#which is fine they don’t have to be seen by other people but also I’m spending so much time and effort in them
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hi are you still writing for james beaufort ?
The best friend - James Beaufort
Main characters: James Beaufort x reader
Genre: fanfiction, fluff, TV show
Word count: 1.999
Summary: An insight into James and Y/N's relationship. Or is it more?
James rang the bell of the property and waited for someone to open the door. He looked around; this house always reminded him of Downton Abbey for some reason. Because of him, people called it the Downtown Abbey house. The door swung open a minute later, and Y/N’s dad smiled. “Hello, mate,” he welcomed James. “Come in.” He was wearing a kitchen gown.
“Hello,” James replied, entering the house. “Thank you. Is she upstairs?”
Y/N’s dad nodded. “She just came back from work,” he said, and they walked through the hall together. When James wanted to walk up the stairs, Y/N’s dad asked: “Will you be staying over for dinner?”
“If it isn’t a problem?” James showed a small smile.
“Of course not! I will peel just a few more potatoes.”
“Thank you,” James replied and nodded.
He walked up the stairs, and as he reached the first floor, he heard some music. A steady beat of rap music filled the hall, an unexpected soundtrack for this place. James knew instantly it wasn’t coming from Y/N’s room; rap was the one genre she couldn’t stand. This had to mean her older brother was home. James smiled, remembering the countless times he and Y/N had joked about her brother’s eclectic music tastes. He approached Y/N’s room, knocking gently before pushing the door open. He found her lying on her stomach on her bed, looking exhausted. She barely reacted to his presence, only turning her head slightly so she could see him.
“Hey,” she mumbled, a yawn escaping her lips.
“Hey,” James replied softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “Long day?”
“The longest,” Y/N sighed, her voice muffled by the pillow. “I don’t think I’ve moved since I got home.” She followed his every movement, taking off his jacket, tie and shoes. He walked over to her bed and sat on the edge. “What a surprise to see you here,” she mentioned.
“I haven’t seen you for a while, so I thought, let’s check up on the best friend,” he said and ran his hand through his hair.
Y/N padded on the mattress beside her, inviting him to lie beside her. “The best friend saw you last week,” she replied.
“Which is a while back. The best friend and I used to see each other every day.” James lay beside her, placing his arm behind his head when his head hit the pillow.
“That’s a year ago,” she shot back.
“And?”
They looked at each other for a few seconds. The corners of Y/N’s lips started to curl up, which also made James smile.
“How are you?” Y/N then asked, her voice softening since it was a deep question for James.
James looked away from her, focusing his eyes now on the desk, which was full of stuff. It wasn’t like Y/N to have a messy desk. “I’m fine,” he breathed.
“Sure?”
He nodded slowly.
“And school?”
“The usual.”
“Good.”
“Ja.”
After a few minutes of silence, James turned his head to Y/N. He scanned her face; she was zoning out. He reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. They shared a quiet moment.
Suddenly, an alarm went off. James looked around the room, trying to determine where the alarm came from. It was an alarm from a phone.
Y/N softly groaned and stopped the alarm. “Time to get up,” she said and pushed herself up. “Otherwise, I will be doing nothing for the rest of the evening.” She turned around and sat on her bed, stretching her arms and shoulders. When she heard a snort next to her, she turned to James. “What?”
“You never fail to surprise me with your strange habits,” he laughed, sitting up.
She smiled and shrugged. “I guess I’m strange.”
“Luckily.”
They both got up from the bed.
“Your life would be so boring without me,” she cheekily replied, making a bun in her hair.
James squinted his eyes. “Hmm, I’m not sure.” He showed a playful smile. “Perhaps…”
She raised her eyebrows. “Perhaps what?”
They held their gaze for a few seconds, their playful tension palpable. Smiling, they moved closer without realising it, their connection deepening with each passing moment.
James finally broke the silence, his voice soft and filled with affection. “Perhaps my life would be incredibly dull without you.”
Y/N’s eyes sparkled with amusement and something deeper. “Good to know you’re aware.” She switched the light off and opened the door to the hallway.
“How was work, by the way?” James asked, closing the door behind him. Together, they walked down the stairs to the living room.
“Busy,” she sighed.
It was hard to admit, but James was jealous of Y/N in almost every way possible. One of them was the freedom she got from her parents. She had the freedom to explore her passion and what she wanted to do in the future. Y/N was currently in her gap year, working as a barista in a cafe in the next town. Her parents were very supportive of her decision. However, she had to work for at least four days. It didn’t matter what kind of job, but she had to work.
“But it was fine. For some reason, we had a very long rush hour. The time flew by,” she continued, sharing some weird situations with some customers.
When they arrived at the living room, the doors to the terrace were wide open, and in the distance, Y/N's little brother and sister were playing football in the garden. They also walked to the terrace but decided to sit on the lounge set.
James leaned back, the cushions soft against his back. “Sounds like you had quite a day.” He looked at her, admiring her resilience and positive outlook. He wished he had the same kind of freedom and support to pursue his passions without the weight of expectations bearing down on him. He unbuttoned the buttons of his sleeves and rolled them up his arms.
“Ey,” Y/N mumbled and picked up a lost button from the sofa. She held it up between her thumb and wise finger. “Just because you don’t like it, you don’t have to sprinkle it around,” she smirked and grabbed his arm left, unfolding the sleeve, checking if it belonged to this side.
“I just wanted to mark my territory.”
“Like you haven’t done that enough here,” she replied. She rolled the left sleeve up again, unfolding the right side. “Bingo.” She gave James the button. “Let me get the sewing kit.”
“It’s alright. I will let someone fix it at my place. Besides, I have enough white shirts.”
“It’s just a two-minute job. Besides, I know it is a new white shirt, and it’s too good to just throw it away because one button is missing, James.”
Before he could say anything about it, she had walked away. The left corner of his mouth curled up, and he looked at the button. He could hear her talk to her dad in the distance. He still heard some soft beats from the music upstairs, and he heard the sibling dynamic between the kids playing football.
Y/N sat down beside him again. “Arm,” she said and made a gesture. She opened the small box, probably an old cigar box and got a needle and some wire.
James placed his arm on her lap. “Don’t poke me,” he reminded her.
She took a deep breath and lifted her head, straightening her face. “Shit, there goes my plan.”
“I need to stay away from you.”
She licked her lips and casually shrugged. “I know where to find you,” she said.
“Oo, now I’m scared.”
Y/N pointed the needle at him and laughed. “As you should.”
“Aah, no, I don’t want to die. Don’t do it to me,” his voice raised, but his face stayed neutral.
She sighed and sewed the button back on the sleeve. “Hopeless.”
The music became louder. The loud music was blasting from his speaker when the Y/N’s older brother stood in front of the lounge set. He was moving along with the beat, standing in front of Y/N and James purposely. Y/N gave him a side eye, which gave him a satisfied reaction; he smiled.
“Turn that music down, mate,” Y/N’s dad said and put some plates with cutlery on the table outside. “Put on a chill playlist and set the table, will you?”
“Si Señor,” the brother said. He looked at his little sister and James. “The best friends are together again,” he said and walked over to James. “Hey, man.” He wanted to go for a handshake, but it was a weird high-five since Y/N was working on James’ right hand.
James returned the high-five with a chuckle, the easy banter between them adding to the relaxed atmosphere. “Hey, good to see you,” he greeted Y/N’s brother.
“Likewise,” the brother replied, shooting James a friendly grin before turning to Y/N. “So, what’s the occasion? You two planning a secret rendezvous or something?”
Y/N rolled her eyes, but there was a playful glint in them. “Nothing like that. Just fixing James’ button.”
“Ah, the old ‘sewing buttons’ trick,” the brother winked. “Classic move. By the way, Y/N, where is mum?”
“Work,” Y/N replied. “Well, I think she will be home any second now.” Looking up, she saw her mum walking in the living room. “Speaking of the devil.” She nodded towards her mum.
“Ah, mother!” The brother said, widening his arms and greeting his mum.
Y/N bit her lip while focusing. “Oh, this is light pink wire,” she mumbled and looked sorry at him. “Sorry. I can do it over with white wire.”
James widely smiled and shook his head. “It’s fine,” he mentioned. Every time that I wear this shirt, it will remind me of you,” he winked.
“Sure,” she dodged his words. “Anyway, will you be joining us for dinner?” A smile curved on her lips.
“Would love to,” he smiled. He didn’t want to say that her dad already invited him, since she looked excited when asking.
Y/N nodded and continued sewing.
They fell into a comfortable silence, the music now a soothing background melody as they finished sewing the button back onto James’ sleeve. Once they were done, Y/N leaned back, admiring their handiwork.
“James, sweetheart,” Y/N’s mum cheerfully said. “It’s good to see you.”
“Good evening,” James politely smiled.
“Looks good as new,” Y/N declared, a satisfied smile on her face as she rolled up his sleeve again.
“Thanks, Y/N,” James replied, giving her a playful nudge.
The entire family gathered around the dining table outside and made sure the table was all set. They all sat down to enjoy the dinner Y/N’s dad had prepared. James felt a sense of gratitude wash over him. Surrounded by the warmth of Y/N’s family. The conversations they held during dinner were filled with laughter and funny expressions.
Then Y/N’s mum wanted to invite James for tomorrow. “We are going to sail tomorrow. Would you like to join? Maybe you can ask Lydia, too,” she proposed.
A sparkle came in Y/N’s eyes when she looked at James, hoping he would say yes. “We can pick Lydia up tonight, so you both can stay here for the night. Then we don’t have to rush tomorrow morning,” Y/N proposed while looking at her parents, who seemed to agree.
“Yes, I would love to. I will be there, but I will ask Lydia,” James widely smiled.
#james beaufort#maxton hall#maxton hall the world between us#james beaufort fluff#james beaufort x reader#james beaufort reader fluff#james beaufort reader#james beaufort y/n fluff#maxton hall die welt zwischen uns#damian hardung#james beaufort x y/n
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I love Dimension 20 and all the people that work on it, but there’s something they’ve done this season (FHJY) that’s really bothered me.
When Cassandra was first introduced at the end of Sophomore Year, Brennan set the precedent of using they/them pronouns for them, and the rest of the cast followed suit (SY didn’t have the handy-dandy graphics with pronouns). However, when Cassandra was first introduced this year, their graphic only had she/her pronouns. This is despite Brennan and Ally confirming in 2020 that Cassandra is non-binary and uses she/they pronouns.
This was amended a few episodes later, the next time Cassandra’s card popped up.
However, I don’t think Brennan or any of the cast members ever used they/them pronouns when referring Cassandra this season, despite doing so in the previous season. And while using she/her pronouns for Cassandra is totally fine, ignoring their other set of pronouns feels weird. I’ve seen this happen with multi-pronoun folks in my life before where others around them default to the binary pronouns (she/her or he/him) rather than neutral pronouns (they/them or neopronouns). It feels as though they are ignoring that person’s genderqueerness and simply doing whatever comes naturally to them. In this case, Cassandra is presented as a feminine person, so since the option to use she/her pronouns is there, that’s what the cast does. (A similar thing happened to Baron in Baron’s Game and also in general. I could go on about the weird aphobia vibes in that episode…)
It’s a little strange to me since the cast is so good with pronouns for IRL folks like Ally; I would have thought that mindset extended to everyone else, but it seems not to have. Which is disappointing.
In a way, it’s funny because they’re doing what the villains are doing to Ankarna in this season: projecting human priorities such as the gender binary onto divine beings.
To clarify: I’m not saying that you can’t use binary pronouns for multi-pronoun folks as long as it’s fine with them. But only using binary pronouns when there are other options feels so limiting.
#fantasy high junior year#fantasy high#dimension 20#dimension20#cassandra fantasy high#adaine abernant#fabian seacaster#fig faeth#gorgug thistlespring#kristen applebees#riz gukgak#brennan lee mulligan
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just gonna go ahead and say this in advance—
if Riz does indeed come out in junior year, and he says, “I’m ace” or “I’m asexual” when referring specifically to his lack of romantic attraction, aromantic people are allowed to be upset about it.
#because yes of course some people irl say ace to mean both bc that’s how they personally identify#but in fictional media the distinction is necessary. especially with how few canonically aromantic characters even exist in ANY mainstream/#popular media.#I assure you I’m not invalidating anyone who is ace and they mean that to include lack of romantic attraction.#But to look at this from a MEDIA PERSPECTIVE its irresponsible to do this w/out clarification that they also know the word aromantic exists#because otherwise that’s just a conflation of asexual and aromantic without any nuance#and an erasure of aromantic people who are not asexual.#Plus—name a single fucking time a character in mainstream/popular media has said the word aromantic.#Because I can name several instances where they say asexual. But I can’t think of ONE where they say aro or aromantic.#(Maybe that Isaac kid does in season 2 of Heartstopper? But I haven’t seen it so I’m not 100% sure.)#anyways.#the way this fucking fandom—and ANY fandom with a canon aro character—discusses the aromantic spectrum#is blatantly just to remove their own personal guilt for shipping that character with other characters and erasing their orientation.#because yes aromanticism IS a spectrum!! But when people talk about fabriz and say ‘he can still be ace!’ (Which is aro erasure) or#‘he can still be aro!’ They never SHOW riz still being aro or having any kind of complex relationship with romance.#I’m angry and I’m allowed to be.#I get that a ship you liked may be hard to let go of or something#But I’d be much less mad if all the fabriz fans said ‘yeah I know Riz is aro in canon and he and Fabian would never get together.#I just like to imagine it sometimes in fiction/fanon!’ Then that would be a WHOLE different conversation#Because then they’d at least be acknowledging that riz doesn’t feel romance in canon. That fabriz is something that actively#Goes against the canon characterization of one of those characters—and that’s fine. Just fucking ACKNOWLEDGE IT.#But most of these people either WANT fabriz to be canon/believe it WILL BE canon#OR I guess feel uncomfortable confronting the fact that they ARE erasing riz’s aromanticism so they don’t even acknowledge it at all.#fhjy#fantasy high#d20#dimension 20#riz gukgak#aromantic riz gukgak#fhsy
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sorry if I don’t remember your name or conversations/experiences or basic things about myself, every few weeks my brain gets factory reset and I have to relearn how to be alive
#lighthearted but also serious bc what is going on here buddy#been feeling weird as hell these past few months#like I can remember some stuff… but it doesn’t feel normal to forget the names of anyone I haven’t seen/heard the name of in a few days#or forget about basic interests and personality traits and experiences and feel like a blank slate every day#idk like ultimately life goes on and I’m happy to live in the moment but it would be nice to understand why my brain is doing this#just thinking#meposting#I think my brain just. does this sometimes when I’m stressed. which is annoying#I recall (lmao) feeling similar during earlier parts of life so this isn’t *new* it’s just unexpected and much more disruptive as an adult#I’m feeling better about it than I was. after like. acknowledging it. bc my mind has not always felt like a sieve it isn’t always this bad.#whatever#I’ll tag as dissociation just in case it’s related/reminiscent and ppl don’t want to see that#dissociation#me and her go way back… haven’t seen each other in years though#she wasnt all bad! coping mechanisms can provide relief and a sense of safety#and as far as coping mechanisms go it’s not the most unhealthy. though it ranks high in ‘socially stunting’#I kind of miss the distance sometimes to be honest everything’s just So Much all the time#I’m so solid now#so stuck in the ruts of capitalism#fuck capitalism#I wish my imagination didn’t feel so dulled#sorry I love talking#and I don’t miss dissociation when I feel mentally present because I feel so Here with the people and things I love but rn?#it’s like a lose-lose bc I am not Here nor am I untethered. I’m heavy yet hold nothing#I enjoy being dramatic/poetic about it — I feel pretty fine. I just hope this isn’t a permanent and/or long-term state of existence.#like it makes me awful at my job I went from remembering a solid amount of the student body’s names (built up over a few years) to. like 5.#overnight it felt like. like Stressful Thing happened and I went to work and I couldn’t remember anyone’s names.#can’t believe I have to start from fucking scratch AGAIN I’d be better off quitting and working at a different school#bc at least then my lack of knowledge/remembering is justified rather than strange and seemingly rude#I’m getting better now but at the beginning of this it was blue screen in my brain all the time
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it’s kinda dawned on me that I’m spending time making diary entries for my dnd character that realistically only four or five people are seeing
#deity dialogue#one of those people is one of the ppl I’m playing dnd with rn#the other ones are xena stara and rome#which is fine they don’t have to be seen by other people but also I’m spending so much time and effort in them#doing whole ass drawing in ‘cashmere’s art style’ and even going through the struggle of making some pages appear tear stained#and for what?#for fun tbh but still#but it would be a lot to post on here because there’s already so many pages I also doubt anyone cares and also I don’t wanna be judged for#cringe because I cannot write for shit these diary entries suck ass
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Crying. About. Politics.
I try not to think too hard about anything otherwise I’ll lose my mind. And this is not a hopeless post. This is just me saying. I feel like. A lot of people are gonna vote for Trump. From your hardcore republicans to truly normal people who are like well Biden was bad we can survive Trump again. And I think about the policies and laws and regulations that have been Good that aren’t in the big news. And I think about how RIGHT NOW states are banning books and sex ed and queer people just living period. And I think about how if the state of things is this bad Now? What’s it gonna be like under a presidenr who Actively agrees with or will go along with this shit for votes.
“We survived Trump” says the people who are still here. “We can survive another four years” says the people who won’t be pushed to maybe not stick around for that long.
#big sigh#also idk how to tell ppl that ONE the genocide on Gaza should not LAST ANOTHER FUCKING YEAR#that is not what this is talking about#but the man who wanted Mexico to pay for a wall to keep them out of the US AND MEANT IT#I don’t think he would be rallying to save Gaza yall like#am I happy about our system no am I angry at ALL branches that have hindered a ceasefire yes#but you can’t tell me that Trump would care#this is not a ‘pass’ for Biden but a reminder that ppl in congress NOW were brought in back then#and that checks and balances can help and also hinder#there are many red states right now bc ppl either don’t care or they genuinely think it’ll help them#I don’t think I could come out to my coworkers in a way that would be meaningful despite them liking me already#I cannot explain to them why I don’t bind or don’t LOOK TRANS#or worse id be seen as the Acceptable trans bc I Keep It To Myself and go by she her and ma’am#even tho my team lead who I love referred to me as a woman and it upset me more than I thought it would#I’ve been so resigned to cosplaying as cis in public that she her was just a thing I lived with and thought I was ok with#but it turns out not so much#which is great for affirming that I’m not faking it after a decade of self reflection but bad for every other reason#idk it’s not good times so many people are dead when they shouldn’t be and too many people#are FINE with it under the name of stopping terror#but talk to them about domestic terror and they’ll have no idea what you’re talking about#it’s fucking awful awful awful
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Hey uh I just found this out and I'm FURIOUS but miami zoo has a kiwi bird. Which is fine if they were doing what we do here and keeping it in a darkened enclosure with clear notices to be quiet and not bang on the glass. But instead this shy, solitary nocturnal bird is being kept in broad daylight and people are being allowed to pet it. NZ twitter is out for blood right now. https://twitter.com/zoomiami/status/1637864741954637824
…fucking yikes.
The kiwi I’ve seen in other AZA zoos have been kept according to the practices you describe: dark exhibit on a flipped light cycle, in a signed quiet area. What it looks like Zoo Miami is doing is… not good.
Here’s the link to their tweet with a video about the encounter (so it’ll embed):
The video shows a kiwi out of its exhibit: on a table in what looks like a back room with bright overhead fluorescent lighting. The kiwi has no room to move around and no place to hide as people pet it and reach around it to take selfies.
What do you pay to bother the kiwi four days a week - a species which in NZ is apparently illegal to touch without permission from the Department of Conservation? $25.
Obviously it just started and I don’t know anything more about it than what’s online, but even so, this is such a bad look for an AZA zoo, holy shit. I know a bunch of new ambassador animal rules just got promulgated… I wonder if this meets them. I’ll have to go do some reading. Also, USDA is now promulgating new bird rules (it didn’t regulate birds until just recently, only mammals) so this will also have to pass their muster soon.
The guy who runs Miami’s PR, and manages the animal media like the birth of their first kiwi chick in 2019, is known for big media stunts. I’m not surprised by this but I don’t think it’s going to go over well. There’s a lot of pressure on zoos to offer new encounters and programs to help make up for inflation and pandemic losses but this not how to do it.
I’d honestly suggest New Zealanders who are upset about this contact Zoo Miami formally (more than just on twitter) using the contact form on their website, and maybe even the AZA to express concerns about this program animal’s welfare - as well as the lack of cultural awareness at one of their accredited facilities.
Edited to add: a statement from Zoo Miami is supposed to be forthcoming tomorrow. I’ll update once we have it.
#AZA zoos#zoos#animal welfare#program animal welfare#zoo politics#kiwi#lack of cultural awareness is strong in this one
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Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship dynamic fascinates me and what fascinates me even more is how people perceive them, partly because I seem to have a much more optimistic view of their dynamic than a lot of what I read suggests they do.
With that in mind I started trying to unpick how I see their dynamic and why and what I ended up with was a series of rambles on various aspects, including confidence, trust, silliness and what they ask of each other. This one is about what they ask of each other and why their relationship isn't some weird one-sided thing where Crowley gives Aziraphale everything he could possibly want or ask for.
I see a lot of posts and things suggesting Crowley always rolls over and does anything Aziraphale asks of him. I don’t know to what extent most people really believe this or if it’s just a fun joke (and I’m not saying that’s bad, I think it’s a fun joke too, I love reading all that stuff and it makes me laugh). The point I wanted to make here though is that I don’t think it’s true and also why I don’t think it’s true.
Everything from here on out is my opinion, but I won’t keep stating that in order to make it more easily readable, just take it as a given. If your opinion is different that’s absolutely fine, I love that we can all see this stuff in different ways depending on our experiences and personalities, it’s why the fandom is so fun. (It’s also why my opinion on so many things in season two ricochets wildly from one theory to another).
So back to Crowley and Aziraphale – I don’t think Aziraphale walks all over Crowley, or certainly not to the extent that people sometimes think he does. Also Crowley doesn’t and wouldn’t allow himself to be walked all over anyway. Why is this even relevant? Because I’ve seen people say that in the final 15 minutes Aziraphale finally asked Crowley to do something that pushed him over the edge and that Aziraphale was shocked when Crowley didn’t roll over and do it because Crowley always does what Aziraphale asks. This isn’t at all true for a start, but also this view tends to include a second assumption, which is that their relationship is one-sided and Aziraphale never does anything for Crowley, that he dismisses him and takes him for granted, which also is not true in a lot of ways. I think it’s a fundamental misinterpretation of their relationship dynamic.
First of all why can Crowley’s actions be interpreted as just rolling over and doing whatever Aziraphale wants? Well, the answer to that is three-fold – firstly Crowley is a genuinely unselfish in many ways, he does things for people because that’s the way he is, it doesn’t make him a pushover, it just makes him nice. Secondly he loves Aziraphale deeply. Whether he knows it or not doesn’t matter, he cares for Aziraphale and wants him to be happy. This isn’t the same as being a complete doormat, it’s simply compromising with the person you are in a relationship with and occasionally prioritising them over yourself. Both these things come together in the third thing, which is that Crowley’s love language is acts of service – he enjoys doing nice things for Aziraphale, he enjoys rescuing him, or going along with him and letting him have his own way, so why not do it? The point is he’s never railroaded into it by Aziraphale, it’s always a deliberate choice. He is literally saying, I will do this thing for you because I love you and I enjoy making you happy and this is something I feel I can give to you.
How does Aziraphale see this behaviour?
Well that’s a tricky one, because in many ways Aziraphale is the more complex character, not least because he changes the most over the course of their history together. Is there a slight element of him taking Crowley for granted in some of their interactions, especially in season two? Possibly, but mostly I don’t think that’s it at all. When someone gives you things because their love language is acts of service you develop a (mostly sub-conscious) confidence in that relationship dynamic and if you also have confidence in yourself (which Aziraphale absolutely does – I’ll write more on this another time) then when you want something you ask for things. You ask not because you learn to expect, but because you think you’re worthy of asking and you think that your relationship is strong enough to stand up to the ask. I ask my husband for things all the time, sometimes they’re things I know he’ll give me – these are easy asks (I don’t just mean physical objects, I also mean acts of service such as helping me with something), sometimes though I’ll ask for things knowing he probably won’t give me that thing or without having a clue what his answer will be – these are harder asks, the sort you don’t do early on in relationships because they might break it either in one go or over time. Sometimes a hard ask results in me getting what I want, sometimes it results in a bit of back and forth before I get what I want, sometimes I get a no and I’m temporarily annoyed or upset, sometimes I get a no and I accept it because I knew it was the most likely outcome.
The point is that I ask, and so does Aziraphale. You ask because you have confidence that you are worthy of the ask and also that your relationship is strong enough to bear the request, even if the answer is no. Can a no still be annoying or upsetting? Yes absolutely. Can a no still be wrong on the part of the other person? Also yes. The point is that sometimes the no isn’t wrong and it doesn’t necessarily break the relationship. By the time season two comes along Aziraphale is confident enough in his relationship with Crowley to feel it can bear the weight of him asking.
So what happens when he asks? Does Crowley roll over?
Well no, he doesn’t. One big example of this is right at the beginning of the series, in episode one. Here Aziraphale makes a massive ask of Crowley and he knows it’s a big ask. Even before he tells Crowley what the problem is he’s aware of the possibility of a no. “Is it something I can help you with?” Crowley sayss, and Aziraphale merely shrugs. It’s not because Nina is there, she’s gone by that point. It’s also not because he doesn’t have faith in Crowley’s ability to help him, he always has faith in Crowley’s abilities (this is a whole other thing on trust). What he’s doubting is whether Crowley will help him. It’s why they’re meeting in the café, not the bookshop. He wants to break this one to Crowley a bit at a time – there’s a problem and I need help. I want your help, it’s why I called you, but you aren’t going to like it and I’m not even sure whether you will help so I’m establishing that I need help first, rather than showing you Gabriel immediately, so that you aren’t completely surprised when I present the whole problem to you.
Once they go to the bookshop and Crowley is confronted with Gabriel he offers the help he feels able to give by saying that he’ll drive Gabriel somewhere and dump him. He’s stating his willingness to help (which is important later), but for now he’ll only help in one specific way. What he isn’t willing to do is any more than that, not even for Aziraphale.
Help me take care of Gabriel. Help me sort this mess out, Aziraphale says, and what does Crowley say? No. Absolutely not. You’re on your own with this one. Even after Aziraphale practically begs him for help, complete with puppy dog eyes and the magic word, “I’d love you to help me,” Crowley still says no. That is not the reply of someone who lets themselves be walked all over or who rolls over every time the angel they’re in love with flutters their eyelashes.
Okay so what about the fact that he returns? Well, the stakes have been raised: for a start Aziraphale is now directly in danger, which alters the balance in favour of helping him, and remember he was already willing to help, he said as much, but he was previously only willing to help in one way. Now that’s changed. Doing things you wouldn’t normally do for someone you love when the stakes are raised is a perfectly normal rection in a relationship and does not indicate an unhealthy dynamic. Crowley has now realised that getting rid of Gabriel is no longer an option - his preferred plan (dumping Gabriel somewhere) will no longer work, so the only choice is now Aziraphale’s plan of keeping him in the bookshop and taking care of him.
This is why he returns.
A quick note on the call
Just backtracking a bit here – when Aziraphale calls Crowley to ask him for help Crowley agrees to be over in two minutes. It’s instant, no questions asked and at first glance looks like Aziraphale calls and Crowley comes running just because. But nope. Later we are very clearly told that Crowley knows something is wrong the moment he picks up the phone and Aziraphale starts speaking, “This was your ‘Something’s Wrong’ voice.” Crowley already knows there’s a problem and what do you do when your closest friend calls you and tells you about a problem? You try to help. Whether that’s advice, comfort, physically going around to help out or whatever the situation calls for. Of course Crowley says he’ll be there in two minutes, he doesn’t exactly have anything else on and his friend has just indirectly told him something is wrong. He’d be a pretty shitty person/entity if he didn’t agree to drop round and try to help.
So what about the 'I was wrong' dance?
This whole interaction, that many people say indicates how under the thumb he is actually shows us the exact opposite. What’s the first thing Crowley says when Aziraphale asks him to do the dance? “I don’t do the dance.” This tells us a hell of a lot about their relationship dynamic up to this point – for a start Aziraphale has clearly done the dance before, at Crowley’s request, and he lists off the occasions. The dance is silly and slightly demeaning and Aziraphale has done it several times for Crowley, whilst Crowley has never done it, yet somehow we read this whole scene as Crowley being the whipped one? Um. No. Also heavily implied in Crowley’s, “I don’t do the dance” statement is, You’ve asked me to do this before, I’ve always said no because I don’t want to. You’ve always accepted my no before and I want (expect!) you to accept it this time.
But this time Aziraphale doesn’t accept the no. Just like Crowley wouldn’t go along with his plan earlier, Aziraphale now won’t go along with Crowley’s no. Clearly he has done so in the past, but this time their dynamics are different. They’ve been much more open about their friendship for the past four years, they’ve both accepted that they are at least close friends, if not more. They’ve saved the world together and saved each other. They both acknowledge they “carved (this existence) out for ourselves” and that brings strength to their relationship. Now that Aziraphale has more confidence in what they are to each other, he takes that confidence and tests the limits of what Crowley will do for him, to push them more towards equality. Why should he always be the one to do the dance? Crowley responds by acquiescing not because he would just roll over and do anything for Aziraphale but because he recognises three things. Firstly that Aziraphale is pushing and that this is new and that this means something to him in the context of their relationship, secondly because he reluctantly accepts Aziraphale’s point that it isn’t really fair that he never does it, and finally because the request for him to do the dance isn’t about him refusing to help (Aziraphale was never certain he would), it’s about the fact that he’s broken Aziraphale’s trust by refusing to help (which is a slightly and very subtly different thing). To illustrate this, right before Crowley does the dance, just after he says “fine,” he gets this very brief, soft look on his face – this is him acknowledging to himself that Aziraphale deserves this dance, that he loves the angel and that he’s doing this because of both those things – he could have continued to insist on a no, he clearly has before, but this time he chooses not to.
I will do this thing for you because I love you and I enjoy making you happy and this is something I feel I can give to you.
All right, what about the car thing?
What about it? Lending your car to the person you love is very normal. Ok so the car means more to Crowley than a normal car does to us, but the point still stands. Aziraphale is making a reasonable request here. Does he expect a yes? Absolutely, because he also knows it’s a reasonable request given where their relationship is. Does he flirt to get his own way? Hell, yes. Does Crowley know exactly what Aziraphale is playing at? Also a hell yes. And Crowley totally plays up to it, he’s not as opposed to it as he claims. He’s playing up his “no” and his grumpiness for effect, to encourage Aziraphale’s silly flirtiness. Look at the difference between this no and the no he gave Aziraphale earlier. There’s no anger here, there’s no real sense that he thinks Aziraphale is asking too much, he’s playing a role in their relationship and they’ve both played this game before. Look at that little slap of the hand, which Aziraphale responds to equally playfully. The game even continues after Muriel turns up at the shop, when it’s already quite clear that Crowley is going to let Aziraphale use the car (he’s already taking the plants out). Even in the back-room Crowley still teasingly grumbles about trains whilst Aziraphale smiles flirtily, and Crowley playfully withholds the car keys when Muriel interrupts them. They both know Aziraphale is going to end up with them, there’s no point to him not directly handing them over in spite of the interruption, it’s just an excuse to tease Aziraphale back. I mean, look at him – he spends the rest of the conversation wiggling his hips, grinning smugly and confidently handling the Muriel problem by talking about love. Aziraphale’s very overt reaction tells you all you need to know about the dynamic of this one.
Two can play at this flirting game, angel.
But he follows him around like a little puppy!
Well, yes and no. Sure he follows him around whilst he goes around asking all the shopkeepers to the meeting, but he does that because it’s fun for him. He’s curious, Aziraphale is acting oddly, doing something he’s never done before and Crowley wants to know what it is. He’s always found him fascinating – what silly and ridiculous thing is the angel up to now?
Also wanting to hang out with the person you are in love with isn’t at all strange or a sign you are in some sort of weird relationship where only one of you calls the shots. It’s normal. Crowley knows Aziraphale has a tendency to be silly or do unexpected things and he wants to watch him do them and also flirt with him whilst he’s doing them. Looking grumpy and reacting to Aziraphale’s silliness with disbelief is how Crowley flirts-without-flirting. Both of them know, understand and like that dynamic, and he has that role not because he’s unhealthy levels enthralled with everything Aziraphale does but because of the levels of trust they have spent millennia establishing.
What Crowley doesn’t do is wait around for Aziraphale. Look at the scene where Aziraphale daydreams about Job. In that scene he’s aware Aziraphale has something else to show him (the record clue), but he doesn’t stick around whilst Aziraphale ignores him. He could have sat down somewhere in the shop and waited – he’s got an eternity, waiting an hour or so is no big deal, but waiting around like that would suggest he really is a doormat, just waiting for the next time Aziraphale shows him any attention. He doesn’t do that, instead he goes off and does… well, something. There’s a lot of speculation over what it is, but whether he goes off to read Pride and Prejudice or just wanders off to find something more interesting to look at than the back of Aziraphale’s head, he’s clearly saying here that he has a life outside of whatever Aziraphale wants to do.
Also side note - you know what else he doesn’t do for Aziraphale? Adjust his driving style. Aziraphale clearly hates it, it makes him nervous and he even asks Crowley to change several times whilst they’re in the car together, but Crowley never does. This is how I am angel, accept it or don’t, but this is the line and I’m not changing this for you. Related to this is his refusal to accept Aziraphale altering the Bentley. Aziraphale tries to persuade him, “But it’s pretty,” and Crowley really isn’t having it. It’s another hard line and he’s not going to let Aziraphale cross it.
Anything else?
There’s a few other examples that I’ve seen listed in the, “Crowley does whatever Aziraphale says/wants” evidence piles. Things like Aziraphale assuming he’s going to get the drinks in the pub. Well, someone has to get them, and it makes perfect sense that they both assume it’s Crowley here because he’s the one more comfortable with pubs. Having a role that you take on within certain situations in a relationship is healthy and normal, imagine how exhausting it would be to debate who is going to do every little thing all of the time.
In the first series the coat cleaning is another example often cited, but this is something Crowley is perfectly happy to do. Aziraphale is flirting, which is delightful, and he’s not being asked to do anything difficult or dangerous. I will do this thing for you because I love you and I enjoy making you happy and this is something I feel I can give to you, which is totally different from, you always ask, I always give, and you always take.
What about Aziraphale. When does he give?
All the damn time. We just don’t notice it as much because Crowley asks different things of him. His love language is acts of service towards others, but he doesn’t really ask or require them in return. Sometimes he gets them from Aziraphale anyway (Holy water anyone?) Also notably in the Globe Theatre when he’s clearly the one pushing the Arrangement, and Aziraphale more or less agrees to do his work for him (“That doesn’t sound like hard work”) even before he’s asked, before they’ve gone through their little dance of Crowley pushing and Aziraphale supposedly-reluctantly agreeing.
The other things Aziraphale gives Crowley are much more nuanced, and much less measurable to us as the audience, but he gives them constantly, or more or less constantly, throughout their relationship. He gives him acceptance (although he occasionally partially withdraws it, such as in the bandstand scene), his silliness (which is more important than it first appears), a safe space (not just the bookshop, but also a safe space for Crowley to air his real views without fear of consequence, which is important irrespective of whether or not he persuades Aziraphale to agree with him), his physicality (by 1826 he’s really in Crowley’s space so much of the time) and most importantly he gives Crowley himself. Crowley constantly pushes Aziraphale to grow as a person, it’s one of the original reasons he entertains developing a friendship with him. What he asks of Aziraphale is for Aziraphale to think – really think – about what he believes. And Aziraphale does so, but only for Crowley. Humans have constantly questioned religious beliefs throughout history, they’ve written books, made speeches and even had wars over religious doctrine and the problems, inconsistencies and absurdities within it. Crowley is saying nothing to Aziraphale that he won’t already have indirectly heard from humans and dismissed or ignored. But when Crowley says it, he thinks and he changes. That’s what Crowley asks of Aziraphale and it’s what Aziraphale gives him.
What was the point of all this waffle?
Well, honestly there isn’t much of one. Only that their relationship is much more balanced than some suggest and I think I just wanted to spell that out. It also has an implication for the final 15 minutes. There’s no way Aziraphale goes into that with some sort of fake confidence that he can persuade Crowley to follow him to heaven simply because Crowley always follows him – Crowley doesn’t, he has very clear limits that he enforces with Aziraphale and Aziraphale knows this. He might feel confident for other reasons (such as thinking Crowley will be happy to be an angel again) or something else entirely different might be happening (so many theories!) but I’m pretty sure it’s nothing to do with thinking Crowley always does what he asks, because he very clearly doesn’t.
It's also why Crowley waits around afterwards to watch Aziraphale leave. It’s a way indirectly of saying one final time, I love you and I enjoy making you happy… but this is something I cannot give to you.
#good omens 2#good omens#good omens meta#apology dance#ineffable husbands#ineffable fandom#acts of service#crowley loves aziraphale#aziraphale loves crowley#aziraphale#crowley
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Can you write a friends with benefits situation Wednesday or Tara has with gp reader? Wednesday or Tara enforces a no strings attach policy but of course reader has to catch feelings and admits their feelings. It freaks Tara/wednesday and causes her to push them away and ghost them effectively hurting the reader who after a while tries to rebound with another girl causing major jealousy from Tara/Wednesday. You can choose the ending I just wanna see some jealous smut and angst mix in there 😩
She’s my Collar
Wednesday Addams x fem!werewolf!reader
Words: 4.6k (whoopsies)
Warnings: gp!reader, definitely ooc Wednesday, heat cycles, unprotected sex, knotting, explicit smut, everyone is 18+, Wednesday calls you a mutt and a puppy, breeding kink, is it really pet play if you’re actually a pet?, italian/spanish pet names and phrases, possessive Wednesday, fluff, angst i think
A/n: so sorry it took so long for me to write this anon who requested 😓 could be read as a prequel to this fic, but not specifically written as one. also i kinda strayed away from the original request, sorry about that too 😭🫶
MINORS DNI!
Wednesday didn’t want to admit it, but she was feeling a certain emotion that was completely undesirable. You’ve been out sick for an entire week. Wednesday hadn’t seen you in the last 8 days, 17 hours, and 42 minutes. But who was counting? Definitely not the Addams girl
Others would say Wednesday looked the same as any other week, but Enid’s roommate senses were tingling. Constantly fiddling with her rings, the very prominent scowl on her face that was meaner than usual, and the common frustrated grunts when Wednesday would make a mistake with her writing. Something was up, and not even god herself couldn’t stop Enid from figuring it out
While Wednesday was smart in every aspect except social, Enid’s people smarts came in useful every now and again. It really didn’t take long for her to piece two and two together. Angry roommate while someone she frequently hung out with was out sick? It was child’s play, really. All she needed to do was have Wednesday come to the same conclusion as her
Easier said that done, really. Wednesday was a knucklehead not so smart when it came to emotions. Any emotion other than creating despair, Wednesday struggled with. Luckily Enid was dedicated and also a knucklehead
Currently Wednesday was seated at her desk, simply staring at a blank piece of paper without moving. On any normal day her fingers would be speeding across the typewriter with ideas constantly coming to her. Now she was met with absolute digital silence from her mind, which proved to be discouraging and inconvenient to say the least
“Alright, Wednesday. What’s going on?”
“I have not a clue what you’re talking about.”
“You’ve been different this entire week. Spill the beans”
“As I’ve just said, I don’t have the information you want.”
“It’s because you haven’t seen her all week, right? You miss her, don’t you?”
“Why would I miss that mutt of a werewolf? I do not miss Y/n.”
“I never said her name, yet you know exactly who I’m talking about. Funny how that works, Wednesday” Enid teases. Her roomie has been caught red handed
“If you want your tongue, I’d recommend you stop talking.”
“Cmon, Wednesday, I’m being serious. It’s not weird to miss a friend. How about you check up on her?”
“First, I do not miss her. Second, she is definitely fine. I do not need to check up on her.”
“She’s been out sick for an entire week. She texted me just today the sickness isn’t showing any signs of stopping”
“Why has she not called the nurse, then?”
“She told me they ran out of the medicine she needs. The sickness is werewolf specific. I’ve gotten it before and it hurt like a bitch without medicine”
“What kind of school clinic runs out of medicine?” Wednesday says under her breath while getting up. Presumably to check on you, Enid assumes
“It’s really high in demand right now. It only infects werewolves, so you won’t catch it”
“I suppose I’ll ask Y/n on the specifics of her current condition. Perhaps it could be a part in my writings.”
“I’m sure it will be, Wednesday. Tell me how it goes!” Enid waves goodbye to Wednesday as she exits, and the Addams misses her roommates wolfish grin
Luckily your dorm isn’t too far away from Ophelia hall but it’s still a considerable walk to and from. The walk there gives Wednesday enough time to really question why she was doing this. She did not care for you, that was most definitely certain. At least that’s what Wednesday kept telling herself when she neared your room
The Addams girl hesitated before she knocked on your door. She could hear you whimpering and whining in pain, your tail quickly thumping against your bed. The shorter girl bit the bullet and held her fist against the door, quickly knocking on it
“Open up, Y/n or I’ll be forced to axe down your door.”
“Go away, Wednesday” Your voice was muffled
“Either I pick your lock or you open this door. Make your decision.”
Wednesday hears your feel shuffle to the door, and you open it just enough for your eye to peek out. Wednesday immediately notices your flushed skin and dark eye bags. You’re only wearing a tank top and boxers, trying to hide your lower body behind the door
“What do you want?” You spit out a bit more aggressively than you mean to
“I’ve come to check up on your illness”
“I’m uh- I’m okay. You can go now, Wednesday”
“You obviously aren’t, you haven’t gone to your classes all week.”
“Listen, I’m not actually sick. If I tell you what’s actually happening, promise you won’t freak out?”
“I promise.”
You suck in a breath to calm your nerves. “I’m in heat. The school clinic ran out of suppressants, so I haven’t been able to come to classes”
Wednesday looked you up and down, and in a split second she felt something she hadn’t before. Something about how your wolfish features came out. Ears were pressed against your head, tail hung low and swaying softly, and Wednesday noticed your fangs poke out when you spoke
“Let me help you.”
“W-What?” You momentarily stoped holding the door, and Wednesday let herself inside. Wednesday was immediately hit with a musk that was so… you. Werewolves weren’t her major, but she could tell you’ve marked your entire room with your own scent. Something about it made Wednesday’s mind think of all the unspeakable things she wanted to do to you
“Uh, sorry for the mess. And sorry for the smell, I know it’s bad…” You shift on your feet, and it’s only then Wednesday notices the tent in your boxers. Quickly mumbling out apology after apology, you move your tail so it covers your growing erection
“Stop apologizing, it’s getting quite annoying. I said I’d help you, did I not?”
“Help me like..?”
“Yes. Help you as in having sexual intercourse”
Your cheeks flush red and you have to actively stop your tail from wagging in excitement. Wednesday takes a step closer, but you take a step back
“A-Are you sure? You’re human, and I’m a werewolf. Your body isn’t designed to handle our heats”
Wednesday takes another step closer to you, grabbing your neck to make you look straight in her eyes. You can’t stop the whimper that escapes your throat
“I decide what I can handle.” The shorter girl firmly gropes at your clothed erection, and you moan at the contact
“Wednesday, I-”
“A dumb puppy is what you are. Why didn’t you tell me you were in heat?”
“I didn’t- I didn’t think you’d care” When Wednesday starts to massage your clothed cock more roughly, she earns another moan out of your throat
“Please, please make it better, Wednesday. It hurts so fucking much” You whimper, and Wednesday wonders if you’d look good in a collar with her name on it. She’d have to save that idea for a different day.
“Puppy.”
“Wednesday?”
“Take everything off. I want to see all of you.”
Wordlessly, you start to strip, which doesn’t take long since you’re barely wearing any clothes. Your mindless obedience made Wednesday happy. You start with your tank top and the Addams chooses to observe every part of you. Wednesday notices you’re considerably more furry than usual, your happy trail showing just above your boxer briefs
“Are you sure?” You ask nervously when you reach your boxers, and Wednesday is getting considerably more impatient
“Do I have to do everything for you?” Wednesday mutters while she takes off your boxers instead. The shorter girl sucks in a breath when your hardened cock slaps against your stomach
Wednesday didn’t expect you to be so… lewdly big. Looking at the size of your erection only reminded her your body was meant to breed. You were designed to reproduce, and the thought turned Wednesday on more than she liked
The shorter girl pushes you onto your bed, and she takes a second to look at the state you’re in
“Please, Wednesday…” You whine
“Be patient, Y/n. You’ll get there eventually”
“It hurts so much, please I can’t wait” Begging harder, Wednesday doesn’t likehow her first instinct is to give you what you want
“You’re lucky I tolerate you. If you were any other person, I’d think this was dehumanizing.” She pushes you further back, licking a stripe up your tip and across a vein. You have to stop yourself from cumming embarrassingly quick
Wednesday keeps giving your shaft long kitten-licks and you’re in heaven when she finally decides to suck your tip with a new type of hunger.
And due to previous attempts at suppressing your heat by yourself, your cock was absolutely raw at how much you masturbated. It only made Wednesday’s tongue feel even better
She hollows out her cheeks, making your tip hit the back of her throat. This earns a groan from the back of your throat. You didn’t know if touching was allowed due to her track record of broken arms and hands, so you decide to play it safe by just holding onto your bedsheets for dear life
“F-Fuck, I’m about to-“ Before you can finish your sentence, Wednesday pulls away from your cock. The look on your face is something Wednesday would like to cherish. Your penis was twitching like crazy. It was drooling with pre-cum and the shorter girls saliva. She couldn’t help but admire how you shook under her
“Why’d you stop?” Whining seemed to be a strong suit of yours
“In me.” Wednesday wipes a bit of her saliva off her chin, and you swear it’s the most attractive thing ever “Now.”
“Huh?”
“You know what I mean. Really, do I always have to spell it out for you?”
“You have to cut me some slack here, Wens…”
“I suppose I could provide an understanding for your view. You’re nothing but a dumb pup, are you not? Your kind is known to follow orders.”
“I think you’re confusing me with a domesticated dog, Wednesday”
“If I were to demand you pluck stars from the night, you would, would you not?”
“I mean I would, but for different reasons…”
“My point still stands.” Wednesday mumbles, sinking down on your erection. You don’t remember when she got naked, but you’re also not exactly complaining
The Addams holds onto your shoulders for support, and you hesitate before putting your hands on her hips. Luckily you made the right choice, your warm hands directly polar to Wednesday’s.
It takes a little effort for Wednesday to completely take in your cock, but the stretch is worth it when she sees your labored breathing like she’s the best pussy you’ve ever had. Which, Wednesday wouldn’t admit she was proud of. She could feel every vein on your cock and every twitch made her spiral into thoughts of you
The sight is funny, you think. The Wednesday Addams is impaled on your cock. The Wednesday Addams that saved Nevermore. The Wednesday Addams that was notorious for being gorgeously scary. That Wednesday Addams was riding your dick like her life depended on it.
Skin slapping together was music to your ears, and the feeling in your lower stomach you recognized well was rapidly building up. Wednesday came with a hitch in her breath, and you reluctantly pulled out before releasing your own cum with a groan. Both of you are left breathing hard.
“There will be a silver bullet in your skull if you so much as think about telling anyone about this.” Wednesday mutters in between breaths.
“Duly noted.”
—
You’ve been in this arrangement with Wednesday for about 4 months, now
The first month consisted of a casual fuck here and there. After a particularly hard week, teachers being annoying, or a hard test. It wasn’t difficult to keep your situation away from your friends. For all they knew, you two were still the platonic match-made-in-hell duo that were strictly friends
The second month was a little harder to keep your situation away from your friends. Wednesday would randomly pull you into any empty closet or classroom she could for a quick orgasm to get her through the day
The third month was rough. You two went on dates as you liked to call it, but Wednesday would call them study sessions or hangouts. Trips to Jericho on the weekend, Wednesday helping you with botany, it was practically impossible to separate both of you. Unfortunately your friends became suspicious
So during the fourth month, a new vampire transferred to Nevermore. You were assigned to give her a tour of the school and her classes. When Wednesday saw you two hang out when you’d usually see the Addams, she suspected the tour went better than anticipated. What Wednesday expected to be a minor inconvenience for one day, caused her many unwanted thoughts. It made a vein pop out of her neck. (not literally, but that’s what it felt like)
Wednesday noticed how you two started spending more time together after and during school. Of course there was definitely a reasonable explanation, you were her only friend. Unfortunately a very minuscule part of her brain is telling her you like the new vampire more than the Addams. The thought didn’t sit right with her
You were supposed to be Wednesday’s. You were supposed to only have eyes for the Addams and not some vampire that doesn’t even make you half as happy as her. You would always be Wednesday’s. When you finally realized the vampire wasn’t enough to satiate your needs, Wednesday would be there. She would be there to catch your fall, and the thought made her uncomfortable.
Wednesday Addams, a feared individual that wore her heart tucked under enough layers of blunt sarcasm and a deathly scary look, yet once glance from you sent her spiraling into something between fear and love. She hated it. She hated you. Wednesday hated you for bringing this side out of her she swore to be kept away from the surface of her character.
The Addams couldn’t afford this. You were her weakness. You definitely knew this as well. Unwanted doubt flooded her mind. Thoughts that ended up with you exploiting her only weakness made her heart ache, and not in a way she enjoyed.
You would end up breaking off your relationship with the Addams, leaving her to be made a fool as you were the only one that could do it. The worst part is Wednesday couldn’t even be angry with you. She knew you deserved someone of your own kind. Another werewolf that would understand and satiate your needs. Wednesday would end the arrangement the next time she saw you.
—
“(L/n).”
“Wednesday?” You open up your door with a smile on your face. A sight for sore eyes is what you were.
“We cannot continue our arrangement.”
“What? What do you mean?” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Wednesday wished she could take back her words, but she was doing this to keep herself safe. To make you happy.
“Our late night meetings can no longer continue. I’ve grown uncomfortable with your presence.”
“Wednesday, I-“
“A nuisance is what you are. You’re needy, and you can’t do anything by yourself. You really are just a dumb mutt. You are incapable of doing anything except cling to me like a lost child.” Wednesday spits out, and something akin to regret dawns on her face
Stray tears leave your eyes and you wipe them up as quickly as they fall, but Wednesday notices. She can tell you’re trying to be strong, your quivering lip giving you away
“I’m- I’m sorry you feel that way, Addams.” You say before turning your back on Wednesday, closing the door. Broken sobs escape your throat, and Wednesday brings her hand up to your doorknob. She thinks a little longer before a single tear falls from her eye. She turns to leave instead.
—
Three weeks, nearing four since you’ve last talked to Wednesday. You’ve been out for a week and a half and Wednesday knows exactly why. Since the Addams has been helping with your heats for the past few months, you haven’t needed to request for more suppressants. Neither you nor Wednesday knew why your heats were commonly hell-ish and lasted for weeks without the suppressants you desperately needed
Really, she could picture you right now. You would’ve found the boxers that created the least amount of friction, and you’d be whimpering and whining while your tail rapidly thumped against the bed mattress. Finding the nearest thing to bite, which usually happened to be your bed frame, you’d sink your teeth into the cold wood and find a splinter on your tongue the next time you brushed your teeth. Rinse and repeat until you eventually fell asleep or Wednesday saved you from your own body
It was pathetic how much you constantly needed Wednesday…and consequently, how much Wednesday needed you.
Disgusting is the only word Wednesday can choose when thinking of how much space in her mind you took up. She was seated in the Quad while eating an apple and contemplating her life. Which, was not in an ideal situation.
“I know you want to talk to her, Wednesday” Enid takes a seat near the shorter girl
“I do not.”
“I know for a fact you didn’t mean what you said. Unfortunately, you’re too stubborn to realize it”
“She has that new girl, does she not?”
“For the last time, Wednesday, they aren’t dating”
“They may as well be. The two are practically attached at the hip”
“So were you two, but then you decided to fuck it all up and haven’t talked to her since” Enid groans. This is was going to be harder than she thought
“Wednesday, you know how much I love you, right?”
“Annoyingly so.”
“Not-so-respectfully, you fucked up really bad. I know you didn’t mean it, but would you rather see her kiss another girl, or would you rather be the girl she kisses?”
The question makes Wednesday hesitate, and relief washes over Enid. Did she want to be with you? She mentally scoffs at the thought. The Wednesday Addams uncharacteristically soft for a girl. Outrageous. Disgusting. Absolutely unheard-
“Well, it seems you have your answer. Talk to her right now, ‘kay?” Enid knew her roomie would do the right thing even if it was gut wrenchingly difficult
The shorter girl only responds with a grumble, but it’s enough of an answer for Enid to skip away and continue being the social butterfly she was. Wednesday was going to… apologize to you. Just thinking of the word made her recoil, but it was you she was going to. As much as Wednesday didn’t like apologizing, she didn’t want to admit the thought of being away from you any longer was the worse option
She was almost in the same exact situation almost five months ago. Only this time you were sad, and it was Wednesday’s job to make you feel better (in more ways than one)
It didn’t take long getting to your dorm. She knew all of the correct routes and shortcuts to take. Wednesday was met with a tightly locked door and a knob that had collected dust after the past week and a half. She brought a hand to the door, knocking loudly
The Addams was only met with silence. That is, silence, with the exception of stray whines and whimpers
“It’s Wednesday.” Silence again.
“I know you’re in there. Ignore me and I’ll find other means to see you.” More silence
“You’ve made your decision.” The shorter girl sighs, taking a lock pick from her uniform pocket. Why she had a lock pick? For important situations like these, of course
When Wednesday finally managed to unlock your door, she noticed how you looked considerably worse than the first time the Addams decided to help you with your heat
What Wednesday didn’t expect was you fully naked sprawled on your bed. Bite marks littered your bed frame and a chew toy Wednesday bought to mock you, but it ended up being somewhat helpful. A low quality fan spun, only making your scent waft around the room even more. An air freshener was mentally added to her list of things to buy
“Go away, Wednesday.” You growled. You never growled. “If you’re here to mock me and call me a nuisance, I’d recommend you leave”
“I came to help.”
“You’ve full of bullshit, aren’t you?”
“I’m not lying, Y/n.”
“Go away, Wednesday, I’m not going to say it again.” The Addams only took this as an invitation to step closer to your bed where you were laying face down and a light blanket to cover your ass
When you only heard footsteps near, something inside you snapped. You were a werewolf. Not a puppy that said please with a tail between your legs. No, you would make Wednesday leave. Also you were sexually frustrated while in heat, so that was definitely fuel to your sour mood
Before she could register what had happened, you pinned the smaller girl to the floor. Your pupils contracted into small circles while there was a permanent snarl on your face
“I said, go away.” Your erection accidentally brushes against Wednesday’s thigh, and she was suddenly aware of how much self control you had for not already relentlessly stuffing the shorter girl full of your cum
“Knot me, cucciola.”
When the words leave Wednesday’s mouth, something in you changes. You’re overcome with sinful thoughts, and your cock starts to drool with precum at the image of Wednesday being full of you. It’s sinful, truly
“Is that why you came here? Just to be bred?”
“No, but it seems my words are working. You’re incredibly hard.” The shorter girl grabs your erection, jerking you off roughly
“Puppy.”
“Don’t… don’t call me that.” You say in between moans. Wednesday starts to sit up, and your back meets the side of your bed frame
“Cucciola wants to breed?”
“F-Fuck you.”
“We’re getting there, mi sol” The pet name accidentally slips, but you’re far too blissed out to notice
“She can’t make you feel as good as me, can she?”
“W-What? Who are you talking about?”
“You know who. The vampire that can’t get her hands off you.”
“Wednesday, we’re no-“ The shorter girl only started to stroke you faster. Her hand barely fit around your cock, but it still felt like heaven
“I don’t- I don’t like her that way” You say in between moans. Your orgasm was nearing and Wednesday knew this. She slowed down her pace, and you whined at the sudden loss of stimulation
“Knot me.”
“Huh?”
“Show me you don’t like her the way you like me.” You only notice your proximity after she speaks. Your noses are only inches apart. Wednesday’s eyes flick down to your lips, and you quickly close the distance
Wednesday was an addiction. Nicotine, acid, weed, none of it compared to how you felt while kissing Wednesday. You’d get drunk off her taste and crave it until she was in your arms once again. It was hell without her
When the shorter girl accidentally grinds on you, a surge of lust runs through your body. You quickly pick her up with your lips still attached to hers and take off her skirt. You couldn’t go another second without being in Wednesday
Sinking her onto your hardened erection, you let out a gasp of pleasure when her velvety walls stretch at your intrusion. You’re holding up her body by her thighs, and Wednesday just wishes you’d go faster.
“Cucciolo, ti amo.” The Addams moans when she looks down to see she’s only taken half of your length in her pussy. The sight is rather lewd, Wednesday thinks. Your cock is absolutely dripping with pre-cum when you push yourself further in her
“Mierda. Más, cachorro. Tan bueno para mi.” Wednesday slips into her native tongue. You haven’t seen her like this any other time she’s… helped you out
Bringing your lips to hers again, you decide to be in control when you push your tongue into her mouth. Eyes half lidded, bangs sticking to her forehead, and hair a bit disheveled, you think she’s never been prettier.
You let Wednesday rest a bit before sinking your cock deeper into her cunt, and the Addams ends up scratching you hard enough small amounts blood start to drip down your back. The sensation takes you by surprise. Accidentally bucking your hips up further into Wednesday, the girl lets out a groan as she fully takes your length in her pussy.
Placing her on the bed, you notice a tiny bulge in her stomach. You decide to be bold. Pressing your thumb against the intrusion, you hear a sound you’ve never heard before
Wednesday whimpers at your touch.
You do it again.
Her cunt squeezes around your cock, making it harder for you to keep thrusting. But you’re a wolf in heat and Wednesday is incredibly horny, so you continue your movements.
“Sh-She’ll never- she’ll never be as good as you, Wens…” An unexpected growl comes from deep within your throat
“No one can take my cock as good as you…” You’re thrusting considerably faster when Wednesday looks back down at where you two meet. The scenario folding out is a sight for sore eyes, the Addams thinks. You, feeding into your primal urges like it’s an unstoppable beast; and Wednesday willingly taking it in however she can.
“Cara mia.”
“Mine… mine all mine. No one else but mine…” You whimper a little pathetically, but the girl below you is only focused on your thrusts. Her cold hands find their way to your back again, leaving a trail of blood behind
“Yours, puppy. All yours.” Wednesday feeds into your possessive behavior. She knows she shouldn’t, but with you thoughts of reason leave her head and are replaced with thoughts of you
“Were you serious about the knotting, Wens?”
“Deathly.”
“Are you- mph~ sure? It’s kinda big…” The girl under you looks down again, and your ever growing knot seems to just be getting bigger and bigger. Even horny out of your mind, you still wanted to make sure your mate was alright.
…you decide to ignore that thought.
Your eyes were trained on how your erection stretched out Wednesday. Her pussy would be yours, and yours alone. Nobody would make her feel as good as you did. You’d make sure she wouldn’t need anyone else’s cock but yours.
A breathy moan erupts from your throat when you start to actively try to push your knot into Wednesday
“Relax for me Wens, it’ll never go in unless you want it too” You feel her tensed under your touch, but your words are enough for her to relax
Every thrust you get closer, until you eventually start to reach your peak. You can tell Wednesday is too. Her hair is messy and both of your bodies are littered with marks of possession.
“I-I’m so close Wens…” Are the last words you say before succeeding in pushing your knot into the Addams girl. You cum inside of Wednesday’s pussy, and the swell of your knot inside her is enough for Wednesday to cum impaled on your cock. The feeling of being full is an experience Wednesday wished she did with you far sooner.
You wiggle your hips to seemingly get more comfortable inside of Wednesday, but the movement only makes her moan. She was sensitive as hell.
“…was that enough proof I like you more than I like her?”
“More than enough, (Y/n).”
#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega#wednesday addams x reader#wednsday addams#enid sinclair#wednesday (2022)#jenna marie ortega#wednesday x reader#wednesday x you#jenna ortega x y/n#jenna ortega x you#wednesday x y/n
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long (like ridiculously long) rant about watcher entertainment
Whilst the vast majority of the response to the watcher drama has been negative I still have seen a few people expressing opinions along the lines of ‘oh its just $6’ ‘shouldn't creators be paid for their work’ etc. I also think this situation is getting a lot of attention from people who don't necessarily watch Watcher, or haven’t keep up with them in years so here is my breakdown of why people are unhappy with the announcement that Watcher will be putting ALL upcoming content behind a $6 a month streaming service (with the exception of the premiere episode of each season going to Youtube.)
The issue is not that it's $6.
The success of other internet companies like dropout and smosh is proof people are willing to pay for content they enjoy and to support independent content creators. I personally have given money to kickstarters, patreons, digital downloads etc in the past. But I do that because I know I’m valued as a fan with and without my money. I still get access to content on youtube for free. Even Dropout, who is a much larger and more expensive operation than Watcher, releasing 5 show a week, still maintains a steady Youtube presence.
The thing with these internet companies is they can be successful in creating something but they do have to understand that you are on the internet. You're not netflix or HBO or hulu or whatever. Watcher’s obsession with creating ‘television-calibre content’ worth $6 a month whilst also only having one show a week is unrealistic. They want to be independent creators but also television producers… but you’re not! They hate being youtubers so much but YOU ARE. That’s how you gained a fanbase in the first place and you were successful at it! If you’re not happy being a youtuber that’s fine, move on and do something else. But you can’t expect it to be funded by the fans. So many famous artists create content they care less about that has a larger audience, and that in turn funds the stuff they DO care about. If you’re so dedicated to making expensive, high-quality productions you should be using these smaller cheaper shows to save money and fund them, rather than forcing everyone of your fans to pay a monthly subscription fee that I’m sorry, just isnt worth it or is simply unaffordable for the majority of your audience who you have now essentially told aren’t welcome or valued by you. And which one is it?
Such a large percentage of your audience are casual viewers too. Why cut out that completely? What fans are you expecting to follow you to this ? Your most dedicated fans are there because they like Ryan and Shane, so why not push that? Are you trying to appeal to your fans or are you trying to make the content you want. There’s no clear creative direction that makes sense with this move and that’s why people aren’t supporting you.
Also I’m sorry but how can we suddenly trust the content is gonna improve once we start funding it when there’s already been so many missteps both in their content and their business. Look at how many fans have said Ghost Files and Mystery Files have started feeling phoned in. Their patreon has been mismanaged for years, they barely promote it and the perks on there aren't really worth it (but they have 6000 paying members because people can and do want to support them!). They go months having barely any merch. There are ways to make money on youtube, they’re just not doing it well .
And I’m sorry. But there is just absolutely no reason to have 25 employees. Shows like Survival mode should be cheap and easy to produce, and help bring in money to support larger ventures like ghost files. So why are there 18 people credited for a video of you playing Minecraft? And of course I don’t want people to lose their jobs. But continuing with this is going to cause EVERYONE to lose their jobs regardless.
They also barely have a plan for their new content. People watch for Ryan and Shane, you KNOW THAT. So why is your first new big show hiring the worth it boys and doing a globe-trotting, crazily expensive show. Are you even really expanding your content if you’re still sticking to a one-video-a-week schedule with no present plan to change that? They have a survey for subscribers to vote which past show to bring back, but there’s obviously a major budget difference between filming something like Weird Wonderful World and something like SD&D&D… or at least there should be but there isn't when you employ 20 people to make one video. There’s such a clear lack of thought put into it that makes me even less likely to want to support.
I want to say that they probably expected a negative backlash and thought they could just wait it out… but did they? Because WHY did they hype this up like it was an insane new announcement fans would go wild for. WHY do this several days before you have live shows where you let fans ask questions live to your faces? So much of this roll out makes absolutely no sense and makes Ryan, Shane, and Steve look so ridiculously out-of-touch with their fanbase, which only makes fans feel even less supportive.
I think their defenders think we want to see Watcher crash and burn but the majority of us don't. I want them to be successful but this isn't the way to do it and I truly do believe it’s going to ruin their company. Unfortunately as much as I love them, I wont be supporting them.
#watcher#watcher entertainment#ryan bergara#shane madej#steven lim#buzzfeed unsolved#ghost files#mystery files#seriously though... what the hell#i dont even use tumblr anymore but i just had to get my thoughts out#sorry i don’t know how to do the read more function i haven’t properly used tumblr since 2016
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Wake up with your dream life: affirm & relax challenge
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・。.。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
This is a challenge suggestion created by @leilth that I expanded upon ❤️
This challenge is going to help: calm your anxiety & stress, remove negativity, help reprogram your mind for manifesting your dream life, shifting, or entering the void.
Most beneficial for people with: overthinking tendencies, overactive minds, stress & anxiety, difficult circumstances
Why affirm & relax?
Most people have heard about affirm & persist, which has a lot of baggage attached, and may be seen as “robotic” or a chore. We’re switching that mindset up now.
We’re affirming because thinking positive thoughts makes us feel good. We’re thinking all the time anyway, we might as well be thinking thoughts that make us happy.
We’re relaxing because we know our dream life is on the way and we don’t have to do anything to deserve/earn/achieve it.
We’re not forcing ourselves or doing techniques to “get anything”. Like doing a yoga class or getting a massage - we’re doing it because it’s relaxing & makes us feel good.
We already know our desires belong to us, the techniques are just calming the doubtful human mind to make the transition easier.
We are relaxing and not obsessing about a deadline or time crunch because we know time is an illusion and our success is inevitable.
Challenge steps!
1) Decide your focus/intention. Do you want to wake up with all your desires? Master the void? Shift to your DR? Decide now and make your script or desires list, if you haven’t already. Got it? Alright, it’s yours! All you have to do now is sit back and relax and wait for your reality to conform.
In the meantime, here’s what you can do to relax and embody your desired state until it materializes:
2) Pick a sub playlist or make your own. I have curated a couple playlists with trusted subs you might want to try:
If you have a lot of negativity and unfortunate circumstances in your life, this playlist is for releasing negativity, curses & toxic people and manifesting a better life.
I collected a bunch of subs for this challenge that include topics like waking up with your desires, manifesting overnight, shifting, self-concept, blockage removals, boosters and more. The first sub in the playlist is one that can be looped overnight to wake up with your desires.
Subs for the void state
Pick the ones most relevant to you and make your own playlist to use daily.
3) Listen to your playlist 30-60 minutes a day. Try listening once in the morning and once at night, but any time works. You can also loop your playlist in the background throughout the day or night and listen while doing other things.
For about 10 minutes of your listening time, try to relax and breathe deeply while sitting in the psych-k position.
4) Listen to an aff tape for 10 minutes while doing psych-k or another calming exercise. Instead of psych-k, you could also try SRT, tapping, breathwork, lying under a weighted blanket, or any other calming exercise. If you do it with psych-k then do it 5 minutes each sides.
My aff tapes:
comfort & relaxation
self-concept & void concept
master shifter & master manifestor
I’m living my dream life
5) EFT tapping for your desires twice a day. You can follow the basic script I provided here, but try to use your own words with whatever specific emotions you find coming up for you in the moment. Try to tap for around 10-15 minutes. In the morning just after you wake up & before you go to bed are the most powerful times.
You can also do quick mini tapping sessions throughout the day. It’s fine to just tap only on one point while repeating your affs for a positive tune-up.
6) Each hour say your affirmation 30 times. Set a repeating reminder on your phone with one blanket aff such as “I have all my desires” or “I woke up with my dream life” or “I’m in my desired reality” or “I have mastered the void” and repeat 30x when it goes off. It’s ok to repeat it in your head if you can’t say it out loud.
The specific number of 30 affs is based off Cleo’s 12hr movement challenge which was very successful for many people who tried it. Feel free to repeat more or less based on your preference.
7) As you are drifting off to sleep: imagine, affirm, or intend to wake up with your desires. You might picture a brief scene opening your eyes to your desires in the morning (if you’re good at visualization). You could repeat the same aff you have been repeating throughout the day, or pick a short phrase that would make you feel successful like “I did it!” to loop until you fall asleep.
8) Repeat daily until you wake up with your desires!
NOTE: You may or may not see 3D acting up but again it's a good sign that what you are doing is working. You can tend to the 3D but don’t react to it. That’s just the old story trying to pull you back. Treat those old thoughts and circumstances like unruly children, firmly tell them “no!” And don’t let them get away with anything!! You are the boss now!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・。.。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Daily Activities Summary:
1) Listen to your sub playlist for 30-60 minutes. It’s fine to listen while doing other things. Try to sit in the psych-k position while listening for at least 10 minutes.
2) Listen to an aff tape while doing psych-k (or other calming activity) for 10 minutes. Just breathe deep and relax while listening.
3) EFT tapping for 10-15 minutes, once in the morning & once in the evening, more if you want!
4) Affirm with your main aff 30 times each hour you’re awake.
5) Affirm or imagine waking up with your desires as you drift off to sleep.
6) No identifying with 3D circumstances, tell negative thoughts “No!” and counteract them with your affs.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・。.。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Why do we do each method?
Psych-k: we do psych-k sessions while listening to subliminals or aff tapes because it helps calm our nervous systems and connect both sides of our brains, releasing stuck stress and speeding up the process of learning the affirmations.
Tapping: we do tapping because it helps us to remove all blocked energy & emotions holding us back, replacing it with beliefs that say we already have our desires. It helps us shift our state to feel like we already have what we want and makes it easier to accept our new affs.
Repeating affirmations: we are repeating affirmations each hour so we saturate our mind as much as possible and remind ourselves of the new story. We’re doing this to calm the impatient overactive human brain that wants to keep telling the old story.
SATS/lullaby: Imagining your desires fulfilled or repeating affirmations as you go to sleep are some of the OG methods of loa manifesting. Whatever you think of right before you fall asleep is going to powerfully affect your subconscious mind.
How long is this gonna take??
Everything depends on how much resistance you have and your personal mindset and journey. We’re not making deadlines or limits because time is an illusion right?
But on average, both EFT and Psych-k have been proven to permanently change beliefs in about 7 sessions. So one week should be more than enough. Since we’re also doing tapping and affirming and listening to subs, it’s gonna work from all angles, speeding up the process even if you have doubts, fears, or limiting beliefs.
Now stop scrolling and go affirm and relax!! You’re gonna be living your dream life in no time at all! 💕
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Exploring Bucky’s Body
Bucky x GN!Reader
Description: When Bucky feels self-conscious about his scars, you take a moment to remind him how perfect he truly is
Warnings: Nonsexual nudity, hurt/comfort, Angst and fluff, insecurities, Sad!Self-Conscious!Bucky, pet names (Sweet Boy, Sweetheart, ), no y/n used, no pronouns used beyond "you"
((18+ only below the cut please and thank you!!))
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Bucky has been off all day.
No one else seems to see it, he’s gotten good at hiding it from most people
But you know him better than that, you can see how deep in his own head he is
The distant look in his eyes, the fact he’s even quieter than usual, the way he tenses when anyone touches him, even you
He assures you that he’s fine when you ask, that nothing’s wrong, but you know him
You decide not to bring it up again until the two of you are laying down to go to bed that night
You notice he still has a t-shirt on as he gets ready to settle in, which is strange because he almost always sleeps without a shirt on, adoring the feeling of your skin against his own
So you wrap your arms around his waist from behind, pressing a little kiss to the crook of his neck
“What’s on your mind, Sweet Boy?” you whisper. Bucky didn't look at you, “you know you can talk to me, Honey. Please, what’s wrong?”
He shrugs, avoiding your gaze
You sigh, and go to reach under his shirt to rub his back when you hear a sharp inhale
“Buck? Are you okay?”
“Don’t,” he whispers, “don’t touch them. Please.”
“Don’t touch what?”
“The scars.”
Realization hits you instantly
Bucky gets in his own head, so nervous about how others see him. How you see him.
“Bucky…” you move in front of him, sitting in his lap and taking his face in both hands, “you know I love your body…”
“Don’t act like you don’t hate them,” he murmurs, eyes still refusing to meet yours, “you don’t have to lie–”
“Ssshhh…” you wrap your arms around his neck, guiding his head to your shoulder and running your fingers through his hair, “I’m not lying. I love every part of you.”
He still won’t meet your gaze, so you decide to try something
Sliding out of his lap you softly ask, “Sweetheart, can you lay down for me?”
He cocks his head, finally looking at you, eyes full of confusion
“Just trust me, okay?”
Finally, he does as you ask and settles in bed, resting his back against the headboard
You slip off your shirt
You slip your shorts off as well, fully naked in front of him.
He’s surprised, to say the least
“Doll?”
“Would it be alright if I was on top of you?” you ask.
He nods, still confused as you straddle his hips
Your hand finds the waistband of his boxers
“Can I take these off?” you ask.
His eyes flit around, biting his lip as his body goes tense
You can see the conflict in his blue eyes, desperately wanting to be against you but also so nervous about being seen
Finally, nervously, he nods, and quietly says “yes.”
you slip them off, and his underwear is on the floor
Your hand runs along the hem of his shirt, “can I take this off?”
He pulls back, terrified to let you see him
“I promise, I won’t hurt you, Baby Boy,” you whisper, “just want to show you how perfect you are.”
He’s nervous, you can tell, but he slowly slides it off, you assisting him
Once he’s fully bare, you begin to gently run your hands along his torso
“D-Doll,” he gasps out, eyes fluttering, “don’t…”
“Shhhh, just lemme touch you,” you lean forward and kiss his cheek, “just lemme admire my Incredible boyfriend.”
Your fingertips draw shudders from his body and gasps from his lips, shocked by your gentle touch
Nothing sexual, just you dragging your fingers along every mark, every scar, every tense and taut muscle, every dip of his ribs
Exploring his body with the softest, most gentle feather-light touches
“How?” Bucky whispers, his voice full of emotion. You look up at him and see tears forming in his eyes, “how could you like touching them?”
You reach out and cup his cheek, wiping the tears with your thumb.
“Because you had to be so strong and so brave for so long, Baby,” you lean down and kiss a slash along his ribcage, causing him to gasp, “your scars reflect that. They show how hard you fought, and that you survived. You made it through, and stayed the same kind, gentle, loving man that Steve told me stories about when I first joined the team. You’re a warrior, Bucky. And these show that. They’re a part of you, and I think they’re so beautiful for that.”
He doesn’t respond, but looks up at you with eyes filled with love as you lean forward
"You're so beautiful, Bucky. Every inch of you is perfect," you whisper, pressing a kiss to the shell of his ear, "I love you."
He holds your face with both hands, pulling you in for a soft kiss, tender and full of love.
“I love you too.”
#bucky barnes#mcu#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes angst#mcu bucky
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hi jade! may I request about spidergirl and miguel? I missed them so much. maybe that she never experience valentine's? and she didn't expect miguel to do anything since he doesnt seems like the type of romantic guy. BUTTT i dunno I just missed them dearly :(((
ty for requesting !! —miguel surprises his forgetful spidergirl!reader with a small gesture of his affection on Valentine’s Day.
“Like, purpose,” you say, running your fingers over the plush carpeting beneath you. “You have a divine purpose, and I’m your girlfriend.”
“I can’t hear you.”
You raise your face. You can’t see Miguel, his body blocked by the white of the bed sheets in the way. “I’m just whining.”
“Come and whine over here, where I can hear you.”
You like his voice, so you listen. Not because he’s said it very kindly; he’s too bossy. You also like bossy, but that’s not the point. He shouldn’t always get what he wants.
“Do you not like being my girlfriend?” he asks conversationally, his broad back to you as he shakes the frying pan. He’s frying onion and potato for a tortilla española, a thick Spanish omelette made with ample oil. It’s your favourite of his many dishes, your mouth watering as you stand there.
“It’s fine.”
He reaches back for you and grabs at you blindly, though having a spider sense means he’s coordinated regardless. You slide under his arm, can’t believe you’re there —a few months ago he’d glare at you whenever you smiled at him, and now he’s holding you, pressing a slight of a kiss to your temple without a second thought. Though you’re sure now he’d been glaring because he was agitated to have a crush on, back then you’d thought he didn’t like you, which wasn’t half as fun.
Still, you clocked on eventually. People who don’t like someone don’t usually spend so long looking at said someone’s lips.
“Fine isn’t ideal.”
“You’re too clingy,” you say as you curl your arms around him.
“I know,” he murmurs into your skin. “What do you want to drink this morning, mi hermosa?”
You can’t decide. Miguel makes you a tall glass of water, a similar orange juice, and a frankly audacious cup of hot chocolate. It’s thick enough to cling to your spoon as you stir it.
“Alright,” you say as he puts your breakfast plate in front of you, “what did you do? You haven’t been this nice to me in ages.”
“Is that true?” he asks.
He was sort of nice yesterday when he fixed your phone (though you're suspicious he’d only fixed it so you wouldn’t ask one of your Peters), and the night before he’d been angelic, but that was mutually beneficial. You still as he wraps his arms around you from behind, his face pressed to the side of yours, his lips a kind line. You close your eyes and lean back.
A softness touches your other cheek. You peek at it through a squint, tentative, less so when you realise the softness is the petal of a red rose, and the rose belongs to a beautiful bouquet. You breathe out a gasp of awe. The flowers are a stunning dark red and wrapped in glitzy holographic cellophane. You’ve never seen flowers that looked so pretty, petal edges thick and stems a fresh green.
“For you,” he says.
“For me?”
“Mm-hm.” He eases the bouquet into one of your hands. “Happy Valentine’s.”
“Is that today?”
“Yeah, that’s today.” He kisses the corner of your mouth.
You fluster as he stands tall and moves away. Bouquet hugged to your chest, you turn your head to watch his movements carefully. “Miguel, I’m sorry.”
“I’m not, carino.”
He pushes the sleeves of his shirt up and grabs the two bowls left behind on the counter. You can smell the refreshing spice of the peppery gazpacho and the lemon of the salad as he lays it out in front of you. Your stomach growls, but there are more important things to address.
“I had no idea–”
“I hardly expect you to know what hour of the day it is, I wasn’t expecting anything.” He sits down in the chair beside yours at the table.
“So it’s February… interesting.”
Miguel actually laughs as you shove the flowers down and throw yourself at him. “Don’t hurt yourself,” he scolds.
“I love your laugh,” you say, clinging to him for dear life. “I love you, I love your face, I can’t believe you got me flowers, Miguel. Miguel–”
“Don’t act like I never get you anything.”
I just didn’t think you’d do something this romantic, you think. It’s not fair to him. You still have the pencil sharpener he made for you when you’d haunt the workshop unbidden to him. What had he said? Something like Bring it to me when it needs charging. Well, you never remember, and yet it’s never dead. He’s that sort of romantic. “Thank you,” you say.
“Were you still of the idea that I don’t like you very much?” he asks, pulling you into his lap with an unblinking strength. His thighs are solid underneath you.
“Oh, no, O’Hara, you like me too much.”
“Really?” He laughs.
“Really. N’ I like you ten times that much, and,” —he kisses your neck— “that’s why we’re in love.”
He scoffs at your teasing tone, breath tickling the side of your neck. “The longer you sit here trying to apologise the cooler your cocoa gets. Don’t be sorry, yeah? I know you didn’t know.”
“I’m not trying to apologise. I’m mad. You could’ve told me it was Valentine’s coming up but you didn’t. You wanted to make me look bad.”
He hugs you close, arm held firm to the curve of your back. “That’s exactly what I was trying to do. You caught me.”
You lean back. He holds you tight to stop you from falling as you wrestle with the bouquet, pulling one especially lovely rose from the bunch. “Happy Valentine’s, mi vida.”
“That’s cheating, and not even half the effort I put in.”
You press it to his chest and look up at him with every ounce of affection you have for him: it winds him. He covers your hand on his chest, pulling it over his heart.
“Forgive me?” you ask.
He rubs your knuckles. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
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alhaitham almost walks right past you in the hall, too engrossed in whatever he’s reading. it takes you gently grasping his wrist for him to look up, expression brightening briefly before diving right back into his papers.
“is everything okay?” you ask when you notice the knot that’s formed between his brows. “i’ve hardly seen you all day.”
“i’m fine,” he tells you, which lets you know that he’s certainly stressed about something. he sighs, returning the correspondence to the envelope tucked underneath his arm. “i just don’t understand why dehya won’t accept the akademiya’s job offer.”
in his capacity as the acting grand sage, he’s been trying to get her in the akademiya’s employ for weeks, but the mercenary’s been as tough to wear down as the wall of samiel itself. “ah. still having trouble recruiting her?”
“i’ve already offered a generous salary, benefits, a signing bonus, even a housing stipend. she’d practically be working side by side with the general mahamatra.”
“well, working with the matra means she’d have to spend a great deal of time in sumeru city,” you point out. “that’s probably something she doesn’t prefer.”
“why not?” he asks (because while your man is smart beyond belief, he can be a little dense sometimes). “we have everything here.”
“that’s true, but we’re also quite far from aaru village,” you say slowly, hoping he picks up on what you’re implying.
“i appreciate the geography lesson, but that doesn’t help me figure out how to hire–”
“i was trying to be obscure,” you press, drawing a breath. “because being in sumeru full-time means that she’ll have to spend time away from candace.”
he stares at you blankly, waiting for you to elaborate.
“haitham–” you say, pressing your hands together and glancing around quickly to confirm no one is within earshot. “dehya and candace are knocking boots.”
he seems taken aback by what you’ve just whispered, pausing in his stride to process it. “wait, what?”
“it’s an old expression from mondstadt that means–”
“i’m familiar with the expression. i’m just asking why you’re so positive that they are having… relations.”
“because i just know. they have crazy chemistry. nilou sees it too.”
“do either of you have evidence?”
you hesitate. “no…”
“then you’re not positive. you’re only speculating.”
“i’m not speculating,” you insist with a pout, crossing your arms over your chest. “i just know–”
“oh, like you just knew that kaveh was only going to stay with me for less than a month?”
“that’s different,” you argue. so what if kaveh’s been staying at alhaitham’s for more than six months? that was due to various, independent factors that had nothing to do with you. “but the way they are around each other–”
“gossip is an unreliable source of information,” he says flatly. alhaitham, as a rule, did not deign to entertain gossip. it was a premise built upon the unsteady grounds of conjecture, and he could not care less to waste his time surmising about other people’s personal lives.
“but–”
“therefore, your advice is redundant.”
you take the files from under his arm, reaching up and smacking him on the back of the head with them. “my advice is always relevant. you can trust me on this.”
alhaitham adjusts his headphones with a sigh, a pained but contemplative look on his face. He knows you’re right, and he knows that he’s hit a wall with this proposal. “fine. i will utilize your…advice, to adjust my proposal.”
“that’s what i like to hear.”
the two of you continue walking in silence, yours smug and his pensive. then, after a moment,
“you realize you just hit the acting grand sage, right?”
“oh please, you don’t scare me.” you meet his amused stare with open defiance, getting up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his jaw, then his cheek, and finally his lips. “and when dehya accepts this job proposal, i can think of a few ways you can repay me.”
_____
“you want to offer me what?”
“you heard me,” alhaitham shrugs, leaning back in his plush desk chair. “the akademiya is willing to offer you compensation of up to ten thousand gold for any and all travel between sumeru city and aaru village.”
alhaitham may be in charge of the entire nation at the moment, but he doesn’t quite feel like it when dehya is in the room. she leans forward, resting her elbows atop the highly important documents on his desk as she stares at him. “why would you do that?”
“so you can stay in contact with your loved ones.”
the mercenary scoffs at that. “alhaitham, come on. i know you’ve done your research. i don’t have any family in aaru village.”
moment of truth.
“i was actually referring to…significant others.”
dehya’s brows raise in surprise.
_____
when he returns that night, the first thing alhaitham does when he joins you in bed is take the patient files from your hands and place them on the nightstand.
you frown, reaching for them. “i wasn’t done with those.”
he doesn’t argue with you, instead climbing on top of you and caging you against the bed, a knee pushed between your legs. he merely chuckles when you push at his chest, cause you’re not really trying.
he simply chases after you, and any fight you had to get back to your work dissipates when he presses his lips to yours.
“oh…” you sigh, quickly looping your arms around him to drag him closer, patting your lips to let him deepen the kiss. you gasp when he moves down to press kisses to your shoulder, slowly trailing more up your neck, your jaw, the shell of your ear.
“dehya must have accepted the offer then,” you breathe, your eyes beginning to flutter shut.
“part time only,” he murmurs. “but she signed on.”
you hook your leg around his waist, grinning “oh, so i was…what’s the word?”
he nips at your ear in reprimand, only making you laugh as he mutters, you were right, under his breath.
“oh, don’t pout, baby,” you tease, hands roaming the well sculpted planes of his chest. “let’s just—"
“if you say ‘knock boots,’ i’m going to leave you here and sleep on the couch.”
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HELL IS A (FUCKING) ROOMMATE. JORDAN LI.
synopsis ; your roommate has the libido of a goddamn animal and it's driving you insane. not to mention the fact they have an annoying habit of jerking off in your dorm. to you.
they want you? fine—they can have you. only on your terms, though.
✗ warnings ; dom!reader, sub!jordan. fem!reader, perv!roomate!jordan, dubcon, voyeurism, excessive masturbation (soz). wc ; 4.2k
YOU can do this. you can do this.
you grunt as you fumble for the key. cursing as, with an extreme lack of coordination—you begin to forcibly ram the bloody thing into the lock with the grace and precision of a sledgehammer. what you lack in motor control you make up for with inner beauty—or something.
the do not disturb sign rattles mockingly off the handle, meaning your roommate is definitely inside and definitely not helping out. you grit your teeth, entire body off kilter as you're preoccupied with balancing the boxes cramful of belongings in your arms; big and bulky and absolutely not helping your aim. you curse, loudly as they almost almost tumble out of your grasp the moment the key miraculously jams into place, jerking wildly to catch them. (note: super strength does not come with super-hand-eye-coordination.)
“fucking– stupid- key– fucking better– woah!”
without warning, the door swings open, inwards. a montage of your entire life flits before your eyes as you hurtle forward, boxes and all. you just about barely manage to catch yourself with an undignified stumble before drawing yourself up; coming face to face with—oh.
two figures. bodies very noticeably.. inside. each other. naked. on, what you realise after a bout of disbelief; your fucking bed.
"what the fuck?"
one of them growls, mop of black hair flopping as their head snaps up, even though you're pretty sure you should be the one slinging expletives around. with a frustrated scowl they pull out of the dude, sending a withering glare to the poor guy they were fucking into the bedspread—to which he.. disappears? glitches out? phases out of existence? because suddenly he’s not there anymore, and you’re stranded alone with a very attractive, very threatening looking college student.
who is also—uh, very, very naked.
“um, hi–”
“why do you have a key to my fucking dorm?”
oh, shit.
they are, frankly, gorgeous – like, one of the most beautiful people you've ever seen. their hair is black, mussed, and you can’t help the way your gaze follows its way down the threshold of an.. extremely muscled, slick torso before snapping upwards to find a mildly paralysing glare that reminds yourself that you are not in a very good position right now.
“i’m uh- your new.. roommate?'' you don't mean for it to come out like a question, but by the way they're staring down at you like you're a cockroach that just flew onto their windshield, you almost aren't so sure.
"i'm a fucking TA— i don't have roommates." their eyes narrow, which is like—alright, way to be real welcoming.
“i’m a.. last minute transfer..?” you offer, wincing as you meet their stare. their eyes are unflinching, yet still lidded in a post-sex haze. you can feel your body involuntarily holding its breath; though from the steel in their gaze or the way their biceps flex when they run a hand through their dishevelled locks, you can’t tell.
fuck, you hate hot people.
“oh, yeah. fuck, i forgot about that.” their shoulders slacken, mouth settling into an unimpressed line; which is only slightly more welcoming than the look of murderous intent of two seconds ago. “jordan. jordan li." they say, last name and all—which is how you know they're a prick. "make yourself at home, i guess.” they don’t sound all too enthused as they skirt away from the door, seemingly satisfied with the fact that you're not a home invader—dorm invader? whatever. you just pray that the sigh of relief you breathe isn’t audible.
“great! nice to meet you, i’m–”
“s’on the sheet." jordan cuts in with supreme disinterest as they move across the room, leaning down to pick their boxers from the floor. you’re struck once again with the realisation that they are still fucking naked, and you pointedly tear your eyes away.
“um, yeah.. hey, uh—what’s your-”
“third year, crime-fighting. don't touch my shit. no pets, obviously. if you have a dog, get rid of it. give it to the animal shelter, don’t care. don’t snoop, don't make a mess, and definitely don’t take off the goddamn do not disturb sign. got it?”
you've barely opened your mouth to reply; probably with something along the lines of what the fuck? or animal shelter? before jordan's already turned away, back muscles flexing as they sink back onto the end of their bed, scrunching their briefs up in one hand and—
“hey, uh,” jordan interjects, turning round with an unreadable expression as they glance down, and like a fucking idiot, you follow; giving you front row seat to the massive, throbbing boner that they’re still sporting—pulsing an angry, flushed red as the tip drools with precum.
“mind if i take care of this? couldn’t exactly finish, if you know what i—”
you slam the door after you, and you swear a snicker follows you down the corridor.
-
over the next week, it quickly becomes apparent that jordan either a): forgets you live in the same room as them, or b): simply does not care.
for starters, there’s their apparent aversion to doing laundry until their entire closet is out of commission, the coke stash underneath their mattress and also—oh. their need to get their dick wet at least four times a day. (irrespective of whether they have a dick or not).
“what?” jordan scoffs through a mouthful of cereal. “‘m not lettin’ some fuckin’ freshie cockblock me.”
“i’m a transfer, not a fucking freshman.” you scowl, and jordan’s lips curl to form a lazy little ‘o’. it twitches upwards into that infuriating little smirk, like they enjoy seeing you squirm.
“whatever. my libido stops for nobody, not even you. besides,” they set their bowl on the bedside table, wagging their fingers suggestively into a ‘V’ shape and licking the air between. "a bigender supe has needs too."
they’re slouching against their headboard, free arm stretching lazily above their head. your cheeks flush traitorously as their biceps flex—muscles visibly popping against their frame “you can just say 'a girl has needs'. i'm not an idiot, i know what you mean." is what you grumble back, if only to ignore the inane, stupid heat pooling in the pit of your stomach.
"but i have needs when i'm a dude, too." jordan grins, propping themselves up by their elbow, eyes gleaming impishly as they curl their hand into a fist and making a fucking wanking motion over their (currently) non-existent dick. which is—yeah. that pretty much sums up your roommate for you.
the thing is about jordan, is despite all their excessive lockerroom talk and relatively abrasive personality; they’re still rank two in all of godolkin. ergo, they’re a surprisingly busy person; being preoccupied with either studying, sparring or partying ninety of the time.
thus, like all horny, single college students, when you don’t have time to squeeze a good fuck in, you’re left with second-best option—yourself. this would otherwise be fine, except jordan’s compound v must have seeped through their bloodstream and into their libido because jesus fucking christ are they horny.
it’s not like they make an effort of hiding it, either. they seem to have zero qualms about rolling out of bed, morning wood popping out from their briefs like a fucking beacon.
“oh, shit,” jordan yawns when slide the covers off, giving way to the immense boner throbbing against their boxer-briefs. they don’t even have the decency to look sheepish when they walk past you, adjusting themselves lazily. you don’t miss the grunt of relief that escapes them as their hand palms their crotch before they disappear into the bathroom, either. or the little groans of relief that sound behind the door before they saunter out, towelling their hands with the stupidest grin on their face.
it shouldn’t piss you off as much as it does, except for the fact that even when jordan rouses without morning wood (or wood in general); they end up making their usual bathroom trip anyways. noises slipping from a half-ajar door and toilet lid left slippery, as always.
they have to be doing it on purpose. they have to be. like, they left their strap-on on your desk once. which, first of all, gross. second of all, why was it so fucking big?
“jordan!” you holler, aghast as you nudge the thing on your desk, conveniently placed right next to your laptop.
“oh! that’s where i left it. sick.” jordan grins as they saunter over, veined hands reaching over to wrap around the shiny, plastic length and fuck, since when were their palms so massive—
“thanks, roomie.” they ruffle your hair with an impish glint in their eyes, smile only growing when you jerk away with a scowl.
and that’s not even the worst of it.
“oh, shit—was that yours?” to their credit, jordan looks somewhat sheepish as they pinch a rock-hard pair of socks off the floor. your fucking socks, which have clearly been well-loved and cared for in places other than your shoes.
“those were my favourite!” they weren’t your favourites. they’re socks. however, it makes jordan wince, which almost makes it worth it.
hey, a little remorse is better than nothing.
“..i’ll buy you a new pair?” jordan offers, scratching the nape of their neck. you’re almost content to let the awkwardness linger just give them just a piece of the torture you’ve been subjected to for the past several weeks — except the sliver of satisfaction is completely negated by the way jordan’s lip twitches upwards, like they’re fighting back a smirk.
“you little fuck—“
anyways, the point is jordan wanks. a lot.
you can’t stop thinking about it. because it’s annoying. and disrespectful. and god, do they think you want to hear every pretty little moan that falls from their mouth? every grunt and groan that slips from their throat in that raspy, godforsaken timber—
long story short; if you have to find a wadded up sock or sticky residue at the bottom of the computer desk one more time, you’re going to lose it.
you think jordan knows it, too.
-
it’s midnight when you wake up to the sound of a bed creaking.
you’re an early sleeper, jordan isn’t. it works. you’re typically long knocked out before they even make it back in the dorm, out there doing god knows what. today, though, you’d far overestimated your ability to finish your latest assignment; so when jordan finally staggered through the door, slumping into bed with a little grunt, you thought nothing of it.
minutes pass, and the bed shifts. jordan groans. under the moonlight you can see the shadowed visage of their figure, splayed out on their bed with one hand underneath the covers; moving, repeatedly.
jordan grunts again, and you squint; bleary eyes adjusting to the darkness. the muffled, wet sound of slapping resounds, subdued by the weight of the blanket. if you didn’t know better, you’d think they were—
“mm, fuck—” jordan moans, blanket slipping down their hips and—oh my fucking god.
like pulling back a curtain, jordan’s cock springs enthusiastically to the surface; standing tall and proud as their fist pumps up and down the thick, veined girth of their length. it’s practically pulsating with need, bordering on desperate—they must be desperate, because jordan’s shameless, sure, but.. jacking off in the same room as you?
you didn’t think they were that much of a fucking perv.
but maybe you’re a perv too, because the moment jordan’s hips rock upwards and their tip glimmers in a thick sheen of pre-cum; you can feel the telltale surge of heat in your stomach, the fabric of your panties dampening and oh, this can’t seriously be happening right now.
“fuck—motherfucker..” jordan hisses, drawing your bleary-eyed gaze from the flushed, throbbing bob of their cock to their pink cheeks and fucked-out face, mouth lolling in pleasure. they twist their head, nosing into something tossed onto their pillow that makes you stop in their tracks.
that’s.. you thought you lost that!
“need ‘m—so—fucking bad..” jordan slurs stiltedly, nuzzling into your shirt like their life depends on it. “fuckin’—stupid fucking—”
your stomach tightens, and you can’t help it when your fingers dip down under your shorts, slipping into your cunt. you should be mad, should be disgusted, should be shoving open the door and ripping them out of their covers and.. wrapping your mouth around their adorably flushed tip? seizing their hips and yanking their cock into your tight, wet little—
"oh, fuck," jordan interrupts your thought process by growling through their teeth, precum spilling from the slit of their dick and glazing their palms. there’s so much of it, so wet that even in the dark you can see the stain pooling in their sweatpants, their bedsheets.
you’re so entranced you barely even register when it when their grip releases; length arcing and splattering thick ropes of cum against their abdomen. the sight is so mesmerising that you almost don’t pick up on the sound of your fucking name that tears out of their throat—husky and half gargled as jordan’s chest heaves. you don’t even realise you’ve been holding your breath until jordan’s figure simply lays there, pants echoing in the silent room.
they wrap your shirt around their dick and wipe it clean. it’s only when they murmur something unintelligible—burying their nose back into your jumper that you finally, finally turn away, fingers curling deep inside your cunt.
fucking hell.
-
the second time it happens, you are wide, wide awake. which unfortunately means you have no excuse for the minutes seared into your memory and sticky residue on your thighs.
granted, at first you didn’t know. as always, the bathroom door hangs carelessly agape. steam curls from the room, wafting up and dispersing in the stuffy dorm air. what lingers, however, is the fresh note of jordan’s shampoo, body wash, and something.. saltier, headier.
whatever. with nothing more than an arched brow, you pick over the discarded basketball shorts and tank tops that litter the floor, intending to kick the bathroom door shut and be on your way. it’s when your hand reaches out, closing around the cool metal that you see it.
jordan’s slumped against the slick shower wall, fingers buried knuckle-deep into their pussy.
oh, shit shit shit—
“shit..” jordan hisses, muscles working like well-oiled sprigs as they pump into their cunt, droplets of water trickling down their skin and pooling into the divots of their body.
your hand tightens around the doorknob. god, their moans.. if they think the sound of the showerhead can disguise the filthy nothings spilling out of their mouth, they are very, very wrong.
somewhere between the fuck’s and annoying’s and pretty fuckin’ prude’s their full-weight crumples against the shower wall, plush ass pressing up against steaming glass like some (high-quality) porn ad as they ram their fingers in one last time, free hand shooting out wildly to grasp at nothing before the shower wall splatters with something you only catch a glimpse of before you’re slamming the bathroom door, cheeks burning and fingers trembling. with a start, you realise you’ve almost wrenched the goddamn metal off.
the doorknob is always a little bit loose, after that.
-
you’re getting ready for a party.
well, you’re supposed to be getting ready for a party, hence the sultry eyeshadow, glossy press of your lips and sheer amount of skin laid bare. your crop-top is just a little bit too high, mini-skirt more than a little too short.
in reality? you’re enacting your fucking vegeance.
jordan likes you. it’s a fact that stares you right in the face. and if not a crush, it’s a massive, raging hard-on. for you—only you—citing a certain roommate’s post-nut ramblings you’ve heard one too many times.
as it turns out, jordan becomes considerably less insufferable when you know you’re the only thing that gets their dick wet.
“how do i look?” you call, doing a little twirl. it’s impossible to keep the smirk off your face, skirt flipping very purposely upwards as you spin, revealing a tad more than they ever (usually) get to see.
jordan glances up, and their breath fucking hitches.
bingo.
“what?” you cock your head, lashes batting innocuously as they stare. playing the oblivious role is just too sweet, especially when your eyes flicker down, just for a moment, and you can see the bulge in their sweatpants growing.
poor little jordan, hard because their roommate flashed a millisecond of ass.
“you look—good.” they grunt, tone carefully measured. their gaze lingers, only for another moment before they abruptly snap their vision back to their screen. an admirable effort, really. if only their cheeks were a little less red, cock a little less needy.
“well don’t flatter me too much,” you twist away, lips twitching upwards. feigning normalcy is easy, seeing as how you’ve been doing so ever since that first night. you're practically buzzing with anticipation when you make a big show of leaving the room, snarky comment and all.
and really, jordan could've waited for longer than two minutes before moaning that raspy, broken moan (you're so intimately familiar with) from behind the door.
your lips split into a grin, and when you slide the door back open, the look on jordan's face is so priceless you hope it'll be seared into your memory forever.
“shit!"
it’s undeniable, this time. you’re no longer a fly on the wall, and they’re no longer blanketed by the illusion of secrecy; caught red-handed with their cock in their fist and head on your pillow.
“wait—fuck—i can expl—!”
like clockwork, jordan's cock twitches as if in reaction, and a drop of fresh semen spurts from their tip before trickling down to join the messy puddle on their stomach.
“i thought—fuck! you said you were going!”
“that doesn’t sound like an apology to me.”
you delight in the way jordan flushes, their breath hitching. they take a ragged breath before they make a valiant attempt to cover up their falter with aggression. "doesn't mean anything," they retort through gritted teeth, mustering up as much conviction as they can.
it’s adorable, how much they pretend they don’t want you as if they don’t jack off to the smell of your sweatshirt every night.
“shut the fuck up.” you roll your eyes, novelty of the movement finally wearing thin. you have needs too—and with a fluid movement, you slide onto the bed and yank their hips against yours, pulling them into a straddle over your torso.
jordan can't help but hiss at the sudden contact, hips jerking instinctively. "fuck, you're cold," they mutter under their breath, though there's no denying the thrill running through them; hips bucking forward into the touch of your cool fingers as they wrap around their hard member. it feels euphoric—the contrast between your heat and coldness heightening every single nerve ending in their body. the tip of their cockhead brushing against your belly button, dripping a thin line of hot, sticky fluid after it.
“go on.” you coo, eyebrows raised.
jorda’s hands fly almost immediately to the hem of your skirt. so eager, like an impatient puppy.
before you curl your hand around their wrist, grip firm and punishing.
they freeze, head cocking like a confused puppy. “huh?” they say, biting back a noise of complaint. they want you so bad its goddamn gruelling; their fingers twitching around nothing, screaming in impatience, let me fuck you, let me ruin you already. don’t you know how long i’ve been waiting? how long you’ve kept me fucking waiting?
of course you know. they don’t know that, though.
“you’re not gonna do anything?” despite all their irritating, fratboy-esque bravado; jordan’s unable to prevent the whininess from seeping into their tone, hands tugging insistently at the hem of your skirt. their cock pulses, painful and needy.
“you have hands, don’t you?” your lips quirk at the way jordan’s expression drops and their mouth opens again, probably to protest until you yank their thighs open and press them forward, dick pressing flush against your torso.
"unnhnnngh.." jordan grunts, gasping for air while trying to maintain eye contact with you—an impossible task considering how goddamn desperate they are. their free hand grabs hold of your waist, grinding sloppily as precum spurts all over your chest. “f-fuck off," they hiss, lips crashing against yours, teeth knocking at their eagerness.
“goddamn tease—” they groan, rutting against your torso, to no avail. they bury their face into your collar, utterly miserable, fingers twisting into the hem of your shirt. “just get the fuck on with it—ahnnn.. f-fuck—”
“so mouthy,” you tease, delighted at the mewl that slips past jordan’s lips when your hand wraps around their tip. their chain necklace swings wildly, bucking their hips desperately into your fist.
“hands feel so fuckin’ good,” jordan sputters, drooling almost as much as their dick is. their fumbling grasp finds purchase in your shoulders as they pump themselves into your hand; you barely even have to move, with them doing most of the work.
“need to be— inside—“ jordan grunts; glassy eyes blinking down at you like it’ll change your mind just like that. it’s cute, how they look when they’re not scowling or fucking smirking at you. it’s even cuter, the way they inhale sharply when you shake your head and deliver a cool “no, baby,” their back arching when you cup one of their balls and squeeze, forced into dismal acceptance with a keening whine.
jordan’s movements are getting unsteady, now. eyes glazing over by the second. “y’gonna make me cum,” they slur, grip on your hips tightening. it only takes a moment before their movements stutter and they’re muttering “fuck fuck fuck oh, fuck!“ and a long, gargled moan rips from their throat and all of a sudden hands wrapped around cock are sinking in wet, sloppy heat; your fingers sliding knuckle-deep into their pussy with almost breath-taking ease.
“jesus christ!” jordan croons in sheer, unexpected pleasure as they feel you shove yourself inside them, cum spurting and squeezing out helplessly from between their walls and your fingers. they squirt so fucking messily, their leaking cock replaced by a cunt spilling out out all over your palm.
“i didn’t—didn’t mean to—” they slur, panic two steps behind their mouth. struggling to sling anything coherent together with you kneading your fingers into their pussy like its goddamn putty. “oh?” you arch a brow, and jordan visibly flushes, moaning openly when your digits curl.
“can’t–don’t really—”
“what? fuck yourself?” is your reply, because you both know they fucking do; it’s not like you don’t how their pussy sounds when it’s sliding slick against their pillow, how your name sounds cried out, thick through the muzzle of your jumper.
it’s a dual guilty pleasure—you watch, they do. at this point, you can’t tell who’s the more perverted out of the two of you.
jordan. definitely jordan.
“too busy humping my clothes, is that it?” you purr, and jordan honest to god whimpers, squirming away from your fingers both out of overstimulation and plaintive shame. “ah, ah,” you tut, nails digging into their hips as you hold them in place, finger thumbing harshly against their clit as they cry out a gargled moan.
“f-fuck off—” jordan hisses, practically an admission of guilt itself. they seem to know it, too, with the way they abandon all pretence and pound violently against your knuckles—their gaze burning into yours like they’re daring you to say another word. “don’t act like you didn’t—shit—fucking like it.” jordan gasps out between sputters, teetering on the edge of another orgasm.
“hm?” you pause, eyes meeting jordan’s heated, quivering stare. “jerk off to watching me?” they choke, eyes glossing over when you thrust “did you fuck yourself to my—mmhnn—!”
an easy, all-too-familiar eye roll graces your face before you shut them up with your fingers. their pussy clenches; hot, slippery walls gripping your digits as if afraid to let go. oh, this is too easy.
“don’t get cute with me, roomie.” the nickname tastes sweet on your tongue, and jordan’s face grows hotter. a well-timed thumb to their clit flickers their bravado out like a light. “fucking hell!” they gasp, mouth gaping into a moan and eyes rolling back into their skull.
“you wanted me to watch, didn’t you?” you coo, and jordan squirms; mouth open in protest—or at least attempts at them, what with the way they keep gasping out in pleasure as you roll your fingers against their clit.
“shut the fuck—i didn’t—”
“a pervert and a liar now, are we?”
jordan makes a noise somewhere between a hiss and a whine, crying out when you slide two more fingers into the slick canal of their core. their eyes screw shut, hands seizing so wildly into the mattress you almost think they’re about to tear a hole through the bedsheets.
“god! fuck—i can’t—”
they cry out your name when they cum, and even if its a sound you’ve heard countless times by now you don’t think it’ll ever get old. “that’s it, baby.” you coo, lips curling upwards at the way they bury their face into your collar.
they lie there, panting, for what feels like forever before a muffled, half-delusional groan leaves their lips.
“oh, fuuuckk..”
“what?”
“..i thought i would top.”
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Final blow- Mattheo Riddle x reader
Mattheo Riddle oneshot; including a classic wizarding duel, tension filled atmosphere, and a cute ending <3 (SFW)
“For our next duel, I’m asking Mattheo Riddle and Miss Y/n to please step up onto the platform”
The words from professor Snape echoed through the duelling practice room, and as of right now everyone was staring at you two. It didn’t come as a shock to you when you were picked. Both of you were pretty much on the same level, with the exception of course that you had way less of an ego than Mattheo.
Defense against the dark arts was your favorite subject, especially when it came to doing hands on things. Duelling just happened to be one of your favorite things to practice. The tougher the opponent, the sweeter the victory, you believed. With Mattheo, you had to make sure that you would fight till the last moment, and to not go down without a proper fight.
“C’mon, go up!”, your friends encourage you, “You got this!”. They all believed in you, and told you that your chances were good, making you feel more secure in your skills. Through all the encouragement you got, you start moving towards where the showdown would take place.
As you go up, you look at Mattheo, who seemed confident to say the least. He knows he’s good and everyone else knows it too. Moreover, all the quidditch training certainly gave him a strong and muscular body to work with.
Before the duel begins, you scan the crowd one more time for looks and chants of support. “MAKE US RAVENCLAWS PROUD!”, you hear someone yelling amidst all the people. That you were extremely thankful for, since you could really use all the positive reassurance you could get. You quickly say thank you back to the crowd.
At the same time, the Slytherins must’ve seen this as another competition and started yelling all sorts of things in support of their representative too. Together, they sure looked like a mean bunch.
“YOU GOT THIS MATTHEO!”, his friend Blaise hollers loudly. Draco, right after, shouts out “YEAHH, DESTROY HER!”.
What a gentleman you mutter to yourself, and Mattheo must’ve heard it because you hear a slight chuckle escaping his mouth.
“Nervous”, he quietly asks you.
“Not at all”, you respond in the most self assured manner that you can muster.
He himself didn’t look nervous at all, but rather excited to have a “play partner”. Frankly you weren’t either, but you also knew that going up against him wouldn’t be easy.
Mattheo keeps looking you in the eye with a slight grin, so to match his energy, you hold eye contact with him too and make sure that your posture is straight. If you don’t look capable from the beginning, you are never going to make it to the end.
To commence this duel at last, Snape retells the rules of combat and announces that “only magical acts can be used as a form of offense or defense. You may disarm or harm your opponent, but must not seriously injure them.” Otherwise Madam Pomfrey would surely throw another fit at you “immature rascals”.
You were counting on disarming Mattheo to be your tactic. His fatal flaw was, noting from your past observations, being too aggressive, and not fully protecting himself. Besides that, he was flawless.
All eyes on you guys now, you start off by bowing to each other to pay your respects. “Good luck”, he whispers to you while you’re on eye level. “Same to you”, you reply, to make him know that you weren’t scared.
As Snape was counting down from three, you calmed yourself down once again, telling yourself that it would be fine. When Snape reaches the final number three, Mattheo immediately goes into the offense and casts several stunning spells, which you block with your shielding spell. You had practiced that one so often, that you could confidently utilize it at any given time. Mattheo keeps trying to push you back further. One after another, his attacking spells are blasted at you. And one after another you block them. It was a back and forth dance between you two, neither one of you budging yet.
He came alarmingly close though. One of his spells had caught your shoulder, sending an electrifying shock through your body. Another one had hit your torso straight like a bullet. That one had caused you the most pain. You grunted and held your hand over the wounded area, but it was still bearable. You just had to fight through the pain.
Both of you kept going, at this point recognizing that victory wouldn’t come easily to either one of you. Mattheo, looking forward to making things a little more playful, cheekily calls out “holding up pretty well for someone like you”. You knew he was trying to get you off of your game by sounding condescending. He was well aware of your capabilities. Therefore you clap back by saying “that shouldn’t come as a surprise, and you’re not as good as you think you are”.
Having said that, you hear a few murmurs amongst the students. Snape takes the time to remind you to keep the personal bashing to yourselfs until the duel is resolved. Mattheo seems to take it quite personally though, now casting out especially aggressive spells.
Even by then you are able to hold up, but there was still no opportunity to really harm him. The back and forth kept going to the point where neither of you saw an end to this.
After a while, having been so concentrated on defending yourself and managing your pain, you hadn’t even looked at Mattheo anymore to see how he was doing. You just saw his spells shooting at you. So, when you finally did look, you noticed that Mattheo was getting a little riled up himself and losing his edge. He always tries to keep his cool, to not show any signs of weakness. Yet, there you were, taking hit after hit, and not backing down. It made him frustrated to see his efforts not meeting his expectations.
After more exchanges of non sufficient spells, you are getting way too tired, and you decide it’s time to put this exhausting duel to an end. You just had to wait for the perfect moment.
In Mattheo’s mind, he was also just waiting for the perfect moment, hoping for you to retreat.
When you glance at the audience again for just a second, you see the gawking mouths of some of the Slytherins. Instantly, it boosts your confidence. If even they were stunned by you, then all was going right, and you knew you got this. If you could really defeat Mattheo, his ego was probably going to be bruised for a good several days at least.
Between further dodging spells, and shielding yourself, it was really difficult to find the perfect moment, though you had a feeling it would come soon enough. Mattheo was getting even more frustrated. His spells weren’t as accurate anymore. His arm was losing strength and going a little limp. And most important of all, his confidence became tainted.
While trying to catch his breath for a second, Mattheo simultaneously lowers his arm. During that one scarce moment, you decide to deliver the final blow.
“EXPELLIARMUS!”, you call out. Everyone’s eyes were wide open, seeing exactly as the spell hit Mattheo, causing his wand to fly across the platform, all the way into your hand. You catch it with precision, and watch his look of disbelief. You couldn’t even fully believe it yourself. He was done for.
“Wanna wave the white flag now?”, you cheekily ask him now, as he’s still trying to catch his breath. It was a little mean, but he could handle it.
Mattheo still can’t believe what just happened based on the look on his face. You see him scrunching his eyebrows, and mouth hanging wide open.
Although he knows he’s got nothing left, he still replies with “never”.
“As you wish”, you say with a wide grin, because in the next second, your final spell sent him flying across the room. Mattheo falls off of the duelling platform at the end, all the way onto the ground.
As his body hit the hard floor, all students from every house, except the Slytherins of course, started cheering for you. You felt as if you were on cloud nine hearing all their chants. Your heart was still beating rapidly, as if it was going to explode any second. A little part of you can’t believe that you just sent Mattheo flying across the platform, but the bigger part was gloating with pride.
You watch Mattheo prop himself up and walk back onto the platform to go up to you. He warmly, to your surprise, meets your gaze and brings out his hand to shake yours.
“Looks like you didn’t need luck after all”, he congratulates you. You’re taken aback for a second because this behavior of him wasn’t what you expected at all. He clearly notices and goes on to say “I rarely lose, but when I do I try not to be a sore loser”.
When he goes to his friends, he turns back and winks at you with a smirk plastered on his face. Winning was already quite the event, but Mattheo being a perfect gentleman weirdly made your insides churn.
…
You wait for everyone to leave the room after enough duelling was done for the morning. The reason was because you saw, from the corner of your eye, that Mattheo was also taking his time. You didn’t even know exactly why you were waiting for him.
Not that it was your planned intention, but you decide to go up to him and tell him that it was a great, although stressful, duel. Perhaps that would fuel some kind of conversation.
“No need to gloat”, he throws back at you. He didn’t sound all too happy, and maybe he did take the loss stronger than he showed at first. Your mind starts to spin and look for kind words. You definitely didn’t mean to insult him, so you quickly stutter out
“No- that’s not what I-”
Before you could finish that jumbled sentence though, he chuckles out loud, his eyes giving you a look of sympathy. His entire demeanor has changed now, the upset look from before just having been a facade.
“Chill, I was just kidding”, he cheerfully says. Seconds later he adds “You won fair and square, I’m actually really impressed with you”. It sounded like he meant it genuinely.
That compliment wasn’t something you expected. Relieved at his relaxed attitude, you choose to go along with his joking manner and respond with “I’m definitely going to hold that over your head forever”.
That earned you yet another precious chuckle from him. His laugh was truly contagious because shortly after you start laughing too. You had actually never expected that talking with Mattheo could feel so carefree and fun.
“Y’know I actually thought you were a lot more arrogant”, you honestly admitted to him during your talk. As far as the truth went, this was it. You could see that it had certainly been a little presumptuous of you to assume that about him.
“Well that’s because you don’t really know me and make pointless assumptions, but I don’t blame you”, he boldly calls you out on your prejudices too.
Perhaps he wasn’t as bad as you imagined, but definitely still cocky.
Suddenly he puts his hand on your shoulder, which makes you jerk back at first. The sudden contact just came as a surprise. He also takes notice, but when he sees that you don’t mind after the initial shock, he just kept it there. “So, wanna get out of here?”, he suggested. “We could talk and you could get to know me better”, Mattheo proposes, obviously referring to your previous statement.
“Well, how can I say no to that”, you comply while flashing him a gentle smile.
And with that, both of you leave the room, with Mattheo’s hand still wrapped around your shoulders.
#harry potter#oneshot#slytherin#slytherin boys#fanfic#mattheo riddle#ravenclaw#drabble#wizarding world#harry potter oneshot#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle oneshot
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