#sorry if this ends up being wrong but this is really making it look like there's some lost max mascot suit out there
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𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔 (rewritten og sturnphilia fic)
𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑶𝑳𝑶 𝑿 𝑰𝑵𝑵𝑶𝑪𝑬𝑵𝑻!𝑭𝑬𝑴 𝑶𝑪
𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒; pet names, non established relationship, highschool au, fingering, praising, soft sex elements if you squint
Lily grew up a very sheltered kid. Her parents tried to keep her away from a lot of stuff. Her parents kept her home school all the way up until senior year. Her parents made the decision to let her finally go to public school for her very last year of high school to have a somewhat high school experience. Due to her being sheltered she was also extremely shy. She didn’t really have any intentions on making friends or being social in public school. But of course she did end up befriending one boy. Matt Sturniolo. One of the only other (non weird..) shy kid in her grade. Her science teacher made the bright decision to pair them up for the beginning year project and now at the end of senior year they have been close ever since.
They were each other's person. Obviously, Matt wasn’t as innocent like Lily. They had a lot in common but he definitely wasn’t anywhere as near as sheltered as she was.
Today they were at Lily’s house watching a movie. A Friday tradition they had been doing ever since they first became friends. They would go to each other's house every friday and have a movie night. Each week they’d take turns picking a new movie to watch. Majority of the time they went to Lily’s house since Lily’s parents always worked a late shift and when they went over to Matt’s his triplet brothers would find a way to annoy them.
They decided on watching some movie Matt wanted to watch. A movie Lily had already forgotten the name of.
Neither of them had seen this movie yet so the next scene shocked them both.
A sex scene with the two main characters was plastered on the 40 inch screen. Matt was a lot more calm because he was used to it. A sex scene in a movie was normal for him. But Lily was a blushing mess. Of course, Lily knew what sex was. She was innocent but wasn't stupid. But, she had never thought of anything sexual before let alone watched porn or any sex scenes like this. So this was very new to her to say the least.
It made her face heat up, her heart beat. She squeezed her thighs together, feeling a weird yet tingling feeling. Lily had never felt this way before. She was extremely confused, scared, and a bit excited at this new feeling.
Obviously since she had no idea what was going on with her or her body she tried hiding her movements and body language from Matt.
All of a sudden the scene began to get more intense. The main characters going at it a lot rougher now.
Lily was trying to hide it but it was getting really hard. She felt her panties begin to get wet. Anxiety filling her body. What is happening to me? Is all she could think. Continuing to squeeze her thighs even more a small whimper leaving her lips.
Matt began to notice Lily's actions. He looked over at Lily confused, "You alright?" he asked her. The room was dim, he could see her bright red cheeks, her shocked face, her body movements. "I-i..uhm." she couldn't form a word. she didn't know what to say. Her breath was shaky,
Matt started to get the hint. The hint that she was .. turned on?
He chuckled at her. "God I didn't know you got turned on by this stuff." he confronted with a scoff. "WWhat are you talking about?" Lily stuttered. Matts eyes went wide. "Do you even know what that means?" he asked the girl. She nodded her head no.
Matt's eyes go even wider. "Shit… I knew you were, like, innocent and all but i didn't know you were that innocent." Lily’s face began to get more red. She was so embarrassed. She felt so disgusted in herself. "i'm sorry.." she apologized. Looking down at her shaky legs, embarrassed to look Matt in the eyes.
Matt started to feel bad. He didn’t mean to embarrass her. "Why are you apologizing?" he asked her. She looked back up at him, "there's something wrong with me, isn't there?" She had pure innocence in her brown eyes.
Matt looked at her with a sympathetic smile, "No baby, nothing wrong with you, that's normal." he assured her. She began to smile at the little pet name he gave her. "Well then how do i... uhm.. fix it?" she asked him. "Fix what?" "This fuzzy feeling inside me?"
Matt’s face was covered in blush. "Uhm, have you ever, like, gotten off?" he asked. His face is heating up every second. The silence never felt so loud in these walls. She nodded her head no. "Oh well u-uh. I mean I could help you but like I don't wanna make this weird.." he suggested to her. She rested her hand on his. "I promise it won’t, just help me Matt, whatever you have to do."
Matt placed his hands on the rim of her mini skirt. "May I take this off?" he began suddenly. she nodded. He took her little white skirt off, placing it on the ground. "Here lay back." he told her, motioning her to lay on her back. She cooperated, leaning back. "M-may i take this off as well?" he asked shyly, mentioning her pink underwear. "Mmhm." she allowed him. He took her panties off slowly. Revealing all of her. He laid her panties with her skirt on the ground.
"Are you sure you want this?" he asked her one more time. Making sure he wasn’t pressuring her into anything. She rolled her eyes. "Yes Matt, just please- do anything." she breathed out- beginning to get more sassier. Matt took his slim fingers and placed them onto her core. His cold fingers making her shiver a bit.
He began to slide his fingers up and down pink slits. She bit her lips, not wanting to make a sound.
"Does this feel nice princess?" he asked her. "Y-Yea." she moaned out. He then slipped one finger inside her, making her gasp a little. "Want me to keep going?" she looked down at him and nodded. He then slipped a second finger in, making her whimper under him. He began to thrust his slim fingers inside her.
She soo became a moaning mess. "Mmgh matty feels so so good." she praised him. He smirked, going faster. Secretly slipping in a third finger. She yelped. Matt was going at an extremely fast pace, making the girl under him a mess. Her eyes were rolled back and she was holding onto the couch. Soon later her white cum coded Matt’s fingers, making her scream one last time. Her fingers gripping the couch and making her knuckles go pale."F-fuck.." she said under her breath. She looked down at Matt, seeing the mess she made. "Og my god i'm so sorry-" as she began to apologize.
Matt took his tongue and swiped it across her slits, making her shiver. "Why apologize, you taste so good?" he took his fingers out of her and placed them on her lips. "Taste." he said in a low raspy voice. She took his fingers and licked them clean.
-
TAGLIST (ask to be added or unadded!!) : @sturnioloshacker @e1ias3 @gwenlore @iloveneilperry
#𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀 (𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍)#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolos#the sturniolo triplets
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✧˖ ?!— MEMORIES W. BF! JUNGKOOK
—🐟 ‧₊˚ — : " you are so mean !! "
summary. just a collection of fluffy (& suggestive) moments that could've been a whole fic... but didn't become one!
notes. *insert tiktok audio: did you miss us? cause we missed you* i've been wanting to write quite often since me taking a break but the weeks have been TOUGH- regardless i did rly miss all of you ;( hope you enjoy this lil bf! bf! bf! jungkook drabble headcanon-ish thing (?) as a makeup gift for me being gone!!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
warnings/includes. the most teeth-rotting boyfriend kook there is rly, two very very in love individuals!!, suggestive (making out & hickeys mentioned), drunk
✧˖ #001. A WISH 4 TATS & ALCOHOL = A MESS.
"this is a horrible idea," you mumbeled as you both stumbeled into another darkly light street, "i got this," jungkook hummed, carefully examining the road to the nearest tattoo shop google maps suggested on his phone.... which was upside down.
"jung- that's not right," shaking your head, turning his phone around, his mouth opening and closing again, "oh"
"you're so smart!" he squeezed your cheeks together, creating one big large pout, placing a quick peek right after which of course turned into the both of you manically making out, leaning back onto the graffiti-filled dirty street wall, the taste of alcohol blatantly evident.
whenever a person would walk by, jungkook would momentarily stop (still holding your face) but turning around and mouthing a quick 'sorry', doing a big ass bow to highlight his apologies- the person would just walk continue walking faster to get out of this alley (and the both of you)
you'd give him a tiny slap on the head murmuring something about him being stupid which he'd dramatically pout about (and probably kiss you to prove you 'wrong' which was just an non-sensical excuse really).
safe to say you woke up the next days with two super cheesy tattoos grazing both of your thighs and a whole lotta hickeys!
✧˖ #002. MAKE IT LIKE UR BIRTHDAY EVERYDAY!
work was shit literally. the days were tough to the point where the only thing you were looking forward to at the end of the day was seeing jungkook.
ever since your work has been loading you with more & more labour, you could tell he always tried to show up earlier than you, it was in his best efforts to greet the exhausted you, open the door with the widest smile and instantly tightly hug you.
today was no different- at least you thought, in fact it turned out that you completly forgot about your own birthday, leading to you being even more surprised when you walked in directly to an even more wider-smiling jungkook then the usual, holding about five pink ballons.
a rather... messy cake delicately placed on the desk, light-up candles grazing the very very colorful dessert, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!" he yelled out, the large grin never making it's way off his face.
"you're so old," he babbeled jokingly, the second he saw your watery eyes immediately embracing you, mumbling something about 'i didn't mean the old-thing anyway' which made you smile again.
so the night ended with the both of you eating the surpisingly well-turned-out cake together as he listened to you rant about how shitty your boss and work place was, nodding along and grinning at some of your comments.
something in his gaze was so loving and always attentive- certaintly this was one of the best birthdays you had.
✧˖ #003. YOU ARE SO MEAN!
"one more beer and i might just say you are developing an alcohol addiction," you perclaimed, taking the glass out of jungkooks hands (that were dramatically holding on for dear life) with a little bit of force, in response getting a loud noise of dissapproval from his direction.
he rested his head on the desk, eyes still open, examining you carefully, "don't say that!"
"oh i will," you bopped his nose sarcastically, your tone more sassy than serious, taking a sip of the beer that you now declared yours.
jungkooks face disappeared into his arms as fast as it was visable in the first place, a whiny mumble being heared through the hair that was in your view: "you're so mean"
you could firmly hear the pout in his voice which made you smile when you responded: "and you are very tired, let's get you to sleep"
leaving the beer on the kitchen table, you used your whole power to lift the grown man of the chair (who was now just as desperately like before fighting back), whines and tiny groans being heard through out the kitchen as you lead him to the bathroom.
"i didn't mean the mean thing by the way," he muttered almost inaudibly while brushing his teeth slowly, "no, i know" you ruffeled through his hair, wrapping your arm around his waist, the both of you looking into the mirror at the same time, the reflection making you both giggle.
"i'm never drinking with you again!"
"you don't mean that"
#bts ff#bts fanfic#bts fic#bts imagines#bts x you#bts x reader#jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook fanfic#kpop fluff#bts imagine#kpop ff#kpop fanfic#jungkook fic#jungkook fluff#bts fluff#bts headcanons#jungkook headcanons
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Hello my fellow Criminal Minds fan! 😊
May I please request headcanons for Spencer falling for a female agent who’s cynical about love and relationships due to being hurt in the past?
a/n: thank you sm for the request! i'd be happy to write this for you! :-)
Falling in Love Again | Spencer Reid Headcannons
pairing: spencer reid x f!reader
content: mentions of reader having been cheated on in the past, uhhhh that's really it haha
word count: 1,478 (sorry she's so long)
Spencer Reid had always been excited about falling in love, the thought of being so close to another person- to share so much with someone was such a wonderful thing to him.
Especially after watching his mom and dad growing up, and the way his father treated her-Spencer was dead set on never becoming anything like him, he looked forward to treating a woman right and spending the rest of his life with her.
But, for as excited as he was he was probably 20 times more nervous about the whole falling in love thing.
So when you came around, and he started to experience that warm, creeping feeling in his chest- he felt a little bit like his world was going to end.
Spencer had never made a move on anyone before, sure he did make out with Lila Archer that one time but he didn't exactly initiate it.
Spencer decided just to channel all of his romantic interest in becoming friends with you, at least he got to spend time with you, that's what really mattered to him. Maybe one day it would turn into something more.
Well.. he hoped until he couldn't help but overhear...
"I went on my first date in months last night, and all this guy did was talk about himself the entire time- didn't let me get a word out, I mean, can you believe it?" Emily says, exasperated
You look up at her as she stands in front of your desk, "Oh, trust me Emily, I can believe it." You shake your head
"I mean," She throws her hands up, "What is it with men? What's wrong with them."
"Everything," You smirk, "They're men. I can't remember I had a good experience with one of them- never maybe?" You laugh. "I've given up on dating."
Your words sunk into Spencer's brain, leaving him with a heavy feeling all around he felt awful- not just about the fact that his chances with you seemed to reduce to zero right there in that moment, but because of how upset you seemed under your sarcastic exterior, he could tell you'd really been hurt before.
A few weeks later you're out for drinks with Emily, Penelope, Morgan, Spencer, and JJ. Amidst the loud, drunken conversations and music at the bar- you can hear the faint chiming sounds of your ring tone, Who would be calling this late?
As you take your phone from your pocket, your stomach drops when you see the number flashing on the screen. The mere sight of those 10 digits making you want to throw your phone to the ground and stomp on it until nothing remains.
"Ooooh, who's that calling." Morgan smirks
You look him dead in the eyes and respond flatly, "My ex."
Morgan's smile doesn't fade instead his smirk seems to deepen, "You two got a little thang goin on?"
"No," You shove your phone back in your pocket, "More like he's trying to get back in my pants after cheating on me- twice."
"Ooh!" Morgan responds, wincing, "So he's a dog."
"A pig is more like it." You scoff, "Who does he think he is. I can't even imagine giving my time to another man again, and even if I could- what makes him so confident I'd give him the time of day."
That familiar heavy pain hits Spencer again.
He's staring at you, and it's like the rest of the bar doesn't even exist. Only you, as you bite your lip, trying to hide any emotion in your face.
Spencer has become good at reading your emotions, maybe it's because he spends so much time with you- maybe it's because of how often he finds himself staring at your face. As much as you try to seem nonchalant, he could tell how upset you are.
Spencer would spend more time than he wanted to admit fantasizing about treating you well, about giving you the love you never seemed to have.
Every time you made a snarky comment about love, or how men had treated you in the past Spencer would want so desperately bad to just tell you about how well he would treat you, how he would never ever hurt you, how he would spend his entire life taking care of you.
The words were practically scratching up his throat, begging to be let out. But still, he would just swallow them down, and give you a sympathetic look, he couldn't muster up being able to do anything more.
At the very least, Spencer's plan of becoming friends with you was working.
The two of you would become very good friends.
Spencer would learn everything he could about you, he would want to know as much as possible.
Not in a weird creepy way- but in a he just thinks you're so amazing he can't get enough of you sort of way.
Every time you and Spencer hung out he wouldn't be able to ignore that nagging feeling, the thought of putting an arm around you and pulling you close, of holding your hand in his, or placing a delicate kiss on your cheek.
The thoughts would eat away at Spencer, and he would only fall more, and more in love with you.
Still, he would lose more hope every time you divulged information about your prior encounters with love. He couldn't blame you for feeling so cynical it, not after what you'd been through.
Spencer would think about his mom, about all the wives Rossi had been through, about Hotch and Hailey, about you- he would wonder why love had to be so painful for some people. He was sure he would never hurt somebody he loved.
One day you're over Spencer's apartment, watching a rom-com, and you make a snide remark, "Oh, real love isn't like that." You scoff and roll your eyes.
Spencer doesn't know what it is, but something in him makes him respond, "It could be." He says meekly
You look up at him, caught off guard at his disagreement, "Hm?" you hum
Spencer wasn't able to take it any more, he hated hearing your cynical nature. He would need you to know how you deserved the entire world.
"Love- It can be like the movies." He affirms his stance.
"Not in my experience."
"I would give you love like that." Spencer would tremble as he makes his confession, so unsure of what would happen next.
He would be terrified of your reaction, scared he was about to mess everything up, ruin any future the two of you had together, and even worse, lose your friendship.
"W-what do you mean, Spence."
"I mean, you always talk about how you've been hurt before, and it just-" He takes a deep breath in, contemplating what he's going to say next, "I love you, y/n," He looks down at his lap, then back up at you, "I would never hurt you."
Despite the obvious passion in Spencer's voice, you were still hesitant about it, but everything inside of you told you to give Spencer a chance.
Spencer would insist on taking things slow, you were his first real relationship and he wouldn't want to rush things, for both his and yours sake. He wouldn't pressure you to put a label on things, or even say you're "dating"- those would come on your own time.
Spencer was determined to make you believe in love again, and he would do everything in his power to make sure you knew without a doubt how he felt about you.
Spencer would often get to work before you to surprise you with coffee and a breakfast sandwich, or a donut on your desk in the mornings.
He would insist on having a date night at least once a week, even if the two of you were on a case, ordering room service or finding a local pizza restaurant way late at night was sufficient, as long as the two of you got to spend time together.
Spencer would be hesitant about PDA or really moving too quickly into being too affectionate, still, he would frequently hold your hand, squeezing it tight when he could tell you were stressed or upset- either by a case or by life in general, he just wanted to give you that extra reassurance that he was there for you.
Spencer would really put the work in, he'd exert more effort than you had ever seen from any past relationship into even the tiniest things.
Spencer wouldn't mind though, anything he could do to reassure you that he loves and cares about you, he would do it.
Every little act of love and gratitude would be worth it to him.
He would savor and cherish every hug, every shared glance, every peck on the forehead, on the cheek, on the lips.
It was all worth it to him, every second of it- all he wanted to do was make you smile, to make you fall in love again.
#spencer reid#spencer reid headcannons#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n
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(i feel like i need to let you guys know that I HAVE to listen to the song on repeat 4 a few times to really get me going for this fic 😔)
also i know the ending kinda sucks Im SORRY
Into You ✦
Sam had texted you to dress nicely since he was taking you to a nice restaurant. It's so sweet of him to do this even though you forced him out of your life for 6 years.
Luckily, you had packed a few nice dresses in case something special came up. This was definitely something special. The color of the dress was plain but had a cute pattern all over it. You did your hair in whatever way you thought looked the best and added a few other details like rings, earrings, and a necklace after finishing your makeup.
To top it all off, you sprayed your favorite perfume, and you were done getting ready. You had a couple of minutes to wait until Sam came by to pick you up. You spent that short amount of time talking pictures and becoming a little nervous about how this is gonna go.
Your mom came knocking at your door, smiling. “He’s here,” She entered, admiring how beautiful her little girl looked. “You look so gorgeous, my love.” A tear nearly fell from her eye. You smile softly to her and give her a gentle hug. “Thank you, mom. I'll see you later.”
You went outside to find Sam with a bouquet of flowers. “Looks like someone really outdid herself on the whole look, huh?” He huffed a chuckle, totally checking you out. “You're the one who told me to dress nice.” You say with a twirl while walking over to him so he could see the whole outfit.
“Well, you listened.” Sam smiled down at you and passed over the flowers. “Oh, Sam. I love th—”, “ah-ah. they're for your mom.” He cut you off, making you look to the side, then back to him with confusion. “Um, what?” You asked before he shook his head with a laugh. “Just messin’ with you, n/n.” Oh, so you leave for a few years and all of a sudden he thinks hes a comedian..
“Come on, let's go.” He reached his arm around you, leading to his car. This is so weird.. Sam has never been the type to be so touchy, talkative, or confident. He really was like a new person.
The car ride was anything but quiet and awkward. He started all the conversations, as well as kept them going. “A year after you left, I realized how big of a loser I was. Weird, too.” He cringed at the memory of how he used to be. “I was so pale, too. I genuinely looked so unwell. So, I decided to go out more to get tanned.”
He had worked in construction for a while so he could have more color to his skin, and it worked really well. He also told you about how he started working out to not be scrawny. The brown hair with blondish tints was actually because he didn't like the black and blue anymore. Eye makeup? How child like.
Listening to the reasons why he changed was different than you expected. Way different.
Dinner went well. You told him about your studies and life after graduating. Sam made sure to pay attention at all times. You also learned that your cousin wasn't lying about so many girls liking him. “I went out with a few, had sex with one, and regretted it. They didn't like me for who I am. They just liked me cause I stopped being so emo.” He laughed at it.
“Did you like them for who they were?” He rolled his eyes at your question. “Well, duh. I don't go out with girls just cause they're cute. All those girls I dated, I got to really know before, and it's not like I went out with all the ones who wanted me.” He sips his drink, “Some of them were skanks, and I didn't wanna catch anything. And some of them were just.. not good at all, yknow? Cant believe some girls think being rude is flirting.”
“Did you start looking more for personality than looks after Alyssa?” You crack a joke, hoping that he doesn't take it the wrong way. “Yep. Most definitely.” He replied with that charming smile.
Dinner was mostly catching up. After paying, he took you to his house. Lets just say one thing led to another, and you were arguing about how you just up and left like that.
“You promised! You promised that you'd call and visit, but you lied! If you wanted me to disappear from your life, you could have fucking said that!” He sort of shouted. “Sam, I didn't want to erase you from my life. I just wanted to live a little!”
“That doesn't make any sense. You probably just didn't care about me anymore after meeting new people. Look, its fucked up, but you can say it if you want. After all, it shouldn't matter anymore cause you're here now, right?” He says sarcastically.
“I waited for you to call me for 6 years! almost a whols decade, y/n!” He crossed his arms. “I don't know if it ever occurred to you that the phone works both ways, Sam.” You yell at him.
“No, dont pull that shit on me because I did call. I tried, but you know what? You changed your god damn number.” He sounded so mad and frustrated. “Do not play with me right now. Just say it already.”
“Okay! I stopped caring! Im sorry, Sam. That was stupid of me. I was like, your only friend. I know!” You replied and put yourself on his arms for a hug. As much as he wanted to push away, he wasnt like that. At least he wasn't gonna be like that after you apologized.
he sighed, arms wrapping around you and chin resting on your shoulder. “I know you're sorry. At least you're here now.” His big hands slide up and down your back. “Missed you so much.”
You sniffled into his chest and mumbled out the same. “Let me tell you something.” He says and sits you on the couch. “If I wasn't in love with you, I wouldn't have cared thaf you left. I was so used to people leaving already, so it wouldn't have mattered. but you had me so head over heels. that's the biggest reason I was mad.”
You sort of knew he had a little crush on you, but in love? “You're lying.” He shook his head. “Why would I lie?” Fuck, thats true. “To get back at me, maybe.” You sigh. “Sam, im gonna be honest, I never had a whole crush on you, but I did think about us being a couple sometimes. When you were with Alyssa, I was thinking about how I could treat you so much better.”
“Then why didn't you? I would have said yes. Didn't you realize how often I'd rather spend time with you than her? I wanted it to be you.” He spoke softly, tangling yours and his fingers together. “I've never gotten over you. I look for you in every girl I go out with. Whether it's personality or if she has the slightest resemblance..”
Okay, Sam.. what the fuck. but also, aw! “That's.. kind of weird, but sweet in a way.” You say with a giggle. “Yeah, I guess.” Sam shrugged, accidentally looking down at your boobs. “Um, sorry.” He looked away and blushed.
No matter how much he changed, he was never gonna fully get rid of that shy guy in him. “It's okay.” You laughed at him and decided to stroke his cheek with your hand. “You've always been so cute when you blush.”
“Yeah, okay.” He says in a deepened, sarcastic voice and rolls his eyes. “Its just. blushing. Nothing about that should be amusing.” , “But it is!” Your hand went to mess with his curly hair.
“You look really good with long hair, too.” You keep complimenting him on his appearance until he rushed in for a kiss. His hands went to your hips, rubbing up and down until they got a little more nosy and rubbed your thighs, making you shiver.
“Sam, what are you doing..” You mumbled against his lips. “I couldn't hold back anymore. I needed to do something.” He mumbled back and pecked your lips one more time before shifting to your neck. “Sam, what if someone sees—” That made him smile against you. “Silly, no one's gonna see. I live alone.”
—
One thing led to another, and now he had two fingers in you on his bed. So much happened too fast. You couldn't remember what even led to this. “Sam, faster, please.” You whimper, holding onto his forearm. “Why, you don't like me going slow? Don't like when I'm being nice?” He whispered into your ear, speeding up the pace just a little bit.
“No, I—,” What were you supposed to say? You were already at a loss of words, getting so stimulated by his long fingers. “Can't say anything else, baby?” He smirked and shook his head. “It's okay. Just let me make you feel good.” He removed his fingers and put them on his mouth, sucking off all the cum you left.
He let his cock free from his boxers and slid it on between your folds, causing a moan to leave your mouth. “You like that?” He questioned, not expecting you to react like that. You nod your head at Sam, letting your hand find its way to his cock and inserting it into you for him.
Sam let a breathy moan escape him as you did this. “Shit, you couldn't wait?” He grips your hips, swallowing. “So tight. It's better than I ever imagined.” He groaned, moving in and out slowly. “Can I go faster, please? pleasepleaseplease.” Every plead was said with every thrust.
You nod your head, keeping your eyes on his face. He looked so good in the dim light. All sweaty, eyebrows knitted together. “Sam, ‘m gonna cum.” you scratch at his back. “yeah? so do it then. cum all over my cock, s’okay, pretty.” his cock went deeper inside you.
just a couple more thursts, and it was over for you. He edged himself for a little while so he could make you finish 2 more times before he slid in between your folds and came all over them. the way he would only whimper when be was close was so cute.
He stayed lying on your chest for a short while as you twirled his locks in your fingers. “Please dont leave. I can't lose you again.” Was he asking you to move all the way back here again? The first thought that came to your mind was yes, but then you went deeper into thought, thinking about your friends back over where you lived now.
“I'll..” You pause, looking at him. Look at you with his pretty eyes. “stay.”
Great.
—
Timeskipping to a year later, he asked you to be his official girlfriend and to move in with him. And of course you said yes! Life with Sam Monroe is perfect. Hes so sweet and gentle all the time, even when hes upset. Hes all you could ever ask for in a boyfriend.
—
tags: @heartsforanakin @sockiess @radiantvader @anakinstwinklebunny @lunalitva @lvrfay3 @froggyfrip @geckoomoria @espinathena-17 @demieyesore @your-arm-is-minty-fresh @gallerygourmet @haydensprettyprincess 🎀
#Spotify#hayden christensen#sam monroe#life as a house#sam monroe x you#sam monroe x reader#sam monroe fanfiction#sam monroe smut#sam monroe imagine#anakin imagine#anakin skywalker smut#anakin smut#rots anakin#star wars anakin#anakin skywalker
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Square Dance: Two Step
Country!Wanda x Male!Reader
It all started when your best friend Pietro ‘Piet’ Maximoff invited you to leave the city for a week. He saw how much city life and work was wearing you down, how much you needed a detox from all of the stress and anxiety.
He picked you up in his pick up truck from your apartment on a Sunday morning. Piet was a track star in college, full ride, and your best friend / roommate. Now he works as a mechanic in his home town. He never really talked about home but he loved it.
“I promise, pal” your Southern accented friend told you, “you’re gonna love it. I’m taking you to the best watering hole in the area tonight.”
“Are you still trying to get me to settle down?” You laughed.
“I just wanna see my bud happy. A little tail can help that” he gives you a playful wink.
First things first he helped you drop off your stuff at the guest room in his modest two story homestead. “Sorry I can’t give you the master bedroom” he chuckled, “my traveling sister came back to town, she called dibs”
“I don’t mind.” You said with a shrug, “your sis deserves it” You never met Piet’s sister but you did know about their constant teasing due to having seen their text exchanges.
“Come on, bud” he said practically pulling you out the door. “Let’s live a little!”
You and Piet made your way to the local watering hole and dance hall. Didn’t take long for Piet to make the rounds and chat up a couple people.
“Does Crystal approve of you being here?” you asked your pal with a laugh.
“Speak of the angel and she’ll appear” he responded as his longtime girlfriend made her way towards the two of you. Didn’t take long for Piet and her to go to the dance floor.
The band took to the small stage a second later. The announcer made his way to the microphone.
“Evening fellas, ladies, please give a nice warm applause to our guest singer the Good Witch, Scarlett.”
And with that introduction, the most beautiful woman you had ever seen made her way to the microphone. Her confidence, the sort of kind way she carried herself, it made your heart beat fast.
“Howdy everyone” she said with a southern twang. “Glad to see so many familiar faces in the audience…”
Her eyes locked with yours. Her eyes looked at you with pure adoration. A small smile made its way across her face.
“And so new faces too” she gave you a little wink, “so let’s start shall we?”
Her keyboardist began playing a simple melody:
(Can Love Stand the Test - Don Henley & Bonnie Raitt)
Did I lose your love a long time ago
Or did I just wear it out? Baby, I don't know
Seems like anymore we're not on the same page
In the same book, or on the same stage
We say the words, but they feel all wrong
Like a happy blues, like a sad love song
How two people can bow and scrape
For every shred of tenderness
Can love stand the test
Of times that surround us
Memories that astound us
Joy and happiness
Can love stand the test?
Her eyes were locked on you. Did she feel some sort of connection to you, as you could feel with her? You hadn’t spoken a word and yet it was like you knew her somehow.
We said forever, for always, for good
But the years were not impressed
Can love stand the test
Of time that surrounds us
Moments that astound us?
Can love stand the test
Of time that surrounds us
Moments that astound us?
Joy and happiness
Joy and happiness
Joy and happiness
The audience cheered as the song ended. The mystery singer offered a humble little bow. “Alright” she said with a giggle, “who’s ready for a little square dancing, huh?”
The crowd cheered and began asking for their own partners as the singer got off the stage and began making her own way towards you. Everyone else faded away, it was like it was only you and her in that entire watering hole.
“Howdy there” she flashed a gentle smile at you
“H-Howdy” you managed to answer back.
“You’re not from around here are ya?” her twang just made your heart flutter.
“No. I’m in town for a couple days”
“Well City Boy” she gave a little twirl in her hips, “do you wanna dance?”
“I-I got like two left feet” you said with a little embarrassment. She only giggled in response and took your hands.
“Don’t worry” she reassured you, “just follow my lead”
You and this amazing gal danced a couple square dances together that night. Time seemed to blur, you found yourself falling deeper and deeper into what felt like love. You could spend an eternity on that dance floor with her and it wouldn’t feel like enough time with her.
The way she smiled those pearly whites at you. The way her reddish brown hair bounced. The way she looked at you with those emerald green eyes that made your heart beat practically out of your chest. You didn’t think it was possible to feel this way about someone so fast.
Sadly the song came to an end. She offered you a quick bow and a tip of her own hat to you. “Ya know” she smiled at you, “you sure can dance, city boy”
“You’re not too bad yourself, ma’am” you complimented her back.
“How long you in town for?” She drew a little closer to you.
“A week, maybe a little longer”
“That’s an awful long time” she wrapped her arms around your neck, yours wrapped around her waist.
“M-my name’s Y/N”
She offered a gentle, sincere smile, “my name’s-”
“Wanda?” Piet spoke up, staring in shock at you and the gal before you. She gave a slightly embarrassed tip of the hat to Piet.
“Hey bro” Wanda said to Piet
“I see you met my bud Y/N” Piet said.
“He’s a great dancer” she answered back, giving you a gentle smile.
Part of you was horrified. Another part of you was on cloud nine. Your life was supposed to be structured, not on a whim. And yet here you were. Not only had you fallen in love on your first night out of the city, you had fallen for your best friend’s sister.
To Be Continued…
Tags: @lifespectator @aloneodi @deafeningsharkslimeempath @iamnicodemus @holiday-house-of-m @family-house-of-m @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7
#marvel#marvel imagine#marvel fluff#mcu#mcu imagine#mcu fandom#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#the scarlet witch#scarlet witch#wanda maximoff imagine#country Wanda#country girl#country girl x reader#country x city#male reader#wanda maximoff x male reader#x male reader#x male y/n
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janey's dad | c.h./the ghoul | part 01
➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader
➥ word count | 3.7 k
➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; age gap, hair pulling, teasing, making out, mutual pining, lipstick kink, stockings, porn w/ feelings, porn w/ plot, mild angst w/ happy ending, divorced!coop, babysitter!reader, pre-war/bomb
➥ summary | “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --”
➥ notes | i'm so sorry this is later than it should be. i am unfortunately a corporate slave and this fic just did not want to cooperate 🫠
there are a lot more things planned and this fic is turning into a bit of a beast (20+ pages and counting rip lmao) so i've decided to split it into two parts to make it more manageable for myself
mostly un-beta'd atm
a special thanks to @corinthianism for all her lovely help ❤️!!
feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | masterlist
Divorce is hard, but being a divorcé is downright hellish.
One of the ugliest things in the world, if Cooper Howard has any say. At least when he was a Marine, they told him where to point his gun, where to aim; nameless threats vanishing with a quick squeeze of the trigger.
Here, these ‘enemies’ aren’t enemies — not really.
It’d be easier if they were.
Worse still, they have names he holds as dearly as his own. There’s Barb, whip smart and always so clever. Then Janey, the light of his life and so sweet his teeth ache.
Once upon a time, life was sweeter than apple pie on Sundays.
Then came the separation.
Afterwards, he finds it hard to look at what’s left of his family without losing breath like a horse kick to the chest. Their absence rips open a hole inside him ten miles wide, its edges jagged and wrong.
And when he can’t take the silence anymore, fingers of malt liquor help dull the ache, though it’ll never be enough to mend what’s broken.
See, war’s something he understands.
But these domestic battlefields where he sits across from his ex-wife while lawyers barter this weekend and that holiday?
How he struggles to meet his daughter’s eye every time she asks if he’s coming home?
When Barb keeps the house and the money while he keeps the scrapbooks and the dog?
He doesn’t — can't — refuses to comprehend.
Because in what world can you reconcile looking down the barrel of a smoking gun only to find the woman you love staring back, finger on the trigger? Left out to hang as Vault-Tec orchestrates his downfall.
The true depth of their involvement is unknown, but it’s no coincidence his bank accounts dried up faster than the Mojave in June. The ink still wet when the media snapped up the story of his failed marriage.
Thus, his reputation (rather what’s left of it) unraveled faster than a spool of thread.
Knocked on his ass and kept there by a boot heel crushing his windpipe. Whose? He hasn’t got a fucking clue.
But whoever they are, they’re making sure he stays a washed up nobody who struggles to land a call back, much less pay his monthly alimony on time.
See what we can do? You were America’s favorite gunslinger - now look at you. Mind your place.
Hell, millions used to scream his name.
Nowadays people whisper it behind their hands like a dirty secret, “Oh, did you hear? Cooper Howard…” as they dissect pieces of his life into bite-sized Before’s and After’s. “Hah! Serves him right. Y’know, I never liked him much.”
While he grits his teeth and swallows his bitterness with a smile, he hates how he can’t protect Janey from snide reporters and nosy strangers. Juggling actor-father-divorcé with fumbling hands.
It’s only been six months; a heartbeat, a lifetime, and already he’s scraped thin like butter over too much bread.
Something’s gotta give.
After all, he’s only one man.
But just when it's bleakest, the clouds part.
A young woman moves in next door, the first bright thing that’s come his way in a long, long while.
At first, he kept his distance.
Exchanged vague hello’s and how-are-you’s. Then Janey took a shine; always so friendly and eager to talk about her latest books.
Any reservations he might’ve had died when he saw how enamored you are with her.
Only made sense that over time small pleasantries turned into playdates. Then those playdates turned into sleepovers.
Before long, you’re watching her when a gig runs late.
Rustling up grub and tucking her into bed more often than not these days. And when he slinks in through the door, knees aching and stripped to the bone, there you are with a shy smile and a warm meal.
So what if he takes himself in hand long after you leave, stroking his cock to the thought of you down on your knees in that pretty little sundress?
Imagines the wide stretch of your ruby lips as you swallow him down, lipstick smeared an awful mess?
Cums hard to the fantasy of your teary eyes and hiccupy breaths as you choke?
What you don’t know can’t hurt you.
After all, he’s a gentleman... he promises to keep his hands to himself.
“All right, Sugar Bomb, it’s bedtime.”
Bundled in navy bedding up to her nose, Janey’s wide brown eyes peer up at you from beneath a riot of frizzy curls. Roosevelt, her ever faithful companion, plasters himself to her side. The tip of his tail swishes once, twice before falling limp.
“Ah, c’mon guys. Don’t look at me like that.” You sigh with a fond shake of the head, hip popping out to rest against the doorframe. “I don’t make the rules, I just follow ‘em.”
A muffled response sounds from the lump of little girl, “Nmfhm.”
Squinting, you dip your head and tap the side of your ear, "Pardon?"
“Mnhfmmmm.”
“Ye—eah… Didn’t catch that, Mumbler.”
Janey tugs down the blanket, her mouth pursed in a moue of displeasure. “I said,” she crosses her arms with a huff, “not until Dad gets home.”
Shit.
“M’sorry, baby. He’s still gonna be a while.” Walking across the room, you stop beside the bed and motion your hand back and forth. “Scooch over.”
Gangly limbs fumble as Janey wiggles into the middle of the mattress, her feet tangling in the blankets. Roosevelt takes a toe to the nose during the transition, but flops across her knees all the same.
Together they settle with a bounce of springs.
In the open space, you slide in.
The bed sinks under your weight, a plume of rich cologne tickling your nose; mint-spiced citrus. Cooper. Your stomach swoops, and your heart trips.
“I didn’t see him at breakfast — or lunch!” A pout tugs at her mouth. “Not even dinner. I gotta go home tomorrow. So when am I gonna see him?”
“Oh, bug.” You sigh, propping yourself up on your elbow. “Your dad’s been real busy at work. And I know that’s been hard for you, but I promise to make sure he’s here for breakfast tomorrow.”
“D’you mean it?” Her cold nose digs into your skin. “Me and Roosevelt miss him so much.”
Cuddled into your chest, Janey tosses an arm around your back. Her fuzzy head rests in the crook of your arm, springy curls tickling your skin.
You squeeze her tight and trace your fingertips over her forehead.
“I can do you one better,” you say, bopping the tip of her nose just to hear her giggle - a soft sound that sits warm and gooey in your chest. “I pinkie-promise.”
Her finger loops around yours, so small and fragile.
“I’ll even make pancakes. How’s that sound for a promise?”
“Oh, yes, please! I think Dad will like that,” a wide yawn cuts her off mid-sentence. “He’s sad, but he always smiles when you make food.”
Janey’s words — unexpected as they are sudden — cut so deep it steals the breath from your lungs. You flounder, your heart a throbbing bruise in your chest.
“... Then pancakes it is.”
As if nothing happened at all, she asks, “Do I have to go to bed now?”
“Afraid so, little miss.” Your responding chuckle sounds stilted even to your own ears. “Just you wait. When you wake up, Dad’ll be home.”
“Fi—ine, but I want extra pancakes.” Janey pauses, considers you with narrow eyes, then adds, “With syrup!”
“Whatever you want,” you say with an indulgent smile. “Now... time to sleep. It’s really past your bedtime.”
She gives you one last squeeze then lets you tuck her in nice and tight, blankets pulled up to her chin. You drop a kiss on her forehead while Roosevelt re-settles on the pillow beside her after a quick scratch behind the ears.
Everything in order, you turn to go only for a little hand to stop you.
“Yes?” you reply, glancing at her from over your shoulder.
“... can you put on one of Dad's movies?”
The tremble in her voice - like she’s about to get scolded - breaks your heart clean down the middle. Stitching on a soft smile, you nod and walk to the darkened TV set in the room's corner.
After fiddling with the nobs, static flashes to life.
“The Man from Deadhorse okay?”
The holotape sliding into the track swallows the sound of her tiny “Yeah.” Starting up with a whirl of machinery, the second-hand Radiation King flickers to life in black-and-white.
A vast plain and bright sky stretches across the screen.
Then Sugarfoot creeps into frame with the one and only Cooper Howard sitting astride the noble steed. The sheriff’s badge on his chest glints in the sun.
“Thank you,” she mumbles, already half-way to sleep.
“Anything for you, baby. Sleep tight.”
Flicking off the lights, you leave the door cracked. Walk away pretending like hearing her whisper goodnight to the TV doesn’t lance through you like lightning.
The desire to whisk her into your arms and soothe all of her ails is almost impossible to ignore.
Somehow, you distract yourself by wiping up the table, then by fixing a plate of dinner for whenever Cooper rolls in. Though all the while, how brokenhearted Janey sounded sits in the back of your mind like a leaden weight.
When Cooper stumbles into the living room, it’s half past midnight.
You’d gotten up to greet him, curled as you were in an armchair reading, when something about the stern line of his mouth gave you pause.
Where the usual lighthearted greetings lingered, a pensive stillness trembled to life.
Tension crackles through the air; a held breath of agitation. By the faraway gaze and defeated slump of his broad shoulders, it’s plain to see the night didn’t go as intended. And no matter how much you long to soothe, you can’t.
After all, he’s not yours to touch.
Instead, you offer a sympathetic smile and ask, “Rough night, huh?”
Cooper ignores the prompt, squeezing past with a brief touch to your elbow as he makes a beeline for the dry bar. The heat of his body is there and gone in a flash, his cologne teasing your senses. He says, “Thought you’d be asleep by now.”
Your heart flutters in your throat. “Ah,” you lick your lips, “well, I was going to finish my chapter first.”
Humming, he turns his back to you and fiddles with high balls and decanters. The tink of crystal glassware fills the air as he speculates which alcohol goes best with his mood.
“Thanks again for watching Janey.” He nods in approval and fixes his whiskey neat. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble, Mr. Howard.” You shrug. “She’s a sweetheart.”
He shoots you a dry look from over his shoulder, stirring the dark amber of his drink with a forefinger. When he sucks his skin clean with a soft pop - a flash of a pink tongue taunting, teasing - your stomach swoops.
God, I wonder what else his mouth can do.
Flustered, you clear your throat and stare at a spot on the wall.
“How many times do I gotta tell you to call me Coop?” he says, digging through some drawers until he finds what he’s searching for: a lighter. “It must be a million and one by now.”
Flint sparks as flames jump, eating away at the end of a cigarette. Cooper inhales in short little puffs, pulling on the filter. His cheeks hollow, the shadows enhancing the cut of his jaw before the tip catches alight.
“Well,” he exhales, his gaze catching yours through a plume of smoke as he turns, brow raised. “Anything to say for yourself?”
“Old habits die hard, I guess,” you chuckle.
The corner of his mouth lifts in a lopsided smirk. “I’ll drink to that.” He knocks back the last finger of whiskey before refilling with gin.
Springs groan in protest when he drops to the couch, settling in with an outstretched arm and wide spread thighs.
“It’s been a long fucking day,” he rasps.
Gulping, you try to ignore the space at his feet.
The stirrings of desire provoked by the urge to sink to your knees and fill it with your body, to ease tension from those shoulders with your hands, your mouth, your cunt — if he’d let you.
“You heading home?” Nursing the fresh drink, he swallows a mouthful, only to hiss low through his teeth at the chemical burn. His throat bobs, framed by the open collar of his shirt. “Whew! Goddamn, that’s strong.”
“No, I can stay for a while.” A bird on a wire, you perch on the cushion beside him. “Got nothing else planned for tonight, anyhow.”
Cooper snorts. “I doubt that very much. A sweet young thing like you,” he motions towards you with his glass, “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of fellas calling, especially on a Friday night. Don’t waste your time with me.”
“That’s not why I--” you stop yourself short.
Save for the bustling LA avenue right outside the complex, the apartment itself is stone silent for several heartbeats. Words hover on the back of your tongue, catching in the bend of your throat molasses thick.
Meanwhile, Cooper continues to swirl the alcohol in his glass.
Maybe in a different life, you wouldn’t hesitate to express yourself.
But here — with him — you shouldn’t.
Christ sake, he’s a grieving divorcé, you chastise yourself. The last thing he needs is me trying to lay one on him.
When you speak, his name glides off your lips for the first time, clementine sweet, “... Cooper, I’m not wasting my time. I enjoy spending it with Janey - and you.”
“Well,” he husks, hooded eyes dragging down your visage in a slow once-over, “you’re the first one in a long while to feel that way, sweetheart.”
Dripping like honey whiskey from Cooper’s lips, the simple phrase burns its way down-down-down until it blooms like liquid fire in your belly. Warms you all the way to your toes as your heart pounds against your ribcage.
“I mean it.” Your knuckles twist in the pleats of your sundress, bolts of blue fabric bunched around your knees. “Everything I do is because I want to.”
The flash of red nails plucking at the sheer nylon of your stockings snaps up his attention, his gaze snagging - staying as he chases the curve of your exposed leg, hungry.
He wets his lips, and tenses his jaw when he spots how the soft fat of your thigh dimples in because of your garter. “That’s awful sweet of you to say.”
You tremble beneath the intensity of his attention.
Greedy.
Little kisses of awareness spark bright along the path his eyes carve like the caress of shy fingertips.
However, before you’re able to confront him about his interest, the heat leaches from his expression, grows mute and cold like a muzzled dog.
Readjusting the waistband of his slacks with a tug, he says, “I know you got better things to do than keep an old man company.”
Irritation sparks. “Cooper--”
“If this is about paying you for tonight,” his lips quirk into a sheepish smile, “I won’t be able to yet.” He scrubs a hand through the stubble peppered along his jaw. “The gig tonight didn’t… Well, it doesn’t matter.”
“No, that’s not what I --”
He plows on, “Anyway, the one I’ve got tomorrow should be enough. How about I stop by around seven o’clock? I’ll treat you to dinner as an apology.”
Frustration bubbles beneath the surface of your skin, antagonism thrumming through your veins. Your hands shake almost as much as your voice. “Cooper!”
“I… uh, yes?” He blinks.
Your brows furrow. “You don’t get it,” you say. “I mean, you truly don’t know?”
“I’m afraid there’s a lot I don’t get. You’re gonna have to be more particular.”
Maybe not said in so many words (or at all) but actions speak far louder.
Otherwise, why else would you spend most of your time in his apartment, fill every spare moment with Janey, and reserve evenings for his company?
Hell, you even cook and clean!
Almost scream your interest from the rooftops, and it’s obvious to everyone but him, it seems.
Here you are thinking he was preserving your dignity whenever he ignored a passing comment or lingering touch when, in fact, he’d been oblivious to their existence to begin with.
How a man can be so obtuse when you’re throwing yourself at him is beyond you.
If he wasn’t so captivating…
“Are you kidding me,” you ask, mindful of your tone, “how could you not know?” You throw your hands in the air. “I’ve been — for months!”
“Well, I don’t have a goddamn clue what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he snarks, setting his glass on the table. “Care to enlighten me?”
Fine. If that’s how he wants to play, let’s play.
When he moves to take another drag from his cigarette, you strike, fingers locking around his wrist mid-lift. And although his glassy eyes narrow, he keeps his hand still.
Waiting to see what you'll do.
Tucking your knee under you for balance, you bend forward and watch his face from beneath your lashes. When your lips wrap around the filter, a dark hunger bleeds into his expression, his pulse a steady thud against the pad of your thumb.
Inhaling, the cherry lights up, a flashbang in the dim overhead light.
Cooper’s breath hitches, and then you’re pulling away with a lungful of smoke; the taste of ash heavy on your tongue.
He tracks your movements with greed, gaze flicking for the briefest of moments past your chin before refocusing on the ring of red lipstick staining white paper.
“If you wanted one,” he chokes, gripping the back of the couch with white knuckles, “all you had to do was ask.”
With a coquettish grin, you exhale to the side and stare at him with hooded eyes. “Is that so?” Plucking the cigarette out of his limp hold, you stub it out in the ashtray. “What if I wanted to ask for something else, Mr. Howard?”
The next moment finds you deposited in his lap, his hands shooting out to grab at your waist only to freeze before they make contact.
“Woah! I--”
“Tell me something.”
Your lips caress the shell of his ear, sharing breath - sharing space as you plaster yourself to his front, arms looped over his shoulders. He jolts, body trembling with restraint.
“Would you give me what I wanted if I said please?”
The distance between you snaps taut with anticipation. “C-Coop,” he stutters. “Call me Coop.”
You hum. “Well, Coop, would you?”
“That depends almost entirely on what you’re asking for, sweetheart.”
Red nails skate along the back of his neck, play in the downy soft hair of his nape just to feel him shiver. And then you’re leaning back with your hands braced on his knees, your legs falling open in invitation.
The hem of your dress bunches around your waist, exposing the soft cotton of your underwear, and the darkened patch of slick soaking through.
“I think you know exactly what I want,” you purr. “Because you want it too. Don’t you?”
He bites down on a strangled moan when your hips arch forward, rocking the soft plush of your ass against the heavy weight of his thickening cock. The zipper digs into your skin as he tents the front of his slacks.
Mouth dropping open, his tongue flicks out to wet his lips - a slick circle of temptation that makes you clench. “I, uh, I don’t…”
Reaching between your splayed thighs, you hook a finger beneath your panties and pull the fabric aside. He jerks forward, exhaling hard at the flash of your soaked cunt and twitching clit.
“C’mon, be honest.”
With a sigh, you gather your arousal on the tips of your fingers.
Cooper’s gaze is a heavy weight pinning you in place as you pretend it’s him dragging his knuckles over the top of your mond. Him dragging calloused fingers up along sticky folds to play with your sensitive clit, ripping soft little mewls from your lips.
“Can’t you see what you do to me, Coop?” you say, pulling your hand away to show the webs of slick stretching between your fingers. “I’m so wet. Please, I’ve wanted you for so long…”
His hips rock against your ass in an aborted thrust. “Shit - shit!” Eyes slamming shut, he grits his teeth and digs his fingers into your sides hard enough to bruise. “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --”
“Why not?” Your hand brushes over his groin. “I can feel how hard you are.”
“It isn’t right, that’s why.” He stutters, stumbles over his words, “Besides, Janey…”
“I can be quiet,” you say, lips trembling. “I promise.”
“Goddamnit, you can’t say things like that and expect me not to --” Cutting himself off, strong fingers seize your chin and tilt until you’re met with Cooper’s severe expression, his scorching gaze. “You need to tell me now: are you sure this is what you want?”
There’s no hesitation, “Yes.”
In what world would you refuse?
The words barely pass your lips before Cooper’s bowing his dark head, mouth ravenous as it captures yours in a slick glide of bruising lips and hungry tongues.
He steals your breath, licks into your mouth and traces along the sensitive inside of your lip.
Pulse jump starting, your toes curl over the edge of the cushion and your thighs squeeze the barrel of his chest, kneecaps digging into his ribs.
“Oh,” a moan punches itself out of your throat - a breathy little thing swallowed up by his lips. “That’s--”
Anticipation swells, simmers between you like a band before it snaps. A strong forearm locks around your waist, tugging you into the cradle of his chest until you’re plastered from stem to stern.
Too hungry for tenderness as his free hand slips up to cup the back of your head, fingers catching in the briar of your hair and tugging at the roots.
You claw at his shoulders while sparks of pain ricochet down your neck, sufficing into a prickly flush that heats your blood. “Hnn, Cooper,” you gasp.
He murmurs your name through languid flicks of his tongue and sharp little nips of skin that leave your mouth tender and swollen. When he pulls away to survey his handiwork, his eyes are dark. Fathomless.
"I never thought I'd get the chance to kiss you like this," he says, wicking his thumb over the pillow of your bottom lip. "You taste as good as I imagined."
Dragging your nails across his scalp, you plead, “No more teasing - I can't take it.”
"Well," he grunts, fingers twisting up in your dress, “If that’s how you feel, then you better put those hips to good use and work for it, sweetheart."
#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard x you#the ghoul x you#the ghoul x reader#cooper howard smut#cooper howard#the ghoul#the ghoul smut
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@lightandfellowship re: your tags on this post (just to kind of bring this out to a different post).
I was thinking about making a separate post to expand on those tags anyway because they were a little off topic to the op, but I was like, you know, it's that Xehanort was worse to the Dandelions than Luxu was, yes. But Luxu was supposed to be that callous to the Dandelions in the first place. He was supposed to think of them as tools and to just let whatever fucked up thing was supposed to happen to them just happen. And with anyone else he can, but he can't put his personal feelings aside enough to 'do what needs to be done' for this set of people alone.
But Xehanort can.
And I think that's really interesting when looking at Xehanort as the 'replacement Luxu.' Xehanort who, as observed by another post I don't have immediately to hand, speaks with MoM twice. Xehanort who is chosen by MoM and manipulated into doing his bidding the same way Luxu was, given the same coat and made the heir to Luxu's keyblade, Xehanort who actually is allowed to take action to bring the Keyblade War about and revive the Lost Masters while Luxu is only allowed to watch.
Actually I started this post with a different thesis ('Xehanort is able to put his personal feelings aside and be ruthless even where Luxu fails to follow his role') but writing that paragraph I've changed my mind actually. Because Luxu has basically no agency in this situation, whereas Xehanort does.
Like, both of them are assigned roles by their mentors but Xehanort isn't really given a road map about how to fulfill his role. He's being manipulated, sure, but he's also making choices himself all along. They're choices that are fucked up but he understands they're fucked up and is choosing them anyway because he strongly feels it's necessary for the greater good.
Luxu has been told these things are necessary for the greater good. He's been told what to do. He's been told to just watch and that he can never take action. He doesn't even have the illusion of agency that Xehanort, who is actively choosing to lean into his feeling that destiny is inevitable, does. What is that like, to live hundreds of years never having any sense of agency? For Luxu, helping the Dandelions is fucking up. It's doing what he knows he's not supposed to, what he's been told is against the Plan, but he has no agency and this is his little way of rebelling, even if this is, to us, the 'right' thing to do. There's a question of what actually is 'right' and 'wrong' here and whether Xehanort is a 'better Luxu' than Luxu for choosing to simply follow The Plan.
Also I'm rambling here but putting things together as I go, sorry to also expand on other tags on posts I reblogged from you lol, but like. Luxu also very clearly has Lucifer stuff going on, the same way Xehanort does, down to the name. Xehanort takes on the Satan imagery over time - but it was Luxu's first. And Luxu is the one who actually tried to rebel against his Creator by deviating from his role (only to watch) and intervening with the Union leaders.
The thing about angels is they are not, in Catholic traditions (I can't speak to other denominations) is that they are not supposed to have free will. Free will is for humans; angels only follow The Plan, with no agency or say in the matter. They're messengers and avatars created only to execute the will of God. The Foretellers seem to play this role, if you will, in relation to Master of Masters. He hands them roles to execute the plan he's already designed. If we're, in this analogy, considering Master of Masters to be in the role of 'god', both Ava and Luxu are ultimately fallen angels - they both question the will of their creator, both rebel - but Luxu rebelling was built into the plan. He is Lucifer, and Lucifer rebels, and so he was still allowed to come back to the fold at the end of kh3, having fulfilled his duty even considering his rebellion. He still had no agency in the end, even having done what he thought was exercising it by saving the Union leaders.
Anyway I'm just rambling on at this point and don't really have a conclusion to this but the whole interplay between Luxu and Xehanort, agency and servitude, angels and devils, light and dark, feels really compelling to me.
#not to be getting theological on main here either but also to do that#I have more than a decade of intense religious education and even though i no longer do organized religion like#it's a topic that kh seems to have a lot of themes kh engages with#Luxu#Xehanort
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Accidentally In Enemies : Part 3 (S.CB)
Word Count : 2.7k
Warnings : swearing, breakup, food, heartache, angst
A/N : Just the epilogue left now! I'm sorry it took so long to get this part out but I ended up hitting major writer's block with this part. Hopefully the epilogue won't take long to get out so I can start posting the next series soon after the poll is finished!
It felt like the beginning again. The first day that San broke up with her. She woke up the morning after the dinner, everything processed in her brain, and she didn’t want to get up. Wanted to waste away in bed. Re-reading texts between them, wondering when things went wrong. Scrolling through pictures she had yet to delete, wishing for those days to come back. When they looked so happy together, so in love.
But Changbin refused to let her waste away in bed. Showing up at her house every single day. He didn’t let her sit with her thoughts for too long, always having something to say. Makes sure she takes care of herself. Helping her realize that this wasn’t the end of her love life, just the end of this chapter.
She had gotten used to having him around. Expecting him to be knocking at the door at the same time each day. She would find herself pulling herself out of bed to get ready for his arrival. Having a shower, getting dressed, doing her makeup. Why am I trying to impress Changbin? She would find herself thinking. But his knock would pull her from her thoughts, and she wouldn’t think about it until the next day. A cycle. A routine. It’s been so long since she had a routine like this.
A routine that didn’t seem boring. A routine that had her excited for each day. Changbin helped her find excitement and happiness in each day. Just by being around. She went from absolutely hating him to craving his time and attention. Waiting for classes to be over so she could see him again.
Until it all seemed to crumble around her.
The day started the same as it always did. With her getting ready, wondering again why she was trying to impress Changbin. And then he knocked on the door, pulling her from her wandering mind. But when she opened the door, her smile fell, and she was met with Choi San. She went to close the door, but he stopped her, slamming his hand on it, and pushing it back open. “I just want to talk.”
“Everything has been said and done, San. Let’s face it. Our relationship was over long before the breakup. I realized that recently. I’m over it.” She goes to close the door again, but he stopped her again.
“You said your piece, can I please say mine?” She stood there, staring at him, tracing his features with her eyes. She could see the bags under his eyes, wondering if he was losing sleep over what happened at the dinner weeks ago. But the obviously fresh hickey proved to her that he really didn’t care about her. He’s here for him.
“Talk.” San is persistent, she knows that. If she doesn’t hear him out now, he’ll come back again. And again. It used to be one of her favourite things about him. He’d go to her after every fight. If she wasn’t ready to talk, he’d sit with her until she was, letting her know he wasn’t going anywhere. But right now? She hates it. Wishes he could let things be said and done, focus on his new relationship, allow her to focus on herself.
“Can I come in?” She shook her head.
“You can talk out here.” He nodded, running his fingers through his hair.
“I didn’t flirt with Gahyeon or anyone else while we were together, I promise you that. We started texting, but nothing romantic until I officially ended things with you.” He paused to assess the look on Y/n’s face. Try to gauge what she’s thinking, but her face was blank. Her eyes held no emotion. All she did was nod, and turn to shut the door again, but he started talking again. “Please say you believe me.”
“Let’s say that I do. Where does that leave us? We’re still broken up. You still had someone else in line for when we broke up. Nothing changes. So what was the point of you coming all the way over here to tell me this?” Silence fell over them for a minute while San tried to think of something. “Good talk.” She goes to close the door for a fourth time, but this time stops herself to say one more thing. “Maybe you should make a note in your phone of her favourites. So you don’t forget.” Before San could say anything else, she closes the door.
He goes to knock again but is stopped by Changbin. “I think it’s pretty clear she doesn’t want to talk to you.” San looks at the door and then back at Changbin, noticing the bags of food he had in his hands. He realizes now that she was expecting Changbin when she first opened the door, smile wide, makeup freshly done. It reminds him of when they first started dating, when he would show up at her house with food and gifts. How she would open the door with the same smile, the same starry look in her eyes. It’s clear to him now that she’s completely moved on, and for some reason, he hates the feeling settling in his chest.
~
It didn’t hit her until she was gathering her belongings together after class, humming a song to herself that Changbin likes to sing to her, that she was growing attached. She was falling for him. She didn’t think of San anymore. Or the hurt he gave her. She didn’t think of the breakup in the coffee shop with San handing her a drink she barely drank. Or the dinner where San pointed out food she would hate. She didn’t even think of the fact that her relationship with San was over long before either of them walked away. That he had another girl lined up for when he left her.
She thought of Changbin coming in, sliding her favourite drink across the table like he was the one she was supposed to be meeting up with the whole time. How he knew immediately which meal at the restaurant she would like, knowing the one San pointed out was one she wouldn’t eat. She thought of the way Changbin didn’t let her dwell in the heartbreak. He mended her heart before she could even realize it was broken.
The realization stopped her in her tracks, steps away from her desk, her bag falling to the floor. She was in love with Changbin. How could she be in love with Changbin? She spent years hating him, wanting nothing to do with him. Now all she wants to do is spend the day with him. Everyday.
“Are you okay?” Changbin came rushing in, picking her bag up off the ground, looking over her to see if she was injured anywhere. “Are you sick?” When he placed his hand on her forehead, she met his eyes. They were filled with worry and concern. And they were only focused on her. Even with other students around them, he only looked at her. “Let’s get you home and I’ll make you some soup.”
He slung her bag over his shoulder with no hesitation, wrapping her in his arms, leading her out of the building and to his car. People stared. They whispered. But Changbin didn’t care. He still only looked at her. She stopped walking and reached for her bag, but Changbin pulled back. “You don’t have to do this anymore. It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve seen San. We can end this and go back to the way things used to be.” She held out her hand for her bag, but Changbin softly hit it away.
“What if I don’t want to? What if I want to continue to be by your side? Did you ever think of that?” She stared at him, unsure of what to say. It never crossed her mind that Changbin wanted to be with her. Despite that being the most plausible reason for him continuing to show up everywhere. She always saw him as someone to hate, someone that hates her just as much. “Let me just take you home. Please.” He sounded desperate. As if he was seconds away from getting on his knees. So she gave in.
The drive was silent. Unlike the drives in the past, which were usually filled with music, Changbin singing along, looking over at her, and serenading her with every cheesy love song. She would laugh, playfully smack his arm, and tell him he was a dork. But it never stopped him. Not that she wanted him to stop. And now that he’s not, she wishes for nothing more than just to be serenaded one last time.
“Don’t come around anymore.” She said softly as she got out of his car. “Thanks for all your help.” He nodded and she shut the door. He waited until she was inside to drive away, trying to pretend like his heart wasn’t hurting and his eyes weren’t stinging from holding back tears.
~
She tried to keep to routine the following days, but without Changbin knocking at her door making her excited for the days to come, the routine seemed to fall apart. It felt like she was back at square one. Pulling herself out of bed, shuffling into the bathroom. She tamed her hair that was knotted all over from tossing and turning, brushed her teeth, and washed her face.
Her eyes scanned over her makeup when she sat at the desk in her room, glancing up into the mirror. And then she stood up, got dressed, and left her room. “Eat something before you go.” Her roommate called after her. When she turned around, she saw dishes scattered on the table. “Did you and Changbin break up?” Her roommate asked as they sat at the table to eat. “I got used to having him around everyday.” She giggled.
“Me too.” Y/n mumbled then caught herself. “We weren’t dating!” Her roommate looked at her like she didn’t believe her.
“Oh please. So he was just coming over everyday with food just because?” Y/n nodded. “Picking you up after class? Taking you out all the time? Late night drives? All just because?” She nodded again, slowly this time, taking in the words. “And look at you now. You look like you’re going through a break up.”
Y/n looked down at her outfit. It was warm outside so she wore a t-shirt with a pair of shorts. It was comfortable. She thought it was cute. But if Changbin were here to pick her up, she’s sure she would have gone for a skirt instead. Or maybe a little sundress. She would have done her hair better. A touch of makeup. “I’m going to class.”
“Just admit you guys broke up!” Her roommate calls after her and she slams the door, blinking back tears as she hops on her bicycle. It’s been a while, used to Changbin driving her everywhere. But she took a deep breath, put her ear buds in, and took another second to blink back more tears, and then headed for class.
She didn’t even notice the all too familiar car sitting across the street. Changbin sitting inside, watching her to make sure she was okay. He wonders if she ate the food he left on the steps for her. Wonders if she wished he knocked on the door. If she misses the mornings they shared the way he did.
~
When all her classes were done, she packed up slower than usual, nothing to look forward to anymore. Changbin wasn’t waiting for her outside the classroom door with his heart stopping smile. He wasn’t going to take her bag and wrap an arm around her, talking a mile a minute about his day, asking about hers, as he led her to his car. They wouldn’t drive around until they found something to do, somewhere to eat.
Instead she walks alone to her bike, head down, ignoring all the chatter around her. She’s come to terms with the fact that maybe, just maybe her and Changbin took the fake dating thing a little too seriously. Got a little too close. Became a little too attached. “Y/n.” Her head snaps up at the familiar voice, seeing someone standing by her bike with a nervous smile.
“What are you doing here?” She grumbled as she unlocked her bike, getting ready to go home. And then she stood up, holding her bike by the handlebars, staring at the man that nervously scratched the back of his neck. “If you don’t have anything to say, goodbye.”
“Y/n wait, please.” She really thought she’d never see him again. Hoped she’d never see him again. “You and Changbin. Is it true you broke up?” She used to find his nervous habits cute. The way he’d kick his feet, scratch at his neck, barely make eye contact. But not anymore.
“That’s not any of your business, San.” She answered.
“Do you want to know why I actually broke up with you?” He asked before she could leave. The question had her stopping in her tracks. She thought she knew. He didn’t love her anymore. He forget everything about her, started to learn about someone new. “You’re right that our relationship was over long before either of us walked away, but do you know why?”
“Because you fell out of love with me.” She answered, turning around to face him. He shook his head.
“Because I knew you and Changbin didn’t really hate each other.” She let out a laugh. She remembers telling San all the things Changbin has done to her, said to her. All the times he made her cry. She would say his name with venom lacing her words. “It was only a matter of time before you saw what I did.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? I despised him.”
“I didn’t.” She whipped her head around to see Changbin standing there. “I never hated you. I’m just an idiot and a coward.”
“I got to go.” She said, getting on her bike and leaving before either of them could say anything else. San nodded his head towards her, telling Changbin to go after her. He watched as Changbin rushed to his car, leaving as fast as he could, knowing he was right. He leaned against the bike rack, shoving his hands in his pockets, practically kicking himself for the words that came out of his mouth.
That’s not how he wanted the talk to go. He just wanted to know if there was any hope for them to start again, but he knew by the look in her eyes when she saw him that the answer was no. It would always be no. He was too late.
~
Changbin beat her to her house, standing in front of her steps by the time she made it home, a hopeful smile on his face. “Can we please talk?” She took in his appearance. The dark circles under his eyes, the holes in his shirt. It looked like he rolled out of bed and went to class, but why does she still find him attractive?
“You look like a mess.” She said. He looked down at his outfit and chuckled, shrugging his shoulders, telling her he didn’t think he would be seeing her today, even though he wanted to. “Are you going to give me some cheesy speech about how you’ve always had feelings for me and that made you nervous so you said dumb things and that made me hate you?” He opened his mouth to dispute that but closed it and nodded. “Idiot.”
“We’ve established that.” He said. She giggled and nodded. “So? Should we give us a real chance?” He looked at her with a hopeful look in his eyes, cocking his head slightly to the side as he waited for her answer.
“Let’s go inside. We have a new episode of our show today.” She said, taking a step towards him, turning him around, and lightly pushing him up the steps, slipping her hand in his before she opened the door. He smiled at her, holding tighter so she couldn’t slip away this time.
back to masterlist
@mxnsxngie @maeleelee @turtledove824 @moon0fthenight @dinossaurz
#stray kids imagine#stray kids x reader#stray kids au#stray kids series#stray kids#skz imagine#skz x reader#skz au#skz series#skz#seo changbin imagine#seo changbin x reader#seo changbin au#seo changbin series#bang chan#lee minho#lee know#seo changbin#hwang hyunjin#han jisung#lee felix#lee yongbok#kim seungmin#yang jeongin
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Helluva Broken Narrative and the most useless character..
Disclaimer: Not saying you can't enjoy this show folks. Enjoy it all you want, this is just a rant about the lack of a cohesive narrative!
I really was completely dead on posting, but I just can't get this out of my head.
I feel people should be acknowledging this far more than it has been, this is extremely important. This goes beyond just episode pacing, this goes beyond the characters....this is something that without it? There is no real show, which is....
Helluva Boss has a BROKEN NARRATIVE.
Some fans wanna claim it has this 'complex' writing and I'm sitting here going like "really? Where?"
It doesn't sorry and know why? Because Season 2 of this show, basically broke the narrative that Season 1 was building.
These past posts of mine, will show you why the narrative is broken.
Now can they continue on with the story they are telling? Yes of course they can, but it won't fix the fact that it's not coherent to Season 1, that it's not needed.
Wanna know who the most useless character in the show is now? If you guessed Stolas, you're correct! In the meaning of making Stolas this guy who did nothing wrong and who's sad....they took away his character purpose.
Stolas has ZERO purpose being within the show now, given how things have played out.
But you might say
"Well he's needed to give Blitz the Crystal and end the deal!"
Except....no, he wasn't. They could have just delivered the crystal to I.M.P. They have Blitz’ number, just call him, get a servant to send it etc.
Remembering my posts above, where you can have I.M.P. killing in Hell as a Season 1 thing?
Maybe they're just getting started with their company? So Blitz wants to supplement with killing in Hell by killing those up top so he goes to see about getting an Asmodean Crystal?
See let's backtrack here folks, the episode Oops it was mainly about Blitz and Fizz reconciling right? Which they do at the end of the episode. Now follow this, if we take into account the above, Blitz' dialogue could be.
Blitz: "Fizz look, I know what happened to you was horrible. I don't...expect you to forgive me, but I'm struggling to support myself, my daughter and my employees with my company. I....if you can just think on it, perhaps I could get one of those Asmodean Crystals?"
The scene ends and Fizz goes back to Ozzie, while along the way he's thinking about Blitz' words and how he was saved by him where in the end, Fizz agrees to send Blitz a Crystal because he's earned it from saving his very life.
Or here's another scenario, Blitz has a Crystal from the start(which he took from Verosika when they were dating), but as things get far more hectic up on Earth with more dangers. The Crystal ends up shattering after I.M.P. gets back to Hell after a job, thus Blitz goes to actually confront his past and reconcile with Fizz in order to try and get a new one.
See how easy it is now, to just remove Stolas entirely? They took away a character's purpose of being in the show....that to me, is completely disappointing. Characters, especially those that are suppose to be IMPORTANT, should have a purpose...without that? You may as well just delete them entirely.
Blitz could have had 2 whole Seasons with relating to the past and those that he hurt, that he TRULY hurt(Verosika, Fizz and Barbie) that would actually matter to him as a character. But instead, all these characters are instead shoved to the wayside, for a character who doesn't matter anymore and only actually matters because the writing is FORCING him to matter.
You can write the narrative in so many different ways with what Season 2 gives us, that completely destroys what Season 1 told us. Are we now expected to just....IGNORE AN ENTIRE SEASON?
They can do this whole "sad Stolas is sad and Blitz is hurt and Stolas is going to give him a crystal." Thing all the way to 'try' and fix things, but it'll fix nothing....because the deal between them was retroactively made completely pointless.
The show will continue obviously, but in the back of the minds....it will be a broken narrative and Season 1 is basically buried 6 feet under. As a writer, this really annoys me....because they had how long between Seasons to nail this down? How long have we all waited just in-between episodes? This shouldn't have happened.
Yes, is storytelling hard? Obviously, none of my stories are perfect....but at least the narrative is coherent from beginning to end.
Anyway...I just...had to get this out of my head, because it was really frustrating and I want it to be acknowledged more. The narrative is important folks, if it's broken...that's not a good thing.
I'm still watching this show....if only because I'm knee deep in it now and I still somewhat actually like the characters, but what I don't like...is this broken narrative that is still hanging around with a pointless character that doesn't matter to the show anymore.
Narratives, coherent narratives are important to a story, without it? You don't have characters and you don't have a story.
#helluva boss#helluva critique#helluva boss critical#helluva critical#helluva boss criticism#vivziepop critical#Narratives are the MOST IMPORTANT THING!#helluva boss season 2#helluva boss season two#helluva boss blitz#anti stolas
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Prompt 28 - Dogwalker Au
@wolfstarmicrofic April 28, word count 785
Remus relished his daily walk through the little park beside his house. It was a good way to blow away the cobwebs and stretch out his aching muscles from being hunched over his desk for the last eight hours researching.
Sometimes, when he was too tired to walk, he’d just sit on one of the benches and people watch. He liked to make up little stories about them. Like today, there was a red-headed mum pushing her son around in his pushchair. She’d had a long day fighting off the evil wizards that plagued this land and wanted to ask the fairies to protect her son. But at what cost? He thought to himself, chuckling to himself at the absurdity of his made-up world.
He spotted a pudgy man who was grasping his briefcase to his chest, his eyes darting this way and that. He was clearly a spy and was on his way to divulge key information to his boss. Remus couldn’t quite decide if he was going to the good or the bad guys, but before he could come to a conclusion, a flash of long curly hair caught his attention, as a man so beautiful Remus instantly decided he was a siren with legs, raced across the grass after a huge black dog.
“Come back Pads!” The man yelled as he tripped over his own laces, falling over. He jumped back to his feet, spitting out a mouthful of grass and dirt before lunging forward again after the great beast. They soon ran out of sight, only the dog’s playful barks letting Remus know he was still on the loose.
Remus groaned as he stood, his joints popping and creaking as he set off back to the entrance. He’d gone maybe two or three paces when his feet were suddenly not beneath him. He landed on the stony path with a loud thump. Pain instantly sped up his back and he winced until it ebbed. “I am so sorry!” He heard the man calling as his heavy boots clumping towards him.
The dog, hanging its head a bit as though it knew it had done wrong, came and lay down next to Remus, dropping its huge head into his lap.
The man got to him, breathless and hugging his knees as he drew in lungfuls of air. “I. Am. So. Sorry.” He said again between breaths. He held up the snapped lead. “He chewed through it when I wasn’t looking and took off. Normally he’s really good, but today, I honestly don’t know what got into him.”
Remus had barely heard what the man had said, he’d been concentrating on the way his full lips moved around the words.
“Hi, I’m Remus,” He said, wanting to introduce himself. The man blinked at him and then grinned.
“Hi, I'm Sirius and that clown is Sir Paddington the third or, as I like to call him, Oi come back!” Remus looked down at the now calm dog and patted his head gently.
“Well, hello, Sir Paddington.”
“The third,” Sirius prompted.
“The third.” Remus smiled as Sirius manoeuvred himself beside Remus. He looped the handle end of the ruined lead through the dog’s collar and slid the lead part through it, fashioning a new restraint.
“There, I might actually be able to get you home now.” Sirius chastised the dog. He yanked the lead to get the dog on its feet and then offered a hand to Remus, who was still sitting on the ground. “Can I help you home first? Get you a coffee to apologise?” Remus shook his head and pointed at the house across the park.
“That’s me there. No coffee shops in between, I’m afraid.” He joked. Then an idea sparked in his mind. “But you can come and make me one if you want.” The man and his dog intrigued him. The siren with legs and his furry pal. Perhaps he’d sung a song to enrapture Remus and that’s why he’d offered. Remus put aside his silly stories and waited for Sirius’s answer.
“Yeah, go on then.” Sirius grinned. “Can this one come as well or should I take him home first?” Remus thought that Pads probably didn’t get invited to many places due to his size.
“As long as he doesn’t eat my books, he’s more than welcome.”
“Hear that, Pads? I think you just made a friend.” Sirius scratched his dog behind the ears.
They walked the short distance to Remus’s house, chatting and getting to know each other. Remus and Sirius spent many afternoons after their first encounter walking Pads around the park, though Sirius had bought a metal lead now, one that Pads couldn’t chew through.
#wolfstar#wolfstar microfic#wolfstar fic#wolfstar au#remus lupin#sirius black#remus john lupin#sirius orion black#sir paddington the third#lily evans#harry potter#baby harry potter#peter pettigrew#remus x sirius#sirius x remus#sirius and remus#remus and sirius#look out remus#sirius learn to tie your damn shoes#bad pads heal#is sirius the little mermaid? Its a possibility#dog walker au
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bambi’s relationship with alexia is so so complex and sad to me ohmy (sorry for the long msg!)
can’t fault alexia for the postpartum and her initial feelings towards bambi. everything for her was difficult and at the end of the day, she decided to go through with the pregnancy and carry bambi til she was ready to be introduced to the world. alexia can’t be faulted for not feeling an initial connection. nothing is perfect, and their relationship (like bambi’s train) is quite fragile.
i’m pretty sure i mentioned it before but i feel like alexia’s behaviours/attitudes towards bambi manifest in very selfish ways. bambi after the “Before” is someone for alexia to keep, to create a false image of what alexia thinks is a perfect family. before the “Before,” alexia wishes for bambi to start looking like her because MAYBE that’ll make her feel more connected. this makes me wish that bambi never looked like alexia until jenni’s version occurs, where bambi had no semblance of alexia’s features and jaume looked like his grandfather, whom he got his name from.
i feel like bambi would’ve overheard alexia going on and on about how perfectly jaume fits in the picture—because to bambi, that’s all alexia’s ever really cared about: if things fit into the timeline. fit into the family. fit into alexia’s schedule, alexia’s life, alexia’s wishes and wants and desires. in bambi’s POV, she’s nothing but the little girl who so happened to impede on alexia life with the worst timing ever. to bambi, alexia never wanted her. bambi doesn’t fit in (she doesn’t look like any of her known relatives), she doesn’t excel at football, and she feels like she definitely does not have anything in common with alexia.
so, the move to mexico is good for her. jenni’s great at implementing a system, thinking ahead, and prioritizes bambi above everything. there are regular video calls and visits for alba and eli, jenni knows mexico will be a culture shock so she does her best to acclimate bambi to her new home. all of alexia’s teammates are on speed dial for whenever bambi wants to call any of them. alexia definitely walks in on mapi and ingrid saying they hope bambi’s received the new train in the mail and that they’re so proud of bambi for landing the lead role in her first recital in mexico—one she ultimately finds out alba and eli flew out to go see without telling alexia.
with the move to mexico, alexia only yearns for bambi more. after all—distance makes the heart grow fonder… but in this case it’s just alexia wishing for something only because she doesn’t have it. to alexia, jenni’s version bambi begins to grow into her features and soon resembles alexia in the most heartbreaking way. bambi shares almost all of alexia’s features to a T but all of her mannerisms are picked up from jenni. it’s a cruel reminder to alexia to watch little bambi become alexia’s mini me from a distance, especially because bambi credits all of her joys in life to jenni, her “true mama.”
a really bad for bambi and alexia tho, following injured: before! deep frowns and all the love to both of them. <3
how are exams going tho, my friend? hope you’re almost done :) do you have anything planned for the summer? 🌷
Alexia suffered pretty badly from post-partum depression. She wasn't expecting it so it hit like a truck.
Injured!Alexia's love for Bambi does manifest as her being fairly selfish (but only in the main story of Injured, she eases up in Alexia's Version). Alexia and Bambi had a rough start to their relationship so Alexia was never quite sure how she was meant to act with Bambi because everyone just kept telling her about how much love she'd have for her once Bambi was out and never mentioned any of the hardship so Alexia's fairly wary when other people tell her what they do with their kids. Alexia found that being a bit selfish with Bambi worked and she didn't want anything to go wrong (it did) so she just kept it as it was.
The best thing Alexia did in Jenni's Version was get over her selfishness to let Bambi have the best chance. Of course she regrets it a little bit because she's very quickly cut out of Bambi's life and only hears things second hand but she also doesn't regret it because she's the one that made the choice to go to Jaume first instead of Bambi and she's the one that decided she couldn't change enough to let Bambi have the best life possible with her.
(I just took an exam today. It was horrible. I waffled for ages so I've no idea how I actually did. Just the exam today and then the exam on Thursday and I'm officially done. I'm out with my friend on Friday to to Toby Carvery and then I move out on Sunday!
I haven't really got any plans. I head back to work in June and I already know I'm going to hate it yet again but whatever, I need the money 🤷♀️)
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Vulnerability- Aventurine x male!Reader
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Recovery date: April 29th, 2024
Description: Hello sorry if this is a bad time, but I was wondering if you could make a story where the reader is male and comes from an extremely endangered species that is capable of having a child with a partner of the same gender, and he's kind of like Black Swan's apprentice, and went to Penacony with her but he ends up bumping into his ex Aventurine, the reader left him because he had a couple mental issues he needed to work out but he still cares about Aventurine and just doesn't know what to say to him.
Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions. I couldn't really work in the "being able to have a child with someone of the same gender" but otherwise I think this came out really well.
Word count: 1 031
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Black Swan is a bitch.
That’s Y/n’s opinion as he catches a glimpse of soft golden hair and a gaudy green suit across the bar. The memokeeper had sent her darling apprentice to get them some drinks. She could feign ignorance, but Y/n watched her look over at the bar before sending him. He knows this was intentional, but he won’t let her lead him like she leads everyone else.
Seriously, he’d been under the impression that memokeepers were simply supposed to observe, why was she so intent on meddling with his life?
“One sweetened mood and one prolonged sunrise, from the man in the green suit,” the bartender nodded over her shoulder before he could ask about the second drink.
Y/n bit their tongue and tried to hold back a scowl.
“Thank you.”
He picked up the sweetened mood and brought it back to Black Swan.
“You forgot your drink,” Black Swan hummed, taking her drink from Y/n.
“I didn’t get one.”
“But he bought you one,” she grinned, taking a sip.
“And if I took it I’d be opening myself up to talk to him, and I have nothing to say to him.”
They both looked over to the bar, finding the man in question talking with a man with purple hair who looked less than thrilled to be there. When Y/n turned back around, Black Swan was watching her drink swirl together– the layers becoming muddled and the vibrant colors becoming one dull shade. He could sense a coming lecture and sighed.
“You want to be a memokeeper to preserve your kind, to leave a record in the wake of your destruction so that maybe someday– if the universe comes to an end– you can be born again.”
“If you’re about to suggest repopulating my kind I’m going to leave.”
Black Swan laughed.
“No, no, that’s a decision only you can make. I’m just saying that you’ve found your purpose now, maybe it’s time to give relationships another chance.”
Y/n frowned.
Black Swan wasn’t wrong. The only reason Y/n had broken up with Aventurine was because he’d felt too dependent on the IPC agent. Aventurine had tried to comfort him by insisting he could depend on him, but that had only made things worse. Neither of them wanted to be taken care of and while Aventurine was in a position where he could take care of Y/n, even if it was only superficially, Y/n was out matched. So he’d left.
Now he just wasn’t sure what to say.
He’d been unsure of what to say for years. He’d had the same conversation with himself every night as he lay in bed, trying to find the words that explained why he left. Trying to explain what exactly ‘you’re too coddling’ actually meant beyond never letting him pay.
---
Y/n felt shifting below him, nudging him awake. He buried himself into his pillow a little more, frowning at how hard it was, before prying his eyes open.
“It’s been awhile,” a groggy voice spoke from above him.
The apprentice memokeeper sat up, groaning in pain as his back stretched out from the uncomfortably bent position he’d been in. Aventurine laughed, squeezing his hand. Y/n hadn’t even noticed that he was holding it, but he quickly pulled it back and settled his hands in his lap.
“Sorry, must’ve been really tired,” Y/n mumbled, yawning as he pressed himself back into his chair. “I’ll go get a doctor.”
Aventurine grabbed his wrist as he tried to leave.
“Can we talk?”
“You should get checked out, you’ve been out for a while.”
“It’s not like I’m hurt.”
“No,” Y/n sighed, “you were comatose. I’m getting you a doctor, then we can talk.”
He kept his word.
A few minutes after the doctor left the room, Y/n re-entered with a tray of food. He sat back in his seat and set the tray on the bed table before pulling it up to Aventurine.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Y/n said.
Aventurine nodded, staring at the food in front of him as they fell silent.
The small room was filled with the ticking of the clock on the wall and the faint sounds of footsteps outside. They were in the medical area on Penacony; Robin and Sunday were being treated in their rooms but Aventurine was stuck here.
Y/n found himself staring at the food on Aventurine’s tray as well.
“I’m sorry,” they both said. “Why are you-” they continued, stopping when they both turned to look at each other at the same time.
Y/n looked tired, and Aventurine looked a little sickly. It was almost funny that they were looking at each other in such vulnerable states. Maybe if they’d been able to see each other like this before, they wouldn’t have broken up. If they’d been able to understand that being able to protect one another was the only way they felt strong.
“I get it,” Aventurine said. “I always understood it… because I felt the same way,” his voice dropped to a whisper as he looked down to his hands in his lap.
“It was just… so hard to feel like I couldn’t do anything for you, like I was useless and maybe if we weren’t us we could have worked through it together but everything you tried to do to make things better made me feel worse.”
They fell silent again, collecting their thoughts and picking their next words.
This was the most open they’d ever been with each other.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” Aventurine asked suddenly.
“I did. I’ve been trying to think of how to tell you but it felt weird.”
“Why?” Y/n looked up at him. “Did you want to tell me, I mean.”
“Because I miss you.”
Aventurine nodded, then reached for their hand. He intertwined their fingers.
“Kakavasha. That’s my name.”
A small smile tugged at Y/n’s lips.
“Kakavasha,” he brought the back of the man’s hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss against the worn skin, “I think it’s a beautiful name.”
#researcher s's recovery#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail aventurine#hsr aventurine#hsr kakavasha#aventurine x reader#x reader#male reader#hsr black swan#oneshot#hsr oneshot#angst with a happy ending
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Biting the bars of my enclosure about autistic ford tonight. There's something about him using vocabulary and turns of phrase that seem "outdated" or "pretentious" that feels so painfully genuine to me. When people say he talks like that just to "try to sound smart" I wish I could explain what it's like to be so ostracized from your peers growing up that you spend all your time reading instead, to the point where you pick up your way of speaking from books instead of from people. And then what it's like for people to call you out for "talking weird" over and over again, not able to wrap their heads around why the fuck you would choose more archaic or technical or formal words than the simpler ones that surely come to everyone's minds first. What it's like to have to dedicate a sizable chunk of attention to filtering through every single word you say out loud in real time before you say it, to make absolutely sure that it isn't a word people will judge you for using or make fun of you for using, just so you'll have a chance of being taken seriously. Learning through trial and error how to filter out the words that other people don't think are normal or casual enough for the conversation, even though for you, the word choice that's "natural-sounding" enough for them is the third or fourth word you came up with when searching for the right way to phrase something in your head. I wish I could explain just how long it takes to say fucking anything after spending a lifetime doing that during every single conversation, and how repetitive and long-winded you end up being when you spend so long coming up with alternative ways of saying every little thing you ever think. And I wish people realized that, at the very least for autistic people and autistic-coded characters, speech that's seen as pretentious is really just the way they talk when they're not putting in the extra effort to filter through every word they say just so others will take the time to listen.
#ford meta#actuallyautistic#everyone go read the wikipedia page for 'stilted speech' right now#long post#ford isnt very good at masking. he doesn't have the kind of (unintentional) autistic coding that is Palatable To Neurotypicals.#definitely looking-too-deeply-at-a-kid-cartoon right now but in *some* ways. a world where the majority of people think its easy to like an#-understand ford is a world that would feel safe for me to unmask in.#i truly truly hate that fully explaining my thoughts on ford requires me to say so much about myself. but god is it such a crime-#-to use a fictional character as a lens through which to try and explain to people how to be more understanding and accepting-#-of things like this.#making fun of stilted speech is so normalized that people don't even realize they're making fun of someone for being weird.#people think its Someone Thinking They're Better Than You but its something people lay awake at night wishing they could stop doing.#and yet they still end up using the Wrong Words and being labeled a Pretentious Asshole just for talking differently than the norm.#maybe there really are people out there who deliberately use big words to try and sound smarter than everyone else. I don't know.#all I know is. in a world where its pretty obvious that people who use a discongruently complex vocabulary get made fun of for doing that.#why would someone deliberately trying to impress people do something that would only get them laughed at.#sorry for being genuine on main. as if its my fault </3
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Before the beloved comic con suit, there appears to have been another Sam & Max mascot suit made to advertise the cartoon. We know Max at least had one. This is as much confirmation as I can find at the moment. These of course could be wrong and I’m only speculating based on information here.
Sources:
The Sam & Max Homepage (fan site)
Totally Fox Kids Magazine - Spring 1998
#sam and max#sam & max#sam and max freelance police#could be wrong and im open to be corrected#tried to find any info about this fun fair at all and nothing#i even checked fox kids commercial breaks recorded on yt during april and may 1998 and nothing#when i first read the magazine page i didn't think much of it and didn't think it was an actual suit - like maybe some cut out you take a#photo with or something#but mascot suit make way more sense#also the magazine photos are my own because i couldnt find any scans of this issue online#every other issue with sam and max content has been archived but this one so i just had to take the photo myself sorry#sorry if this ends up being wrong but this is really making it look like there's some lost max mascot suit out there#unless im late to the party and its common knowledge akjsdfhkjsd#the cartoon#mascot suit#own photos#website findings#i also thought maybe they just put max here and the trademark stuff because they used max to advertise the event on this page and he's not#necessarily there but- that doesnt really make too much sense and would be false advertising in a sense so.. hm#my own photos
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Unfortunately relatable. I grew up in the church and have a lot of Christian trauma from that. I show up for special occasions for my parents… sometimes. But it’s uncomfortable from the moment I step through the door. Bigoted pastor, the self-righteousness disguising the prejudice, the political comments from the altar. Shots at young people left right and center as if the hell on earth wasn’t caused by the same older generation 90% of the congregation belongs to..
I miss being young in the choir and the youth groups and not struggling with it. It’s wild to look back at the younger version of me who was unshakeable in his faith and honestly just saddening.
I was texting my sister today about it and she said
“I 100% think ALL of us have a ton of religious trauma and everyone else in the family just doesn’t realize it cause they’re still drinking the kool-aid.”
I ran out of tag room and didn’t want to delete any 😭 seriously not lying I could write a book about all my thoughts and experiences
#I relate to all of this so much#and it’s so sad how many people truly have religious trauma#I still find myself lucky and privileged cause I know there are stories MUCH worse than mine#it’s really hard cause my parents still think I’m a Christian#honestly at this point I have no clue what i am#even if I end up still being a Christian that doesn’t help or heal all of the years of church trauma#but the hard part is still acting the part for my parents#growing up I always tried to fit into the good Christian girl mold#cause I know that’s what my parents wanted and I didn’t want to disappoint them#but once I started smoking weed and they found out? it went all downhill from there#their perfect angel fell from heaven#and I feel like ever since I haven’t been really their daughter…. I’ve just been living on the outside looking in to everything#it hurts looking back at all the years I spent brainwashed into believing that was the ONLY faith#it genuinely makes me sick to my stomach thinking about the fact that I went to a pro life rally#the thing I was talking to my sister about was how mental health was never talked about in the church#when I started dealing with it and went to my parents or the pastors or any adult really and told them what I was dealing with#wanna know what the first thing they would ALWAYS say? well have you prayed about it? the way they treated mental illness was that it was#YOUR fault cause God is punishing you for something…. that you need to pray or go to church so then God will eventually take it away#and the thing is I don’t necessarily blame my parents (which kinda sucks cause I want to blame someone)#but honestly it’s just the environment they grew up in too… like I’m 99% sure my dad has dealt with depression his entire life#but won’t get diagnosed or anything cause they always believe faith has something to do with it#which makes me incredibly sad cause I just think about how much my dad has suffered and how he didn’t need to#^^ I was typing this out when I was late to my family gathering hahaha but then I think my sister called or something so I had to stop#sorry this post is all over the place - I swear I could write a book about religious trauma#yesterday went ok surprisingly but today? TODAY is going to be so much worse#sure I’ll make a post about it later but I guessssss I should go to bed now? it’s 2am and I have to get up at 5:45 🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃#and I have a fuuuuull day of fun Christian festivities while I’m dealing with all of this bottled up and unresolved crap from my past#please don’t get me wrong I love my parents and like I said I don’t blame them - they did their best#it just really sucks wondering what my life would have been like if I didn’t grow up in the church or in a super religious family#I wonder if when I told my parents I was depressed if they would have instantly brought me in to get help
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God I hate Pinterest and I really need to stop reading the comments on literally any post on there
I just saw someone straight up say they’re afraid that show fans who haven’t read the books are going to take over and dominate the fandom and they’re afraid that their memories of the books are going to get overridden by memories of the show because of new show fans, and that’s a good reason to gatekeep.
Like okay, just say you’re a party pooper and go home.
Yeah this is about Percy Jackson but I’m not gonna tag it as that cause I don’t wanna get hunted for sport
#i say this as someone who read the books repeatedly as a kid#like was full on autistic hyperfixated on these books and would read one book in 2 days#and when i finished blood of olympus i would start back over and read from the lightning thief#i’m not exaggerating when i say i think i read each book at least 12 times#these books were so very important to me and i would not be the person i am today without them#and i have zero sympathy for people who want to gatekeep the story from people who didn’t read the books#like sorry i have real problems#and what exactly do you think you’re accomplishing beyond making someone’s day a little worse?#acting like there’s some pure pristine way to experience the story? give me a break#you can love one version of this story and let other people love another version#it took me a while to see that because i was a teenager who liked being angry but that includes the movies too#do i like the movies? not really#but there are people who do and in the end i don’t gain anything by shaming them#god there are some people who treat popular book series like the fucking bible#like it’s some moral crusade they have to go on to defend them from heretics who like the wrong version of the story#grow up and let people enjoy things#*this rant is not aimed at the children saying shit like this#*y’all will grow up and hopefully be more mature about what hills are worth dying on#*this is for the grown ass adults who act like it’s their sacred duty to shit on any changes made from the books#*and if it offends you then you probably need to take a step back and look at why you feel so threatened by other people enjoying things
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