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all-purpose-dish-soap · 2 months

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1.2k / 18 / soap soulmate au, part 1

...

You're Soap's enemy. One of Graves' Shadows. You just betrayed him, and now he's seeing his name tattooed across your skin. The Las Almas night nearly eclipses the soulmark's inky color. But it's there, clear as day. He can't wrap his adrenaline-addled mind around it.

He ghosts up behind where you're posted--pacing, patrolling, on the lookout for him--and wraps his hand around your mouth. You react in surprise, grabbing his wrist. But before you can twist out of his grasp, he slides the blade of your fallen Shadow's knife against your back.

If you're his soulmate, it changes nothing. He'll still be one man against dozens, chances slim to none that he'll make it out of this alive. But he has to know.

"You," he growls. "What's your name?"

You still. You're trained to keep a cool head under far more extreme circumstances than this.

"Your name," Soap repeats, voice like gravel.

He loosens his grip just enough to let you speak.

You release a slow breath out. "Classified."

He increases the pressure of his knife against your back. "That bastard Graves trusts you, aye? Not many others posted this way. Nobody'll find you for awhile." He presses the tip of the knife back into the fabric of your uniform. He'll keep the pressure there until he gets what he wants. "Your full name."

You say nothing for a long moment. But then, you see no reason to die overlooking these twisting Las Almas alleyways. You tell him your full name.

It confirms what he already knows. It's the name printed on his own skin, the name he's repeated to himself thousands of times over. The knife disappears from your back.

"Look at me," he tells you.

You push his arm away and turn on him, drawing your sidearm and training it at his chest. You step back, looking him up and down. "You're the one we're looking for. Aren't you? Capture or kill--" Your voice falters when you see he pulls his shirtsleeve up, revealing his own soulmate. He doesn't give you one goddamn second to try to deny it or turn your eyes away the way you've been trained. Your name. Tattooed on your target's arm.

Seeing you eye to eye, Soap's breath catches in his throat. His own name on the side of your neck is clear as day to him now.

"You're her," he says, still not quite believing it.

You take another step back. What are you supposed to do? You should shoot him, yes, but could you even make your finger pull the fucking trigger now? You lower your gun, but you don't put it away.

"You should go," you tell him, voice low. "Now."

But he doesn't move. He wants to take this moment in, study your face, memorize every detail. You're the real thing. His blue eyes stay locked onto yours, and a myriad of scenarios play through his mind, just like yours. What happens if he leaves? Will he be able to find you again?

He takes a step toward you.

"Don't do that," you warn him, sliding back a step to keep the same distance between you. "Don't make me hurt you."

"You wouldn't." He moves for you now with the confidence of a man who believes that, too. He wants to touch you again. Just to make sure you're really here. His voice is rough and thick. "I need to look at you."

You bite down on a gasp when your heel knocks against the wall. He's getting too close. You can't let your control on the situation slip. You can't forget why you're here or what will happen if Graves finds out about this.

"Back off," you warn him again. You still have your sidearm in hand, but you're terrified he's right--pointing it at him is an empty threat.

"Can't."

He moves in close to you, his breath hot on your neck. You swear you can feel his body heat through the layers of both your uniforms. Your nerves are on fire. His scent is everywhere. This can't be happening. Not now. It should be a dream, meeting your soulmate, but it's a nightmare.

"Listen to me," you force out. "They'll find you and kill you. Leave. Now."

"Can't." Soap is close enough to whisper it into your ear. His hands close around your arms. "Can't think straight with you in front of me." His gaze darkens as he pushes forward, pressing you into the wall and pinning you there. If he's not going to live to see morning, he's going to kiss you. He has to taste you.

You hear another Shadow under you, boots thudding against the metal stairs, scaling up to your lookout perch.

You try to fight the panic welling up in your throat. You could both be shot for this. Killed for it. Worse.

You can't let them see him. If you give him what he wants, he'll go, right?

You grab his collar and pull him forward, meeting his lips in a searing kiss. His lips feel like stubble and taste like blood. He shudders, feeling your body suddenly pressed against his. He deepens the kiss. He's starving, but it's not enough. Just the taste and feel of you isn't enough. His fingers weave into your hair and he pulls you close, pressing even harder against your body.

You forget yourself for a moment. Your brain chemistry shifts hard, heat and want burning in your veins.

Then you hear voices from below and reality washes over you again. With a strangled groan, you push him away. "God damn you. Hide."

Soap has to force himself to let you go. It takes every ounce of control to keep from reaching for you again. But the look in your eyes when you push him away... he knows you've crossed a line.

He disappears the moment two more Shadows crest the top of the iron staircase.

You avoid rousing suspicion as you lie to your allies' faces, reporting no sightings of either target. By the time you're forced to leave your post and follow the others back to the nearest rendezvous point, you're resigned to never seeing him again. It's better not to wonder.

All you can think about are his fingers weaving into your hair, his lips on yours, the burning grip of his hands around your wrists. You tell yourself not to think about it... but then your mind goes back to it, over and over. No matter how much you tell yourself it's better not to fantasize.

Even when you learn he evaded capture, he's a wanted man. A dead man walking. You're better off pretending you never saw your name tattooed on his skin.

...

There is no other thought on Soap's mind but you long after he slips away into the Las Almas night. The sight of you leaving with the other Shadows haunts him when he closes his eyes. He wakes up adrenalized, thinking about you in his hands, his heart pounding like it could punch through his rib cage.

His soulmate got away, and the weight of regret is setting in.

...

[part 1] / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10

more Soap / masterlist tag

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luveline · 1 year

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𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯��𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

miguel can’t control himself when you get hurt in the field —a ficlet featuring an irritated (lovesick) miguel and a flirty, distracted spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. requested he re, fem!reader, 2.5k

tw. fighting, injury, blood

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Miguel watches the screen in front of him unhappily.

"Spider-Girl," he says. Two people answer him. He sighs. "Y/N," he amends, "you're being reckless."

The little droid camera that follows you around circles your head as you swing from one place to another. "I'm being good," you deny.

Miguel would never tell you this, but he loves how you speak. Sure, almost every word you say annoys him, but the cadence of your voice is melodic and addictive at once. And Miguel knows you're nice to everyone, but it's him alone that has you speaking so softly.

You do it to torture him, he's sure.

"You're doing well, but you'd be better if you didn't free fall for so long. Mechanical failure can happen at any minute," Miguel says.

"Then one of the others will catch me."

"And if there's no team member close by? I'm supposed to come and scrape you off of the sidewalk?"

"Miguel," you say gently. He can tell what mood you're in today. "They have people for that."

"Could you just do as I asked you to?"

"Ah, but you haven't asked me anything."

"Please," he says, "focus on the task at hand, and use your webs cautiously."

You make a chirping sound that feels more laughter than affirmation, but you do as he requests, reducing the length of time between each web shot. You're in New York, Earth-1844, attempting to send home an unhappy Doc Ock variant whose mechanical arms are immensely technologically advanced, even when compared to Nueva York's futurism.

Miguel had sent you along with a rather large team, one. because a big team was necessary for the task, two. because you'd asked and he has trouble saying no to you, and three. because if you'd spent another hour in his office today he actually might have given into temptation, which wouldn't be good for anybody.

Miguel is used to doing what needs to be done rather than what he'd like, these days. So while he wants to indulge you and your fanciful suggestions —I'm not heavy, handsome, please, you won't even notice I'm in your lap, your thighs are so wide— he can't. He has things to do. Things that cannot endure distraction.

"Woo!" you cheer through laughter, letting your shoes skim the floor in an especially dangerous manoeuvre. The adrenaline turns you giddy. "Holy crap."

Oh, right, that's why he resists temptation —he hates you. (He doesn't hate you.) He hates you and your disregard for your own safety, he hates your rejection of his authority, and he hates the stupid sweet sound you make when you're excited.

"Do you listen to me and then forget what I've said, or do you not understand the English language?" he asks.

You land on a rooftop overlooking the centre of Future Doc Ock's destruction. "Well, I've been learning Spanish. We could always try that," you suggest.

"Why have you been learning Spanish?" he asks.

"Coquetear contigo," you say, your pronunciation all over the place. To flirt with you.

"Qué maravilla," he mutters.

"I don't know that one, handsome, so I'm going to assume it was a love confession or something similar." You sound so overly fond he has to tense his jaw. "Gwen, where are you?"

"I'm over here?"

Gwen is wrapped up tightly in a metal tentacle. It shakes her around fanatically. Miguel swears and zooms in on her location, watching in apprehension as she attempts to free herself while the arm creaks, tightening, tightening.

"Woah," you say, taking a running jump off of the rooftop. "Can you believe it? I'm not the first one who needs rescuing."

Hobie Brown reaches Gwen before you can, and he makes an impressive rescue. You divert your path, shooting a web at the glass dome covering Future Doc Ock's head. Miguel crosses his arms across his chest. Wannabe Mysterio loser, he thinks, and then, when you've smashed a hole into the dome with a generously momentous kick, Nice.

He doesn't suppose Doc Ock was expecting a kick to the jaw today.

You hiss as you propel yourself away from him, another web shot at a nearby lamppost. It does something funny to his chest when he hears you whine in pain, but he's too distracted to ask what's wrong —he scours your droid's view for an answer, finds it red and saturating the fabric of your suit.

"Why are you bleeding, Spider-Girl?" he asks, gaze drawn to the main screen where Dock Ock shouts belligerent threats at an approaching Spider-Man.

"No biggie," you say, hissing again, "I think I cut my leg on the glass. I need a better suit."

"Can you walk?"

"I'm fine," you say with a sniffle. From the amount of blood, the cut is deep. "Is it me, or is it dusty in here?"

It definitely hurts if it's making you cry, though maybe you're unprepared. This was a bad idea, you aren't as seasoned as the others, and he knows you don't know what you're doing yet. You need more time, more practice. You've hurt yourself in the field on your very first mission, and you don't have the pain threshold or the super-healing necessary to cope.

It's his fault for letting you go.

"Prepare for extraction," he says.

"No! No way, are you kidding? I'm fine, I– I can do this."

"Y/N," he warns.

You fling yourself from the lamppost with impressive grace considering your injury and join the fight once again. Miguel can't keep an eye on you like he wants to, as the alarm that indicates an anomaly begins to sound. He's forced to rush together a second team while the elite strike force are preoccupied, yanking members of Spider-Society from their goings abouts, Lyla in his ear recommending effective combinations and fighting styles. From that point on, he has to supervise two different missions, his head pounding with effort.

His hands itch. He should be out there. Miguel is the cream of the crop and he isn't shy to admit that. He's a good fighter, but he can't be everywhere at once, and most of the anomalies they face require multiple sets of hands to fix. So he forces himself to stay put and guide the teams through each fight, sick to his stomach with every bloody footprint you leave behind.

He's following Hobie Brown and offering rejected instruction when he sees you go down. He toggles your voice channel and catches the end of a high-pitched, "Oof," the air-knocked from your lungs forcibly as you hit the ground. The tentacle that propelled you veers up for a finishing blow, and three different webs catch it and pull it backward.

It's a blur. One minute Miguel's in the control room at Spider-Society headquarters, the next he's breathing in the smoggy air of New York, Earth-1844, concrete and asphalt torn up under his hands. Lyla speaks in his ear and he's deaf to her, his focus pointed with only one thing in mind.

The restraint it takes not to wipe Doc Ock from the face of the dimension is incalculable. Miguel can't quite believe his own moderation as he orchestrates the return of the anomaly, your body on the ground in the corner of his eye.

The second the situation is under control, he runs to you. His gloves hit the ground with a thud by your hip, as do his knees. Spider-Man, a Peter Parker from Earth-751263, has already set nanobots over your prone figure, tiny spider-like creatures that leave webbing bandages in their wake, closing the sluggish wound on your calf. But nanotech won't fix a broken spine, not in the field. Miguel needs a stretcher. He needs to get you home.

"Miguel," you say, drawing his gaze from your slow-rising chest, "I can't breathe.

He slides his thumb as gently as he can into the seam of your mask and eases it off. "You're winded."

You cough. The sound is disturbingly wet, but your lips remain unsullied. Miguel can't look at you in this much pain, and he won't: he stands, and he takes control.

—

You're not in nearly as much pain as you should be, because Doctor Spider-Man gave you the good stuff. "Your healing isn't nearly as expedited as most of us," he'd said.

"Is this medical discrimination?" you'd asked, faking a serious concern. "Do I need to talk to Spider-Lawyer?"

You found it funny. He maybe didn't, but he gave you an extra dose and told you to rest up before leaving. Resting at the Society medbay isn't easy because Spider People are constantly filtering in and out of the ward for check-ups, medication, and corrections.

It's also not easy because most Spider People are incredibly lonely in their home dimensions, and incredibly friendly here. When Miguel finally comes to visit you, you have a Spider-Girl from a few dimensions over who has the same biological mother as you but a different father sitting to your left —she's trippy and adorable, if you do say so yourself— two Peter Parkers to your right, and a melting pot of currency lost in the white linen sheets over your legs.

They get one good look at Miguel and put down their playing cards.

The Peter Parkers slink off together promising to come and see you again sometime, and your variant stops just shy of Miguel's position to look him up and down affectionately.

"Go away," he says.

She beams at him. "Okay."

"You can't help it, can you?" he asks after she's gone, picking a rogue playing card up from the end of your bed. He twiddles it between his index and middle finger, the card shushing with each turn.

You sit up in bed and try to straighten out the sheets, hoping to entice him. You don't bother answering his question. It barely sounded like one.

"I'm hurt, you know?" you ask.

"I know. I told you to retreat."

"No, I'm hurt it took you so long to visit me," you say. You're putting on airs. Truthfully, you genuinely are a little hurt, but your voice is soft and dreamy as always. "I thought we were friends."

"Ah, because you need more of those."

You sink down into your pillows, your knees hiked. "I really can't help it if people like me. And you'd know."

Miguel surprises you by sitting down. He faces away from you, his thigh just shy of your feet below the sheets, and it's only then you realise he's tense. He's in civvies for a change, a t-shirt stretched tight across his broad shoulders and chest and regular black sweatpants. He's wearing converse.

You look at him through a squint. "Did you hit your head, too?"

"I'm off-duty."

"I just never pictured you in sneakers."

"How do you picture me?" he asks, neck craned to look at you, his chin touching his shoulder. He has dark circles under his eyes and his brows are ruffled on one side.

You let your knees fall to one side and pull your legs to your chest, hoping to entice him closer. "You're not sleeping well?"

Miguel doesn't answer your inquiry. In fact, he falls silent. His eyes are on your hands where they're bunched at your chest, his dark flush of lashes twitching as his gaze tracks along the column of your throat, your jaw, and finally, your face.

"If you were anyone else," he says eventually, "you'd be benched."

"I'm not benched?" you ask.

"You disobeyed a direct order," he says, "and your actions affected the people around you. Someone else could've been hurt protecting you. You have to listen to what I'm telling you to do, or this is never going to work."

You look at the hospital bed railing rather than face his disappointment.

"But it's my fault."

"What?" you ask, startled.

"It's my fault you got hurt. I knew you couldn't handle it, and I let you go anyway. I'm… I'm weak."

"What are you talking about?" you ask. "Weak? You're the strongest person here, with or without Rapture."

He flinches at the drug's name.

You lay there, paralysed by your own mistake, your big mouth ruining everything for the thousandth time. If there's one thing you know about Miguel, it's that you never mention his weaknesses. His drug. His last attempt at a full life. You might be light-hearted, a free spirit, but you're far from stupid usually. Your emotional intelligence must've got lost somewhere on Earth-1844.

"Sorry," you murmur, looking at him from under your lashes. "I didn't mean…"

Slowly, so slowly, he puts his hand on your leg. It doesn't hurt, you've been medicated and stitched and his touch is far from cruel, but you're so startled that your breath gets caught in your throat. Miguel doesn't touch you unless he's giving you a vague reprimand, moving your hand from a button you shouldn't touch or a door you're not allowed to open.

"I let you go on that mission, knowing you weren't ready, because you asked me to let you. I put selfish motivations over your safety. It won't happen again."

You're not as brave as you think you are. You try to hold his hand but it looks so big, and you've never had him this close to you of his own accord. You're a moment away from nervous goosebumps.

He looks up at your touch, your pinky finger wrapped over his, smaller and shorter but with the same pattern of calluses, skin abraded by tight gloves and rough surfaces.

"Selfish motivations," you repeat in a murmur.

"I don't– like saying no. To you." He couldn't sound more unhappy to admit it.

"You say no to me all the time," you say. You don't mean to, but suddenly you're folding your fingers over his, forcing him to hold your hand. He doesn't stop you. He doesn't let go. "Like, ten times a day."

"It's difficult." Your complaint is a blessing for him —the atmosphere around you shifts to something less vulnerable, and his permanently chagrined personality rears its head once again. He raises his eyebrows. "You make my life extremely difficult," he says flatly.

"You make my life difficult, too," you say.

You can't help but give him your fondest smile, your lashes kissing in the corners of your eyes.

He visibly softens. His thumb rubs the back of your hand, just once.

"Fantastic," he says, looking firmly away from you. "Great."

"Isn't it?" you ask happily.

He squeezes your fingers gently. It's almost imperceptible. "Yeah, it is," he says.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! also, im sorry if you already speak spanish i realised after that that detail was subjective to the reader, sorry!

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missglaskin · 1 month

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Yandere S.T.A.R.S Team (Resident Evil) platonic headcanons

Note- I am back (It's been years), this has been in my drafts so I said fuck it/this is so messy and the timeline/canon may not be accurate but enjoy! This is mainly platonic, but w/some characters it could be interpreted romantically

Characters; Albert Wesker, Chris Redfield, Jill Valentine, Rebecca Chambers, Barry Burton, Joseph Forest, Brad Vickers, Forest Speyer, Richard Aiken, Enrico Marini, Kenneth Sullivan, Edward Dewey

The first person you perhaps meet is Albert; he is the leader of the S.T.A.R.S Team. Not only do all the recruiters get approved by him, but he also overlooks all your tests. He greets you like any other, but gradually something takes a hold of him. He's in denial at first, even seeming harsh. You may initially believe he didn't like you; oblivious to the countless files and cameras hidden everywhere.

Having the rest of the team be just as enamored was not on the table. You are immediately welcomed by the team and Rebecca is the first to befriend you since you two are the youngest of the team. Like how Richard was tasked with watching over Rebecca, he’s tasked with the same responsibility over you (even if Wesker preferred to do it himself).

Chris can't help but grow quickly fond of you. He positions himself in the role of your protector; feeling the utmost responsibility for your happiness and safety. So if you have any problems - whether it's with Chief Irons or getting in trouble for say, breaking a rule; trust he'll be quick to intervene and 'save' the day.

You're all Chris ever talks about to Claire and before long, the two of you cross paths. Claire, like her brother assumes herself in the role of being your friend right away. She occasionally pays you visits and you can be sure that you will receive calls from times when she's unable to visit. Claire expects Chris to keep her informed of you at all times.

Barry, Enrico, and Kenneth all take fatherly roles; they look at you and already placed adopted papers on the table ready for you to sign. It makes it all the harder for Wesker to have any absolute control as they all put their foot down.

Barry adores you and it’s not taken lightly when it’s said he treats you as his child, probably cause he views you as actually one of his own. He invites you to a family dinner, introducing you to his family who all naturally take a liking to you. Barry insists on his house always being open if you need a place to stay or run into trouble.

Since Barry sees you as his own, there is a never-end to his dad jokes. Even when you comment on how terrible it is, he likes seeing the smile on your face. Trust you'll be invited to every birthday, barbecue, or any family Burton event.

Enrico while he adopted a fatherly role, he was a bit reluctant to get so attached to you. He’s the few in the team who's fully aware and doesn't hesitate to call out the others when he thinks they are going too far. He worries a lot about your safety, and most times it's Enrico who comes out on top of arguments on who gets to drive you home.

Kenneth as the oldest of the team, feels the most responsible for you. He is aware just like Enrico and doesn't wish for you to be scared of him or the team. He wants you to come to him whenever you need anything, even for small tasks such as finding a specific file. Like Enrico, Kenneth has no problem telling the others to back off if you need space.

More trouble comes along when Forest and Joseph come along. They develop their tendencies the quickest and tend to be the most clingy out of the team. They (along with Chris) become your partners in crime.

Joseph is someone you can always count on to make you smile even in the most serious of situations; he doesn’t care when others lecture him for it. You're not safe from his teasing. Granted you're not the target of his pranks but he likes to poke fun at you from time to time. It's why no alarms are ringing in your head when he says something questionable, assuming he’s just being Joseph.

You're not safe from Forest's playful teasings either. He can be a little annoying, poking your cheek or trying to tickle you when wanting your attention. Like Joseph, he's very affectionate, putting his arm around your shoulder and resting his head on your lap if you allow it. The others lecture him for doing it so publicly but Joseph knows it's jealousy talking more than anything.

As said, a squad of its own is formed; Chris, Joseph, Forest, and you. While they tend to be jealous, the three are okay with sharing when it comes to each other. Forest and Chris enjoy competing in shoot training and showing off who can do it better, inviting you to place bets. They're happy to show you all the gun's tricks and let you choose your weapon's signature.

Joseph, being a mechanic, can't always spend as much time with you. But he'll eagerly drag you into teaching you the ropes, whisking you away from the other two. He beams with pride when you grasp something from his impromptu lessons. Even if he's not exactly teaching you anything, he's happy to chat about anything as he works.

Jill becomes someone you’re close to, someone whom Chris and Barry trust to leave you alone with. She’s not afraid to whisk you away from the others when she wants to and won’t hesitate to call out anyone selfishly taking your time (Uhm Joseph).

Most of all, Jill loves having girl time with you. She's there for any fashion advice, gladly taking you shopping to revamp your wardrobe. If you're unsure how to do your makeup, she's eager to help, though Jill never wants to teach you so you can keep coming to her.

Jill is also willing to use any excuse to have you stay over at her place anytime even suggesting sharing an apartment to ‘save money”. And if you think Wesker’s the only one with a bunch of files, Jill has a hidden drawer filled with everything she has on you.

Brad becomes incredibly attached but is a bit shy about approaching you. He'll do little things to make your day better, like bringing your favorite coffee (watching you do it too many times) or organizing your desk just the way you like it.

Brad tries to agree with everything you do, supporting any ideas you bring forth in, team meetings and hesitates to snitch on you, always trying to talk to you first to prevent trouble (aka punishments). Similar to Kenneth, he's aware of his tendencies and doesn't want you to fear him.

Richard is the softest guy on the team as said, was tasked with watching over you and quickly grew fond of you, He has made it well known that if you ever need help you can seek him out even when you get in trouble, he’ll gladly keep it hidden from the others to avoid you being in trouble even taking the brunt of it.

If you find yourself spending time with Richard, trust that Rebecca is there, too, being the sweetest in the group as well. Initially, she might not fully grasp her tendencies, but once she does, her sole concern is your safety and happiness. She frowns upon hearing Jill and Chris discussing ways to keep you confined and is the one who tries to reassure the others not to be too 'harsh' on you.

Edward may appear intimidating, but he's actually a softie at heart. While he might not warm up to you as quickly as Forest and Joseph did, given some time, he grows fond of you and eventually places him as your trusted friend. He's aware that his demeanor can be intimidating and desires nothing more than for you to feel comfortable opening up to him, always offering a smile whenever he sees you around the RPD.

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

Chief Irons has learned that you're the one person he can't even dare to go near. You might be a troublemaker, breaking every rule in the book, but Albert will put his foot down to ensure nothing comes of it. It's enough that the rest of the team has a dislike towards Irons, and he, along with everyone in the RPD, knows that crossing you means crossing the Stars team.

Wesker also keeps the extent of his monitoring and knowledge of you a closely guarded secret. He's aware that Kenneth, Enrico, Richie, Edward, and Barry all vocally dislike the idea of 'stalking' you in such ways (they all do but try to keep it as ‘morally right’). In his grand plan, he hopes to lure you away, but he must do it in a way that won't raise suspicion.

You have the most protective people watching over you. Even a simple accident like someone spilling a cup on you puts everyone on high alert.

Your favoritism doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the RPD, sparking rumors around the station that Edward and Barry quickly shut down whenever they hear someone bad-mouthing you.

Chris and Forest, on the other hand, can be incredibly impulsive, leading to all sorts of issues that Wesker and Enrico have to deal with. Jill and Joseph even got in trouble once for punching someone.

That means going on no dangerous missions; the one thing they all agree on. Wesker ensures that all your missions are carefully managed, eliminating any risks of you being in danger, and he pretends not to know what you mean if you ask. The other members are willing to gaslight you, suggesting that you just happen to get the easy ones, even Rebecca and Brad.

They're all eager to fight each other to train you, each claiming they're better at teaching you self-defense. Chris and Forest are the ones who usually end up teaching you since they're often the first ones to arrive. But everyone knows that if Wesker insists on training you, they can't object. And it's probably for the best, as some (Uhm Richard, and Edward) will pretend to lose or go easy on you because they don't want to "hurt" you.

The team normally doesn’t go out, but they all want to spend time with you. Usually, all of you go to diners (except for Wesker, wonder why). There's a little argument over who should order you to prove who knows you the best.

Your seat is chosen to please everyone, sometimes between Jill and Chris, other times between Richard and Rebecca. Another silent argument happens when they debate on who should pay for you; Enrico succeeds by slipping the payment to the waiter when the others aren’t looking.

Everyone always makes sure you come home safe. You expect numerous calls from everyone checking up on you. They all secretly know you're fine, as they're in cahoots with each other, but they just want to hear your voice.

There's also a chance that if Richard, Forest, or Jill are the ones bringing you home, they'll make some excuse about needing to stay overnight because they're tired or the weather is bad.

If you need someone to drive you to the station or pick you up, perhaps because you can’t drive, they're all willing to fight each other once again to do so. They've left important meetings or appointments countless times just to rush to your aid. It's almost always Wesker, Richard, Enrico (and sometimes Chris) who beat the others in picking you up.

Once again, you're always taken to events that the teammates have. Brad is getting takeout, he's on his way to pick you up since he assumes you're also hungry. Forest wants to go out for a drink, prepare for him to be at your door, and when you attend together, he’s protecting your drink with his life and will even pretend to be your boyfriend. Barry has a baseball game he wants to attend, so why not come with him and his family.

Jill needs to pick up a new outfit or something in the way, she decides to take you as well. Rebecca comes along, and sometimes the three of you have spa days in the process. Rebecca also loves going on road trips with you; there needs to be a person or two with you to ensure nothing bad happens. Rebecca once brought you to her favorite team's basketball game and the two of you shared those nachos and fries. It was Rebecca's happiest memory.

Movie nights are a must. Brad and Edward agree with anything you wish to watch, while Jill and Joseph are fighting over which ones to watch. Chris and Forest are trying to get your attention more than actually watching a movie. Meanwhile, Rebecca is actually enjoying the movie and wants to talk to you about it later on. She and Richard ensure you have your popcorn, and Richard brings your favorite bakery treats.

Expect to be always praised when you're around the team. Wesker himself praises you for a job well done whenever you find a clue or bring him the right file. Richard, Edward, and Rebecca are the most vocal. Also expect Chris and Barry to give you a pat on the back, while Forest and Joseph jokingly pat your head.

Wesker has you as his right-hand assistant, even when it’s not officially confirmed as such. You're tasked to help and stay by him whenever he needs assistance. He pretends not to see everyone side-eyeing him when he places your desk right next to his, but then again, they all ignore his stare when they come to your desk for whatever excuse they need.

The best people to comfort you are Barry, Enrico, Kenneth, and Richard. These men hate seeing you in tears. Brad will try to make you laugh while hugging you, while also finding the right words to comfort you. You can lie to Enrico, and he'll still know; he's memorized your body language, pulling you into an immediate hug before the tears even come.

Kenneth's ability to comfort shines in giving the best advice and solving any issues you have. Richard will sit next to you and listen; it could be the middle of the night, and he'll gladly answer any call or stay up to do any activities that will cheer you up.

Something everyone has huge arguments about is punishments; it gets heated at times. These discussions are, of course, not done in your presence.

Wesker is open to punishments, Chris and Jill agree with precautions, and Barry may reluctantly agree but claim he wants nothing to do with it. Brad and Rebecca voice their disagreement but can’t really intervene. Edward and Richie, like Barry, say they want nothing to do with it. Forest and Joseph don’t like it but will let the others make the decisions. Enrico and Kenneth are the most vocal against such decisions.

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

Everything is going well in the team until the mansion incident.

You had to be with the Alpha team, unaware of the fate that fell upon the Bravo team, as there was no way Wesker would have let you out of his sight.

You had to witness Joseph get mauled by the zombie dogs, and if it weren’t for Wesker shooting the one coming at you and Chris pulling you along, you may have been a victim of it. Getting into the mansion has them immediately checking for injuries, only to realize you are just shaken up.

If you try to suggest coming along with Chris to check on what’s happening, Wesker immediately disapproves, even pulling rank to have you stay by him, and Jill agrees. Chris assures you he'll be just fine.

Things happen and it may lead you to be separated from Wesker and Jill. It makes all of them panic and look for you. Chris is nervous but assumes you must be with either Wesker or Jill. Jill and Wesker are trying to remain calm as they search. There is a chance you will meet Rebecca, who informs you of Edward's death, and this leads to you reuniting with Chris.

Alternatively, you may come across Barry, who refuses to leave your side, leading you to reunite with Jill. Both scenarios will have you meeting Richard, who immediately embraces you upon seeing you safe. You may also encounter Enrico, who seems hesitant to inform you of who he believes is responsible for the situation.

Forbid you get injured at any moment in the mansion, everyone will be in panic. Barry will try to reassure you, holding your wound while Jill rushes to get any herbs. Or Rebecca will try to tend to you while Chris silently panics in the background, refusing to leave your side. Richard will insist you stay in a room for your safety while he tries to find Rebecca or first aid. Enrico tries to remain calm, bringing you along with him as he rids the area of any zombies, fearing the risk of leaving you alone.

Soon enough, you will find out about Wesker's involvement, and his first act is to keep you as a hostage, even knocking you out. He’s merely bluffing but needs to keep the others away. If he encounters Enrico, he is well aware the man knows he’s a traitor and will kill him in front of you. After all, you will know the truth either way.

It all ends with Wesker believed to be 'dead,' killed by the tyrant, and the mansion about to blow up. You and everyone mourn all those who you have lost, and you are surrounded by the remaining survivors as they try to comfort you and tend to any injuries you may have gained.

You are too lost in your grief and all you have experienced that you don’t realize the eyes all watching you, as they all make a silent vow to themselves to forever keep you safe. And most of all, you don’t know that Wesker has been reborn, getting out of the mansion as he plots his revenge.

@aphroditelovesu @yanderes-galore @gwynsly @tiddlybops

#resident evil x reader #yandere resident evil #albert wesker x reader #chris redfield x reader #jill valentine x reader #rebecca chambers x reader #yandere x reader #x reader insert #platonic yandere #yandere headcanons #reader insert #video game x reader #resident evil #stars team

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suuuupernovaaa · 1 year

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'eveng- Part 2

‘eveng [ˈʔɛ.vɛŋ] n. child

Request from @rainbowsocks: Can we have a part 2 where we see the family’s reaction to neteyams daughter?

Neteyam returned, having secured peace for your people after a year of war, to find you had a very big - and also very small - surprise for him; now, his family gets the same surprise.

Picks up right where Part 1 left off. Part 1 is probably necessary before reading this. Go ahead and read it - this will be here for you when you're done.

Part 1, Part 3

590 words.

"Parul," you said with a contented sigh. "Perfect."

Your mate held you close to him, your sleeping newborn daughter between the two of you, and you had everything you could possibly want.

"My family! They need to meet her."

Eagerly, you nodded. As if on cue, as you both turned to find them, the rest of the Sullys were already arriving - probably having followed Neteyam.

They had a similar reaction to your mate - excitement as they charged towards the two of you, and then absolute shock when they saw the small bundle in Neteyam's arms.

Lo'ak was the first to speak. "Holy shit. Who's baby is that, Neteyam?"

You covered your mouth with your hand to stifle a laugh.

"She is mine, Lo'ak. Ours," Neteyam replied, his voice absolutely booming with pride as he looked down at your daughter, and then over at you. "This is my daughter. Your niece."

"Oh, Great Mother!" Neteyri rushed past her family straight to you, bringing you into her arms. "Tell me how you are doing, Y/N. How was the birth? The pregnancy? How do you feel now?"

You felt overwhelmed at the attention from Neteyam's mother, and so oddly grateful that she had rushed to you, and not your daughter. It made you feel special, not overlooked as new mothers so often did.

"The pregnancy was easy, the birth was really hard, and I'm very tired," you replied honestly, and she gave you a knowing smile.

"We are here now. May I hold my first grandchild?" She finally turned her attention to her son, arms outstretched, and he placed the tiny child safety there. "What is her name?" Neytiri asked quietly, not taking her eyes off the baby.

"Parul," you and Neteyam replied in sync.

Jake approached, putting an arm around his wife to gaze down at your child. "Wow. Look at that. Looks just like you when you were born - all wrinkly and beautiful."

He reached out, clapping his eldest son on the back. "Well done."

Neytiri scowled up at him. "Your son has done nothing. Congratulate Y/N, she did all the work."

Jake laughed, and pulled up in for a rare embrace. "Good job, girl."

You hugged him in return, and the rest of Neteyam's siblings gathered, cooing over the baby and asking so many questions about how it was to be pregnant, and what the baby was like now.

"Well, mostly she sleeps and eats. And poops. Do you want to change her next diaper, Uncle Lo'ak?"

He wrinkled his head, but smiled down at his niece in his arms when she cooed and smiled in her sleep.

"How could someone as ugly as Neteyam make something so..." Lo'ak trailed off.

"Gorgeous," Kiri finished his sentence for him, and then smiled at me. "I can't believe we missed everything."

"There will be another, someday," I said, and Neteyam looked at me with wide eyes.

"I just met this one," he said, and his family laughed.

That night, Neytiri stayed nearby so she could help with the baby at night, and allow you a little bit of sleep. You were so grateful for her - and so tired - that you cried a little bit when she told you. Your own parents were gone, and you had felt so alone through your pregnancy and birth.

You prayed to the Great Mother, thanking her for returning your family so soon.

That night, you slept peacefully in your mate's arms, knowing that he and his family were back to take care of you.

#neteyam #Neteyam x reader #avatar #avatar 2 #Neteyam fic

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yourmidnightlover · 10 months

Text

getting it over with - ch 1

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: after relentless teasing and being the butt of too many jokes, you ask bucky to help you become more experienced in… a particular area of your life

warning: precious bucky, virgin shaming?, virgin reader, slight male!oc x reader, sexual harrassment, illuding to sex, talk of sex

w/c: 2.5k

a/n: i am working on part 2 in my other series, timeless. i've been debating two different ways i could take it and it's been an internal battle trying to figure that out. that being said, i can't help myself and started writing this and so here it is! this will likely be a simple mini series with smut in the later parts, probably the next one tbh. anywho... enjoy!

another night with the girls, and yet another night of beng singled out and ridiculed over a miniscule part of your life.

you were a well accomplished woman and yet all of your hard work has consistently been overlooked in nearly every conversation because of your extracurricular activities. or, well, more like your lack of extracurricular activities.

you had been working with the avengers for five years now as their pr manager, living there for a little over three after finding it was easier to represent and present the team in a brighter light when you knew more about them. it was after you moved in that you got much closer to james ‘bucky’ barnes, who you’ve coined the nickname of ‘jamie’ for. your friends also began to question why you hadn’t, in their terms, “banged,” one of the avengers you happened to live with.

truth be told, you did enjoy spending time with them, especially bucky. but, that would be crossing a line. you were practically employed by them. well, technically you were employed by tony, but that didn’t change the fact that they were your clients. it was just particularly easy to find the good in the people who constantly saved the world. well, that, and you were supposed to make them look good anyway.

the most difficult one to paint in the golden light was definitely bucky. you were great at getting the media to lean into his humanity and reminding them of how he had been tortured into what he became. you’ve imagined him to the public as “sargeant bucky barnes,” giving him back the title he earned rather than the name he was branded. he was still wary of venturing into the eye of the public, but everytime he did there were less people yelling at him and more people giving pitying looks and whispers. sure, he would rather not be recognized at all, but whispering was a hell of a long way from harassment.

bucky was grateful for everything you’d done for him. truth be told, you were grateful for everything they had done for you anyway. hell they had repeatedly saved all of humanity, helping their reputation was the least you could do for them.

but regardless of how well of a job you’ve done making the avengers’ reputation way lighter, somehow the only thing your old friends could talk about is how you’re somehow still a virgin.

“god, i can’t believe you’re still a virgin sometimes. especially being surrounded by hunks like him,” stephanie spoke up as she flipped her bleached hair behind her shoulder. “i would’ve tried my luck long before i cleared their name, girl. i mean, that sergeant guy has the prettiest blue eyes, and have you never wondered what he could do with that metal hand of his?”

you rolled your eyes, “he’s more than a pretty face, steph. he’s actually really sweet, too. his humor’s a bit old, kinda like a grandpa.”

“well, if he’s a grandpa then i’d gladly be his sugar baby,” she squeaked as she sipped on her vodka cranberry.

“can we not talk about him like that?” your face furrowed in embarrassment and you only hoped that she would take your blushing as remnants of the alcohol running through your body.

“why?” she scoffed as she rolled her eyes. “do you want him or something?” she paused, seeingly waiting for your response. clearly, your silence was answer enough. “oh my god you like him, don’t you?”

“no, no, it’s not like that,” you shook your head as you downed the rest of your drink. “i just spend a lot of time with him because of the job, y’know?”

“why don’t you just get him to pop your precious cherry?” she ventured as she stood from her stool.

boy, had you wished for that. mostly in your wildest dreams, but part of you hoped it could maybe happen. but then, you would wake up and were reminded of your place in the world. besides, jamie was over 100 years old. there’s no way he’d want someone who didn’t know what they were doing in the bedroom.

“or,” steph interrupted your thoughts. “we can get out there and find you a different guy to pop your cherry,” she finished with a wink as she grabbed your hands, pulling you from your seat and to the dance floor.

you managed to sneak a glance at the clock before the crowd surrounding you made it more difficult, reading the time being 11 pm. you told the guys you’d be back before 1, so that gave you enough time to please stephanie and then politely excuse yourself.

surprisingly, you had begun to enjoy yourself. the music wasn’t so bad with the surge of confidence the alcohol running through your veins gave you. after a few too many drinks, you were in your own world. finally unbothered by the nagging thoughts of your friends and the weight of your job on your shoulders.

you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder before turning to see a sweet smile. he had big, brown eyes and shaggy hair, broad shoulders, none that compared to the men you lived with, but they were nice nonetheless.

“hi,” he said even sweeter than his smile, keeping his hands to himself politely. “i-i’m noah.”

“well, hello, noah,” you smiled as you stepped closer to him, uncharacteristically throwing your arms around his neck as you continued to sway to the music. “y/n.”

“i-uh-you-you’re gorgeous,” he stuttered as his hands modestly found your waist.

“you really think so?” you said teasingly before leaning up to his ear. “i think you are super cute, yourself.”

at this point, you had nearly forgotten all about stephanie’s presence at all. maybe she had already left with another guy, herself? who knows. right now, all you knew was that you didn’t know brown eyes could be so pretty. mayb you didn’t want to wait anymore. maybe you didn’t want to be the old virgin in your friend group anymore. maybe noah could change that.

“you’re unreal,” he chuckled as he continued to sway with you for the next song until you began to kiss on his neck.

“you taste so sweet,” you commented in his ear before kissing right below it. he pulled back, giving you a sweet smile before connecting your lips together.

“you taste sweeter, believe me,” he huffed out a breath as you reconnected your lips with his.

“i think i want you, noah,” you whispered against his lips so softly he wasn’t sure he even heard you. “pretty please?”

“ye-yea, sure,” he guided you out of the bar, you needing nearly all of his support to even walk out of the threshold of the door.

“think ‘m sleepy, noah,” you mumbled against his neck as the cold air hit your face, as if it had began to sober you up.

“you just said you wanted me…?” he perplexed as he pulled you aside into the ally to gather yourself.

“‘m sorry, noah,” you shrugged as the cold air hit you again. “‘s cold outside, can i go back in?” you turned to walk back inside when he grabbed your arm, probably a bit more harsh than he intended to.

“what the fuck?” he sounded disappointed. “i complimented you, i let you make the first move, and now you just wanna back out?” he pulled you closer to his body. “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“i-i dunno, i just got confused i think?” you stumbled as you tried to back away once more. “it’s too cold out here, noah.”

“maybe this’ll warm you up,” he grabbed your pliable face and brought you back in for a kiss before you tried to push him away again.

“y/n?” you heard a raspy voice call out. “what the fuck?” you turned to see your jamie confused.

“jamie!” you tred to wiggle out of noah’s grasp once more, a disgruntled look on your face as you did so. “jamie…” you were now limply wrestling out of noah’s grasp as he scoffed at the situation in front of him.

“what?” he said in disbelief. “you wanna lead me on and leave with this guy?”

“noah-”

“i think you need to back of the lady, alright, man?” bucky spoke up as he stepped closer towards you. “she’s clearly a bit drunk, just let me take her home and we’ll be on our way. no harm, right?” he tried to reason with the douchebag.

“no harm?” he grasped your arm tighter before he continued, making you wince slightly. “so this bitch is able to fucking lead me on and then leave me high and dry and there’s ‘no harm’?”

“okay, i’ve tried to be nice about this,” without a second of hesitation, he had noah’s arms behind his back, not enough to seriously injure him, but just enough to harm him enough to not tempt him to do any more harm. “you will apologize to miss y/n for talking to her the way you did, you will walk away, and you won’t do anything like that to any woman in the near future, understood?” noah nodded. “am i understood?!”

“yes, yes!” bucky nudged him further in your direction as you were leaning your back against the brick wall for stability. “i’m sorry, y/n.”

“for…?” bucky taunted.

“i’m sorry for talking to you the way i did.”

“good boy,” bucky teased as he released the man, letting him run away and not sparing him another glance before he made his way closer to you.

“‘m sorry, jamie,” you stumbled forward and threw your arms around him. you had never been so openly affectionate, especially with bucky since you knew his aversions. since you were so drunk, you simply didn’t register the unspoken boundaries you had unintentionally set in place for yourself. “didn’t wanna make him mad. jus’ changed my mind s’all,” you buried your face in his neck.

“you have a right to change your mind, doll,” he soothed as he gently rubbed your back, leading you to steve’s car he borrowed.

“y/n?” you snapped your head to look at bucky as he spoke. “i don’t want you to be so late again, doll. it’s almost 2 am. had me worried sick about ya,” his hand danced on your knee, you assumed to comfort you after the events of the night.

“i didn’t know,” you shook your head. “i swear, i just lost track of time. s’not like me to do this. i just got so mad and wanted to get it over with, y’know?”

“get what over with?”

“you won’t laugh at me?” you grabbed his hand that was resting on your knee and turned in your seat to face your body towards him. “never, doll,” he chuckled at your serious tone.

“i’m tired of bein’ a virgin,” you said with a sense of disappointment. “don’ want people makin’ fun of me anymore.”

“that’s nothing to be embarrassed about, doll,” he shook his head as he put the car in park before running to your side of the car and helping you out. “some people want to save that moment, i get it.”

“no,” you groaned as you leaned into him. “i don’t wanna save it. i was just scared at first, and then i didn’t want to, and now it’s too late because nobody wants to be with a virgin.”

“that’s not true, y/n,” he shook his ehad as he pressed your shared floor on the elevator.

“would you wanna have sex with me?” you wondered aloud as bucky began coughing loudly. “don’t be mean,” you huffed and crossed your arms, figuring he was trying to hide his laugh. “steph said i should get you to ‘pop my cherry’ but i knew you would’t wan-”

“hey, that’s not what i meant,” he stopped your train of thought.

“so you do wanna ‘pop my cherry’?” you awed at the man as the elevator doors opened.

“i wan’ you to stop referencing it as ‘popping your cherry’,” he grimaced as he said it himself.

“you wanna have sex with me? bang? do the deed? take my virginity? make love?”

“stop it,” he groaned as you giggled, leaning into his chest even more. “i wanna have this conversation when your sober, if you even remember it.”

“i’ll remember, my sweet jamie,” you held onto his arm as he walked you to your room, helping you get into bed before going into your bathroom and returning with your bin of skincare. “this is why you’re my sweet jamie,” if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was blushing.

he began using your makeup wipes to remove the remnants of makeup that had survived the night, followed by micellar water to remove the excess remover from your face. you knew he had seen you do your skincare routine after having so many late movie nights with one another, but it was still flattering that he had remembered it all so well. he finished applying your toners, serums, and finally your moisturizer with gentle hands, his metal one providing a nice cold surface that woke your skin up a bit more. it wasn’t until you reached up to grab his flesh hand that he noticed the bruises lacing your arms.

“god,” he sighed as he looked down at his lap. “i’m so sorry i was too late, doll.”

“you weren’t too late,” you shook your head at his negativity. “you were perfectly on time. you saved me. i don’t-i don’t know what would’ve happened had you not shown up. i-”

“i don’t wanna think about what could’ve happened, please,” he shook his head as he held onto your bruised wrist softly, tenderly rubbing his cool metal hand over the damaged skin before pressing a kiss to it.

“will you stay with me tonight?” you asked softly, as if you were scared he would say no. as if he would ever tell you no.

“only if you’re sure,” you nodded eagerly with a grin before he crawled into bed with you.

bucky’s arms wrapped around your waist as you laid on his chest, breathing in his scent as his soothing heartbeat calmed you down after the nights antics.

“i’ll remember tomorrow, jamie.”

CHAPTER 2

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #marvel #james bucky barnes #sargeant barnes #sargeant bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #james bucky buchanan barnes #james barnes #sargeant james barnes #james buchanan barnes

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grandeoatmilklatte · 4 months

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A Year In Love 💚 - Ominis Gaunt x F!MC

Happy one year anniversary to Hogwarts Legacy! I can't believe it's been a whole year since the game has been released! (I can't believe it's been a whole year since I descended into madness over these boys either!)

A few of us in one of the HL Discord servers decided to all write a one year related fic, so here is my contribution to that. Enjoy!

Warnings - None! All Fluff! || 1.5k words

Ominis stopped walking as he felt his wand begin to rapidly pulsate in his hand - a sign that he had reached his destination. He sat on the grassy ground, using his wand to guide him again as he placed a small bouquet of flowers on his aunt’s grave, which was marked by a large rock, with various smaller colorful rocks and seashells surrounding it.

Today marked one year since the night that Ominis, Sebastian, and the new fifth year ventured into Salazar Slytherin’s Scriptorium, where his aunt Noctua’s remains had been found. She was the only member of his family to show him any compassion, and the only member of his family not obsessed with blood status. She was the only family Ominis felt like he had. Although the night brought back painful memories for Ominis, it also changed the course of his life forever, in the most positive way possible. It was also the night Ominis realized he was in love.

The evening started with Sebastian begging Ominis to join him in venturing into the Scriptorium, eager to see what secrets it held. Ominis didn’t want to go, well aware that the room likely held terrible things. But Sebastian wasn’t about to let it go, enlisting the help of his secret weapon against Ominis - the new fifth year, who Ominis had been harboring a small crush on.

“Please, Ominis?” His name sounded so lovely on her lips, he couldn’t bring himself to say no to her. She was far too convincing. His heart even skipped a beat when she complimented him on his rare ability of being able to speak Parseltongue.

As the trio descended into the tunnel leading to the Scriptorium; however, Ominis cursed himself for allowing his crush on the girl to cloud his better judgment. The tunnel radiated dark magic, and was full of various puzzles which opened the way to more, deeper tunnels. What started as a nerve-wracking endeavor quickly turned into anguish as they reached the entrance to the scriptorium, guarded by a door that required a Cruciatus curse to be cast. In front of the door lay his Aunt Noctua’s long forgotten skeleton, her journal pages around her body confirming it was indeed her.

While Sebastian explored the Scriptorium, thrilled by their discovery, the new fifth year was by Ominis’s side, her arms around him as he sobbed into her shoulder. Ominis felt guilty, knowing that he should have been the one comforting her after she had endured the painful Cruciatus curse from Sebastian. Ominis could feel the way her hands shook as she held him, but despite the pain she was in, she had put his needs before her own. No one had ever put Ominis first, or shown him this level of care, not even his own blood. Her kindness changed him, and it was at this moment that he fell in love with her.

Ominis awoke the next morning deep in denial, He convinced himself that he was just clinging to her because of the compassion she showed him, and he absolutely was not in love with her. That is, until he received her owl asking to meet outside the castle. When he found her, she explained that she had gone back in the morning and retrieved his aunt’s remains so they could give her a proper burial. Ominis fought the urge to get down on one knee and ask for her hand in marriage at that moment.

With her help, Ominis decided on a secluded spot across the Black Lake in a little clearing for her final resting place. The area was surrounded by trees and overlooked Hogwarts - the place Ominis called home.

As the year went on, and the two became closer as friends, Ominis fell deeper in love with her each day. They supported each other when Sebastian strayed further and further away from them, and Ominis showed her the same level of compassion she had shown him in the scriptorium after the battle against Ranrok, when she broke down in his arms after losing Professor Fig - the closest thing she had to a father. Despite the clear connection they shared, Ominis still hadn’t confessed his true feelings, fearful that she only saw him as a friend. That fear was extinguished for good on a random night, after she crashed her lips into his and confessed her own feelings for him after an after hours meeting in The Undercroft. From that moment on they were inseparable.

Ominis was broken out of his thoughts as he heard footsteps approaching. His heart raced when the footsteps got closer and a familiar scent hit his nose - her scent.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, Ominis! Professor Weasley needed me for something after class. I hope you’re not mad!”

Ominis let out a soft chuckle at her words, knowing he could never be mad at her. He stood to greet her, placing his hands on her waist to pull her into a gentle kiss. Once she pulled away, he heard her begin to dig through what sounded like a bag, followed by the sound of a blanket being fluffed out. As if she could read his mind, she explained herself.

“I brought us lunch, the weather is lovely, I thought we could have a picnic!”

As they sat in front of Aunt Noctua’s grave, enjoying the weather and food, Ominis’s mind began to wander again. This time, he thought about their future together. He thought about their graduation, and how he hoped she’d say yes to his elopement proposal he had planned for right after. He thought about what it would be like to have a home of their own, far away from the Gaunts. He even let his mind wander to children. Although he was still uncertain if he wanted to bring more Gaunts into the world, if they did have a daughter, he hoped his future wife would be open to naming her Noctua.

As he said his aunt’s name in his head, he felt a tingle of pain in his heart. She would never get the chance to see him as a married man or a father. She would never get to meet the girl who had stolen his heart and made him so happy. He hoped that she was proud of him for finding someone who loved him and treated him right, unlike the rest of his family. He hoped that she was proud of him for making a new legacy for the Gaunts.

“Are you alright, darling?” Her sweet voice laced with concern flooded his ears and broke him out of his train of thought once again.

“I miss her…” Ominis choked out as tears began to form in his eyes.

His fingertips registered the softness of her hands as she gave his hands a gentle squeeze. “Oh darling, I’m so sorry. I know you do. But she’s not truly gone. The ones who love us never really leave us. They’re always in our hearts and watching over us.”

Ominis squeezed her hands back, his tears freely flowing now. “I wish she could have met you. She would have loved you. I…I hope she’s proud of me.”

Ominis’s heart fluttered as he felt her lips press against his cheek. “She is proud of you. I know she is. So proud of you for doing the Gaunt name justice. She helped make you into the amazing person you are and will grow to be. She’s extremely proud of you, and so am I.”

Releasing her hands to cup her face, Ominis pulled her into a gentle, but passionate kiss. Their lips remained locked for several seconds, Ominis savoring the way her lips felt against his own. Over the course of the past year, he had kissed her many times, never once getting sick of it. He didn’t think he could ever get sick of her.

The couple spent the next hour in the same spot, talking, laughing, and updating Aunt Noctua on things that had happened throughout the year. They stayed until it got dark, Ominis feeling the change in temperature.

“We should probably make our way back, make sure we’re prepared for the potions exam tomorrow. Thank you for joining me today.”

“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world, Ominis.”

She stood up, pulling Ominis to his feet with her. He wished Noctua a good night and assured her that he’d visit again soon before taking his lover’s hand as they made their way back towards the castle.

When they had just reached the Hogwarts grounds, Ominis felt his girlfriend stop walking, but before he could ask her what was wrong, he felt her arms wrap around his neck as she planted a soft kiss to his lips.

“I love you, Ominis Gaunt.” she said softly. He could hear the smile on her face through her voice.

“And I love you.” he said back with a smile. And he did - he had loved her for a year, and planned to love her for many more years to come.

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x mc

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crystalskiesandcherrywine · 3 months

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The sound of the waves collide // Part Four

So it is time for the last part.... I still cannot believe that I managed to write something and look forward to post more

This chapter is very explicit - for my taste at least.

Song for the chapter - Alkaline by Sleeptoken

English is not my first language

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Na Baron Feyd Rautha x Atreides!Reader

shameless smut

FxM

All feedback is welcome <3

Part One // Part Two // Part Three

1.695 words

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The encounter with Feyd leaves you so shaken that, come morning, you avoid seeing anyone. It feels childish and less dignified, your mind circling around the memories of the evening like vultures. It's as if he doesn't even need to touch you to make you forget years of training and let your emotions get the best of you. And he visibly enjoys it, your pain and humiliation making it even more luxurious for him. Frustrated and unable to concentrate, you put Irulan's gift away and lie down in a lounge chair on the balcony overlooking the small garden. The sun's rays are softened by the huge trees and reflected in the pond below. Its crystal clear waters appear like a mirror - calm and serene, a painful contrast to your mental state. You close your eyes and try to ground yourself in the moment, repeating the mantra „I am alive in stillness“, but to no avail. The fever that has been ignited within you consumes your mind and body. Your hands seem to develop a life of their own and, as if guided by a puppet master, they find their way to the small band of your tunic. The warm air touches your skin and you close your eyes, letting your fingers slide over your breasts, caressing the nipples that instantly stiffen under your touch. Your hand continues to slide down as your eyes flutter shut. It is almost as if you are picking up where he left off. The heat concentrates under your fingers, and letting your intuition guide you, you move your fingers in circles, dipping in and out of your cunt. The orgasm is so intense that for a second you forget where you are. You can't stop yourself from moaning his name and you feel like coming up for air.

Two days later it is time to say goodbye. Your father kisses you on the forehead and your mother seems to think the same as you - "I will not fear". Letting go of Paul's embrace seems almost impossible, but when all is said and done, you make your way to the Baron's ship. His gigantic form floats in front of you, while your betrothed follows at the same level as you.

Even if he doesn't look at you, you can't help but feel his presence. Each step seems to be part of a well-orchestrated choreography and reminds you of a wild animal, ready to reveal its murderous nature at any moment. At the last glance, you turn your head to see your mothers signing "Good luck" to you with a small flick of her wrist. The connection to what was familiar is tethered and you are not sure of the tumultuous feeling your gut that the now empty space in your soul is son tobe filled with a new home. The change is almost tangible, as if when you pay close enough attention, it glow like a dark halo around you.

Once on the ship, you are left to your own devices. You can call upon servants at any time, but they seem to anticipate your wishes before you know them. Food and drink are brought to you, as well as an army of new clothes. Your favourite is the black dress with heavy beading around the bodice, covering your torso like a shield. Paired with a translucent black veil and a small gold chain around your neck, connected to your torso, it feels appropriate to take your first steps on the planet you will call home.

Your unease is heightened when, upon your arrival, neither Feyd nor the Baron are to be seen. A tall, slender man who introduces himself as Piter de Vries escorts you to the Feeds chambers. You immediately recognise the characteristic traces of spice in his eyes, the only thing that seems to have any colour in this world. Shielded from the harsh black sun, you reach Na Baron's quarters, only to find an army of monochrome grey, white and black surroundings. The palace seems to be the essence of the Harkonnens, with hard, clear lines, yet graceful and spacious.

"If you need anything, there are always two servants at the door," says Piter. The servants resemble guards, but you decide not to share this observation. Piter's eyes linger on the glass box with the fir tree. "Do you want to have a closer look?" You ask. "Only if you don't mind. I have never seen anything like it". "It was a parting gift from my father. On Caladan, fir trees grow as tall as these walls, more of them than you can count. You may take it with you if you promise to return it in one piece tomorrow." Pieter seems to understand your bid for connection and bows his head „I am indebted to you, Na Baroness“ Its the first time some one dresses you with your new title and you barely suppress a shiver. And as if the title was a spell, Feyd Rautha appears in the doorway. Piter bows and leaves at once, holding the precious piece of your home in his hands. He moves so siletly, that you begin to wonder if the planet is not only devoid of color but also of sound. Blood seems to rush to your cheeks as you meet Feyd's gaze. "Is everything to your satisfaction?" His voice echoes. "Yes, thank you, Baron." His arms are behind his back and before you realise why, you see droplets of thick, almost black liquid collecting on the floor behind him. Slowly he unclasps his hands, drops to one knee and holds out a slim silver knife to you, covered in more of the same substance. "Is… is it blood?" You don't know why you question it. "Yes, it is. Please accept this as a token of my devotion to you. It is…" his blue eyes find yours, "the proof that my body will be yours alone. No other being shall touch it."

"Your pets…" you feel almost dizzy as the understanding dawns on you.

"No more pets," he says, still on his knee.

You slowly take the knife and place it on the white table beside you. Some of the blood gets on your wrist. He grabs it and licks it off. While a part of your brain screams that you should be afraid, your body seems to find the spark he struck on Kaitain again. His tongue flicks across the sensitive skin as he rises and begins to undo the buttons on your shoulders, the need to touch him overwhelming you and you reach out with your palm to his cheek. He leans into your touch with more tenderness than you ever expected. But as soon as your dress falls to the floor, pure hunger returns to his eyes. He presses into you and you feel as if your insides have melted on the spot. You try to feel his length through the fabric of his tunic. „So needy, Na Baroness?“ He purrs, enjoying the dominance he has over you. With a swimming motion, he pushes you onto the bed, holding your arms above your head. His tongue descends to your collarbone, moving deeper as he takes one breast in his mouth, sucking the tender flesh. You moan under him, already feeling washed away from any security of a shore into a whirl of need. His tongue continues to drive you mad as he bites you, the pain searing and glorious at the same time. Your hand reaches for him again, but he holds your wrists down as his tongue continues to run between your legs. He looks up at you, and it is the last thing to break the tiny shreds of your resolve. But he doesn't let you go, his tongue still swirling between your folds, drinking in your sweetness. Suddenly your hands are connected and a split second later you realise why: he uses his left hand, with slender, graceful fingers, to push your thighs further apart. You feel wanton and still needy, and as one of his finders curls inside you, you moan his name. "Feyd, Feyd, Feyd." Your own voice seems alien to you, high-pitched and desperate.

"My Na Baroness seems to want more," he smiles devilishly and inserts two more fingers at once. You whimper and throw your head back into the pillows. It feels like the stars are exploding behind you and feel the second orgasm coming as he stops and pulls away from you. You can barely hold back a frustrated squeal. Your body feels hot, the only antidote to this madness his skin on yours. You try to concentrate on his form, seeing him remove his tonic first, then his trousers, leaving nothing to the imagination. His body is pure perfection, not a mark on his porcelain skin, he kneels on the bed again and moves towards you. The tip of his shaft is already pink and covered with pearls of pre-cum. It touches your clit lightly as it settles between your legs. "You'll have to learn to control yourself. So responsive to my touch, so desperate…" he hisses as the black of his pupils replaces the blue, making them almost invisible. His tip touches your entrance and then disappears completely inside you. You feel torn apart and put together at the same time, pain and pleasure mixed into something new, a delicious cocktail of discovery that leaves you drunk and breathless. You want to close your eyes, but he says "Look at me" you hear him murmur and you are lost again. With every movement of his hips, your whole being seems to refragment and reassemble like a kaleidoscope. Your walls convulse around him, his name like a sacred chant. Your nails dig into his back and he lets himself fall, speeding up and thrusting into you with even more abandon. You feel his use of you, your name on his lips. For a few seconds you are speechless, your shallow breaths filling the room. He holds your hips as he lies down behind you, still inside you to the hilt. „Welcome to being my wife, dear Na Baroness“

#dune part ii #feyd rautha #feyd rautha imagine #feyd smut #feyd x reader #feyd x you #dune movie #paul atreides #dune part two #harkonnen #austin butler #cannon divergence #arranged marriage #shameless smut #smut

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cailins-posts · 17 days

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A Day with Charles, Y/N, and Jack

Charles leclerc x reader

The streets of Monaco were bathed in the warm glow of the Mediterranean sun, casting a golden hue over the pristine yachts and bustling markets. In a charming apartment overlooking the marina, life was just as picturesque for Charles Leclerc, his wife Y/N, and their adorable three-year-old son, Jack.

Jack was a spitting image of his father, with the same tousled brown hair and, most strikingly, Charles' captivating green eyes. Y/N often found herself lost in those eyes, mesmerized by their depth and beauty. It was one of the many things she adored about her little family.

This particular morning, the scent of fresh croissants and brewing coffee filled the air. Y/N stood by the kitchen counter, slicing fruit for breakfast, while Jack clung to her leg, his small hands gripping her jeans.

"Bonjour, mon amour," Charles greeted, wrapping his arms around Y/N from behind and planting a soft kiss on her neck.

"Bonjour, Charles," she replied with a smile, turning her head to kiss him on the lips. "Have you seen how much Jack looks like you today? Especially his eyes."

Charles crouched down to Jack's level and ruffled his hair. "Oui, c'est vrai. Il a mes yeux. But he has your smile, and that makes him even more special."

Jack giggled, reaching up to be picked up by his father. "Papa!"

Charles lifted Jack effortlessly, twirling him around before settling him on his hip. "Ready for breakfast, little man?"

Jack nodded enthusiastically, pointing to the table where his favorite blue plate awaited.

As they sat down to eat, Y/N couldn't help but watch the two of them interact. Jack was undeniably a mama's boy, always seeking her out for comfort and affection, but his bond with Charles was equally heartwarming. She loved seeing how Charles' eyes would light up whenever he looked at their son.

After breakfast, they decided to spend the day exploring Monaco. The Leclerc family was well-loved by the locals, and their strolls often involved many friendly greetings and photo requests. Today was no different, and as they walked through the streets, they were frequently stopped by fans and friends alike.

At one point, they stopped by a quaint little park. Jack immediately ran to the playground, his excitement evident in his beaming smile.

"Careful, Jack," Y/N called out, watching him climb up the slide. "Ne te fais pas mal."

Charles laughed, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "He'll be fine. He's a tough little guy."

They sat on a nearby bench, watching Jack play. Charles turned to Y/N, a tender expression on his face. "You know, sometimes I still can't believe how lucky I am. I have the most beautiful wife and an amazing son."

Y/N blushed, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I feel the same way, Charles. Every day with you and Jack is a blessing."

"Do you think he knows how much we love him?" Charles asked, watching Jack interact with another child on the playground.

"I think he feels it," Y/N replied softly. "And I think he sees it in our eyes, especially yours. Those beautiful green eyes of yours that he inherited."

Charles smiled, pulling her closer. "I love you, Y/N."

"Je t'aime, Charles," she whispered back.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the park, they decided to head home. Jack, tired from all the playing, clung to Y/N as they walked back. His little head rested on her shoulder, his eyes fluttering closed.

"He's definitely a mama's boy," Charles said, chuckling as he watched them.

"And I wouldn't have it any other way," Y/N replied, kissing Jack's forehead.

Back at their apartment, they settled into their evening routine. After a bath and a bedtime story, Jack was finally asleep in his crib. Y/N stood by the crib, watching her son sleep peacefully.

Charles came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "He's perfect, isn't he?"

"Yes," Y/N said, tears of happiness in her eyes. "He has your eyes, and every time I look at him, I'm reminded of how much I love you."

Charles turned her around to face him, cupping her face in his hands. "And I love you, Y/N. Thank you for giving me this beautiful life, for being the best mother to our son."

They shared a tender kiss, a moment of pure love and connection. As they pulled away, Charles glanced down at Jack, a smile playing on his lips. "He's going to grow up knowing how much he's loved. And every time he looks in the mirror, he'll see those green eyes and remember where he came from."

Y/N nodded, her heart full. "Our little Jack, with his papa's eyes and his mama's heart. He's our everything."

They left the nursery, hand in hand, ready to face whatever the future held. Together, they knew they could handle anything. Their love was strong, and with Jack as the center of their world, their family was complete.

#f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #classic f1 #fanfic #charles leclerc #charles lecrelc #charles lecrelc x reader #Charles lecrelc x y/n #lando x reader #charles lecrelc x y/n

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ashleyhuh · 6 months

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Hyper analyzing Devlog 07

I am just too excited for this and I NEED to talk about Devlog 07 and just the implications and some speculation of each screen shot AND the new art!

I wanna start from a more overlooked screen shot which really puts us in Andrews shoes and more!

In Andrew's eyes he doesn't even value his friend enough to consider him anything other than "Friend B" which to me is probably how he remembered it as I'd like to imagine in this scene he sticks up for Ashley and probably might even stop being friends with him again, somewhat how like they tried forgetting Nina and blocking out her name and face from their memories only this time he wasn't even important enough to Andrew his name was simply forgotten, not important enough because Ashley is far, far more important to him.

This to me really confirms that Nemlei wants to tell this story for how it is and how many of us see it. A romance novel, even in Decay we see Andrew still loving Ashley but angry he loves her and angry with himself for being this way. We see this in how he is still physical with her tho he is using that touch as a means of frustration, he wants her but he hates that he does. This drawing is also just super fucking cute I love it

I think honestly its incredible how this is the first time we see a police officer this late into the game considering what types of antics they've been up to. There isn't much to analyze here other than with the officers seem to have a more relaxed mood, talking more about the monotonous parts of their job and as such I don't believe they'd be looking for Andrew, but Andrew is still hiding from them as he can't afford to be seen by Police.

This to me could say a lot or nothing. The soul in front of lord unknown could very much so be Andrew's as it's popular speculation that he is going to be sacrificed and Ashley has to get him back. The game has made it clear to us that when you lose your soul you don't die which is a key element if Nemlei is going to ever develop that detail further with what we've speculated from before. This area could also have major significance if it's important that Ashley and Andrew try to summon lord unknown in the optional part of the game. Who knows it could matter it could not such as with the gun having bullets or not.

#the coffin of andy and leyley #tcoaal #gravecest #ashley graves #andrew graves #coffincest #I need to talk about this game or I will explode I stg

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alonetimelover · 1 year

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harry styles x tennis player!reader

summary: yn and harry go for a run in london.

a/n: wrote it after seeing those pictures. not proofread. enjoy.

masterlist

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"sometimes i forget you're a pro at this," harry said, with elbows pressed right before gis knees.

"you understimate me. unfortunately not for the first time, hmm?" yn pat his bare back, moving few metres in front of her boyfriend. "come on! let's do some stretching and then a run back home."

harry's eyes windened, "you trying to kill me, darling?"

"no, absolutely not. still haven't used you to meet thee queen swift." they laughed, sitting down on the grass.

it was a beautiful day in London when yn and harry decided to use it for good - or for running, depends on your definition of a well-spent morning. the hyde park was unusually calm and quiet, serving it's utter beauty often overlooked by dozens of people trying to get the best view of the city beyond them.

harry had a day off after one of four concerts at wembley stadium this year, and yn just arrived in london two days ago in preparation for wimbledon. after all those months trying to find a moment when it was possible to call or even text each other, they finally were able to wake up together and enjoy this quality time to the brim. it was quite surreal.

"harry, stretch."

"i don't want to," he longed the syllables in the act of annoyance and tiredness.

"i'm not going to make you, but -" she stopped stretching her calf muscles and looked him dead in the eyes. "you're going to regret it in the morning tomorrow, believe me."

harry groaned, and like an upset toddler sat up straighter and started stretching. yn smirked slightly to herself in victory. it was all for his health, and the feelings of pride and win were just a bonus.

"did you bring any bag with you, baby?" harry asked, humour much less grumpy.

"i have this foldable one in your funny pack. what do you need it for?"

harry didn't answer. well, verbally, he didn't answer. instead, he took off his t-shirt, folded it carefully, and put on the grass. yn swallowed, blushing a little bit.

harry smirked, "you're ogling me."

like being woken up from the trance, yn darted her eyes behind harry to the view beside him. her mind, although, still replaying the former one.

"tsk, tsk. gotcha, preying eyes." He laughed, patting yn's knee and then immediately smoothing his hand across it, squeezing three times. "you know I don't mind it."

"oh, I know. you love attention."

"yours."

"sorry?"

"i love your attention," he emphasised, looking yn directly in the eye. little smile adoring his features.

yn blushed, hiding her face in her hands.

"you're too good at this, too good."

"thank you."

harry placed his hand firstly on yn's and then delicately moved it away from her face so he could look at her. "much better."

"wanna run home now?"

"in a moment."

and before she could ask what he'd wanted to wait for, his lips were on hers, connecting them in a loving kiss. no matter how many times they shared those loving moments together, she couldn't stop feeling full of butterflies in her stomach.

"you're right. i love all the attention." harry smirked, quickly standing up and being ready to run.

"you little-"

"okay, now we can go!" harry screamed, running down the hill.

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harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, harrysmoustache and 34 291 others

harryupdates HARRY TODAY WHILE ON THE RUN WITH YN IN LONDON !!!!

wtfuisis guys, wtf

view all 2 201 comments

hArrysbtch i-

hArrysbtch man, I'm not okay

harrysmoustache someone calkl the ambulance, I can't breathe... damn this man

harrysaus22 i feel this picture in my core

ynupdates i understand now, yn. i understand.

hArrysbtch guys... the video of them giggling and making out in the park??????? wtf

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #tennis player!reader

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ellieluvr420 · 4 months

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We meet again, darling epilogue (detective Abby Anderson x criminal reader x detective Ellie Williams)

Synopsis: Abby Anderson is a skilled detective that's never let a criminal escape her grasp, until you. You've infiltrated every part of her life and she still can't get you. As she grows more and more intrigued by you she finds herself descending further into darkness until there's no way back. She takes your hand and follows you as if your presence is the only thing giving her life knowing that you are the most dangerous thing for her. Her life will never be hers again and she will stop at nothing to keep following you down your path of corruption.

SMUT mdni

I hope this is a good ending to the series for you beautiful people that have followed the story from the beginning!!!

You lay on the large bed that overlooks the ocean on your private beach with Abby cuddling into your side, an arm lazily draped over your stomach. You had been here for just over a year now and you still never get bored of your daily routine, the constant sun and heat only sweetened the deal more for you as you gaze at the freckles that dot Abby's shoulders and face, she looked so cute with the permanent blush that crept over her nose and cheeks and you couldn't help but reminisce on your time with her in the city, although you missed it the sight of her now reminded you why you hadn't regretted your decision once. You're taking in her sun-kissed appearance when she shifts so that she can look you in the eyes.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course my love."

"How were you able to just up and leave so quick? Within a week of us speaking to Ricky you were ready to just up and leave the country. You had planned our deaths, you dealt with your penthouse, the business, everything, in a week. How did you do it?"

"I had been preparing to leave for awhile. I knew me taking over the Met would blow everything up so I got my affairs in order."

"Why would you do it if you knew it would go bad?" Her thumb was rubbing soothing circles into your side as you scratched at her scalp.

"I was bored, I was ready to go so I decided to go out with a bang, did me a favour that taking over the Met lined my pockets a little too before we left but I mainly wanted to really screw them over before I left."

"Why wouldn't you just tell me that?"

"If I had told you from the beginning that you'd end up running away with me to live happily ever after you wouldn't have taken me up on my offer would you?"

"So you knew and planned all of this from the beginning?" Her words were spoken with caution, her stomach twisted a little as you spoke.

"Yes, I had caught wind of my brother's frustrations with how I was running things so I was looking for a reason to cut ties so it would be clean and easy. When the opportunity to take over the Met came up with you I knew this was my chance. I took them over so that everything would crumble which meant I'd be able to take everything from them and my brother. I knew one day he'd try and get rid of me so I just had to wait for him to do that so I could end him. I knew what was coming so I informed Jeremy and a few others that when the time came I would pay them a huge bonus to dispose of his body and then scatter, of course their silence was part of the deal." Abby was quiet as she took in everything you said, she couldn't believe it but despite hearing all of this there was only one question on her mind.

"Was Ellie part of the plan?"

"No actually, she was a happy surprise, once I saw her I knew she would join us but I hadn't prepared for that from the beginning."

Abby processes everything you've said and she realises you manipulated her by playing on her greed for power and glory in her life, manipulated Ellie's need for love and company and you got what you wanted. You hadn't let go of your life in the city because it was the only choice you had, this was the plan all along and she had fallen for it completely and now there was no going back, she could never get away from you. She felt comforted by the darkness as she bathed in the glow of your love and let herself fall deeper and deeper into the hole you coaxed her into, making her bed and lying in the throes of your corruption.

As Abby lay quietly contemplating everything you had just told her Ellie walked back over to the bed with a tray of drinks in her hands and a joint hanging out of her mouth, the sight sent pulses straight to your core. She placed the tray down on the end of the bed and passed you and Abby your drinks before lighting the spliff. She inhaled deeply a couple times before passing it to you, you all took it in turns sharing until it was done and you were all blissfully laying enjoying the view you could never get enough off as you sipped your drinks. You hadn't smoked weed since your teenage years but you had come to enjoy getting high with Ellie and Abby, you pulled Ellie down to also lay on you and as her face nuzzled into your neck leaving feather light kisses you knew this would be your life until you died, the paradise you were surrounded by could be ripped away from you and you'd still be okay as long as you had them by your side,

You're interrupted from your thoughts when you feel Abby's hands wrapping around yours that's holding the drink and you let her lift it away from you and place it onto the tray at the end of the bed.

"Ellie take the drinks of the bed."

"What's the magic word?" Ellie snipes.

"I want to fuck and she'll kill us if we break anymore glasses." Ellie's eyes light up at Abby's statement and she immediately jumps up to move the drinks. You laugh at them talking like you aren't right there until they both turn to you with a carnal look in their eyes.

"Hey babe." Abby purrs as she sits on her knees facing you.

"Hi honey." You say in an annoyingly innocent tone.

"You gonna let us have our way with you?" Ellie questions although it sounds like more of a statement. Over the year that you had spent here you found yourself relaxing into a more submissive role when you slept together, you trusted them and enjoyed giving control to them in bed now you didn't need to have such a tight grip on everything in your life.

"Hmm ask nicely." The shift in power dynamic didn't stop you from fighting them a little.

"Please let us fuck you baby. You know how good we can make you feel." Abby kisses up the thigh of the leg she had wrapped around her waist as she speaks and you shiver at the tickle.

"You know you want it." Ellie had returned to her place at your side and was lightly circling your nipple with her index finger as she spoke.

"Well if you want me that bad how can I refuse?" As soon as you utter those words Ellie is attaching her lips to yours while Abby rips down your bikini bottoms. You're so entranced by the tangle of yours and Ellie's tongues that when Abby's lips attach to your clit and suck with a fervour you gasp in shock. Ellie keeps you firmly held in place as she pushes impossibly further into your mouth, her fingers are pinching and rubbing at your sensitive nipples as your hands find their way into her hair, you tug at her locks as Abby thrusts her middle and ring finger into your dripping hole, her pace only quickens as does Ellie's lips against yours. You can barely breathe with the stimulation they were both giving you, Abby's tongue swirling and sucking on your clit, even occasionally nipping at it as Ellie swirls her tongue over your neck and jawline following its path with open-mouthed kisses that leave a trail of bruises. Before you even register it you're finishing with a scream that's muffled by Ellie's lips that never left yours for a second.

"Come on you." As you're basking in the glow of your orgasm Ellie hoists you up over her shoulder so your hips are bent over it and your face is directly in front of her ass, you can't help but watch it as she walks, the sight making you lick your lips. You look up at Abby following behind and the image of her sucking her fingers clean as she walks makes your cheeks heat. Ellie bites and pinches at your thighs as she walks you to your shared bedroom where she throws you down on the bed. They both stand there eyeing you hungrily as you bite your lip in return.

Ellie climbs onto the bed, simultaneously manhandling you so you're straddling her thigh, Abby joins you both as she sits next to Ellie and pulls you into a longing kiss. You groan as you taste yourself on her tongue and Ellie takes that as her signal to start grinding your hips into her thigh, Abby smiles into the kiss as you gasp and pant, struggling to kiss her back as Ellie's pace quickens. The sensitivity from your previous climax makes your head spin as you feel yourself edging closer to that release all too quickly. Their hands were everywhere they could reach, grabbing and squeezing as the friction of your clit rubbing against Ellie's strong thigh made your breath hitch.

"You look so pretty like this babe." Ellie whispers in your ear before attaching her lips to your neck, your response is a groan that's muffled by Abby's plush lips that never stop her attack on yours. You moan as your hips stutter and you see white as your second orgasm washes over you, Abby detaches her lips from yours to let you catch your breath. Your forehead rests on Abby's shoulder as she rubs at your back while Ellie strokes your hair.

"You look tired, don't tell me you're going soft on us." Abby tuts at you and your lift your head to meet her eyes and smirk.

"You wish." They both chuckle but not enough for them to miss the tiny yawn you suppressed.

"Well you may not be tired but I definitely am." Abby did an overly dramatic yawn.

"Yeah me too." Ellie smiles at you as you raise an eyebrow at her knowingly. You appreciate them playing the game with you, weed had always made you so tired and that combined with sitting in the sun all day knocked you out every time. Abby wasn't lying when she said she was tired though, you all were and the dazed look in their eyes gave them away entirely. You giggle and get off of the bed walking to the ensuite.

"Well how about we pick this back up later on then hm? I need a shower, anyone joining me?" You smirk to yourself as you hear them both rush off of the bed to follow you, you hear their clothes dropping to the floor before you feel their bodies lingering behind yours as you turned the shower on.

You're all basking under the soothing patter of the water falling onto you, you were sandwiched between Abby and Ellie who were facing each other with your arms wrapped round Abby's waist resting your head on her chest. Ellie was rubbing your back as her and Ellie shared a sweet but passionate kiss, you could've fallen asleep right there and then until you jump at the cold loofah being rubbed over your back. The flowery smell of your body wash invades your nostrils and you sigh into Abby's chest as Ellie begins rubbing the loofah all over your arms, she bends down and kisses every inch of the skin on your legs before rubbing suds over them too. As she stands she spins you around to face her pressing a light kiss on your lips before massaging the front of your body with the soapy loofah. She purposely avoids your chest until she's washed everywhere else, the feeling of Ellie rubbing at your tits as Abby bites and sucks on your shoulder has you panting as your head falls back onto Abby.

"God I love your boobs like this. Do you think it would taste bad if I licked the soap off?" Ellie questions. Abby scoffs and you snort before pulling her flush against you. You stay entangled together until you slip from between them, tutting at their matching pouts.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm clean, you're both dirty. Clean up and come meet me downstairs alright?" You wink as you grab your towel wrapping it around yourself and walking off before they can protest.

Ellie looks at Abby with a mischievous smile as she holds up the loofah. "Want me to do you?"

"You're alright thanks." Abby chuckles before pulling Ellie into a harsh kiss, the loofah is long forgotten as Abby pushes Ellie until her back hits the shower wall. Ellie hisses at the sudden cold and Abby looks at her unimpressed. "Don't be a baby."

She kisses down Ellie's neck as her fingers creep towards Ellie's core. As Abby's fingers draw tight circles around Ellie's bud, Ellie's hands find their way into the taller women's hair, tugging hard so that Abby's face is pulled from her neck. They kiss again, though this time it was rushed and feverish as Ellie's hand finds its place at Abby's centre. They both replicate each other's motions as they inch each other towards their orgasms, they're barely kissing each other anymore, instead panting into each other's mouths as their legs tremble. As they both finish they share one more sloppy kiss before grabbing their respective soaps and loofahs, Abby's red and Ellie's purple, you thought you were hilarious buying their loofahs in colours that matched their straps. Once they were both clean they hopped out of the shower both grabbing their towels before walking to meet you.

As they walked into the kitchen they were shocked to see you standing there naked sipping a glass of wine, your face perks up at the sight of them before you hold a hand out to them stopping them in their tracks. "Drop the towels." They huff and roll their eyes as they both do what you say and unwrap their towels. The sight of them standing there completely naked, their muscles rippling with every small movement has you biting your lip and clenching your thighs as they continue walking over to you. "Give me a spin I wanna see the back too." They both spin looking equally as smug and you whistle at them. "That'll do it." They both come to stand beside you each placing a kiss on your cheek.

"I'm feeling a little objectified right now babe." Ellie whispers in your ear and you laugh as you grab her face.

"Sorry love, I promise I don't love you just for that banging body you've got."

"You love me?" Ellie looks like a deer caught in headlights. You had been more affectionate since moving here with the both of them but you had still never said you loved them, you often found yourself pondering it when you had a moment alone. All your life you had accepted the fact that you didn't feel things the way normal people did, the day you killed Richter was the first time you questioned the truth to that statement and the doubt in your mind had only grown. You didn't understand love, you hadn't felt loved by your parents as a child and you had always kept yourself closed off from any relationships as to not create a weakness for yourself so you weren't entirely sure what love was.

But when you looked at both their sun kissed faces framed by their wet hair, you knew, you knew that what you felt for them was love. It wasn't the kind of feeling that weighed on you the way your soft spot for Richter did, it made you feel light as a feather, like you could float away if they weren't there holding you and you're so glad they're holding you because the thought of leaving them caused your stomach to twist.

"Ellie, of course I love you. I love you, Abby, I love you both more than myself, which is hard."

"Oh believe me, we know." Abby snarks before cuddling into your side. "I love you." She directs her attention to Ellie and they exchange an awkward smile. "I love you too, you're both pains in my ass but I love you." Ellie holds Abby's hand that was resting on the small of your back as she mouths 'I love you too.' You smile and turn to face them pulling them into a hug as you take in their fresh scents. You never imagined yourself this way, it felt too soft and humane.

It felt too good for someone like you which is exactly why you love it. Richter had been right that day when you said you always wanted things you couldn't have. It always made you feel powerful, and now standing here with the most beautiful women you had ever laid eyes on, you realised you actually did it. You had proved Richter wrong because there was nothing you couldn't have.

You had it all now.

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theaceace · 6 months

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I'm still thinking about this and people seem to like it so here's some more thoughts, also this is getting its own post now as a follow up to this

Dream is the prince of stories and so he knows already how this story is going to end. How it always ends.

He was there, after all, the first time it was lived, the first time it was told, and heard, and sung, and wept over, and dreamt of. And not only that, but he knows every variation - and there have been so many of them over the years. So many twists and turns that have been dreamt of - so many of them by over a thousand people, until all of them were as true as each other from the beginning to the end. The stories are contradictory, but that doesn't matter. They can all be true nonetheless, and not even Dream knows now which was the original.

(He could know. It would be so easy to know. It must be there within the library - within him - gathering dust. He didn't look, even when he could. He chose not to)

There are worlds in which Orpheus looks back in doubt, in which he is afraid that he has been tricked and his love is still deep in Hades. There are versions that have him unable to bear Eurydice's cries, her wails of anguish, and he turns to comfort her even knowing that it will be their doom. There are tales that have him reach the living world, and in his exultation turn to help Eurydice a moment too soon. There are poems in which he looks back believing he is saving them, and songs in which he knows he is dooming them.

Dream wonders, as he follows silently behind Hob, which version this shall be. Just when his old, old friend will succumb to the tale, as he inevitably must. Will they make it as far as the door - will Dream be afforded a glimpse of sunlight, after a century of the dark? Will he see beyond Hob, for that single moment as he turns in the doorway, see out to the Waking, or to his own realm?

Or will Hob surrender before then? He has made it much further than so many of the others, his back straight and his steps sure. He had marched so confidently from the basement that Dream might have been able to overlook the way his hands trembled. The Dreaming will not make it easy - and Dream has not the power to control it while he is still bound within the narrative. The path through the house is clear, but it is long and circuitous - far more so than its Waking counterpart. Hob does not falter at each twist and turn, but Dream knows there will be other tricks and traps.

(Hob hears voices calling from the other room. He hears Eleanor, hears Robyn, hears the voices of all those he has loved and lost in his long life. They cry out to him, beg him to bring them back too, ask him why he didn't ask the Dream Lord for them to be returned to life. You could have asked for anything - why didn't you ask for me?

Because you're gone. Because I loved you and lost you and mourned you and still I chose to live without you! He doesn't call back. Because my friend is the only person I have never had to lose or leave behind! The voices stop eventually, and the house is silent once more but for a single set of footsteps)

(Once, he hears Dream's voice, begging him to turn and look, please, won't Hob look at him? And Hob only scoffs, because even bound naked and caged for over a century, his friend had not begged for Hob's help. He can't imagine his arrogant old stranger ever begging for anything at all. And so, the house falls silent)

Dream had never thought overmuch about the path Eurydice walked as she followed his son from the depths of Hades. Had she wanted to leave that place, as Dream does? Had she felt some piece of herself returning with each dogged step, or had she followed because the gods willed it, and so she obeyed? She had dreamt often of Orpheus, of their life together - she must have loved him then, while she still lived. Had she loved him then, when he came to fetch her, though she was but a cold shade of herself? (She must have, she must have, she must have, Dream thinks, staring at Hob's back. How could she not, when he was the first warmth she had known in that place?)

Had she known? As they climbed, and she stared at her lover (Dream's son) had she known then that it was futile? Had it mattered to her, or had she been content knowing that Orpheus loved her enough to defy the underworld? Had she watched his back as they walked, and known that the next time she saw his face would be the last? She must have forgiven him, of that Dream is sure. She must have understood.

(Dream has already forgiven Hob for his failure. He knows not when it will come, only that it must, and he isn't angry. This story is as much a part of him as any other - how could he resent Hob for playing his part in it so beautifully?)

Dream has never regretted, before, his reticence when Eurydice still lived. He thinks of his son and the mortal girl he had loved, staring at his dear friend's back, and is unsurprised to find himself crying.

Once, as they draw close to the end, he sees Alexander Burgess watching them from behind a half-closed door. He doesn't know if Hob sees him, doesn't know if his steps are unfaltering through sheer force of will. Alexander watches, his facade flickering between that of an old man, the timid thing that had shot Jessamy at the heart of Dream's prison, and the quaking child that had first followed his father through to the basement of the Dreaming house. Dream cannot harm him, of course. As a young man he had asked for safety, and so safety he would have until he left this place, after spending years glancing back like a hunted animal. Even if there should come a time that Dream is freed, he will not break that vow, and Alex will remain as trapped by his cowardice as he ever was.

But - oh. There it is. The door - he had been distracted, and by the time he looks forward again, they have reached it. Hob reaches for the handle, and still he hasn't looked back. He pulls the door open, and still he hasn't looked back. He steps out, into weak morning sunlight, and still he hasn't looked back. He stands, unmoving apart from the way his clenched fists shake, and still he hasn't looked back.

Dream stands, frozen, in the shadows of the doorway, staring out over the threshold. At the light, at the freedom, so very close. A few steps, nothing more. He doesn't understand - this is never how the story goes. All the dreamers that tried to bend it to their will (the idiots that had given it a happy ending) and inevitably it had returned to its true form, over and over. This isn't... He doesn't...

His throat works, his jaw moves, his voice is thick.

"Hob?" He doesn't understand, he doesn't -

And Hob -

End title

#Dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #Sandman #not exactly a writing tag #Ficlet #Apologies to folks that saw this as a reblog earlier I've decided it deserves its own post

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drdemonprince · 14 days

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TV Glow was devastating. incredibly effective visually, thematically, and performance-wise. Schoenbrun has leveled up in a major way since World's Fair, which I felt like I was five years too old for, both in terms of references and from having seen too much weird shit in this life to be impressed by her version of what's "scary" online.

This movie was far more creatively ambitious and emotionally resonance -- it having a bigger budget certainly helped stretch its legs, and Schoenbrun used it to its fullest.

Justice Smith's acting made me want to cry. He shows a true reverence for the material that few cis actors would; far from viewing the character as a little exercise, he transforms into her discomfort and sadness. His little voice warbles and the way his face softens with hope at a few crucial moments made my heart break for him, knowing already that the dreams he'd barely let himself hold onto would never come true.

I can't believe an Emma Stone produced wide release movie is about transgender egg drama here in 2024. jarring for something that once felt so private and esoteric to be broadly relatable to audiences now. it's fitting, given the movie is about a mass-release TV show that a handful of tender freaks think must be about something so much more than this world would ever let it be. kind of a funny trick there.

is this a movie about depressed isolated queer people whose minds curdle around a random media property because loneliness makes the brain turn inward and eat itself? or is it the tragic tale of a woman who never realized her destiny and allowed the matrix to keep plugging her repeatedly back in?

you can read it both ways at once and it's best if you do. some equipped with fandom goggles with elect to see it only in the more fantastical light.

There are already dozens of people coming out as transgender for the first time in their lives in the Letterboxd reviews of this film, saying they recognize their repression in Owen, their egg at last busted open by this heartbreaking tale of a life unfulfillingly lived. I get it -- before I transitioned, the same thing happened to me with Casey Plett's incredible story collection, A Safe Girl to Love. There is something painfully enchanting about the forever-unrealized trans person whose suffering we imagine would be escapable if only they could admit who they are.

But what do you do when you have overcome your fear of being "crazy," left your old world behind, and passed through that veil to become the person you were always meant to be, only to find that you are still stoop-shouldered and awkward, still overlooked with your heart cut out of you, apologizing to others for your asthma in between your death rattles? What if you never get all the poison out? After you figure out you're a hero from another dimension, what will you do if you can never get back?

I find myself asking these things, as a person who used to fantasize that transitioning would solve all my problems. The imagined future transitioned me felt so distant that it was easy to push him off. And then after years passed, when I finally reached out to claim him, I discovered he was just as awkward, lonesome, insecure, and unhappy as I was, because he was just me. If i'd always been transgender, then I'd always been unhappy for deeply transgender reasons back then, too, and I'd already known a whole lot more about what it meant to be me than I'd thought that I had. Fantasies had been a seductive distraction from the world that was trying to kill me, and they suffocated me whether I denied them or if I believed in them.

This is a movie about fantasies, and the suburbs, and about being transgender. And it's bleak, but I think some who are on the cusp of making the same realizations as Owen can't fully know why yet. Life on the other side of knowing is more liveable, but I can't explain why. It didn't make things better. It wasn't the great escape I had hoped. But it did force me to confront who I was and how many monsters there always had been all around me. And that's better than living in a fantasy.

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expectopatronum81 · 8 months

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Unpopular opinion but......

Am I the only one who misses the og marauders? The marauders fandom isn't even about the marauders now, 99% of their canon personality traits hv been replaced with cliqued behaviour. For some reason there's a massive obsession with their sexuality and I just don't get it? Lyk can't u have a character with any sexual orientation with personality traits outside it anymore? Does there really need to be a complete erasure of their most defining traits? I just wish we could get the actual marauders era characters back

James Potter: Pureblood, rich, intelligent, arrogant, a bully, but extremely loyal; took Sirius in and turned into an animagus for his werewolf bestie when the whole world would have shunned him; he could have led a life of utmost comfort but chose to risk his life and fight for those he loved in a war that didn't even concern him personally. His last words were asking his wife and child to escape while he tried to hold voldy off without a wand

Sirius Black: Haughty, a bully, extremely good looking, cool, rich, blood traitor by 16, comes from a family of literal death eaters, very intelligent, loyal, will do anything for those he loves( especially james and later Harry), thick as hell (my boy really survived in a depression prison for 12yrs, tht too after all the horror he'd seen before that), dark, very traumatized and broken

Remus Lupin: Gentle (yup u read that right), kind, mischievous (ppl really overlook this), very insecure, let james and Sirius bully Snape coz he was too thankful for their acceptance and affection to tell them off, considered himself undeserving of love, his self loathing prevents him from being a responsible adult/ parent for Harry, lowkey manipulative. Very compassionate and empathetic even after everything he's been thru tho

Peter Pettigrew: Considered slow and stupid, insecure, tags along with the others for protection, but obviously cunning and manipulative, a disgusting rat tho

Regulus Black: Teenage Reggie worshipped death eaters, he had newspaper clippings of them on his wall, completely believed in those racist ideologies until he realised what the reality of being a death eater was. He tried to bring voldy down but there's no evidence of him completely changing his beliefs about everything else like muggle borns, muggles, werewolves etc. Very cunning and intelligent tho, he discovered voldemort's secret before Dumbledore did. Liked kreacher but kreacher was also brainwashed with pureblood ideology, so I ll only give him half the credit. Bravely sacrificed his life in the end, but he still chose to protect his racist family.

Lily Evans: muggleborn, good at portions, described as popular and vivacious, pretty, the favourite sibling, isn't afraid of standing up to ppl (tht smirk in swm tho?), very brave, and most importantly (ppl really choose to forget this nowadays) a mother who stood in front of her baby boy in hopes of saving him from the darkest wizard alive even tho she herself was only 21 at the time, tht too right after losing her husband. Tho I'd still say that lily is a badly written character

It's fun to explore characters but not one of these core characteristics r even present. They're turned into one dimensional social justice warriors who r always right in everything they do

Now I get it, ppl want them to fit with current day ideals, but y not just create different/new characters then? What's the point of holding on to that nostalgia if most of their character isn't even there anymore? Where's all the toxicity coming from? And anyone who doesn't agree is homophobic and whatever other -phobic u choose to employ in the most irrelevant context ever. It's all so stupid smh🙄

#harry potter #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #regulus black #lily evens #marauders era #mauraders #anti fanon #anti marauders #pro james potter #pro sirius black #pro remus lupin #pro lily evans #pro regulus black #pro sirius

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