys enjoyed! Please like and reblog if you can, it’s much appreciated. 💞

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