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#I should rewatch it sometime or another
maydays-medbay · 10 months
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Commission for @purpleturtle9000! I had a lot of fun making this piece, and I like the outcome a lot! I'm not used to drawing movie designs but 2018 Bee is one of my favorites <3
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deankarolina · 11 months
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Simone Kessell in Xena
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katierosefun · 7 months
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oh there's something particularly painful about my mister in that dong hoon tells ji an that as long as no one knows, it's no big deal, and there's something particularly painful about how ji an tells dong hoon that sometimes, i want [my secret] to play out on big screens for everyone to see, and there's something particularly painful about how the second dong hoon meets the loan shark tormenting ji an, he starts screaming and yelling about how she's just a kid, how could you do that to a kid, and there's something particularly painful about how dong hoon doesn't even let ji an know he did that, but ji an knows. she knows because she was listening in the entire time and she just starts crying because someone actually knows this ugly, sad part of her and still took her side, and something particularly painful about how my mister started with as long as no one knows, it's no big deal but really concludes with there is so much risk in having someone know who you are but there's also so much comfort and peace to be found in that, too and maybe you shouldn't isolate yourself and maybe you should reach for that kind of comfort in being known and loved anyways
#caroline talks#my mister#if this is incoherent. it should be#rewatched the first 2.5 episodes of my mister last night#felt like crying my eyes out the entire time tbh!!#every time i watch this show there's just something about it that hurts me more and more and there's something that makes the messages#in this show feel more and more relevant#idk. thinking a lot about when ji an talks about how sometimes she wishes. sometimes she wishes#that everyone knew what she'd done and what had been done to her.#something about how ji an can't ever bring herself to connect truly with another person because of how much she hates#the feeling of people realizing what her past looks like#and not wanting to withstand the pity and also horror. like. okay.#something about ji an sobbing by the bridge when she listens to dong hoon pummeling that loan shark guy#and how i used to always cry at that scene but now i tear up just thinking about it#because you know! there's that shock (that firstly: someone knows your miserable secret. and secondly: they're still on your side)#and then absolute heartache because you don't know what to do with that information. you didn't expect it.#you're sobbing at a bridge because someone knows who you are and someone knows the scars of your past and still gets angry and sad for you.#and you still feel like you don't deserve it because you know deep down you are not a very good person (or so you tell yourself).#and. oughough. lee ji an holds such a place in my miserable little heart
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bmpmp3 · 1 year
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one of my favourite character relationship dynamics, platonic romantic or anything, is when two characters are absolutely the bestest of best friends and when one is hurt or something the other will scream and cry and wail and explode and when the other is in danger then the first one will go on some kind of silent terminator-esque rampage about it. besties (do no separate)
#i havent watched more than season 3 of x files but i rewatched season 2 recently#and that entire season along with the first half of season 3 (where i am now LOL) have been entirely this#literally like. mulders the screaming crying throwing up type and scullys the terminator one#its awesome#another far less obvious and possibly less intentional example but recently ive been reading some villainess manwha called#a villainess no more and like. the romance is kinda sweet and gentle and cute and all but like#i kind of really loved in the early parts where they kinda just became besties at first sight#like bro......they are BEST FRIENDS#rn in the story ive gotten to the point where theyre best friends And lovers which is sweet#its interesting though normally im a huge sap who loves romance in like everything but like...i kinda preferred them just as besties?#not something that happens to me often (nothing wrong with purely platonic relationships im just a romantic dweeb)#(theres exceptions of course. speaking of scully and mulder i like them best not as romantic or platonic but a secret third thing)#(theyre relationship is: scully and mulder. you know. thats their relationship status)#but this is a case where i really loved the platonic married besties dynamic a LOT#are there any comics or something about two besties being married platonically. maybe im craving something i never knew i craved#besties wedding. besties wedding#but i guess its no surpirse that i love besties dynamics if you remember all my complaints about certain routes in certain sengoku era otog#i think shingens route should have had more goofing around. i think mc and shingen should have become besties before romance#sometimes i cant buy romance unless they become best friends first. become BUDDIES before u put a ring on it#if that makes sense. who knows what im talking about. hold your besties real close tonight.....for me#(a transparent version of me smiling is overlayed over the night sky before i fade away into stardust)
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kakusu-shipping · 2 years
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The year is 2022 and I am a little guy legally married to Makarov Dreyar of the Fairy Tail Guild, as 13 year old me would have wanted.
Self Insert and just straight up Making Things Up about Fairy Tail Lore beneath the cut
So, in the world of Fairy Tail I am a Vampire, pushing 600 years old. I’m lifting a lot of this from young mes original self insert which pushed the Immortal Loli/Shota trope, so I am Makarov’s 3′nothing size.
The rest of this is more origonal
In his 600 years, Emile became the (to his knowledge) last living pure blooded vampire, as much like Dragons, Vampires were eventually hunted to near extinction by humans after catting and feeding of them for so long.
Emile survived due to his small stature and young appearance, keeping humans from believing him to be the immortal creature of the night that had been feeding from their village for years.
Now alone, Emile travels the continent, avoiding staying in one place for too long, inventing Magic Items such as The Magicmobile to assist humans, and gather a growing wealth deposited in banks across the land.
To gain access to these springs of wealth, however, he has to be a legal citizen of the country he is currently staying it. As he can’t exactly claim to be the 100+ year old original opener of the account, he instead has to play the decedent. Starting first with forged documents, he puts himself in schools, moving every other grade to avoid suspicion as he doesn’t age or grow, and ending with a big of Marriage Fraud to solidify his residency, and gain access to his accounts.
This is how he ended up with Makarov Dreyar, after all the Fairy Tail guild seems to rack up a lot of repair bills, would be rather nice to have someone with plenty of spare wealth to pay it all off.
Emile, as an ancient being, has a lot of deeper understanding of magic than most in the guild. In his time he’s had the space and practice to master most types of magics, only Celestial Magic still eludes him.
He’s more than happy to spread this magic onto others, teaching Cana card magic, Erza her requip spells, helping Mira and Elfman perfect Take Overs, he even implanted the Lighting Dragon Lacrima in Laxus when he was a mere toddler.
Early in Emile’s life in the guild he saw no problem teaching such young children dangerous magics. So long as he’d lived, he knew of human’s short life spans. Keeping the Guild strong mattered more than keeping the kids safe. Sending them on jobs alone, charging them jewel for food or rent around the guild seemed fair. They’re old enough to be part of a guild they’re old enough to work and pay for their rights to stay.
Until Lisanna died.
He hadn’t really thought himself attached to this kids, Makarov’s kids, until he stood beside him at Lisanna’s funeral, staring at a tombstone with such a young age on it.
He did that.
He let a child go on an S class quest. He taught a child dangerous magics. He told Makarov they’d be fine on their own.
Rules changed soon after. Minors were no longer allowed on S Class Quests at all. Minors also were not allowed to take monster hunting jobs without an adult in the party. S Class Quests were moved upstairs and fewer of them were accepted.
Emile started making magic items for everyone in the guild on top of making Erza’s armor and weapons. Just something to help them on quests, a little something to lean on, to keep them safe, to hold on to.
He tries not to be too protective over the kids, he knows they’re goo wizards and can handle themselves. But they’re also just so squishy, humans with such short life spans always running head first into trouble.
He understands why Makarov went bald so quickly now.
#Emile's Arts#Fairy Tail#Self Insert#Self Ship#It's me and my kind of a mary sue self insert because we all get one so I chose the Mary Sue Anime#If you treat Fairy Tail like a Gag Manga it gets better actually dkgjdksjgkf#Okay realy talk I did not expect to get as emotionally attached to the Fairy Tail cast when I started rewatching it this year#Like not only did I fall hard in love with Makarov but the kids started mattering to me right like those are MY KIDS#I have a few plot points I spesifically want to cover for this SI like#In season 1 when Laxus is having his Rebellion arc and Makarov has a heart attack and nearly straight up dies#It's like. Kinda just brushed off in canon like yeah he took his meds he's fine now#In my canon tho he did actually die there#But only for a moment#Being around for 600 years comes with perks including forbidden magics#Death Magic and Life Magic are really one in the same when you've been around long enough#So he swore Porlyusica to secrecy and brought Makarov back#Then another thing I know the lack of healing magic is like. A Thing right like support Magic is a forgotten art form#And I wrote it off for the thing I said a minute ago Life Magic just being too close to Death Magic so when you ban one you ban the other#Right but also I think Water should be able to heal most elements have healing abilities so like#Sometime before the 7 year gap I start teaching my sweet baby girl Juvia water based healing spells#I also was On The Island when the 7 year gap happens because I say so#Then finally the big 7 Dragons fight after the Grand Magic Games#Up till this point I don't use a lot of magic or get in a lot of fights and that's just because#I know my kids can handle it and it's more fun to watch Natsu do it plus he'd throw a fit if he didn't get to do it#But the Dragon Thing was like serious so I did a lot of shit#Mainly Healing everyone who fought in the finals of the games so they'd be good to go#Putting a large scale protection spell on every person in the city in an attempt to keep the civillian casualties down#Fending off Atlas Flame from the rest of Fairy Tail until Laxus stepped in#And taking down tons of the little soldiers to keep Makarov and Asuka safe after everyone split up#So for the first time in probably 400 years I completely drained all of my magic energy
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nerdie-faerie · 1 year
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Thirteen being impressed by the hologram in the first series -> thirteen interacting with her companions as a hologram twice in later series
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dinopant · 2 years
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sighs sadly remember final space and how it really did not get its due...
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wp100 · 4 months
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i miss my spongebob fixation
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i really do live for nostalgia, huh?
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hadesrise · 1 year
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𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥.
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summary ➳ harry noticed you’re not like any other slytherin
pairings ➳ harry james potter x male reader
warnings ➳ fluff, mutual pining, foul language, reader being an adorable slytherin, touch-deprived harry, just the chosen one thirsting over reader lmao, mentions of making out, soft!slytherin reader, pet names ( darling, love )
author’s note ➳ rewatching harry potter made me recall the time when i used to fantasize about two persons from supposedly rival houses falling for each other and saying “fuck it” to their rivalry before making out. yes, it's typical, but i like it just the way it is.
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Of all the houses in Hogwarts, it’s well known that Slytherin is the most disliked one due to their personality that doesn’t seem to include kindness regardless of how others treat them. This might have only been a stereotype that students from other houses pushed on Slytherin, but they had a very reasonable excuse for thinking of Slytherins that way because of a particular blonde haired snake and his goons that terrorize anyone and everyone they come across. Not only that, but most people from Slytherin are unpleasant to say the least and Harry can only name a few who aren’t, like Professor Slughorn for example.
So, understandably, Harry thought you’re going to be as unpleasant as other Slytherins too after Hermione accidentally bumped into you and dropped her books to scatter all over the ground. The Golden trio were walking down the hallway leading towards Hagrid’s hut, talking to one another about how Professor Trelawney freaked out again today at Divination, with Hermione carrying books more heavier than usual (the two boys offered to carry them but she refused), before they turned a corner and she collided on a rather hard chest.
She was going to apologize, but her eyes — in sync with Harry’s and Ron’s — landed on the green colored tie with silver stripes, and the blood immediately drained from her face. It’s not like she can’t defend herself, considering she sucker punched Malfoy on the third year, but dealing with a bunch of snakes can be really exhausting sometimes and frankly, she isn’t in the mood to fight with them today.
Without a word, Hermione crouches down to pick up her books. Much to their surprise, the Slytherin knelt down to help her gather the heavier and thicker books Ron and Harry were about to pick up.
When they finally made an effort to look at the unusual Slytherin Hermione bumped into, Harry was surprised to see a very good looking and attractive boy with (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes that seemed to spark under the light. Despite the books being heavy, you carried it easily as if they have the weight of a feather, placing another book on top of them — Harry figured you were reading it before the disaster struck.
“Are these books from Hagrid?”
The Chosen One felt his stomach fill with butterflies and heart suddenly beat rapidly at the sound of your soothing voice.
He was so used to Slytherins having that obnoxiously annoying voice, where he doesn’t know whether to cover his ears or rip them away from the sides of his head. But your voice was, even with a tone deeper than average, smooth and gentle. There was no hint of venom, distaste, unpleasantness, or despise. Just curiosity and interest. Harry also noticed you called Hagrid by his name rather than the awful big oaf other Slytherins call him all the time.
“Oh, uhm... Yes.” It took a while for Hermione to overcome the surprise and provide an answer.
“Interesting,” You hummed quietly. “I should drop by Hagrid and burrow some of his books too. He must have the book of Ancient Magical Creatures.” Muttering to yourself, the Golden trio couldn’t help but crack a smile when you seem to forget for a split second that you weren’t alone.
Gathering some courage, Harry decides to break your little bubble by hesitantly speaking. “Er — excuse me?”
“Yes?” You turn to look and catch his emerald eyes.
“You can come with us if you want. We don’t mind.”
A tiny bit of smile forms on your lips, almost unnoticeable. “With pleasure. Though, I don’t suppose it’s alright for Gryffindors to walk around with Slytherin.” You glanced around, “Some of the people from your house doesn’t tolerate their fellow Gryffindor hanging out with the rival house.”
“I think you’re okay,” Ron says reluctantly.
“If you say so.” Amusement flashes across your eyes. “Also, I’ll carry these books instead.” You didn’t let Hermione protest as you began to walk nonchalantly towards Hagrid’s hut with a slight delay to your steps; Harry figured you were purposely walking slower than your normal pace so it would be easy to walk with your shoulders lining with theirs.
You introduced yourself to them after successfully burrowing a book from Hagrid that you were searching for.
Ever since then, Harry would find himself scanning every classroom he’s in to look for you, taking mental notes of the similar classes you have together, and if you’re nowhere to be seen, he would just attempt to at least catch a glimpse of you in the Great Hall by the Slytherin table. Sometimes, when he’s fortunate enough, your eyes would meet his across the hall and you would give him the faintest of smile before returning to your meal. Other times, when the both of you are free, you would talk with each other for a while until the next class comes.
Spending his time with you made Harry notice things — such as how you’re mostly quiet, which isn’t very common in Slytherin; their loud voices being very distinguishable in the Great Hall explains that. You’re also a bit of a bookworm as he often sees you carrying or reading them around, it made him wonder why you weren’t placed in Ravenclaw, but he suppose being interested in books doesn’t automatically make someone a Ravenclaw. He also noticed the way your facial expression rarely shows rapid or strong emotions, mostly expressing boredom to anyone and anything around you, if not, your face just remains emotionless with a what Harry knew was called resting bitch face. Though, your wonderful eyes do spark seemingly brighter when you’re with him.
Another brilliant thing is finding out you don’t tolerate any of Malfoy’s bullshit.
You seem to disagree with everything the blonde says, which leads to Malfoy spitting some nasty insults in attempt to get under your skin, only to cower away when you raise a brow at him paired with deadly calm expression, which is much scarier than anything in Harry’s opinion. You were definitely not like any other Slytherin he’s ever met.
“Ron, getting a detention at potions isn’t a good reason to set Professor Snape’s office on fire!” Hermione hissed.
“But ‘ermione, he’s horrible!” Retorts Ron and turns to his best friend to plead, “Back me up here, mate!”
However, he doesn’t receive a response as Harry was too busy ogling at a particular someone by the Slytherin’s table, his hand not moving from the parchment that began to be soaked in black ink due to his quill being pressed on it. Ron and Hermione looked at each other questioningly and followed Harry’s gaze, their eyes landing on you eating quietly while ignoring the chaos members from your house were bringing. You almost looked peaceful despite surrounded by loud chattering, laughter, and the clinks of utensils against the plate.
Your patience isn’t high; you often get annoyed easily, but the way you’re unbothered no matter what’s happening around you made it seem like your patience was limitless.
Hermione rolled her eyes after realizing Harry was waiting for you to notice and rolls up the parchment she had before whacking the back of his head with it, successfully snapping him out of his daydream. “What do you think’s gonna happen if you just stare at (Y/n)?”
The Chosen One cleared his throat, taking a glance at you and quickly returning it to his best friends. “What am I supposed to do then? I can’t just walk up to him in front of other Slytherins.”
“I’d rather see you do anything than ogle at him everyday and act like an idiot.” She sighs exasperatedly.
For a boy who survived the Killing Curse and Voldemort’s multiple serious death threats, he was one hell of an annoying dork when it comes to love. He was painfully obvious with his growing crush towards you, even other Gryffindors had begun to suspect it, yet haven’t done anything to change the relationship you two have — sure, it can be called friendship, but Hermione and almost all of their friends could agree it is more than that. They couldn’t honestly contain their frustration at Harry being content with just this.
“It’s no use, Hermione.” Ron whispered when Harry went back to ogling at you. “He says he’s not going to do anything about it unless he’s sure there’s a chance.”
Sighing, the bushy haired girl shakes her head and slumped on her seat defeatedly.
How long do they have to deal with a lovesick Harry?
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Searching around the school grounds, Harry finally found you reading by the Black Lake, not caring that your robe might get dirty as you sat on the ground and read another book. It was a windy day that sent calm energy throughout your body, the rustling of leaves and the sound of lake soothing you more than usual, allowing you to focus more on the context of your book. You loved the silence where no voices or other noises can be heard, just the sound of nature slipping into your ears.
Harry slowly approached as to not startle you, but felt himself relax after you pay him no mind and sat down beside where you are. The sky seems brighter than he remembers, with only small particles of cloud littered all around.
“Are you feeling well?” You asked without looking up from your book, and Harry hugs his knees to his chest, watching the wind cause waves of water on the lake.
“Better now that I found you.” The seemingly flirtatious sentence was uttered in complete sincerity and seriousness that even Harry himself didn’t expect. The tip of his ears turned bright red in increasing embarrassment as you snapped your eyes to him, seeing an adorable blush spread rapidly across his cheeks, avoiding eye contact with you at all costs.
You hum, slamming the book shut. Harry was now staring straight ahead at the lake, as if there was something interesting in it, making amusement appear on your usually expressionless face. “Look at you blushing, Potter. So adorable.” You whispered the last part, almost teasingly, and he blushes even more.
“Well, you’re adorable as well.” Harry dares meeting your eyes. His heart bangs even more loudly in his chest after seeing the almost loving look in them, finding himself admiring you.
All playfulness leaves your face as you stare into each other’s eyes with a mirroring hint of adoration. You shift to lean back on one of your hand while the other rise to brush a hair out of Harry’s forehead, before cupping his cheek, admiring the way his emerald eyes sparked under the warm sunlight. This is your first time seeing his face close and having the time to focus on his features more; you knew Harry was attractive the moment you set eyes on him, but you realized he looked almost ethereal at this point, making your heart flutter.
“Your eyes are really captivating,” You muttered, barely audible but reached Harry’s ears nonetheless.
He chuckled breathlessly, “I got it from my mum.”
“She must’ve been such a wonderful woman then.”
Your thumb gently rubbed his cheek and Harry couldn’t help but lean to your touch and close his eyes. He’s been touch-deprived for long, being touched with care and gentleness made him weak in the knees easily. A coo escape from your lips; an unlikely sound for Slytherin to make. Before Harry could process what was happening, you had set aside your book and pulled him to your lap, settling him between your legs. Harry blinks, surprised.
“I’m seriously soft for you, Potter. Too adorable.” You sigh, burying your hand through his dark locks and softly scratching his scalp.
Getting over his initial shock, Harry relaxed and made himself comfortable, letting his body rest against yours as he laid his head on your chest. It worried him that you might hear his rapidly beating heart, but honestly couldn’t bring himself to care when you were being so generous, holding him, playing with his hair. If others were to see you and him like this, they would certainly assume it’s the end of the world for two rival houses to be cuddly with each other when they usually spit hatred.
Though, after meeting you, Harry had begun to believe not all Slytherins are bad — it’s just that people, including himself, unfairly stereotyped them as a bunch of evil-doers only because of the choices that older people from Slytherin made in the past, which the young Slytherins are definitely not in control of. There are questionable Slytherins like Malfoy and his goons, but they’re not a reason for others to start generalizing that all students from the snake house is evil.
Slowly and albeit hesitantly, Harry wraps his arms around your back and nuzzles your chest. You’re absolutely different from other Slytherin members, but he still found it odd that a Slytherin is this nice and affectionate, especially when you’re usually quiet and socially distant, preferring to be alone with slightest bit of annoyance directed at your fellow housemates.
Closing his eyes as sleepiness start to fall over his eyelids, the Chosen One wondered why you’re only doing this with and to him. He’s never seen you with anyone before, and when he did, you always maintained clear distance from them, as if they held contagious disease. It made him feel special in any way, but also confused.
“(Y/n)?”
His sleepy voice make you chuckle softly. “Hmm?”
“Why are you so affectionate with me?”
Your hand playing with his hair abruptly stops, and for a second Harry thought he made a mistake of mentioning it. However, relief floods him when you went back to massaging his scalp. “Isn’t it obvious, Potter?”
He shakes his head. Don’t want to assume.
Silence falls as you stop your hand again. Curiosity of your expression plaguing his mind, Harry opens his eyes and looks up without moving from his laying position — his breath almost stopping when he came across a very loving gaze staring at him like he was the entire universe. His heart swell as heat rushes to his cheeks. He attempted to hide his face by burying it on your chest, but you held him still, hand cupping his cheek once again.
You don’t even give him time to react before you captured his lips on yours, practically stealing Harry’s breath away. Just a gentle kiss on the lips, but enough to make his brain fuzzy.
Pulling away before he could reciprocate, you smiled. Not a forced one, but genuine and coming from the bottom of your heart. “Does that answer your question, Harry?”
Despite the fluttering of his heart and the urge to jump up and down in pure joy, Harry pouts. “Not enough.”
You chuckled. “I need to be persuasive then.”
Needless to say, you both missed the next class making out by the Black Lake and not caring about getting caught.
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Ron and Hermione were freaked out. The reason lies with Harry, who’s been in an awfully good mood the entire day to the point even Malfoy can’t get through him and he began noticing some good qualities in some of the Slytherin members. Don’t get them wrong, Harry being in a good mood is great because the boy deserves a day without constantly fighting for his life and feeling like everyone’s against him, but attempting to find the good qualities even in Malfoy? That’s when the two gets really concerned.
When lunch break comes around, Harry was still in a brilliant mood, smiling to himself because of whatever merlin knows. Ron and Hermione shares a look as they continue to eat, observing their best friend who began to look for you in the Slytherin table, his smile immediately widening after he sees you.
Hermione turns around just in time for you to look up from the foods and meet Harry’s eyes. Unexpectedly, a soft smile appears on your lips as you wave at him, not caring when your housemates see it. Harry chuckled, waving back, before you returned to eating your food in silence. The three of them witnessed Malfoy mutter something that caused you to roll your eyes and smack the back of his head with the book you were reading before.
“So,” Ron began after he and Hermione looked back at Harry. “Is there something you’re not telling us, ‘arry?”
The said boy only raised his eyebrows, unable to contain his grin.
“Come on, Harry!” Hermione urged.
Before anyone could respond, however, someone took a seat on the empty space beside Harry — turning their heads, they were surprised to see you there.
“Hello, love.” Harry almost melted at the pet name. You gave his best friends a polite smile, “Excuse him from your conversation for a moment, Hermione, Ron.”
“Of course, go ahead.” Neither of them could honestly deny a polite Slytherin no matter how much they want to.
“What is it?” Harry questioned, more than welcome to talk with you. However, you seem to have a different idea in mind as you leaned in without a word and captured his lips in a lingering kiss, hearing gasps erupt from multiple places — mainly Ron, Hermione, any Gryffindor who were wondering why a Slytherin paid Harry Potter a visit, Malfoy, his goons, and some other Slytherins who just happened to catch the moment. Few students from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw had their mouths open in shock as well.
There was a smug look on your face when you pulled away, smirking at Malfoy who was previously babbling some nonsense that you couldn’t possibly like Potter and are probably just using him. By the looks of it, you had succeeded in proving the blonde ferret wrong.
“What was that for?” Harry asked breathlessly. You caught him off guard.
“Oh, nothing. Just proving to gits that Gryffindor and Slytherin are sometimes compatible if it’s with the right person.” You shrugged, resting an elbow on the table and putting your chin on the palm of your hand. “In short, I wanted to prove people wrong who says we can’t be together since you’re a Gryffindor as I am a Slytherin.”
“Wait, someone told you that?”
“Rumors of us being seen making out by the Black Lake travels fast,” You sipped on Harry’s pumpkin juice, which he didn’t mind even the slightest as he blushed, avoiding Ron’s and Hermione’s wide and intrigued eyes. “One little bird from Ravenclaw thought it’d be wise to practically squeal it in the hallways that the rumor’s impossible because of our houses rivalry.”
You snort, “As if we give a fuck about that.”
For the first time, Harry actually saw the Slytherin in you.
And he wasn’t going to complain, not when you’re not like any other.
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© ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴅᴇsʀɪsᴇ. sᴛᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ, ᴘʟᴀɢɪᴀʀɪᴢɪɴɢ, ᴏʀ ᴜsɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ғᴏʀ ᴍᴏɴᴇᴛᴀʀʏ ɢᴀɪɴ ɪs sᴛʀɪᴄᴛʟʏ ᴘʀᴏʜɪʙɪᴛᴇᴅ. ᴀsᴋ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪɴɢ.
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astupidweeb69 · 2 months
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You know x-virus don’t get enough love…. Do you have any head cannons regular or nsfw (maybe both)??
I've been thinking about this guy a lot lately for some reason. Also I've never written for Cody before so hopefully this came out okay.
I was going to work on Toby's but.... I have more inspiration for Cody at the moment. He absolutely doesn't get enough love!
X-Virus Headcannons
SFW
Isn't related to Toby at all. In fact doesn't really look like him either. Sure, he's got the brown hair, but he looks waaay more dorky than Toby does. While Toby has kind of a boy-next-door-from-hell look to him, Cody is more slender and works out less. He looks like your typical STEM student (sickly complexion, poor nutrition, etc.). His whole schtick requires him to stay indoors most of the time, in a make-shift lab.
Has a refrigerated van, which he paid to be converted to safely transport whatever science experiments he's got going on in a temperature-controlled environment.
He tries to stay in one place. He's less of a drifter than most of the other creeps but sometimes... the things he does requires him to uproot his life and start over in another town. (No Cody you can't just infect your landlord with a mutated form of tuberculosis when they raise your rent! There will be consequences!)
Has kind of a nasally voice. I feel like he always has a bit of a cold too.
Ironically has a shitty immune system, and probably drinks those Airborne Immune Support drink mixes like it's his job. Also a germaphobe, wearing medical gloves all the time, and his hands are dry and cracked from overusing sanitizer.
LOVES Re-animator. He's rewatched that movie more times than he can count. But he has a love for science fiction movies in general, with horror elements to them. Like Alien.
Also loves zombie apocalypse movies, but that's an obvious one. Specifically 28 Days Later and World War Z.
Sometimes he's like... should I try to make a zombie virus? nah.... unless...?
I also think he was raised by a single father, who worked for a large pharmaceutical company.
Antisocial. I know Toby and him are compared a lot and people give them similar 'hyperactive' personalities, but I don't see that for Cody at all.
Cody's more focused, and is less inclined to interact with others. He doesn't really get lonely?
I'd say he'd get along okay with someone like EJ (both like science, ya know?).
Toby and him hang out a bit - they'll stay in and watch movies together. Or Cody will tag along with him to a bar and watch as Toby fails to pick up anybody. Cody wouldn't say it to his face, but it makes him feel better about his own social skills to see Toby strike out like that.
NSFW (Under the cut!)
I don't know how he'd find himself in this situation - but if he DID have a partner.... the sex would be kind of bland at first?
He doesn't know what he wants and frankly is too much of a germaphobe to get up close and personal with someone he doesn't know well.
You'd have to spend months getting to know him for him to feel comfortable to engage in anything sexual.
I think at the start of the relationship, he'd want to experiment with voyeurism.
He'd be across the room watching you touch yourself, giving you directions while he slowly strokes his cock, loving the feeling of ordering you around.
But as things escalate, of course, he'd give in to his urges. However, the voyeurism would become how he likes to foreplay.
Out of all the creeps (most of whom I view as being dominant) he's actually pretty tame.
He whimpers a lot, and it sounds almost pathetic when he moans. He's been holding out for so long for the right person, and when he finally gets to fuck he's absolutely drunk off of you.
That said, his sex drive is about average.
One of his roleplay fantasies is him being the experienced scientist, and you being his lovely little assistant.
Probably started after the first time you helped him in his lab.
He just kept thinking of you in a tiny little lab coat, bent over his desk - papers and test tubes falling to the ground while his hips piston into you.
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shorelinessightlines · 5 months
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Jupiter is often referred to as the star that failed. Max thinks about that, sometimes, when they're racing and he's just passed Daniel on track. He can look in his rearview mirrors and see the little three on the AlphaTauri—Daniel, in a shitty car he outperforms every weekend, and Max, already set for the podium.
When Max is particularly bored, he rewatches old races from 2014, ‘16, ‘18 and thinks about it, unbidden—how if Lewis and Max simply didn't exist, it might’ve been Daniel on the top step at the very end of the season. Daniel fighting for titles and wins, not letting anyone keep the 1st place cap on their head long enough to mess up their hair. If he'd just been a little quicker, a little more ruthless; if he'd stuck around long enough for the Honda engine, the RB19. If Daniel had just been a fraction of a second better.
Then Max feels bad for ever thinking such a thing. Not because it isn’t true, but because it sounds like something his dad would say.
Jos used to buy Max magazines full of interviews by Senna, Prost, Mansell. He said they were full of stars. He laughed at Max when they got home after Zandvoort in 2011, back when Max was still in karting and Daniel was just starting out in F1, and Max had said: "I want to be just like him."
That Christmas Jos bought Max a poster of Nigel Piquet and said, "This is the type of man you should be looking up to." Max hung it up on his ceiling that night and stared at it. He had thought, privately, that if Piquet was a star then he must have been one of those small stars, the ones that you can’t really see from Earth without a telescope. Daniel was closer, brighter. Sun-like.
He tore down the poster the next morning.
Jos was right, of course, to steer Max towards more successful heroes. Jos would never point to Daniel's article in GQ Sports and tell Max he's looking at a star. Daniel smiles at him, though, on the paddock and off, and it feels like sunshine.
He tells Daniel as much during the summer break, in Daniel's Monaco apartment, tipsy off some expensive wine Max can't even pronounce the name of.
"Jupiter is a very stupid planet," Max is ranting, unreasonably pissed about it. "You know, it has ninety-five moons? The fuck does it need ninety-five moons for? Stupid." He chugs another sip of wine, straight from the bottle. Daniel does the same.
"Jupiter?" Daniel muses after he swallows, less inebriated than Max but still drunk enough to have begun sitting on the couch upside down. The top of his skull almost touches the floor. "Mate, don't diss Jupiter like that. Space gets lonely, maybe."
Max snorts. "It is a planet, Daniel, it does not get lonely. It should just have one moon, or no moons. It is not very loyal."
"It is a planet, Maximus, it cannot be loyal," Daniel says back to him, snarky, in a high-pitched voice and a bad Dutch accent.
"Is that supposed to be me?" He shoves at him, accidentally causing Daniel's head to bang against the floor. Whatever. He deserves it. "Name one good thing about Jupiter."
Daniel shrugs as best as he can. "Biggest planet in our solar system or whatever the fuck. Why are we talking about Jupiter again?"
"Because it is awful, and my dad is not correct." Daniel laughs, at that.
"What? Does your dad, like, love Jupiter or something?"
Max points, accusatory. "See, that is exactly the point! He does not love Jupiter! In fact, he is awful about Jupiter!"
Max can almost see the gears in Daniel's head grind together slowly. "Then why are you dissing Jupiter?"
Max groans. His thoughts make less and less sense the more he goes on. "I am not, of course, dissing Jupiter. I am simply pointing out the fact that Jupiter is not a star and you, obviously, are a star." He's getting lost in his own, brilliant analogy.
Daniel says, "Oh yeah, Maxy?" He has his stupid smile on, the one that Max knows means he thinks Max is crazy but will indulge him anyway. "Well it's very nice that you think so."
"Of course I think so," Max scoffs, perfectly serious. He hates that he can't really look Daniel in the eye, sitting right-side-up. He opts to sit like Daniel, head towards the floor and legs slung over the back of the couch, so he can stare directly at him. "I am being serious."
"Well, I'm serious about that Jupiter shit. Best planet ever. Number one Jupiter defender, right here," Daniel slurs, pointing at himself and flashing his brilliant, sun-warm smile.
Max can't help but smile too.
"You are very stupid," he says, and it sounds like something else. "I am trying to tell you that I think you—you." He flushes, cutting himself off and looking away from Daniel, up towards the ceiling.
"Ah, whatever Maxy. You just can't accept Jupiter's superiority."
Max tries one last time, to make him understand. "Jupiter is called the star that failed," he says, trying to prove something.
Daniel is looking at him, he can feel it. His stare burns a hole in the side of Max's head. "I'm okay with that," he says, suddenly very very soft. "Jupiter's the biggest planet in the solar system. He's got a whole ninety-five moons."
"But he is not a star," Max scowls.
Daniel smiles again, smaller. Kinder. "He gets to orbit a star. He gets to be the biggest planet, and orbit a fucking star, the best star in the universe. That's a pretty sweet deal if you ask me."
Max shakes his head and says, "You are unbelievable." He reaches over to grab Daniel's stupid face and kiss him, and promptly falls off the couch.
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loverhymeswith · 10 months
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Let's Be Alone Together || Part One
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x F!Reader
Summary: Ever since Tommy swore an oath to your dying husband, you've been a part of the Shelby family. Two years have passed and the two of you are still weighed down by grief but perhaps you can find solace in one another's company.
Word Count: 1.2K
Warnings: ptsd, mention of death, implied drug use, language, not beta-read
A/N: My first Tommy fic after embarking on a rewatch of Peaky Blinders. If there's interest in this, I have more chapters in mind!
Part Two
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“Where the fuck is Tommy?”
Arthur Shelby’s commanding voice cuts through the buzz of chatter. Gradually, the small crowd gathered in The Garrison’s snug falls silent. Not as quickly as they would have done for Arthur’s younger brother, but he has their attention at least.
Glaring at the occupants of the private side room, the eldest Shelby brother takes another breath. “I said, where the fuck is-”
“We heard you the first time, Arthur,” Pol pauses her chain-smoking to interject. Even with the cigarette now resting between her painted fingers, her burgundy lips are pursed, displeasure evident in the fine lines of her face. “Shouting louder isn’t going to make him magically appear. Let’s just get on with it.”
Sitting quietly in the background - quite literally, you are tucked away in the corner of the room - it strikes you that they should have noticed earlier. The presence - or lack thereof - of the head of the Shelby family rarely goes unobserved. After all, Tommy is usually the one to call for council. For him to be missing, something must be wrong.
All eyes are fixed on the centre of the room as a discussion breaks out between Arthur and John on the merits of waiting for Tommy, so it’s easy for you to slip away. You’ve often wondered why you’re invited to these family meetings in the first place. A sense of duty to your late husband, perhaps? Ensuring you don’t feel left out? Or maybe it’s just their way of keeping an eye on you. 
Two years have passed since Tommy swore an oath to your dying husband as they fought side by side in the Somme, and still the Shelbys treat you as one of their own. Pol, the family’s matriarch with a temper to match the size of her heart; sweet Ada who treats you like the older sister she never had; Arthur and John - a pair of brothers watching out for you as you navigate your way through widowhood. 
And then there’s Tommy. 
Tommy, who delivered the news of your husband’s death in person and held you while you broke down. Tommy, who put a roof over your head and food on your table when you could no longer afford the cost of rent. Tommy, who gave you a job and a purpose and a family.
You owe a lot to the Shelbys, but none more so than Tommy.
It’s likely your imagination, but sometimes it feels as if he acts differently around you. Like he’s more open with you than he is with the others. Maybe it’s the loss the two of you share. The grief that, given half a chance, might have swallowed you whole had Tommy not saved you. 
But who is there to save him?
The streets are quiet at such a late hour, the rain having long since driven everyone inside so there’s no one around to witness your hurried approach to Tommy’s front door. You rap firmly, but you’re not surprised by the lack of response. Instead, you slip the spare key from your coat pocket. The one given to you for emergencies. The door opens with a soft creak.
Climbing the stairs, your heart races. The sweet scent of smoke fills your lungs and you hesitate at the bedroom door, suddenly fearful of what you might find on the other side. Tommy's habit isn’t quite the secret he’d like to think it is, but he’s usually so careful not to let it affect his business.
Upon entering the room, your eyes immediately fall to the bed. Tommy is stretched out across the mattress, but this is no peaceful slumber. Impossibly long, dark lashes kiss his pale skin as sweat beads across his creased brow. The muscle in his jaw works as his scarred fingers clutch at the rumpled white sheets. 
“Tommy,” you murmur softly, once, twice, three times until his eyelids twitch.
A familiar yet unnerving pair of bright blue eyes fly open and his hard gaze instantly meets your own, his chapped lips parting as he rasps your name. “What are you doing here?” 
Fighting off the instinct that makes you want to reach for him, you hold your position a few steps away. “You’re late for Arthur’s family meeting. They’re all waiting for you.”
In a flash, he’s sitting up, curses roughly spilling from his mouth. The movement startles you, not least because he’s dressed in only his undershirt and slacks, the sweat-dampened fabric clinging to his skin. He seems vulnerable like this - without the armour of his sharp suits, so perfectly tailored to the hard lines of his body. 
Of course, you’ve noticed him. Despite your history, you’re far from immune to his striking appearance. Thomas Shelby has both the look and will of a Greek God. Beautiful and damned.
When Tommy’s attention lands on the pipe discarded on the bedside table, the briefest flicker of shame mars his fine features but it’s gone just as quickly. With a soft groan he begins to straighten himself.
“Do you need anything?” You ask, averting your gaze. Without waiting for an answer, you add, “I won’t tell anyone.”
You raise your head in time to see his lips twitch but there’s no smile for you. Not today. “What would I do without you?”
Your cheeks grow warm and you turn away to fetch a damp washcloth from the adjoining bathroom. The weight of Tommy’s gaze follows you across the room. “I should be the one thanking you,” you call over the sound of the running water.
Tommy waits until you’re by his side again before replying. “I promised him I would take care of you, didn’t I?”
“I think you’ve already gone above and beyond.”
A beat of silence passes between you, not awkward but not quite comfortable either. The scent of the smoke is slowly dispersing but a heaviness lingers in the air. Searching for something to say to offset the tension growing in your chest, you perch on the edge of the bed and angle your body towards him. 
“They haunt me, too,” you murmur, offering him the washcloth. “The nightmares.” You might not have witnessed it first hand like Tommy, but at your steadfast request he had painted an unflinching picture of your husband’s final moments. Enough to ensure you plenty of sleepless nights.
Tommy’s piercing eyes search your face and you’d kill for an insight into what he’s thinking. To know what’s going on behind that unwavering stare. Despite your outstretched hand, he’s making no move to take the cloth from your hands. 
Tentatively inching closer, you reach out and press the cloth to Tommy’s brow. His eyes shutter, feather-like lashes brushing his delicate cheekbones. Only when you’re certain he’s not going to push you away do you continue, smoothing the cloth along his temple and down to his jaw, carefully erasing the evidence of his troubles.
When his skin is clean you move to pull away, but Tommy places his warm hand over yours, keeping your hand and the cloth pressed against his skin. 
“Does it help?” you wonder, almost breathlessly as you nod to the discarded pipe. Time might be ticking as the family waits but you find yourself in no hurry to return to The Garrison. 
“I used to think so,” he tells you, firmly holding your gaze. “But now, I’m not so sure. Now…” He trails off. Turning his head ever so slightly, Tommy tilts his jaw until his lips brush against the tips of your fingers.
“And now?” you prompt hoarsely, as his warm breath fans your skin.
“Now, I think it might be better to feel something rather than nothing at all.”
Taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @crysxtal
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maybege · 1 year
Text
Big Dick Energy: The Sequel
Summary: An investigation takes you to a mall but it is Aaron Hotchner who takes you to a lingerie boutique.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader
Wordcount: 4.9k | Rating: E (18+ only!)
Warnings: explicit sexual content, dom!Hotch, sub!Reader, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, verbal degradation, (semi)public sex, cream pie, then some unexpected fluff
Rewatching Criminal Minds has reminded me of how much I actually thirst for Aaron Hotchner. Other than that, I have absolutely no excuse for this. Read, enjoy, and pretty please leave a comment and tell me what you thought because the possibilities with this dynamic are endless and I am very excited to share it with you! (Though I will need to think of a better title.)
masterlist | crossposted on AO3
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Looking for unsubs truly was a task that looked different every single time. Sometimes you had Penelope work her magic until you could pinpoint them, sometimes you were in direct contact due to a kidnapping situation. Other times you felt like you were playing spies on a big playground. Like right now.
The team had determined that the most likely spot for him to strike next was at a mall and with the entire sheriff’s office playing dress up, you were posing as unsuspecting shoppers on a calm Tuesday morning.
Hotch had decided you were all to split up into little groups. Reid and Prentiss had grabbed the bookshop as their assigned spot and you were sure Derek was somewhere. But before you could choose which area of the mall you wanted to call your domain, Hotch had instructed that you join him. Pretending to be a married couple. In a lingerie boutique.
For a moment, you thought you were hallucinating.
But sure enough, a few hours later, you and Hotch were browsing through the aisles of lace and tulle and mesh and the most delicate of undergarments you had ever looked at. And his presence did not make it any easier not to drift off into any daydreams.
You hadn’t really spoken after what happened on the plan and you weren’t sure if you were glad about it or not. It is like it had never happened. But it had happened. Because your jaw was still sore and you could still hear the way his voice dropped when he had hit the back of your throat. Or how gentle his fingers had been when it was all over. How he had taken care of you.
But by the time the plane had landed, he was back to his cool professional self and you were back to your pining, needy pile of infatuation you became when he was around you.
“I don’t think he is going to show up,” Emily’s voice sounded in your earpiece, “He would’ve hit by now. Maybe we should look at other possible targets before we waste too much time here?”
“I am sure pretty boy is holding his tongue about how time in a bookshop can never be wasted time,” Derek teased and you grinned. He was not wrong.
There was a hint of a smile on Hotch’s face and when his eyes met yours he looked much lighter than before. You watched him, waiting for his decision on the matter and he looked so damn calm, returning your gaze with so much ease. As if you did not affect him at all.
Which in turn made it all the more frustrating to feel your body react to him at the slightest stare. Your heartbeat started going faster, your breath heavier and everything felt so much more heightened when he was around.
How hopelessly did you want to crush on your boss? Your body’s answer, apparently, was a resounding: Yes.
But after the airplane incident, you had no more courage left. You had (kind of, if accidentally) initiated the first time with him. Now, you had to calm yourself with the thought that it was up to him to show you if he was interested.
A ringtone brought you out of your thoughts and you flinched. The young woman at the register picked up her cell phone, not even sparing another glance at you before she started off on what sounded like a very detailed retelling of her last weekend.
Hotch cleared his throat and your eyes fell on him, still waiting for his response to Prentiss’s suggestion.
“I agree,” he finally said, standing so close to you that it looked as if he was talking to you and you only, “We should regroup in a bit. I will see everyone at the office in two hours.”
“Sir, are you giving us a break?” not even the subpar sound quality of your earpiece could hide Garcia’s excitement.
“Yes,” he grinned at you, his hand reaching out and hovering over yours. Your breath caught in your heart because how could one man be so handsome? “I am giving you a break.”
The clicks of everyone disconnecting their microphone were only overshadowed by the sound of your heartbeat in your own ears. Hotch’s intense gaze was still on you and you could not shake the feeling that something big was about to happen.
“What’s your size?”
“What?”
“You have been staring at this piece for the better part of an hour,” he stated, “So I think you should try it on. And I think I should see you in it.”
Your mouth gaped open, not expecting such a blatant statement from your boss. Especially not one who was usually so tight-lipped on all things personal. You swallowed harshly, trying to find the right words that did not betray your eagerness but only ended up nodding at him.
You threw a look at the tags of the set he was holding, making an effort not to also stare at how big his hands were and subsequently wonder what his fingers would feel like inside of you.
Hoping he did not notice, you pressed your thighs together in an attempt to take care of the pulsing that was stronger than you would have liked it to be. But the way his gaze dropped let you know he certainly did notice. You swallowed again, “This, uh, this one should fit.”
Hotch nodded once, turning around while holding up the hanger.
“Excuse me, my wife would like to try –“
Before he had finished his sentence (you tried to ignore the strange skip your heart made when he had called you his wife), the cashier motioned somewhere to the back of the shop without even looking at you. Her phone was still pressed to her ear and her face was turned toward the glass front, probably observing the people milling about instead of the (in her mind) boring, business casual-wearing couple that tried to spice up their equally boring sex life.
If only she knew …
You followed the tall man to the little back room where a row of changing rooms was decorated with lush carpet and velvet drapery. If it did not look so plasticky cheap, you might’ve found it luxurious. Much like the showroom of the boutique, the rooms were completely abandoned and so quiet, the blaring mall music seemed even louder here.
Your eyes drifted to the corner of the curtained entrance.
“There are cameras here.”
“It’s not like we are going to do something inappropriate,” Hotch quipped as he strode to the end of the aisle, hanging the piece of lace into the last cubicle.
For some reason that disappointed you.
By the way he knowingly smirked at you, you knew that was exactly the kind of reaction he had wanted from you. And that gave you a little bit of hope.
You were still questioning what you were doing by the time you had reached him. Was this really happening? And what was this anyway? What was he planning?
Aaron tilted his head, his eyes mustering you up and down and just before you stepped inside, his hand landed on your shoulder. It was warm and heavy and you cursed yourself for how aware you were of him. How everything he did seemed to register in your brain as something of the utmost importance. Especially when he was touching you like it came naturally to him.
“You do not have to do this if you do not want to,” he said firmly, his eyes as serious as ever, “And if you ever want to stop, say Iceberg, understood? None of this will ever affect the way I see you at work.”
You nodded briefly, taking a moment to find your voice. “Understood … sir.”
The corners of his mouth quirked up and his hand smoothed from your shoulder to the very low of your back as you stepped into the small space. “Good girl, let me know when you are ready.”
Your pussy practically throbbed at his words but before you could do anything to embarrass you, he had left you alone, the curtain pulled between you.
When you were alone, you were highly aware that he could still hear you. Still, it afforded you a few precious moments to look at yourself in the mirror and realize that holy shit Aaron Hotchner wanted … something with you. And even if you were not sure what that specific something was, yet, you knew it would be more than worth it.
You rushed to get out of your silk dress and shoes, even going so far as to slip out of your underwear. If there was any time to be brazen it was now.
The piece Hotch had so rightly picked out was a mint green lacey two-piece with a kind of corset bra and high-waisted panties. It looked like the kind of thing one might see on a giant billboard or on a suggested Instagram post. It made you feel like you could have the kind of life where you surprised your (non-existent) boyfriend with some new lingerie or where said boyfriend would take you on a weekend trip to luxurious hotels with good food and even better sex.
Putting on the bra was easy enough but looking at that plastic sticker inside the bottoms made you hesitant. You really did not want to put them on without them having had at least one laundry cycle.
“You decent?”
Granted, he had given you enough time to get out of your clothes. But in your half-dressed predicament, you panicked and threw the panties back onto the hanger. There was no way you were going to try them on like this.
“Kinda,” you replied, feeling a little insecure but also figuring that whatever he wanted to do with you, you would not need panties for that anyway.
In the mirror, you could see the curtain moving and you turned around, facing him.
Aaron Hotchner was way too big in that little entrance of the small space. The dark colour of his suit bled into the dark velvet curtain and his hand looked way too big, the way he gripped that little piece of curtain. He was so close, you felt crowded but also like he was not close enough. Like you needed him closer still.
He did not say anything but just looked at you. His silence made you nervous and you shifted on your feet, crossing your arms in front of your chest and the apex of your thighs.
“Don’t.”
You let your arms fall again.
He remained silent but you watched as his dark eyes took you in. His mouth was in a straight line and you could spot the five-o’clock shadow setting in on his cheeks and jaw. You wondered what it would be like to kiss him like this. His brows were furrowed like he was displeased and for a moment you were afraid he was displeased by you. By your appearance.
Then he met your eyes.
“Do you have any idea how much self-control I invest every fucking day not to bend you over my desk and make you come seven ways till Sunday?”
Hearing him curse (You had made Aaron Hotchner curse, nobody was ever going to believe you.) was such a surprise, it took you a moment to register everything else he said.
“I – I am sorry?” you offered.
“Don’t be,” he murmured, taking a step towards you. The curtain fell closed behind him, leaving you two completely cut off from the world. “When I see you like this, it is more than worth it.”
Your breath caught in your throat. “What happened on the plane …”
“… is definitely something I would like to repeat,” he finished your thought, “If that wasn’t clear before.”
“I – I didn’t think you noticed me like this,” you confessed.
“You’re a good profiler,” his finger brushed over your cheek and he tilted his head, “You really did not notice?”
With wide eyes, you shook your head.
He smirked, “Maybe because you were too busy hiding how needy you were.”
He leant forward, then, his breath ghosting over your face and you were sure you had never been more nervous. The scent of his cologne was in your nose, his neck was so close, all you wanted to do was to reach out and loosen his tie.
And so you did.
“I don’t think I was that needy,” you tried to protest before pressing a kiss to his jaw. The stubble scratched your lips but that only added to the excitement in you. A low rumbling sound came from his chest and you gasped in surprise when he pulled you back, keeping his hand on the back of your neck so you had to look up at him.
His mouth brushed yours in a half-kiss and you could see a twinkle in his eyes. “Well, I’d like to think there were some obvious signs.”
He let his fingers wander down your cheek to your neck before they ghosted over the lace of the bra. Your nipples pebbled at his attention, the lace just adding to the pleasant sensation, and his mouth quirked up in that half-smile again. “Like when I could see your nipples get hard when I was with you in that elevator.”
“That – that was one time,” you protested weakly, arching your back so he could touch you more.
He hummed, “Maybe. But all I wanted to do was this.” His thumb brushed over your nipple again and again until all you could do was squirm against him, trying not to beg him to finally fuck you.
But even in your precarious situation, Aaron Hotchner did not make the impression of a hurried man. His eyes flicked from your chest to your face, completely mesmerized by the reaction he got out of you. And you could tell he liked it when he rolled your nipples between his fingers and your knees buckled when he pulled on them.
“Not to mention that time you sucked my cock on a plane,” he reminded you in a low voice and you could feel the heat rise into your cheeks, both from arousal and embarrassment, “I have dreamed of all the things I could do to you. Have you warm my cock in the office, suck my cock under the desk, hell, maybe keep you in bed all weekend long and make you come until you can only say my name …”
There was a very prominent bulge pressed against your hips, confirming these fantasies turned him on just as much as you and that only fuelled your fire. You let your head fall back, your eyes closed as you tried to imagine yourself just as he had described. Sitting in his lap in his office, feeling him inside you while he worked? That sounded like a dream.
Using the exposure of your skin, Hotch dropped his mouth to your neck, kissing and licking and sucking and just making you feel oh so good. It was so easy to just wrap your arms around his neck and pull yourself closer to him.
When he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot, you gasped out a moan, immediately trying to cut the sound off for fear of the chatty cashier hearing you.
His hands continued their exploration of your body and landed on your ass, effectively grinding you against his cock. Your core pulsed, everything in your body thrumming with desire. You knew how big he was, you knew what he looked like and how heavy he was. The sheer idea of feeling him inside you made you feel absolutely shameless.
Which meant there was still one thing you needed to address before there was no going back.
“There are still cameras here,” you whispered against him, panting when he rolled his hips against yours again. Gosh, he was big.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, just as quietly, and without hesitation, you nodded.
“Then I will take care of it.”
And that was all he needed to say.
Feeling encouraged, you let your hands wander and cupped him through the front of his pants. You could feel the weight and the size of him and a new wave of wetness rushed down your thighs.
Hotch groaned low in your ear, a sound that was even better when he made it just for you. His hand landed on yours, making you massage him through his clothes.
“You were so good for me on the plane,” he murmured in your ear, his other hand kneading the soft flesh of your ass, “Felt like a dream come true having you on your knees for me.”
You did not say anything. Both because you could not say anything and because you wanted to hear what he had to say. Hotch was always such a closed-off person, to hear him speak to you so tenderly and so openly … It made you feel like you needed to keep it close to your chest and cherish it.
“Always had the suspicion there was something bubbling under the surface of the good girl you were pretending to be,” he continued kissing his way down your neck until you could feel his teeth tugging on the bra strap. “But there is nothing quite like finding out you were a good girl all along … but only for me.”
He straightened up to his full height. You had always been impressed by how big of a man he really was (and how good he looked in a suit) but now it seemed even more intense.
Because Aaron Hotchner’s dark eyes were staring right into your soul when he asked, “And you are a good girl for me, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good girl.”
And then he kissed you.
It was passionate and hard and he dominated the kiss so easily, it just made you melt into him even more. His lips were soft and a contrast to the stubble you could feel on his chin. His teeth tugged on your bottom lip, then, and you gasped, following him until he let it fall away.
He chuckled, pressing another kiss to your neck, “Now put your hands against the wall so I can inspect that little pussy. I bet you’re already wet for me, hm?”
Never in your life had you moved so fast.
And he was right, f course. When his fingers rubbed over your cunt, you were embarrassingly wet already. But you could not care less. Not when you were about to be fucked by the one man you had been pining after for months.
You squeaked when a spank landed on your ass, “I’m gonna buy this and so much more just to see you wear it,” he growled, his fingers rubbing over your folds, seeking out your clit, “Just to fuck you in it.”
“Will you fuck me now?”
“That depends,” he murmured, pushing a single finger inside you, “Can you be quiet for me?”
You bit your lip so hard, you were half-expecting to have drops of blood running down your chin. The truth was you did not know but you knew you could try for him. You would try everything for him.
Your eager nod was rewarded with a kiss to your shoulder blade and his fingers went back to circling your clit before dipping inside you again. He hummed, clearly pleased at that and you arched into him, wanting to feel more of him.
The man behind your continued playing with you for what felt like an eternity. Your inner thighs were smeared with your slick, you were sure, and when he pressed his crotch against your ass, you could feel his hard-on distinctly.
“Fuck,” he hissed, adding a second finger as he thrust inside you, “Can you feel how your little pussy is gripping me? It is so so empty without someone filling it, isn’t it?”
“Feels so good, sir,” you whimpered, “Please don’t stop.”
“Oh, stopping is the last thing I am going to do,” he chuckled, his lips brushing over your lobe, “Don’t worry, I am going to take care of you. After all, what kind of man would I be if I didn’t take care of my little whore?”
His words echoed in your mind and settled in your core. He did not say it like an insult, he said it like an endearment. Like he was praising you. And you craved it. You wanted him to call you his, you wanted him to call you anything he wanted to as long as you would be his good girl. Because you know, you just knew, he would reward you for it.
“You really just need an older man to make you come on his cock, huh?” he asked you, his cold belt buckle digging into your ass. His fingers pulled out of you and you pushed your hips back, trying to keep him inside you for as long as you could, the loss of his touch making you whimper.
But then you could feel him undoing his zipper and the anticipation built in your core.
“Uh-huh,” you nodded, pushing out your ass, “’m your whore, sir.”
Your walls squeezed around nothing and, then, finally, you could feel his hand on your inner thigh, pushing your legs apart.
“Deep breath, it’s gonna be a big stretch,” he warned you, rubbing the tip of his cock over your folds. The tingling sensation spread from your core all throughout your body until you could feel it in the tips of your fingers.
Said deep breath get caught in your throat when he pushed inside you.
Hotch was big. You had known that already. But there was a difference between feeling him make your jaw go sore and feeling your walls stretch to accommodate him. He went with slow, small thrusts at first. The kind that allowed you to get used to his size and the kind that made you want him to go deeper and faster and just –
“More,” you did not recognize your own voice, “Please, sir, more.”
“You’re greedy,” he replied smoothly, his hands gripping your hips, “Begging for more as if it isn’t enough having your boss fuck you in public.”
You tried to hold back the whimper but did not quite succeed. But it was sheer impossible to remain quiet when he thrust inside you with control and such precision it made your toes curl. He was large and hit a spot you had not even known existed.
It was even better than you imagined. And you had imagined it a lot …
“C’mon smile into the camera for me,” he angled your head up, face to face with the lens of the camera in the corner. Your adrenaline spiked and despite wanting to pretend like it did not turn you on that someone could just see you absolutely getting wrecked, you could not control the way your walls clenched around him.
“Thought as much,” Hotch rumbled behind you, one hand coming around to your front and finding your clit again, “Got myself the perfect little cock slut.”
“’m gonna come,” you gasped when he tapped your clit, “Sir, please, I –“
“Please what?” he mocked you, his hips snapping against yours, “Don’t forget your manners or I’ll have to punish you.”
The thought of him punishing you almost pushed you over the edge but Aaron Hotchner was right. You were a good girl …
“Please, sir,” you gasped, “Please let me come. PleasepleasepleaseIwannacome –”
He quickened his pace, his cock driving into you again and again while his fingers circled your clit. His lips pressed against the spot under your ear and you pushed back against him, trying to meet his thrusts, trying to get closer to him.
“You can come,” he whispered, his big hand coming up to cup your jaw, “You can come on my cock, right now.”
“You too,” you gasped, trying everything to hold on to that feeling that was just out of reach, just beyond that cliff that you were hurling towards, “You come, too, sir, please, in-inside me.”
“Fuck,” he cursed behind you, his hips stuttering, “You really want that? Want me to fill you up with my come? Think that would tide you over for a while until I can have you sitting on my cock again?”
“Uh huh,” you nodded eagerly, your fingertips flexing against the wall, barely listening to a word he was saying because it only took a couple more thrusts until you came around him.
Hotch swallowed your moan with a kiss and you gripped onto his forearms, anything to keep you standing and somewhat lucid. Everything was a blur and your body felt like it was convulsing and relaxing at the same time. You had never come so hard in your life, you hardly even noticed when he groaned into your ear, his hips stilling against yours as he filled you up. Just like he had promised.
Your heart beat so fast in your chest, you could hear it in your ears and you were pretty sure Hotch could hear it too. But he did not comment on it. Instead, his hand went from your jaw to your chest, softly grazing over the green lace.
“Good fucking girl,” he rumbled, “Knew you would be such a good girl for me and only me.”
Hotch kissed you again, softer this time, and you allowed yourself to properly breathe. “You okay?” he asked you quietly, his hands smoothing over your hips, “Was I too rough?”
You shook your head. “No, it’s just … it’s a lot,” you whispered, closing your eyes to try and slow your breathing, “And – and we need to be back at the station soon.”
“That we do,” he agreed and carefully pulled out of you. You winced at the sensation, feeling his come dripping down your thighs almost immediately. Before you could even worry about leaving any evidence on the carpet, you heard some rustling and then a soft handkerchief was at the mess between your legs, cleaning you up.
You turned your head, finding Hotch kneeling behind you with that furrow between his brows again.
“You look angry a lot.”
You did not know where your words had come from but hell, you might as well run with it now.
The dark-haired man looked up at you, looking unusually amused. “I suppose it might look like that to some.”
When he pulled away and you felt somewhat taken care of, you turned around and grabbed your clothes. Hotch remained standing there with you, his
“Then what is it, really?” you asked him as you slipped your dress over your head. The fabric covered your vision and when you could see again, Aaron was standing again, looking at you with a genuine smile and a twinkle in his eyes.
Damn him for being so handsome.
“I am focused,” he replied, his hand landing on your hip to support you as you slipped back into your shoes. Your hand landed on his forearm, his hand gripping your elbow, keeping you steady.
“Focused on what?”
“On you.”
Your hand froze on his arm. “Oh.”
Suddenly, he was closer again. Standing chest to chest, you could not help but look at his mouth because it was right there and his lips looked so soft and what if this was the moment? What if you could kiss him again and –
“Yeah,” he echoed, his nose brushing against yours, “Oh.”
His mouth ghosted over yours and you closed the distance, kissing him just as softly as he had done before. He did not wait to reciprocate and with his hand still under your elbow, he pulled you flush against him.
He opened his mouth but in a cruel twist of fate, his phone rang and he pulled away. An annoyed exhale left him and you could feel the disappointment when he picked it up. “What’s up Morgan?” he asked, his eyes still on you. his thumb brushed back and forth on your hip and you smiled, feeling elated and excited and so … so …
“Yeah, we’re on our way,” he said sharply, “I thought of getting us some lunch. Have the others text me their order and I will pick it up.”
And with that, he ended the call.
“Picking up lunch, huh?” you teased him, “How very generous of you, Agent Hotchner.”
“What can I say,” he smiled, opening the curtain for you, “I am in an exceptionally good mood today.”
*
When you returned to the main room of the boutique, the woman was still talking on the phone, not paying any mind to you. Relief filled you at the realization that she really had not noticed. Thank goodness because while it was the experience of a lifetime, you would have surely died of embarrassment.
Hotch’s hand burned at the low of your back but this time it did not cause any anxiety. This time it felt like both of you knew it belonged there.
He led you to the register, the woman only interrupting her conversation long enough to glance at both of you, looking very unimpressed.
“My name is Agent Hotchner, FBI,” he said, showing his badge, “We are on an active investigation. I am afraid I need to confiscate your security footage from the last 12 hours.”
“Also,” he added, putting the two-piece on the counter, “We would like to purchase this.”
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pkshenanigans · 2 years
Text
The S.I.M.P Gene
Pairing: Saiki Kusuo x Reader
Warning(s): Actually inheriting a dominant trait from his father righsldnsocsesssghhh~
A/N: Rewatching Saiki Kusuo with my sister and I don’t care about the risks, Kusuke is my husband. But this ain’t bout him.
Summary: Saiki is leagues away from resembling his father in any way, shape or form...Except...
——-
What a pain.
Of all the things to inherit from his father, why this? And why now?
He was having a hard enough time dealing with his classmates, you mean to tell me he had to worry about you, too?
No that he has any issue with you.
On the contrary, you were wonderful. Amazing, in fact.
He likes you.
And therein lies the problem.
Kusuo is very level-headed and he trusts his common sense.
Even though the world around him is… well… Not as level-headed and well-versed in the ways of common sense. 😅
So the realization that he is capable of having this… this unrestrained affection for you blindsided him.
Why is he doing your homework for you today when he is a firm believer in people taking responsibility for their own mistakes?! Oh well, it’s just this once.
He has no choice but to listen to other people’s problems, but why is he actively trying to help you with yours even though it’s going to be more trouble then he’s willing to deal with?! Oh well, it’s just this once. (It’s not)
Sigh. He can’t deny it. He likes you a little too much.
He likes how you aren’t afraid to say what’s on your mind, but at the same time you speak sense.
He likes that you have a good head on your shoulders. Every now and again you can’t help yourself with the Saiki gang, but the fact he can sometimes avoid being dragged into his classmates’ messes just by leaving with you whenever you don’t have time for it is quite refreshing.
He could actually trust you with knowing about his powers because you had a little secret of your own!
No, you weren’t a psychic too.
You had your own powers to keep under wraps.
He likes your laugh, unrestrained and full of feeling. It gets really embarrassing when you do it in public but when it’s just you and him, it’s fine if you let it rip!
——-
Can we talk about how he enjoys being seen with you by Teruhashi way more than he should?
Trying to ask him out in front of you as to intimidate and overshadow you, but at the same time she can’t let it look like a date because of appearances~
Kusuo is just done, and he’s not cool with Teruhashi snuffing you like that.
But you don’t even flinch. You were scared of no-one, and you better believe Saiki filled you in on what she was really like so you knew just how to deal with her.
“Hi Teruhashi, L/n here!” You wave your arm in a wide arc in front of Saiki, making your presence known.
“Given how nice you usually are, I’m sure you didn’t mean to pretend like I wasn’t here-“
‘She definitely did.’
‘Oh, I know.’
You slide over to Saiki, arms touching at the elbows. “-but Saiki’s taking me out this weekend…”
“Oh, r-really? If you don’t mind me asking, where are you going?”
At this, you waved her off. This girl really had it bad for Kusuo. Well, too bad, your plans come first. “It’s a secret~”
It drove PK’s perfect pretty girl nuts!
‘Seriously?! That girl’s been here a whole three months, there’s no way she hasn’t done some exploring on her own! She must be using her ‘new girl’ status to get close to Saiki! Saikiiiiii!!! You CAN’T think she’s prettier and more perfect than me, you just CAN’T!’
Kusuo didn’t know if he could say you were perfect, but he could say without hesitation he preferred looking at you over her. Also, considering that he liked you… a lot…
And he didn’t like Teruhashi… at all…
The comparison just couldn’t be made. Not without making a permanent enemy out of every man in the universe.
He was relieved that he didn’t have to go on another date with Teruhashi. He knew you were only baiting her because she had been rude, but he couldn’t ignore the pleasant humming his heart was doing when you revealed that you were also defending your plans together because you really wanted to spend time with him.
“Sorry, I may have made it seem like more than it was…”
‘No complaints here. I’d rather not go anywhere with her.’
——-
While he was alone one day, investigating these… *gulp* feelings… he ended up getting an unexpected unwanted phone call from his older brother.
At first, he was just gonna let the phone ring. He had more important things to worry about and his super villain brother was not one of them.
But Kusuo knew Kusuke wasn’t going to be snuffed that easily. He’d call the house phone next and his mother would make him talk to him or worse, he would show up in person.
He was better off taking this call and getting on with life.
And baybee! Somehow. Someway.
Kusuke called asking about you. 💀
Like, how sway? Kusuo didn’t say a thing about you, made certain not to alert his parents of your existence but he still found out!
“Silly, did you forget that I see everything? You’re slipping~”
Oh right. His brother spies on him whenever the mood strikes him.
Ugh. Pain.
Having his brother in his business was thee last thing he needed right now. But he may as well get a second opinion. So he spills a teensy bit of tea.
He admits his strong attraction to you, despite the two of you being just friends, and it’s not even in the way most high school boys are attracted to girls.
He suspects that, despite his better judgment, he might be letting you have your way a little too often, even when it doesn’t benefit him in the least to indulge you. To be fair, the amount wouldn’t look like much from a normal person’s perspective.
It’s just a huh-yuuuuge leap for Kusuo personally.
He doesn’t even pursue relationships, but you don’t push him to be one way or the other and it makes him want to reconsider.
And Kusuke, classic evil Kusuke, had to pipe up and say the worst thing ever.
“The answer is very simple, little bro. You’ve inherited dad’s simp gene, and the trait is surfacing for this L/n girl.”
……..The AUDACITY!
Kusuo hung up right in Kusuke’s face. He should have known better than to expect anything helpful from him. Not about this…
A simp, huh?
Laughable.
The idea was as impossible as it was ridiculous. Saiki Kusuo was many things. A simp he was not. He knew better than that.
And yet… The more he thought about it, the more similarities he found between the way his father talked about his mother and the way he felt about you.
He was not a simp, but every day spent with you, he felt as if he were slowly creeping towards something scarily close….
Ugh. NO!!!!
While most boys wanted to be just like their fathers, the thought that Kusuo actually might have inherited something, anything from his father, wasn’t a pleasant one.
And this was the worst possible trait he could have gotten. Well. Aside from the freaky skill of polishing $300 leather with one’s tongue but we’re not getting into that.
For a week straight Kusuo gave his father the cold shoulder. Every attempt at any father-son bonding was rebuffed and he refused to help him with his powers.
“I don’t get it Kusuo, why are you being like this! You’re even more surly and cold-hearted than usual!”
‘You cursed me with your incurable disease. I’ll never forgive you.’
“What are you talking about?!”
It took his mother, his grandmother, his friend group AND you to patch the bridge between the two of them.
Oh well, he’ll figure out how to deal with his feelings.
He’s Saiki Kusuo. Making the most messes was his unfortunate specialty.
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firstkanaphans · 7 months
Text
Is Only Friends Slut-Shaming Boston?
I’m going to be real honest here. When this idea first started making the rounds, I just thought it was a bad take, but then so many people were saying it that I started to wonder if I had missed something. So, I rewatched the finale and now can confidently say…it’s a bad take.
Do I think the narrative is punishing Boston? Abso-fucking-lutely! But is it because he’s a slut? No, of course not. (All of these assholes are sluts!) Boston is being punished because he slept with his best friend’s boyfriend. And—hot take—but I don’t think that’s an unfair reason for the narrative to punish someone. Even sluts need to have boundaries sometimes. 
The first major complaint I’ve seen is that the narrative is slut-shaming Boston by making him the only character who ends up alone (which is categorically untrue because Nick also ends up alone, but that is neither here nor there.) This story only had two possible endings: either Boston ended up alone or he ended up with Nick. And I think, if given the choice, this is the ending Boston would have chosen for himself. This isn’t a sad ending for him. He’s unhappy being in a monogamous relationship. This is what he wants. 
This is also just a ridiculous argument altogether because if you think Only Friends is slut-shaming its characters, the last thing you should want is for one of your sluts to suddenly decide not to be a slut because of the healing power of love. I would argue that forcing a polyamorous man into a monogamous relationship would be even more sex negative than what happened in canon. 
And for those saying polyamory should have been considered, I would just like to remind you that there are two people in Boston and Nick’s relationship and they both deserve a say. That is, very literally, what ethical non-monogamy is. It has to be consensual. 
From day one, Nick has wanted to be in a monogamous relationship with Boston. That’s what their arc is all about. And when they finally get together in episode eleven, Boston makes it explicitly clear that monogamy is one of the terms he’s offering. So while I think it’s perfectly valid for Boston to want a polyamorous relationship, I don’t think it’s fair to expect Nick to just accept that when he was promised differently. The central conflict here is not Boston’s promiscuousness. It’s that Nick wants a monogamous relationship and Boston doesn’t. And that’s okay! Boston is free to live his “fun and sassy” life as Nick calls it (with no judgment whatsoever), but Nick is also free to live his. 
People have been dragging Sand for telling Nick not to “lower his bar” for Boston, insinuating that this is slut-shaming language, but I actually think the conversation between him and Nick perfectly illustrates why this whole situation with Boston is not slut-shaming. Sand spells it out clearly: “People have different ideas about this,” i.e. “You and Boston have different ideas about this. He wants one thing, you want another. Don’t change for him.” He never suggests that Boston’s way of living is bad, he is simply saying that it’s not compatible with Nick’s.
The only argument I have heard in favor of Only Friends slut-shaming its characters that I feel holds any water is that Boston never received a proper apology for any of the horrible things that were done to him—but then again, neither did Top. Now this could certainly be because Top is a slut, too, and therefore doesn't deserve apologies, but I think it’s far more likely that the directors were simply running out of available screen time. 
Boston ends the series having re-kindled his friendship with Ray and Chuem. He has moved to New York to live out his dream. He is single—which is what he wants. I don’t think this is a bad ending for him.  Boston’s biggest slut-shamer has always been Mew and him sleeping with Top only reinforced that idea. If you think the narrative is slut-shaming Boston, I think you’re only seeing things from Mew’s perspective. Mew is slut-shaming Boston. Mew is punishing Boston. The narrative remains neutral.
TL;DR: No. Boston is a slut and he is being shamed, but the two are unrelated.
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