#fully understand to a new and surprising realization

[piboss-314]

The Meaning of Enconsciate

To bring all facets together yielding a new and fully comprehensive realization. Fully understanding a concept, particularly when you hadn’t previously. I required a word as this many times in conversation and thought, thus this word.

[mwphisto]

LIs comforting MC with astraphobia? <:]

I have a really bad fear of thunder... Lighting, too, but the thunder is the worst part.

We've got a pretty bad storm right now, and while I was hiding under the covers I tried to think, 'How would they react?'

I figured you might have some brain sparks on it.

I feel like all around the five of them would take it seriously and figure out ways to keep you comfortable during the storm!

Xavier would initially be surprised when he sees how scared you get when the first crack of thunder rumbles the sky. He’ll question if you are alright “did it catch you off guard or—“ before he can even finish, another rumble hits and your covering your ears with a small whimper. “—it’s okay, I’m right here.” He stops asking questions immediately, hugging you to his chest and resting his chin on top of your head. He might not be loud enough to fully block out the sound, but he’ll start to hum, turn the tv up a little, even glance around to see if he has some headphones within reach to block out the sound.

Rafayel initially starts to tease you. Though, don’t hold it against him, he thought you just got surprised and reacted in such a way. It’s not until he sees tears gleaming in your eyes as you press your hands to your ears that he realizes it’s a genuine fear. “Hey, hey… it’s okay…” he’s kneeling down beside you, hands moving to touch yours but you only hug them tighter to your head. “You’re scared of the storm?” A feeble nod, and he watches you brace for impact as lightning illuminates his studio. “Why didn’t you say something so—“ but the crack of thunder has you letting out a scared squeak, eyes squeezing shut as he cradles you to his body. “It’s alright, it’ll be over soon. You’ve got me right here with you, yeah?”

Zayne is reminded of your phobia the second the lightning streaks across the sky. Mid-appointment and the two of you lock eyes, Zayne’s heart aching as genuine fear blossoms across your face. “You’ve still got that—“ it’s meant to be sympathetic, a gateway to ask what he can do to help you through this, but the thunder rattles the entire hospital and he watches you flinch and curl in on yourself. Before you can open your eyes, Zayne is scooping you up, hugging you tightly and carrying you over to his couch. “It looks like it will be a short storm, but in the mean time, tell me about your day.” He holds you through it, trying to distract you through the whole thing.

Sylus doesn’t ask any questions, perfectly understanding your reaction to the sudden thunder and deciding not to push you on the subject. Right now, his main objective is comforting you and helping you through the next unknown amount of minutes. “How about this?” Sylus leaves you on the couch briefly, setting a new record on his player and turning it up to max volume. Between the music filling the space and the roaring fireplace, the storm beyond his windows is considerably muffled. Still, he returns to your side and pulls you close, one ear is pressed to his chest, the other is pressed over your ear. He cradles you to his body, humming to add some extra noise and effectively drown out most of the raging storm.

Caleb never forgot your fear, and is more than prepared to get you through it. He can recall from childhood the amount of times he’d find you huddled somewhere, hands pressed to your ears while you sniffle and try and be brave. Yeah, no. You don’t need to be brave when he’s around. He can do that for you. So it’s no shock that at the first flash of lightening, Caleb is slipping some headphones over your head and smiling sweetly. “Just try and take a nap, pip. Relax with me.” A gentle tug and you’re falling into his arms, one of your favorite playlists filling your head with sound and effectively blocking out everything else. A gentle kiss on your forehead and you’re relaxing, when Caleb is around, you really don’t have anything to fear.

[enhani-ki]

pacify her - reader x ni-ki

warnings: smut, nsfw, cursing, kinda sadistic (?), etc.

you were sitting on the floor, hunched over your notebook as you tried to solve the last few problems of your homework. ni-ki sat beside you, watching with mild interest then tried to help you.

but that interest quickly faded when he realized he can't do it, "just use the calculator," he suggested, resting his chin on his knees.

"i don't need help."

"i want to understand how to solve this."

he scoffed, tilting his head at you in disbelief.

ni-ki sighed, getting really bored out of his mind. he doesn't understand why people make things so hard for themselves.

if there's already an easy way out, why not just take it?

you stayed focused until, finally, you set your pencil down with a satisfied sigh.

"you finished it?" ni-ki blinked surprised.

you turned to him with the brightest smile, giggling as you threw your arms around his neck. "yes, i told you i can do it!"

he smiled, letting you cling to him more, then pushed some loose strands of hair away from your face before leaning in to kiss you.

"are you really that smart?" he murmured against your lips.

you shook your head no, acting all modest and humble, but he wasn't buying it.

"okay, if you're that smart…” he leaned back slightly to watch your expression fully. "can you tell me what are you going to do after i die?"

your proud smile faded immediately. you shoved him away, moving to sit on the couch, and crossing your arms in irritation.

he followed you, leaning back over the cushions beside you. "come on," he said, "how long do you think it'll last before you move on?" he started kissing your arm, like what he always do when he wants to soften you up.

your brows knitted together. "ni-ki, that's not funny."

"i'm not trying to be funny." he laughed, tilting his head. "i'm just really curious."

you didn't answer, you just moved uncomfortably but that only encouraged him.

"i mean, you wouldn't stay single forever, right?" he said it so casually as if he was just talking about the weather. "you'd cry for a bit, sure, but then what?"

"oh i'm not even sure if you'll cry."

your stomach twisted.

"maybe you'd find someone new in, what, a year? six months? shit..." he looked up at you, "would it be sooner?"

you pressed your lips together, "can you not?" you said as you pulled your arm away, trying to put some space between him and you.

and you could move further, ni-ki grabbed your wrist and wrapped his around your waist, locking you in place.

"y/n..." he called out in your ear. "you're not answering me."

"because it's stupid!"

"it's not," he insisted, resting his chin on your shoulder. "i just wanna know, baby... would you miss me?"

you inhaled shakily. "of course i would..."

"would you cry?"

you swallowed hard, not answering.

his fingers traced your arm slowly, "you're already getting worked up, huh?"

your throat tightened.

"you're about to cry," he whispered, watching your expression closely.

your nose started to turn red and your lips quivered before curling downward into a sad pout.

ni-ki let out a soft chuckle, really in awe. "i'm not even dead, and you're already crying?"

a choked sob left your throat as you shove his chest, but your boyfriend didn't budge. he just watched you, amused, his eyes fixed on your tear-streaked face.

so you turned your face away, he started showering kisses to your head.

"you're so pretty when you're upset."

his lips trailed down your jaw, his hands were slipping under your skirt.

"ni-ki." you tried to warn, but he was already tilting your head back, capturing your lips in a deep kiss.

and despite how annoyed and sad you were, you still folded.

ni-ki lifted your skirt slightly, his fingers trailed over the soft fabric of your panties before slowly sliding them down your legs. he left the skirt on, he thinks it looks sexy how it framed you perfectly.

he then pushed your legs up, keeping them pressed together instead of spreading them apart like he knew the restriction will make everything more intense and tighter.

he dragged his tongue slowly over your folds along with obscene slurping sounds while you twitch underneath him. ni-ki took his time, savoring every desperate little noises that escaped your lips.

you grabbed his hand from your waist, and guided it up to your breasts, he catches on instantly, squeezing rough and hard, the pressure making you whimper. it hurts but it somehow eased some of the frustration from the torturous pace he's keeping between your thighs.

"ni-ki, please… please, more-" your voice trembled, your fingers tangling in his hair as you urged him to do more.

but he only hummed against your pussy, ignoring your pleas as he licked slowly and teasingly, again.

your patience snapped. you reached down to try and touch yourself, very desperate for the relief he's withholding, but ni-ki swats your hand away, "uh-uh," he disapproved, "just wait."

his grip on your thighs tightened as he presses a soft smooches to your pussy.

the frustration overwhelmed you. "just fucking stop this!" your patience snapped again for the second time, you tried to break free from his grip, your whole body writhing beneath him.

then his mouth closed around you, sucking hard on the sensitive bud making you gasp and bite down on your lip in shock.

the pleasure threatened to fall apart in your lower abdomen, only for him to suddenly pull away again, leaving you stranded on the edge.

tears pricked your eyes, spilling over your cheeks, you hide your face in your hands.

you can't even get mad, it just hurts.

ni-ki lay down beside you and gently removed your hands off your face.

your lashes were clumping together, your lips were slightly trembling, cheeks warm and flushed, the tip of your nose was already red from crying.

breathtaking.

he leaned in, pressing kisses all over your face.

you tried to turn away but he catches your lower lip between his teeth, tugging gently while his hands move to unzip his pants.

his lips parted as he inserted his dick in your aching hole, slowly sinking into you, and stretching you open. his hand held the back of your head while the other held your leg in the air.

ni-ki's moaned right in front of your face then to your ear, and it turned you on even more.

he kept on giving sloppy, open-mouthed kisses, now your whole face is wet because of him.

he caressed your cheek before tilting your chin up, his thumb pressed your lower lip until you open it for him. he didn't waste no time and slipped his tongue inside, deepening the kiss, just swallowing every sounds you make.

oh, fuck.

and even lying on your sides, he can stroke inside relentlessly. easily sliding in and out of you so fast, so deep you're going dumber and dumber.

ni-ki smirked as he watched you go crazy and completely wrecked from the pleasure he's giving you.

your walls fluttered around him, it's tightening, throbbing, but not consistently. it's like you're teasing him too, keeping him on the edge, and making him crave more.

he chuckled breathlessly, "you're so petty." then he started pounding even faster as he neared his climax.

"i'm close, where do i shoot this, baby? huh?"

"i want it all inside of me."

ni-ki groaned after hearing what you wanted, he pressed his forehead against yours as he lets himself go, spilling his cum deep inside your core.

some of it dripped down as he pulled out, so he used his fingers to push it all back inside of you.

he's not gonna let any of it go to waste.

"stop, making me, cry!" you said, sniffling before pinching his arm.

ni-ki flinched and smirked, "babe..." he said, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips before pressing a quick kiss. "you cry because you love me. it's natural."

then he held your panties "don't put these back on today," he said, before slipping them into his pocket.

"no, that's-"

"let's just see how it'll drip out of you every time you move."

ni-ki kissed you again, swallowing the little hiccuped sob that escapes your lips. then, as if he hasn't already ruined you enough, he whispers against your mouth...

"didn't i tell you that look so pretty when you cry?"

a/n: she got pacified with a big D (requested) jacquees - you

マスターリストm.list

taglist ���: @dolliewon @ziiao

[heavenlyspence]

Meeting of the Nerds | Spencer Reid

summary: after joining the BAU 10 months ago, you still haven't met any of the members of Agent Hotchner's team- until now. A quick introduction with BAU's certified genius Spencer Reid leads you two to find out that you have a lot in common. Could your nerdy connection lead to more?

contents/tw: season 4 spencer reid x fem!bau reader; an elevator; one brief mention of depression and racism; mentions of indigenous groups of people; anthropology; psychology; the uk; university; nerds nerding out

word count: 1.5k

a/n: i've been in college studying psychology and anthropology for a few years now (not at Oxford lol). I thought the two areas of study would be an interesting combination for a Criminal Minds character, which is how I came up with this story. I mention the Kānaka Maoli because that is the group I've studied the most for my anthropology work. I know that not everyone is interested in anthropology or psychology, so I'll cut back on how often I talk about anthro/psych in later chapters. Hope you enjoy!

From a young age, you’ve always been interested in understanding why people do what they do. Specifically, you were interested in knowing how being a part of different cultural groups impacted the psychological reasons why people do what they do. So, after graduating from high school at age 14, you went to the University of Oxford in the UK to study psychology and anthropology. You spent your time doing homework every night, doing excavations in the summertime, and after years of hard work, you finally graduated with master degrees in psychology and anthropology. And there was only one place you wanted to work at… the BAU.

You have been working at the BAU now for over 10 months and you still haven’t met everyone in the unit. Due to your unique qualifications, the FBI created a specialized job just for you. You received your own office, you have your own job title, and you get called out to help BAU teams whenever you’re needed. Most days you stay in your office doing your own research work but if a BAU team calls you for help then you’re on the first flight out to wherever they need you. You’ve helped teams with cases in South Dakota, New Mexico, Alaska, and Hawaii. So far you’ve helped every BAU team with a case except for one- Agent Hotchner’s team. 

Agent Hotchner’s team is known around the unit as being the best at their jobs. They catch the unsubs a majority of the time, they work well together, and they are always willing to risk their lives to help the victims. Sure, you’ve seen them around the building once in a while, but it’s always been from afar. You’ve never had the chance to speak with any of them because of their busy schedules. They’ve never requested your help, and you can’t lie - it’s made you a bit intrigued. How does this group of agents know everything that you know about different cultures and the psychology behind why they choose to do the things that they do?

You stepped into the empty elevator, pondering the question: who are these geniuses? You pressed the button to leave the lobby, and as the doors begin to shut, a brown bag slips through to stop the doors from fully shutting. 

“Sorry.” A soft voice says while stepping into the elevator and quickly pressing the button above yours with a part of the bag. As the doors go to close the man looks over at you for the first time but swiftly looks away. You saw his face for a brief second but you instantly recognized him.

“You’re an agent on Agent Hotchner’s team, right?” You say. But quickly realize that you seem like a stalker so you try to save the conversation, “I’ve seen you around the building before.” Yep…that totally makes you seem less crazy…

He looks at you with a surprised and confused expression on his face, “I’m Spencer Reid. And yes I work as a Supervisory Special Agent on Agent Hotchner’s team.” 

You introduce yourself as the doors open to your floor. As soon as you mentioned your job, Spencer remembered exactly who you were and how excited he was 10 ½ months ago when he found out that you had gotten hired at the BAU.

He had read a few of your academic studies over the years because he thought that your psychological anthropology perspective was fascinating. However, after you got hired, he saw you from afar and was terrified to speak with you. What if you thought it was strange how invested he was in your studies? What if you wanted to be left alone, and that’s why you aren’t on a BAU team? Why would someone as gorgeous as you waste your time talking to someone like him? The thoughts plagued his mind back then, but now you were standing in front of him, and he wasn’t going to miss this opportunity. The two of you exit the elevator together to speak for a little longer before clocking in for work.

“I read your research study that you released last year about how the Kānaka Maoli have been dealing with racism and depression by finding pride in who they are. It was a fascinating read! Your other paper about…” Spencer continues to ramble on about your academic research studies that are about various indigenous groups of people and the psychological effect that their culture, and the reactions from others, have had on them. 

You stare at him in wonder as he rapidly speaks. Nobody has ever cared this much about your work before, and it was the first time that you felt truly seen. You interrupt him as he rambles, “I've been wondering why Agent Hotchner’s team hasn’t been needing my help. I’m assuming that it’s because of you.” You smile at him as he catches his breath from talking so fast.

Embarrassment flashes over his face and he grips his bag tighter, “Sorry. I can go overboard sometimes when I’m talki-” 

“No! No! Please don’t apologize!” You put a hand over his, “I’ve never had someone be this interested in my work before. I’m flattered. I’ve just been wondering why your team is the only one that I’ve never been asked to help out before. And considering you’ve been able to recite my work word-for-word I’m assuming that you have eidetic memory.” You gently pull your hand away from him and begin to fidget your hands together in front of your waist. 

A slight blush rises across his cheeks, “Yeah, I-I have eidetic memory. Most people don’t know what that is.” He smiles and begins to fidget with his bag. 

“I studied it in one of my psychology classes when I was in university.” You watch as his face creates a puzzled expression.

“University?” His eyebrows raise slightly, “Not college? Where did you go to school?” He questions.

You begin to smirk at his confusion, “You’re a part of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI so you can probably figure out where I went to college at.” You purposely enunciate the word ‘college’ in order to throw him off.

He smirks but carefully begins to watch your facial expressions, “You said university first and then changed it to college afterwards. But it sounded less natural when you said college so I’m assuming that you went to a university.” He pauses to watch for any microexpressions, “Universities are all over the world but they are predominantly found in the UK. You work at the FBI so you most likely went to a high-ranking university. I know that you studied psychology and anthropology but I don’t know if it was at the same university.” He thinks for a moment, “I know that Cambridge, Oxford, and St. Andrews all offer those programs. Is it one of those?”

You try, and fail, to hold back your smile as you say, “Possibly.” 

He notices the inflection change when you said the word ‘possibly’ which tells him everything, “I read a research paper of yours that was about Danish culture and you mentioned how you did an excavation there while you were in school. The Oxford Anthropology and Archaeology department did an excavation in Denmark about the same time that you would’ve been in university. And every time I’ve mentioned the word Oxford in this conversation, you blink an extra time. So I’m guessing that you went to the University of Oxford.” He smiles triumphantly at you as your mouth drops open in awe.

You quickly adjust your mouth, “That was one of the most impressive things I’ve ever witnessed.” And one of the hottest - but you couldn’t tell him that. 

Suddenly, his phone buzzes, and he reluctantly reads it. He sighs, “I’ve gotta get to my team. A new case just came in.”

“Oh, can I have your number?” You dig through your bag and pull your phone out, “Ya know, just in case your team needs me or something…” 

His face lights up, “Yeah! Here, put your number in.” He hands you his phone and you hand him yours so the two of you can exchange numbers.

You add in your phone number and even take a quick selfie for a contact picture. You didn’t have time to make yourself look too pretty but you’re only getting his phone number for work purposes. Right?

 After a few moments, the two of you exchange your phones back and he sees the picture you took of yourself. He smiles while looking at it but quickly changes his facial expression before you notice.

“Can I message you even if I have non-related work questions?” He asks as he turns to press the button to call for the elevator.

You smirk, “I had a good time talking with you so…” You pause just to make him wait, “I wouldn’t mind that.” 

Ding! The elevator doors open, and he steps inside. “It was nice to finally meet you.” He presses his floor button.

“You too!” You say as the doors begin to shut. After they’re fully closed, you look at your phone and re-read your co-workers phone number. It took 10 ½ months, but you finally met a member of Agent Hotchner’s team - and he just so happens to be the most attractive person you’ve ever met.

[himasgod]

Hiii!!! I saw your requests were open and I was wondering if you could do some housewardens with a mute reader?

If that violates your boundaries please just ignore!

Good day/night! <3

HOUSEWARDENS X READER

Where you are mute PART 1

How would the housewardens act towards you if you were mute?

riddle, leona, azul.

Part two with kalim, vil, idia, and malleus will be posted in an hour on my profile <3

Riddle Rosehearts

At first, when he discovers you're mute, he's a little nervous. Not because it bothers him, but because he doesn't know if he'll be able to communicate with you properly.

Riddle is used to expressing himself directly and within strict rules, so having to adapt to a new form of communication is a challenge for him.

He asks Trey and other students if they know anything about sign language, and he even does his own research at the library.

If you use sign language, he'll do his best to learn it, even if he gets a little frustrated at first if he doesn't fully understand it.

One thing that surprises him (and secretly pleases him) is that you communicate a lot with expressions and gestures. When you give him a disapproving look because he's stressed or offer him tea with a smile, he feels a warmth in his chest.

"You don't need to say anything. I understand what you mean just by looking at you."

If someone makes fun of you for being mute, you can bet Riddle will punish them with a magic collar right then and there. No one has the right to disrespect you with him around.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona, far from finding it strange that you're mute, sees it as a relief.

It's not that se doesn't like conversations, but he hates unnecessary and noisy chatter. The fact that you can communicate without speaking seems convenient to him.

At first, he doesn't make an active effort to learn sign language, but over time he realizes that he does it unconsciously.

Little by little, he picks up on the gestures you use to express yourself and ends up understanding you without difficulty.

"Hah, you don't have to speak to understand what you want, herbivore. Your face says it all."

One thing he likes is how you can express yourself without words, especially when you stroke his hair when he's lying on your lap. It's one of the few moments when he completely relaxes.

If someone tries to take advantage of your condition, Leona glares or shoos them away with a low growl.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is a natural talker, so at first he wonders how he's going to negotiate with you if you can't respond with words.

However, he's so intrigued by the way you express yourself that he finds ways to adapt.

He learns sign language quickly. He has an excellent memory, so he works hard to memorize every sign you use.

Plus, he sees it as a competitive advantage, in case he ever has a mute customer at Mostro Lounge.

He offers you a contract to provide you with a temporary voice, but when you decline his offer (with a calm smile), he's taken aback. He's amazed by your self-confidence.

Over time, he realizes you don't need a voice to assert yourself, and that impresses him even more.

If someone underestimates you for not being able to speak, Azul intercedes with sharp and manipulative words, maybe asking Jade and Floyd for help to ruin their life basically.

No one will look down on his loved.

[mixingandmelting]

Hey! So kinda new here but I LOVED your take on how they would react to their s/o thinking Damian's adorable. Everytime he comes up I get in full protective older sister mode and it is so hard to find fics like that (kinda thinking about writing it myself). But I would really love to see how do you think it would be for Damian to meet his brothers' partners and actually get along with them.

All his life he's been mostly surrounded by terribly traumatized people who seem to be allergic to express their feelings (most of the times at least), it's always been hard for him to actually be a kid. So I think that maybe meeting a person he can trust, is kind of mentally stable and just fun to talk to would actually allow him to let his guard down a bit. Not saying he would act fully like a child bc you know ✨️trauma✨️ but idk I guess it would be interesting to see him feeling safe and not needing to prove himself or put on the whole "I'm not a kid" act

Anyway, english is not my first language so I do apologize if that paragraph is just a big mess and hopefully you could actually understand my rambling, sorry about that too.

A/N: treating it as a prequel to the aforementioned post here!

w/ Dick:

He heard about you. From Oracle, Steph, Tim, even Jon. Yet despite what they told him, he held no expectations for you. Just with Starfire, he saw you as temporary, a flame soon to be put out like his brother’s other exes. 

And he made sure to let you, meeting you for the first time in the Manor when the two of you coincidentally are left alone to chill in the living room on your day visiting the place. 

“I hope you realize you’re not Richard’s first nor will you be his last.” The teen states. His eyes never leave the page he’s currently on regarding the etiology of cows as he sits on the couch across from you. 

“And?” 

…And? 

He continues to insult you, questioning if you were truly unable to comprehend what he’s trying to get at only to suddenly find himself debating with you about what Batcow’s breed could possibly be. 

“You can’t rule out all dairy cattle when certain breeds are also brought to the slaughter house.” 

“That’s true but considering her size, she would be leaning towards beef cattle. Also there are certain breeds that have the red and white coat like hers.” 

How it happens, he doesn’t know. Especially when his goal was to exert his superiority, doing everything he can to get under your skin to show he’s above you. But you don’t bat an eyelash to anything he says. Rather, you’re wanting to know more about him, responding to him how you would respond to anyone else who is similar age as you. 

And it seems like he isn’t the only one to have realized how quickly he’s gotten comfortable with you once you got dragged out for a “girls talk” by the girls. Whatever that is. 

“I thought you didn’t want to get along?” Dick asks, entering the room and plopping himself right next to the youngest Bat. 

“More like your s/o is either non-human or can manipulate the mind.” Damian scowls and swats at the offending hand that attempts to ruffle his hair. 

But even without the knowing smirk the eldest shoots at him, he knows that isn’t the case. 

So when you promise you’d bake sweets whenever the two of you meet, he takes you up for it. Now he uses it to his advantage to annoy his older sibling whenever he comes over to visit, enjoying how the eldest son of the family miserably sulks for having your attention taken away from him. 

w/ Jason:

It’s either you’re a saint or lacking a brain. That’s what he assumes when the eldest of the family yells to everyone in the Batcave that their second oldest brother, the trouble-maker and black sheep of the family, had finally found himself a significant other.

He most definitely didn’t expect you to be… collected and reserved when he casually breaks into Todd’s unit to demand for assistance (it’s not him needing help), only for his eyes to meet wide and surprise yours. 

“Who are you?”

“Uh, I should be the one to say that to you.  Not the other way around buddy.”

Shots are fired, both sides fully suspicious of each other with him trying to exert dominance while you manage to counter and land hits of your own in the battle of words. And to the bitter end, he will never admit how he’s thrown off guard and has his pride extremely hurt at the very start, your eyes’ glint and your voice vocalizing recognition as whom, what Todd apparently refers to him as, “the pain in the ass” before he was able to realize you’re the s/o Richard had been talking about (the argument he gives later on after gloating to family how he was the first to actually to meet you was how he didn’t think Todd would be dating someone normal considering all his history with others and hook-ups). 

As it should be known when putting two stubborn people in the same room, it’s either go big or go home. That’s why he sits down at the table and drinks the cup of tea you place in front of him. The one that you made in the midst of the verbal argument which “only” you refuse to back down despite there already being a winner. Not because you give him snacks and you’re decent with steeping tea with loose leaf tea. 

The argument shifts to gossiping, and soon, Jason arrives while the two of you spill the tea with each other regarding the latest Batfamily’s love-drama. 

“Oh, you’re back!” 

The way Damian nearly does a double take at the sight of the man genuinely smiling with joy, captivation, and enamor though it only lasts for a second at him noticing who else was sitting at the table with you. He’s glad to say the least he’s able to find someone he could gossip about his family’s dilemma with romance while gleefully able to get at the man for all the times his buttons were pushed. 

w/ Tim:

Trust Drake to keep you hidden for this long, successfully in completely masking your presence from the whole family. He didn’t even know you existed, nonetheless Drake having a significant other in general,  leaving him to quite literally not have an opinion on you. 

The only way he finds out is the person in question kissing who he now knows is you purely by accident where the two of you were in the middle of a date and he was subbing in for patrol. He had the biggest grin when witnessing all this as he realized he just got his hand on his nemesis’ biggest weakness (he does make a face at the public display of affection though). And what better way to cement it by finding out more about you. 

As per tradition, the first thing he does is follow you to where you live. Then proceed to break in and wait for you to come home the following week. 

“You’re Drake’s significant other?” 

“What the fuc-fudge, why is there a kid in my apartment?!” 

He gets fed up and presses harder with the interrogation as you won’t stop calling him kid, kiddo, bud, and worst of all: sport. He’ll give it to you how you don’t easily bend to peer-pressure, keeping the playing field even and leveled where you ask him back questions of your own. But he doesn’t fall for your tactics to sidetrack him when offering refreshments and beverages. 

What’s your relation with Timothy Jackson Drake, how long have you known him, where did you meet him. The strange part is how you answer them truthfully. Sure you keep to the barebones, which he would ask a follow up if he deems as “important” but now he’s questioning Drake’s tastes in people, wondering if the latter is into those without awareness. 

“You do realize you’re giving out information to someone you just met, right?” He crosses his arms, an eyebrow raised. It’s not out of concern for the two of you, he’s merely mocking how weak the relationship seems to be. He tilts his head when you suddenly look sheepish, almost bashful. 

“Well…about that…” 

It’s starting then things don’t go as planned. One, you had already known about him as the “demon spawn” who had taken the position of Robin.  And two, the two of you start bonding over knowing your BF’s most humiliating moments.

It gives Damian the greatest satisfaction to see how his sibling’s facial expression falls into horror as he slams the door open only to see him in the middle of writing notes on the one story of how he attempted to skate through the rain to impress you and fail.

[sinofwriting]

Strawberries - Charles Leclerc

Words: 939 Summary: Since you’ve gotten together, Charles has been open about how he hates strawberries, the very fruit you are allergic to. Note(s): Reader is allergic to strawberries

Masterlist | Support Me! 

She rubbed her lips together, staring in the mirror as she watched the lip gloss perfectly coat her lips. It was new, a darker red tint to it then she expected, but she liked it. And it felt nice on her mouth as well.

“That is new.” A voice from behind her comments, arms wrapping around her waist and lips being pressed to her cheek.

“It is.” She smiles, leaning back into Charles. “It got sent to me.”

She watches in the mirror as his smile turns into a small frown. “Did you,”

“Yes, Cha.” A laugh leaves her and she can’t help but turn in his arms. “I of course checked the ingredients. No strawberries.”

He pouts. “I can’t help but worry. The last time you tried something new it had that stupid fruit and it was lucky that Arthur remembered where your EpiPen was.”

“I know.” She soothes, running her hands up and down his arms. “But I was okay. Didn’t even have to go to the hospital.”

He gives her an unamused look. “Yes, because there was medical staff just meters away.” He softens a little under her hands as she moves them to his chest. “It scared me what happened. I don’t want it to happen again.”

“I know.” She presses forward, lips brushing lightly against his, mindful of her lip gloss that she already knew from swatching was not transfer proof. “But I’m being even more careful now and I have an EpiPen so do you, Joris, and Pascale.”

He flushes. “Andrea has one and Lorenzo. I might have as well-made sure one is part of the medical kit on Vista and in my motorhome and driver's room.”

“Charles! They aren’t cheap and that’s so many, they expire!”

“It was only a couple hundred.” He waves his hand. “And I have reminders to replace them. I’m not going to let anything happen to you if I can help it.”

Her heart swells at his words and the gesture. She still wasn’t used to it, to him.

“Thank you.” She finally murmurs, brushing their lips together again.

He makes a small noise as she stops him from kissing her fully. “Why?”

“My lip gloss, it will get all over your lips.” She explains, blood rushing to her cheeks.

“Chérie, if you think I care about that, I have been doing something very wrong.”

And before she can protest because it was actually the opposite, he had been doing everything very right, he’s kissing her. Not just a brush of the lips or a small peck, but a full on kiss. Their lips moving together seamlessly as she relaxes into him, fingers curling into his shirt.

“Much better.” He murmurs, when they break apart, her eyes half-lidded as she stares at his lips that have a sheen from her lip gloss and he’s pressing another sweet but short kiss to her lips.

He doesn’t let her wipe away the sheen, even as they are about to enter the restaurant they are meeting his family at for dinner.

It makes her face warm, the sight of it on him, a small but simple claim that he is taken, that he is hers. And she knows that he is aware of what she’s thinking, with the small amused look he had given her in the car. He didn’t say anything though, couldn’t, not with how he went out of his way, it seemed to mark her up.

Her face grows hot as she hears Charles asking the waiter, checking with him really, if any dishes are made with strawberries.

“I wasn’t even going to get anything with fruit in it.” She murmurs, making Pascale give a small laugh and patting her hand.

“We don’t want to take any chances.”

“I’m a little surprised that Charles doesn’t carry a travel toothbrush and mouthwash with him.” The whole table looks at Arthur in confusion and his eyebrows raise when he realizes, eyes finally leaving his menu.

“For when he eats strawberries.” Arthur clarifies and the rest of the table makes a small noise of understanding, but she looks at him in confusion, body turning slightly towards Charles.

“But Charles hates strawberries?”

Charles’ winces at her words and Arthur shakes his head.

“I may have lied, but I do hate them now. I haven’t touched one since you told me about your allergy.”

“Charles,” She stops, unsure of what to say. It was a sweet gesture, not even touching them since their second ever date when she had to ask the waitress about their fruit selection and how it was prepared, but she hated the thought that he gave something he liked just because she was allergic to it. She could understand not having them when they were eating together, but completely? It felt like an overreaction.

“You didn’t have to do that.” She finally says, everyone else listening to Charlotte as she talks about a patient she just had, easily taking the attention of them, and she’ll have to make sure to text the other girl later in thanks.

He picks up her hand, intertwining their fingers. “I know, but I wanted to. Not having strawberries is a very small price to pay for you.”

“But you could still have them. There’s plenty of time when we aren’t together and I don’t mind.”

“I know.” He smiles, squeezing her hand. “I know. But I wanted to. It is not like I’m really missing anything. They are a quite boring fruit.”

She stares at him, at the sincerity in his eyes, and she squeezes his hand back. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

[rhiannonsknife]

okay hear me out. french-canadian shauna who’s first language is french.. (unrealistic i know) that defaults to babbling out phrases and sentences in her first language when she’s being fucked by reader w/ a strap ..

Like i’m not super confident w how i’m suggesting this but .. if that makes any sense!

— 🐾

listen: i do not speak french. i actually failed french in school, and this is a mix of poorly done research, google translate, and a friend of mine who didn’t fail her classes and was actually decent at it. nsfw content. mdni.

there are plenty of things you’ve learned to love about shauna shipman in the months you’ve been dating. in fact, there are countless of quirks and habits you’ve fallen even more in love with over time.

and yet, there’s one thing in particular you’ve developed a bit of a soft spot for.

her french.

you hadn’t even known she spoke it until the first time shauna brought you home and greeted her mother in a fluent string of words that left you blinking in surprise.

from that moment on, you found yourself listening for it.

not just the casual kind, though you love that, too: the quiet mutterings when she’s annoyed, or the half translated thoughts slipping past her lips when she’s distracted and isn’t paying attention to what she’s saying.

not even the filthy things she sometimes murmurs against your skin, knowing exactly what it does to you.

(shauna will lean in close then, her breath warm against your ear, and murmur things she knows you don’t fully understand but feel all the same. “t’es si belle comme ça,” she’ll purr from behind as her fingers find your nipples under your shirt. “so douce…j’ai envie de te goûter…”)

but no, your favorite kind of french is when shauna is the one losing control.

when you’ve got her before you, on all fours or riding you so hard that the bed is creaking dangerously underneath the shared weight of your bodies. the times she is so drunk on your strap, she doesn’t even realize her brain has switched languages because she’s so caught up in you and her moans dissolve into desperate ‘putains’ or other slurred curses.

moments like right now; a rare opportunity that only comes when her house is empty, letting you be as loud as you please without worrying that her mom will hear everything downstairs from shauna’s attic room.

you’ve got the harness fastened on, its straps sitting snugly around your waist as you watch shauna’s cunt greedily taking the silicone cock attached to it, arousal dripping onto the bedsheets and your thighs. she’s bouncing on the toy’s shaft, both of her eyes shut tightly and her hands resting firmly on your shoulder. that’s what you’ve been doing for the past hours: watching in amazement as your girlfriend took what she needed from you, her low cries echoing each time the strap stroked against her g-spot.

your own body is pulsing, aching to be touched for any kind of relief as shauna whines and rests her forehead against yours. she’s no longer bouncing on your strap at this point, just rutting back and forth in short, desperate thrusts while chasing her release.

“oh,” she moans when, suddenly, you take her by the hips and spin her around, smoothly positing yourself between her open legs without losing momentum. for a second, her eyes widen in surprise, but she shuts them again once you begin thrusting your hips forward in the new position, fucking shauna deeper.

“mhm,” she whines as her head falls back into the pillows. “oh- mon dieu- yes right there! baise-moi!”

it’s a barely coherent mix of languages, the pleasure too much to tell the difference between the two. it’s the result of all these hours spent behind locked doors in her room since the moment mrs. shipman had announced that she was leaving for the night.

now that the words are practically stumbling from her lips and her thighs start to tremble, you can tell shauna is close.

“plus fort!” she begs, trying to pick up the pace by lifting her hips up and meeting you halfway. you wouldn’t deny her after all this time of agonizingly slow movements and teasing flicks of your tongue and fingers against her stiff clit. so, with the little french you have learned this far, you fuck shauna harder like she’s asked you to.

“fuck yes!” shauna’s fingers around you tighten their grip, nails scratching red marks down the length of your spine. “continue comme ça!”

as if you'd ever stop.

“yes, oh my-“ she babbles, one hand falling between her legs to work on her clit, the other holding onto you for dear life. “tu me fais me sentir si bien!”

you don’t need to know what she’s saying to understand that it feels good. shauna arches up against you, working frantic circles around her clit. this is the stimulation she’s been missing before, the one thing between her and a mind-blowing orgasm.

she is moaning incoherent versions of your name and french curses as her legs spread wider and tighten around your waist, forcing you deeper.

the relentless clenching of her walls around the strap and a breathless: ‘fuck, je jouis’ is all of a warning you get before shauna is falling apart beneath you. her body squirms on the sheets and her fingers curl to fists in your hair as she cums. shauna’s mouth hangs open in a silent scream while she rides out the waves of her orgasm, her hips uselessly grinding against the toy attached to you until she’s got no strength left in her and collapses on the bed.

you roam her sides soothingly, caressing up her ribs and across her chest while she recovers.

“are you okay?” you murmur after a while of shauna lying motionless with both eyes closed, her breathing still slightly uneven. “was that good for you?” she hums softly in response, her lips curving into the faintest of smiles. she doesn’t open her eyes just yet, just tilts her head slightly toward you.

“mmm…c’était parfait,” shauna whispers, voice drowsy. her fingers find yours on the blankets, tracing circles against your skin.

“yeah?”

“bien sûr,” she sighs, finally opening her eyes. she shifts just enough to press a kiss to your shoulder. “toujours parfait avec toi”

[holyblonded]

return of media day | stargirl

pairings: alexia putellas x teen!reader

summary: you are about to drop your first signature cleats with nike and they decide to do a joint shoot with alexia

warnings: rfef mentioned 😐

notes: this was extremely cute y’all. it’s a bit short but i couldn’t think of anything else to add. tell me what else yall want to see with this series!!

You were already half-asleep in the car on the way to the shoot, having just landed back in Spain after international break. Nike hadn’t given you too many details about today, just that it was important and you had to be there.

So naturally, you showed up in a hoodie, sweatpants, and slides, looking like you had just crawled out of hibernation. You walked onto set, rubbing your eyes, only to freeze in place.

“There’s no way,” you muttered, blinking rapidly.

You turned away, rubbed your eyes again, then looked back to confirm you weren’t hallucinating.

“ALE!”

Alexia barely had time to react before you full-speed sprinted at her and jumped, forcing her to catch you mid-air. Alexia let out a surprised grunt as you crashed into her, legs wrapping around her waist like some kind of overly excited koala.

Her first instinct was to scold you, but an involuntary smile spread across her face as she held you. “You’re so dramatic.” She huffed, adjusting her grip to keep you from sliding to the floor. “You do realize I’m not a crash pad, right?”

You ignored her, squeezing tighter. “I knew I wasn’t hallucinating.”

“You thought you were hallucinating?” Alexia chuckled, finally setting you down.

“I’ve been awake since five a.m., Ale. I didn’t even know where I was going today. Nike just shoved me into a car and told me to smile.” You pulled back slightly, holding her shoulders as if to make sure she was actually real. “And then I see you? My brain short-circuited.”

Alexia smirked. “Understandable. Seeing me is a life-changing experience.”

You lightly smacked her arm. “Don’t make me regret missing you.”

By now, everyone on set had stopped what they were doing, watching your reunion with varying degrees of amusement. A cameraman filming the behind-the-scenes content caught the whole thing, likely already thinking about how to turn it into a dramatic slow-motion edit.

“Wait—” Alexia suddenly furrowed her brows, looking around the studio. “Why are you here?”

“Why am I here?” you repeated, blinking. “Why are you here?”

Alexia gave you a deadpan look. “I work with Nike.”

“Well, so do I,” you shot back, placing your hands on your hips.

A pause. Then, ever so slowly, the realization dawned on both of you.

“Oh my god,” Alexia exhaled, eyes widening.

“No way,” you whispered dramatically.

“You’re the shoot?” Alexia asked, pointing at you.

“And you’re part of it?” you gasped, pointing right back.

“Did neither of you read your emails?” one of the Nike reps finally interjected, rubbing their temples.

You and Alexia turned to them, completely unapologetic.

“Absolutely not,” you said in unison.

Alexia shook her head with a fond smile, draping an arm over your shoulders. “Well, I guess this just got a lot more interesting.”

You grinned. “And a lot more chaotic.”

The Nike rep sighed, muttering something about “athletes and their aversion to reading”, before motioning for the crew to resume setting up.

Meanwhile, you leaned into Alexia, still grinning like an idiot. “Hey, Ale?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you miss me?”

Alexia rolled her eyes, pulling you closer. “Unfortunately.”

The interview started off smooth. Professional. Standard media day questions.

The crew had set up the cameras, the lights were bright, and the atmosphere was lighthearted. You and Alexia sat side by side, answering questions about the new cleats, the upcoming season, and your goals.

Then, someone asked, “How would you describe each other’s playing styles?”

Alexia hummed, tilting her head thoughtfully. You turned to look at her, fully expecting a compliment, maybe even some poetic analysis of your skills.

Instead, she casually dropped, “Estrella is… chaotic.”

Your mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”

“But effective,” she added, holding up her hands like that softened the blow. “You never know what she’s going to do next. It’s terrifying.”

You scoffed. “Wow. That’s crazy. You know, I was gonna be nice, but now?” You turned to the camera, shaking your head in mock disappointment. “Alexia is a control freak.”

Alexia gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest like you had personally insulted her entire family. “I am not a control freak.”

“Oh, you so are.”

“I just like order,” she defended, crossing her arms.

“You demand order,” you corrected, smirking. “Everything has to go exactly how you see it in your mind, and if someone does something unpredictable, you short-circuit for a second before trying to control the chaos.”

Alexia opened her mouth, then closed it, then sighed. “Okay, maybe. But that’s a good thing.”

You snorted. “Yeah, yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night, Capitana.”

Alexia narrowed her eyes playfully before turning back to the camera. “Well, since we’re being honest, I stand by what I said, chaotic, unpredictable, borderline reckless—”

“Hey!”

“—but effective,” she repeated, laughing.

You turned to the interviewer, pointing at Alexia. “This is why she stresses me out.”

Alexia raised an eyebrow. “You stress me out.”

The media crew was loving it. The interviewer barely held in their laughter.

“Alright, so if you had to pick one word to describe each other’s playing style?” they prompted.

Alexia didn’t even hesitate. “Unhinged.”

You let out a dramatic gasp. “That is so rude!”

“You’ve literally nutmegged someone while tying your shoe,” Alexia shot back. “I rest my case.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Fine. If I’m unhinged, then you’re bossy.”

Alexia smirked. “I am your captain, you know.”

“And I am your problem,” you teased back.

The media crew burst out laughing as Alexia groaned, throwing her head back.

“You are a menace.”

��And you love me.”

Alexia sighed, shaking her head with a smile. “Unfortunately.”

The interview wrapped up, but the banter continued as you walked off set.

“Chaotic?” you muttered. “That’s crazy. I bring excitement.”

“You bring stress,” Alexia corrected.

“Same thing.”

“Absolutely not.”

You smirked. “Admit it, though. You love playing with me.”

Alexia gave you a side glance, shaking her head. “I tolerate it.”

You grinned, throwing an arm around her shoulder. “I’ll take it.”

Everything was going smoothly—well, as smoothly as anything involving you ever could—until it was time to officially start the photoshoot for your signature cleats.

You stood in the center of the set, cleats laced up, lights shining, the Nike crew prepped and ready to go. Just as they were about to start, you clapped your hands together.

“Wait, hold on,” you said, making everyone pause. “Before we do this, we need to discuss the name of my cleats.”

Alexia, sitting off to the side watching, sighed deeply, already sensing disaster.

The Nike reps exchanged nervous glances.

“Alright, so,” you began confidently, “I was thinking we call them The Menace Ones.”

A heavy silence settled over the room.

“No,” Alexia said immediately.

“Okay, okay,” you continued, undeterred. “The Chaos Touch?”

“No.”

“The Ankle Breakers?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Nutmeg 3000?”

“Please stop talking,” Alexia groaned.

You turned to the Nike crew, hoping for support, but they all seemed too afraid to challenge Alexia’s authority.

“Fine, fine,” you huffed dramatically. “I’ll be normal about it.”

Alexia narrowed her eyes, clearly unconvinced.

For the next twenty minutes, you behaved. You posed, dribbled, and shot dramatic looks at the camera like a professional. Everything was going perfectly.

Then came the first break and you disappeared.

Five minutes later, you returned, dressed head to toe in an Adidas tracksuit. The entire room fell into stunned silence.

Alexia’s eyes widened in pure disbelief as she stared at you. “No.”

“What?” you said innocently, adjusting the collar of the jacket. “We’re on break.”

“TAKE THAT OFF,” Alexia demanded, already storming toward you.

“I just thought I’d switch things up—”

Before you could finish, she grabbed your arm and started dragging you toward the changing room.

“You are going to get us both killed,” she muttered through gritted teeth.

“You have to admit it’s a little funny,” you said, barely suppressing your grin.

Alexia shot you a glare. “You are lucky Nike likes you.”

“And you are lucky I love you enough to go change.”

Alexia sighed heavily, releasing you with one final warning look. “If you come out in Puma next, I’m leaving.”

The camera zooms in on your cleats as you spin them in your hands, running your fingers over the details. The black leather shimmers slightly under the studio lights, gold speckles running along the sides like stars scattered across the night sky. The laces are a deep navy, and the sole glows with a metallic silver finish. A rich purple fades into the black near the heel, blending seamlessly like the sky at dusk.

You smile softly, tilting the shoe toward the camera.

“These are the Estrella 001s—my first signature boots with Nike,” you say, voice filled with quiet pride. “The name comes from my nickname, Estrella, which means ‘star’ in Spanish. But it’s more than that.”

You turn the boot over, showing the gold lettering on the back heel tab, where Estrella 001 is printed vertically in a clean script.

“For me, stars have always meant guidance. I used to look up at them when I felt lost, like they were the only things that stayed constant. They remind me of my past, my struggles… everything that made me me.”

The camera pans over the subtle red and yellow stitching near the tongue of the cleat.

“This is for where I come from. Barcelona, Spain,” you continue. “I might not play for Spain anymore, but it’s still my home. It’s where I fell in love with football. Where I met the people who shaped me. I’ll never forget that.”

You flip the boot back over, running your thumb over the inside, where a tiny phrase is stitched in white.

“It says, ‘Siempre pa’lante.’ Always forward. That’s something Ale taught me when I was going through a tough time. I didn’t always believe it, but she did. And now? Now I do too.”

You set the cleat down and glance toward the camera, a small smile playing on your lips.

“But I wouldn’t be here without my family. My real family.”

Your eyes flick over to Alexia, standing off-camera.

“When Ale took me in, she gave me something I didn’t think I’d ever have again. A home. A place to belong. Someone who loved me without conditions.” You pause, voice thick with emotion. “She didn’t have to, but she did. And I’ll never be able to thank her enough for that.”

The camera smoothly shifts toward Alexia, who is very obviously blinking back tears, her lips pressed together tightly as she tries (and fails) to hold it together.

You grin. “Are you crying?”

She sniffs, shaking her head. “No.”

You smirk, standing up and walking over. “She’s crying.”

“I’m not—”

Before she can finish, you wrap your arms around her waist, pulling her into a tight hug. She exhales sharply, but her arms immediately come up to hold you close.

The camera catches the soft, warm moment between you two.

“You took me in,” you murmured. “You didn’t have to. But you did.”

Alexia’s arms tightened around you. “You were mine the second I saw you.”

You squeezed her tighter, voice thick. “Thank you for loving me, Ale.”

She kissed your forehead, whispering softly. “Siempre pa’lante, mi niña.”

[wisesoultarot]

Intimate life with your future spouse after marriage

Instagram | Tip Jar | Book a Reading with me now!!

💜IMAGE 1:

Your future spouse is envisioned as a vibrant and passionate individual, someone who brings a spark of energy and enthusiasm into every aspect of life. This dynamic personality should ease any concerns you may have about the longevity and excitement of your relationship. Imagine couples who age gracefully yet still maintain a lively intimacy; that’s the kind of dynamic you can expect in your own partnership.

In this relationship, you and your partner will never have to worry about boredom or fatigue creeping into your intimate life, even after the vows are exchanged. Your future spouse is likely to take the lead in the bedroom, bringing creativity and spontaneity that will keep the flame of passion alive. I foresee multiple rounds of excitement following your initial encounters, as both of you will be eager to explore and enjoy each other’s company without hesitation.

There will be no waiting or reluctance between you two; instead, you will dive deep into each experience together, fully immersing yourselves in the joy of intimacy. This connection will be characterized by open communication and a shared desire to please one another, ensuring that both of you feel cherished and desired.

Even after starting a family, your active sex life will continue to thrive, as you both prioritize your relationship and understand the importance of maintaining that intimate bond. You will find ways to nurture your connection, making time for each other amidst the busyness of family life. This commitment to intimacy will lead to a fulfilling and satisfying life together, where love and passion remain at the forefront of your relationship.

Ultimately, your future together will be marked by a deep emotional and physical connection, one that evolves and grows stronger over time. You will create a beautiful balance between family life and personal intimacy, ensuring that your relationship remains vibrant and passionate for years to come.

💜IMAGE 2:

I envision you reliving every cherished moment with your future spouse, as their touch resonates deeply within you, igniting a spark that feels both familiar and exhilarating. Each caress will be a reminder of the profound connection you share, a language of love spoken through gentle gestures and lingering glances. They will bring delightful surprises to your intimate life, introducing new adventures that leave you in awe of your choice in partner. Whether it’s a spontaneous weekend getaway or a quiet evening spent exploring each other’s dreams, these experiences will deepen your bond and create lasting memories.

Often, you will find yourselves lost in daydreams about each other's warmth and the closeness you share. In those moments of reflection, you’ll realize how intertwined your lives have become, each thought of them filling you with a sense of comfort and joy. You will crave solitude together, seeking out those precious moments where the world fades away, and it’s just the two of you. Each time you find it, intimacy will naturally follow, blossoming in the quiet spaces where you can truly be yourselves.

The emotions between you are profound, indicating that your encounters will transcend mere physicality; they will be acts of love, deeply connecting you both on emotional and spiritual levels. Each embrace will carry the weight of your shared history, and every kiss will be a promise of the future you are building together. The atmosphere will be filled with romance, featuring tender foreplay that ignites passion and affectionate cuddles that soothe the soul. This nurturing bond will linger long after your moments together, creating a sense of belonging that wraps around you like a warm blanket.

You will treat each other with utmost gentleness, fostering an environment where vulnerability is cherished, and love is expressed freely. This mutual respect and care will create a beautiful tapestry of love and intimacy, woven with threads of trust, laughter, and shared dreams. Together, you will explore the depths of your connection, celebrating the unique rhythm of your relationship and the joy that comes from being completely and utterly yourselves in each other’s presence.

💜IMAGE 3:

The energy here feels deeply sensual and earthy, radiating strong vibes associated with earth signs. This grounding energy creates a sanctuary where both of you can truly connect on a profound level. It seems like you both take your time to prepare the space and yourselves before diving into intimacy, creating a seductive atmosphere that builds anticipation. The careful arrangement of soft lighting, inviting textures, and perhaps the subtle scent of essential oils envelops you, setting the stage for a deeply intimate experience.

You cherish each moment, savoring the experience without rushing toward the climax. This deliberate pace allows you to explore each other’s bodies and emotions, fostering a sense of trust and vulnerability. Every touch, every whisper, becomes a part of a beautiful dance, where you both are attuned to each other’s desires and needs. There’s a palpable tension in the air, a delicious build-up that heightens your senses and deepens your connection.

The rhythm of your connection is marked by a step-by-step approach that showcases your harmony and synchronization. You move together like a well-rehearsed duet, each note perfectly timed, each movement fluid and intentional. This shared understanding creates a safe space where you can both express yourselves freely, allowing your desires to unfold naturally. The anticipation builds, creating a magnetic pull that draws you closer, igniting a fire that simmers just beneath the surface.

Once you shift from a slow pace to a faster one, it’s as if nothing can hold you back. The energy transforms, becoming electric and all-consuming. You find yourselves lost in the moment, swept away by the intensity of your connection. It’s a thrilling release, a culmination of all the anticipation and desire that has been building between you. This exhilarating shift leads to sleepless nights filled with unrelenting energy, where time seems to stand still, and the outside world fades away.

Each encounter leaves you both breathless, fully immersed in the intensity of your shared moments. The afterglow lingers, wrapping around you like a warm blanket, as you bask in the satisfaction of your connection. You find yourselves exchanging soft laughter and tender caresses, relishing the closeness that you’ve cultivated. In these moments, you realize that it’s not just about the physical act of intimacy; it’s about the deep emotional bond that you’ve nurtured, the trust that has blossomed, and the joy of being fully present with one another. This is a sacred space where your souls intertwine, creating a tapestry of love, passion, and connection that is uniquely yours.

[shockercoco]

Better Late Than Never

Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings - fluff, some kissing, Valentine’s Day shenanigans, flirty!Bucky

Word count - 2167

a/n - Happy Valentine’s Day everyone, especially to all my fellow single readers! I’ve somehow ended up in my Sebastian Stan era again, so I thought why fight it. It’s been a while since I’ve written an imagine, and I’m feeling a little rusty, but I hope you all enjoy and thanks in advance for reading :)

“What’s got you smiling so much?” You ask Wanda as she sits down across from you.

It was Wanda’s idea to meet up for lunch after finding out about the rough morning you had, and she had also told you that she had some good news to share that might cheer you up. 

You had woken up late for work, couldn’t find your car keys, and when you reached the halfway point on your journey to work, you realized you didn’t have your phone. Today just wasn’t your day.

“Remember how I said I had some good news?” Wanda asks, her smile huge as she leans in and rests her elbows on the table. When you nod, she continues. “Well, Vision surprised me at work and finally asked me to be his girlfriend! He brought me flowers and everything.”

Yeah, today just really wasn’t your day.

“That’s really great, Wanda, but how exactly is that supposed to cheer me up?” you question, giving her a small smile to soften your words.

“Because you were the one who suggested that I should confess my feelings to him, and you’ve pretty much been with me every step of the way,” Wanda tells you. Her expression then turns into confusion. “Is something wrong?”

You honestly were really proud and happy for Wanda, and if this were any other time of the year, your reaction would’ve been different. But it’s not. Valentine's Day is at the end of the week and you just want the week to be over with.

While you were walking down the street on your way to the restaurant, you walked past a woman getting proposed to in the park. While you were waiting for the light to change in order for you to cross the street, you saw a couple making out. As you walked past a street vendor selling flowers, you overheard the vendor making conversation with a man who was apparently looking for the right flowers to buy his crush. Now, Wanda hits you with this.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” you quickly shake your head. “I’ve just had a weird day.”

She looks at you for a moment longer, not fully believing you. “Hmm, there’s something else. Tell me.”

You let out a laugh. “Wanda, I’m fine. It just…it’s nothing really. I’m good.”

“It’s just what?” Wanda asks. When you hesitate again, she adds, “We’re not ordering until you tell me what’s up,” she smirks at you. 

A small groan leaves you, before you speak up, “It’s just that Bucky hasn’t asked me to be his valentine yet, and this is our first Valentine’s Day as a couple. It stupid, I know. I shouldn’t even be upset.”

“No, it’s not stupid. Have you mentioned how you feel to him?”

“No, I didn’t think I had to since he’s always surprising me with gifts any other time of the year. I just figured this would just happen naturally, but nothing yet.”

“I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. After all, it’s still the beginning of the week. Who knows, he could just be waiting for the actual day to come,” Wanda says, and when you don’t say anything, she places a hand on top of yours and continues, “I’d honestly be surprised if Bucky does absolutely nothing for you. Everyone knows how obsessed he is with you.”

That makes you smile. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am, and when Valentine’s Day comes and he still hasn’t asked you to be his valentine, call me, I’ll hunt him down,” Wanda tells you right as a waitress walks up to the table to take your guys’ order. She catches the end of Wanda’s sentence and has a confused, yet amused look on her face. “Sorry, just relationship problems.”

The waitress laughs as she says, “Don’t worry I understand.”

Later that night when you're at Bucky’s place for a movie night the two of you had planned the week before, you can feel Bucky looking at you repeatedly while your eyes are still on the screen. You’re cuddled up into his side with his arm wrapped around you, but you still notice the constant shifting of his head.

You finally give in and look up at him. “Is there something on my face?” you ask him, your tone teasing.

Bucky’s confused with your question. “No, why?”

“Because you keep looking at me.”

“What, I can’t admire my own girlfriend anymore?”

“It feels more like staring than anything,” you tell him, and Bucky just laughs.

“Well, then I’m sorry,” Bucky apologizes as he places a hand on your cheek to lift your head up. He leans down to place a gentle kiss on your lips, a smile still tugging on the corner of his lips. When he pulls away, he still keeps the distance between the two of you small as he looks into your eyes.

“Seriously, what is it?” you whine as you playfully shove him away from you, causing him to laugh. He knows how much you hate it when he does that. “Is there something bugging you?” you casually slide in the question, slightly hoping that he would use this time to ask you to be his valentine.

“No, there isn’t,” he laughs and pulls away, turning his attention back to the screen, but keeping his arm still wrapped around you. “I’m done, I promise.” 

He misses the slight drop in your expression, but you quickly fix your face before looking back at the tv as well.

As the week goes on, you try to focus on more important things, but as Friday continues to get closer, your hope continues to diminish. You and Bucky continue to text normally throughout the week, but when Thursday afternoon comes Bucky calls you to let you know that he’ll be going on a mission the next day. On Valentine’s Day.

“I’m sorry it’s such short notice, doll, but Steve needs me,” you hear Bucky softly tell you through the phone. You’re sitting on a chair in front of your window watching people pass by with Bucky on speaker.

“Oh, no it’s okay, I understand,” you say, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. “How long will you be gone?”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end, before Bucky speaks, “A couple of weeks.”

Weeks? 

Your heart drops at his answer and you feel your throat start to tighten. You quickly mute yourself to clear the tears from your throat, before unmuting.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” he asks, noticing your delayed response. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be? There’s people out there that need you,” you speak up.

You catch sight of your neighbor’s boyfriend walking up to her house with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You momentarily forget you’re on the phone and unintentionally let out a frustrated sigh at the sight, catching Bucky’s attention.

“Listen, I can probably get out of it. I’m sure Steve doesn’t need me that bad, there’s a whole team of people that are available to help out.”

A sad laugh leaves you. “Bucky it’s fine, I promise. He’s your best friend and he specifically asked you because he wants you, so go.”

“If you insist,” you hear Bucky sigh “I know you’re upset, though, so I promise to make it up to you when I get back, okay?”

That makes you crack a smile. “Okay.”

When the next day rolls around, you take your time getting out of bed. Unfortunately, you had the day off today, which of course you would’ve been happy about under different circumstances. 

You decide to keep yourself busy and do some chores to pass time, but by the time you’re done cleaning every crevice and doing laundry, it’s only four in the afternoon.

At some point, Wanda calls to check up on you and asks if you wanted her and Vision to come over and have dinner with you. Vision was planning on cooking for just the two of them, but he told you he had no problem making more. Although the two of them both repeatedly insisted they didn’t mind making the drive to your place, you declined.

It felt wrong to intrude on a special night like tonight. 

After telling Wanda and Vision that you would just order in, the two of you finally end the call.

You weren’t currently that hungry so you decided to just order something later. You make yourself comfortable on the couch and decide to put on a tv show you’ve been wanting to watch. 

A couple episodes later, you finally start to get hungry, and right when you’re about to place an order, your doorbell rings. You shake your head thinking it was just Vision and Wanda coming to share their food, but as you look through the peephole to see Bucky standing outside holding a bouquet of flowers and a stuffed animal you had been wanting, your heart drops along with your jaw.

You look down at your outfit and contemplate quickly changing, but decide against it.

“Wh-what are you doing here? I thought you had to go on a mission?” you ask when you open the door.

“Surprise!” Bucky greets you with a bright smile. He leans in to give you a kiss, before whispering, “Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart.”

Bucky can see that you’re still shocked and at a loss for words, so he just laughs as he pushes past you and makes his way inside. You close the door behind him and watch as he makes his way into the kitchen and lays the flowers on the counter along with the stuffed animal.

“As much as I’m happy that you’re here, why are you here?” your eyebrows are furrowed as you lean against the counter, your arms folded across your chest. 

Bucky sends you a smirk as he quickly puts the flowers in water before making his way over to you. He places his hands on your waist as closes the distance between you two.

“You didn’t really think that I’d miss our first Valentine’s Day together, did you?”

“I didn’t even think you remembered, I mean you haven’t said anything about it all week,” you tell him.

“Yeah, Wanda told me you were a little upset,” Bucky mentions and your eyes widen.

“What a traitor, she wasn’t supposed to say anything,” you say slightly embarrassed as you look off to the side. Then a thought hits you, and you look back at him. “Wait, did you just come here because of what Wanda told you?”

“No, I was already planning on coming here tonight.”

“But what about your mission?” you ask, still confused.

Bucky smiles. “There never was a mission, doll. I made it up because I wanted to surprise you. You really thought I would spend today with Steve instead of you?”

“...Well, he is your best friend.”

“That’s true,” Bucky nods, grabbing your hands in his and placing kisses on your knuckles, “but, you’re my best girl,” he whispers as he looks into your eyes, causing butterflies in your stomach and your face to heat up.

What were you upset about again?

A chuckle leaves Bucky as he watches you shyly smile as you look away.

“You could’ve at least said something this whole week,” you tell him.

“I know, I know,” he admits, “but I was trying to get everything together.”

“Get what together?” you ask.

Bucky stays silent for a moment as if trying to find the right words to say. Then he says, “I want you to move in with me.”

Your eyes widen and your breath hitches as you stare back at him. “What?”

Maybe you inhaled too many chemicals while cleaning.

“I want you to move in with me,” Bucky repeats. “I know we’ve been dating for less than a year and I completely understand if this is too fast for you, but there’s plenty of room for you at my place and I would be much happier if I was able to have you next to me when I wake up every morning.”

Oh. 

You blink.

“You’re serious?” you ask, even though there's no indication on his face to tell you he’s lying. 

Bucky lets go of your hands to place his on either side of your face. “Completely. Like I said, you’re my best girl.” He watches a smile slowly form on your lips. “So, what do you say?”

“Yes,” you say, and Bucky’s grin grows wider, but you hold your hand up. “Don’t start smiling yet, I wasn’t finished.”

Bucky quickly fixes his face and tries to suppress his excitement. “Of course, continue.”

“I say yes, only if you agree to never pull anything like this ever again.”

“Ever?” Bucky repeats, raising an eyebrow.

“Bucky!” you playfully hit his chest.

“I’m just kidding,” he laughs, leaning in to kiss you. Then he pulls away just enough to murmur against your lips, “I’ll just wait until you forget.”

Like what you see? check out my masterlist :)

[inconveniently-discorporated]

I think I have a potentially controversial opinion on Aziraphale and the ending.

So one of the things that made me smile so, SO much, was THIS:

That PURE ABSOLUTE UTTER JOY.

We have not seen ANYTHING like that from demon Crowley. We've seen him be drunk and silly, we've seen him be amused, but we've not seen this.

Now, let's consider what we know about Heaven:

It's never fully populated. ALL of the shots are completely devoid of angels, except for a few, who are almost always just getting somewhere and never really talking to each other.

Where I thought the archangels were a tight clan, it really looks like they're super catty and prone to jealousy. No doubt they would stab each other in the back happily if it came down to it. How much of Heaven is like that, if even the archangels all hate each other?

Aziraphale already has a nervous disposition when he meets Crowley. Is he perhaps an angel that NEVER fit in? Is he familiar with being ostracized by his peers? Just how lonely IS Heaven? Crowley seems to be a pretty powerful angel, and HE doesn't even know that it's all getting shut down in 6000 years -- it's like no one talks to anyone.

Aziraphale, during their whole meeting, looks absolutely smitten. At one point, Crowley goes, "Look at you! You're gorgeous!" and Aziraphale looks over with happy surprise, just before realizing he's not looking at him but rather at what he's created. And then, when Crowley starts going on about making suggestions and asking questions, Aziraphale is IMMEDIATELY concerned and doesn't want him to get into trouble.

Aziraphale is hooked on this angel, and I cannot help but think that this is perhaps the first angel who has ever WELCOMED Aziraphale into his company.

He is hooked on this angel, and the way Crowley smiles is with the light of all the stars he's just created, and it's infectious and it brings a smile to Aziraphale's face as well. And then this angel shields him from the oncoming falling stars.

He is hooked on this angel, and then this angel goes and joins the Great Rebellion, and becomes fallen himself.

"You were an angel once," Aziraphale said, softly, at the bandstand. He remembers.

I think it's reasonable to guess that Heaven has never felt so warm as it did in the presence of millions of exploding stars, next to the (arch?)angel that may perhaps be one of the few (only?) to pay him any positive attention.

I think it's reasonable to assume that Heaven was not the same after Crowley fell. I wouldn't be surprised to find out Aziraphale had wondered about the angel, wondered if he was okay. I would imagine that Aziraphale keeps that picture of pure, angelic, unbridled joy somewhere inside of him.

So, really, is it any surprise that threaded throughout EVERY interaction, Aziraphale has this deep-down feeling that Crowley is good? Would it be any surprise that Aziraphale, an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as he can (which isn't always), feels that if HE is still an angel, then what was done to Crowley was a great injustice?

I think it would make sense that we are shown "before the beginning" not just because it is fun, but because THIS is the foundational context for everything Aziraphale thinks Crowley is, everything Crowley enjoys. I think he remembers this moment and wishes he could live there forever. With Crowley. The two of them with this happiness, forever.

But nothing lasts forever, as much as he wishes it did.

I'm not saying Aziraphale was right with what he did to Crowley at the end of s2. There is a lot I think he did wrong. I think he held onto this picture so tightly, he didn't realize that Crowley had long since let it go, and painted a new one with Aziraphale with all the shades of grey he picked up as he sauntered (or plummeted) vaguely downward (into a pool of boiling sulfur).

I don't think he was right, but I do think he is understandable. I think there was a lot of selfishness, but also some misguided selflessness too. I watched that first scene with angelic Crowley and my heart actually broke a little, because I thought, "What a shame this joy was taken away from him."

I think Aziraphale is trying to right the injustice he feels has been done. But I also think Aziraphale doesn't realize that Crowley can never go back. The concept of falling never crossed Crowley's mind when he suggested that he ask a few questions, and he will NEVER get that kind of innocence back. And Aziraphale doesn't understand, because Heaven has clearly always just been that way for him (he is already aware of the danger of asking questions).

Crowley does not want to go back because he can never go back. He can never be the same angel he was when he thought he could build a universal machine that would crank out stars for eons and eons. He can never be the same angel he was when he thought he could make some suggestions and ask some questions and co-create with THE Creator.

Crowley understands that, and Aziraphale doesn't. But I can understand why Aziraphale would want to try. And I think it's all because of this:

[sugarlywhispers]

b.katsuki x reader (fem) | quirkless!reader, prohero!dynamight, arranged marriage au.

a.n; remember when i said that this serie will not have a specific chronology? okay, this is it. i actually imagined this part being a bit further into their relationship. they are not fully in love -or at least haven't admitted their feelings for each other yet lol-, but they are getting close. remember that😉 SOMEONE SAID ANGST????? YAAAAS, HERE IT IS. MWUAH😘

Fuckin' Marry Me Series | First Part | Second Part | Third Part |

It’s chaos.

All your co-workers are loudly directing each of their assigned heroes as best as they can, but the amount of destruction around complicates each possible view all of you as Quirk & Training Specialists could have.

You run towards your desk, where your computer and monitors are already turned on. You put on the earbuds, connecting yourself to the system. Because of your expertise, you are allowed to hear everyone’s communications, so you use that to understand what is going on around there.

“...Red Riot, watch out from your left. The villain has a second weapon…”

“...Ingenium, if you change your direction to your right, you’ll find-…”

“...Uravity, try lifting them towards the building in front, the ground looks better…”

“...DEKU, YOUR RIGHT IS CLEAR!…”

“...SHOTO, WATCH FOR THE CEILING!!...”

“...DYNAMIGHT, TO YOUR RIGHT!...”

Bingo.

It does not surprise you at all that those three are at the center of it all, fighting the main, strongest villains, but it still makes you take a deep, relieved breath when you hear Bakugou swear very loudly, “you piece of shit villain!”.

He’s okay.

You then focus on finding the connection to your assigned hero.

“Earphone Jack, I’m with you today,” you say immediately as Jirou connects back to you.

“Oh, Y/N, thank God!” She exclaims, “This is a fucking nightmare! I need a way towards–…”

Jirou explains quickly what is happening to you. Apparently, a group of villains had created some sort of machine that was creating havoc, and the sole intention was to damage the infrastructure within a 10 km radius. No apparent deeper reason behind it, which is very suspicious in your opinion. Every villain has a reason behind their actions. But that’s a matter for another moment. You focus now on helping her all the way into the building, hiding and evading every possible encounter with villains, where the main thing is happening.

You feel your shoulders tensing each moment you tell Jirou to hide due to some possible threat coming her way. This kind of job is definitely not for the weak hearts. For some reason you are extremely good at it, quick thinking and fast to react at anything, that’s why in situations like this one you are assigned to any hero who was considered key to finally win. Jirou apparently is the one today. The Big Three are currently distracting all the heavy and strong villains, opening a way for her to disable the machine, and Jirou with her hacking knowledge is perfect for the job.

You can feel some of your co-workers paying attention to you and Earphone Jack at times, adding a bit of pressure on your shoulders. You and her work wonderfully together, and she is always open to your suggestions –sometimes even putting to test some moves you advise and create personally for her and her quirk, even though that is not really part of your job. But you love it completely when one of those actually works and end up being the best move.

“Alright, I’m in,” Jirou whispers and everyone around is listening and watching you cheer loudly. You release a deep and long breath that you didn’t realize you were holding back this entire time.

It takes three minutes for Jirou to turn off the machine and send it into autodestruction.

But in three stupid minutes, a lot happens.

Another building collapses, creating more chaos around. The sound of the explosion is so strong you can even feel the building of the company tremble a bit. Two new big villains appear, making Hero Shoto shout, “SEND RED RIOT AND TENTACOLE, NOW!”

You watch through the system the cameras close to where the Big Three are fighting, and you see it happen.

Deku and Dynamight are fighting strongly, but it’s quite evident how tired and drowned they already are. They are pushing through, hanging in there as much as they can, but it takes one wrong move, one wrong direction.

“...DYNAMIGHT, USE YOUR LEFT CANON…”

One of your co-workers says, and even though you’re not connected in their communication, you can’t avoid yelling, “NO!”, and standing up, looking in a first-row seat how the villain predicts Bakugou’s move, grabbing him by the arm and stabbing him with a big dagger on his stomach that brings Pro Hero Dynamight down.

You saw it happening before everyone else. It had been a wrong directive, a bad decision from your co-worker who was not paying attention to the other side of the monitor, where you could clearly see the villain getting ready, expecting Dynamight’s move.

You watch in what feels like slow motion the contorting body of Bakugou Katsuki, your husband, fall to the floor. Blood spilling down faster than you have ever seen.

“DYNAMIGHT IS DOWN!”

“DYNAMIGHT IS DOWN, SEND BACKUP, NOW!”

“DYNAMIGHT IS DOWN!”

“KACCHAN!”

“DYNAMIGHT IS DOWN!”

“DYNAMIGHT IS…!”

“DYNAMIGHT…”

Everyone has to repeat the message. It’s a directive that everyone follows to help your area adjust and react as fast as you can. Yet hearing the message repeated several times only increases the tight pressure in your chest.

No… NO!

Your whole body is trembling, and for some reason, you can’t feel your hands. You can’t focus on anything else than the image your eyes are seeing through the monitor: Bakugou Katsuki, Pro Hero Dynamight, your husband, lying on the ground over a pool of his own blood.

For being one of the best at your job, for being considered one of the few who always reacts fast and come up with solutions even quicker, for the first time, you don’t know what to do. Your whole body is petrified watching now how Deku picks Dynamight up over a shoulder and jumps away so fast they are barely visible.

Slowly, the ability to hear around you comes back, and you hear two voices. One is Jirou’s, calling your name and trying to make you react, but she’s not in danger. The other one is Izuku.

“Y/N, can you hear me? Answer me. He’s alright! He’s alive. I just left him in the ambulance, they are taking him to the hospital.”

“Y/N, GO.” Jirou’s voice says again, and you do not hesitate anymore.

You know this decision you’re about to make will get you in lots of trouble with your boss. It is imperative for everyone on your floor that you never leave mid-mission. It’s your area's responsibility to foresee that each hero you’re assigned for the day comes back to the company as safe and sound as possible.

Yet the only thing on your mind at the moment is Bakugou. 

The rest can go to hell.

You drop the earbuds over your desk and run.

Everything feels numb and looks like in a blur. You don’t exactly know how you got to the hospital, but you did.

When you arrive there, it’s chaos too. Every doctor and nurse is running everywhere, helping to heal civilians and heroes. You approach a very stressed receptionist and ask for Pro Hero Dynamight and if he’s okay. Your hands are trembling. She says he arrived a couple of minutes before you, but she apologizes saying that she still doesn’t have any more information. You’ll have to wait. And she asks you to go to the waiting room if you’re not injured.

You take a deep breath, hands clasped together tightly, trying to control the trembling in them and follow the woman’s orders. There’s really not much else you can do, causing a scene won’t help you or her.

Your walk towards the waiting room feels like floating, and it’s not a good kind of floating. It feels like your mind is not entirely in you; like you’re moving out of habit. Out of thinking. Not really feeling the soft material of the chair you just sat in. Or the coldness of the table you just rested your forearms over. Your eyes aren’t even focusing on anything, but you do perceive the amount of people there. Some are crying, others are walking from one side of the room to the other anxiously, and others are like you. Quiet, unresponsive to anything. Waiting. Hoping. All they probably care about is receiving some, any kind of news about their loved ones…

Loved ones.

Loved.

Love.

Do you love Bakugou?

Another pang in your chest makes you close your eyes for a moment, holding back the painful feeling. Fuck. It’s too much.

You don’t know how much time you wait there, sitting in that chair, in that exact same position. You just know you’re not moving from there until someone comes.

You just wish it hadn’t been her.

Bakugou Mitsuki enters the waiting room with a storming sound alongside her as she does everywhere she goes. It doesn’t surprise you the theatrical trail of tears painted black thanks to her mascara running down her cheeks, yet her eyes are dry. When she sees you, she walks directly at you.

“Where is he?! Nobody could tell me shit!”

You truly wish she wasn’t there.

“H-He is…” You clear your throat, your voice sounding so broken it even surprised you. “Doctors are tending to him. We have to wait.”

“Fucking stupid brat. He’s alive yet, then?”

You see red. So much red, you’re afraid that the image of you cutting Mitsuki’s throat with your own bare nails isn’t just a mere product of your imagination. But when you hear her heel tapping continuously on the floor annoyingly, waiting for your response, and you see her standing in front of you, you blink relieved it hadn’t been real.

“...Be smarter than her…”

Izuku, you are so good you even became part of my conscience.

You take a long deep breath, before deciding what to answer back. If she is going to act like a bitch at this very moment, then you can too, right?

“Oh, I bet you wish he wasn’t…”

“What the fuck does that mean, you moron?”

“Tell me, Mitsuki,” you know she hates it when you call her by her given name, so you do it with a smirk, “Are you here because of the wellness of your son, or because of his heritage?”

This is the very first time you call out her bullshit, that you even indulge yourself in actually saying what you actually think of her. The expression of pure rage and offense on her face is all worth it.

“You fucking little–...”

“Ms. Bakugou?”

“Yes?”

“Yes?”

Mitsuki answers at the same time you do, and it makes you roll your eyes. This woman really is a pain in the ass.

The doctor looks confused between you two, so he looks again at the chart and clarifies, “Ms. Bakugou Y/N.”

Mitsuki tchs, annoyed and crossing her arms over her chest. You immediately stand up and walk towards the doctor. “That’s me.”

“You are Mr. Bakugou Katsuki’s wife, correct?”

“Yes, I am,” you confirm as the doctor nods and asks you to follow him. You do it, hands still clasped together like dear life.

“He’s okay. He’s still under anesthesia, but he should wake in a couple of minutes. I’ve been informed his body processes and washes it quickly.”

You nod in agreement, following close behind in silence. Watching the many rooms pass by, but only caring about the one you know Bakugou would surely be in.

“He lost a lot of blood, we had to transfuse him. The dagger reached his right lung, but nothing too serious,” you are holding your breath with each statement the doctor is informing you of. “After maybe a month, Mr. Bakugou should be more than recovered. But for now, he’ll need to take it easy.”

Right when he finishes the sentence, his hand grabs the knob of the door that you know will lead you to where your husband is. You simply nod in response before the doctor opens the door. “Ms. Bakugou, you’re allowed to come and go as you please. I’ll tell a nurse to bring you your all-pass card.”

You don’t actually pay much attention to what he says, your eyes are locked over where the man that your heart beats so strongly and loudly for right now is lying over a bed, surrounded by machines and cables that constantly monitor his vital signs.

You don’t even hear when the doctor closes the door and leaves you alone with him.

Your vision blurs, and you’re afraid of moving closer, or touching something that will cause Bakugou any pain. But you’re more afraid that if you don’t get closer, don’t at least hold his warm hand, your heart will beat its way out of your chest towards him.

So you move closer, as carefully as you can. His eyes are closed, his expression so relaxed and serene, you think he looks like he hasn’t just gone through a life-and-death situation. If he hadn’t been all full of cables and as pale as he looks, it would have been the same expression he has when he sleeps at night, next to you. His chest raises slowly with each intake of breath. He is breathing. Your hands unclasp, the trembling is still there, yet you direct one towards where one of his is lying motionlessly on his side. His hand is warm. He is alive.

You feel the tears sliding down your face when Bakugou’s hand suddenly moves. It turns around and holds yours, a bit weak but firmly. Your eyes snap up towards his face. His eyes are slightly open, enough to let you know he is awake. His other hand, the one he can move better, raises and moves towards your face. The thumb cleans the trail your tears created and catches one that just escaped your eye.

“I… told you… n-not to cry… for m-me…” 

A sob finally leaves your mouth as you immediately grab his hand, holding it against your cheek. It’s big enough to almost enclose more than half of your face, your nose caressing his palm as if you were a damn cat, your other hand flies to his forearm and also caresses it. The warmth feels so comforting, so relieving, it makes you cry more.

You hear him snort affectionately, “Crybaby.”

He is okay.

[tthoroughfare]

crush // abby anderson

*･゜ﾟ･* summary: abby is like can u read my mind? i've been watching u! couldn't fight to save ur life, but you look so cool!!! just me rambling about making abby realize she's not straight

*･゜ﾟ･* pairing: canon!abby x reader

*･゜ﾟ･* content: sfw! you two dancing around each other for now. abby being nervous and cute.

*･゜ﾟ･* length: 1.3k

this is part one and i've already written the majority of the rest. just thought this was a good way to break it up :)

recently i am thinking A Lot about the concept of being the girl that makes abby realize she’s not straight ,,, and the first girl she’s ever with

the idea of her being all fumbly and nervous and you having to take the lead. it’s just good

i also love the idea of being very different to her. you’re not a soldier like her, maybe you do something technical and sciencey. you get moved to the base and become friends, and people are just like… kinda surprised that you’re so close, so fast? on paper, you don’t seem to have that much in common but it just works. she likes that you’re different to her, it’s refreshing

you’d already heard a lot about her before you moved. you told her that not long into being friends with her, to which she’d scoffed a little, toying with her fingers. you were in the canteen, the two of you sitting opposite each other on the end of the table, leaving a gap between the rest of the group.

“good or bad?”

“good,” you’d chuckled, taking a bite of your lunch.

she paused, flitting her gaze away as you held eye contact, chewing slowly. “gonna elaborate?”

the corners of your mouth quirked as you swallowed. “just that you’re… pretty impressive. good at what you do. slightly intimidating.”

she scoffed again, eyebrows twitching. “i’m not… do you think i’m… you think that?”

“…impressive or intimidating?”

“either.”

you’d looked downwards, pausing before meeting her eyes with a teasing smile on your face. “you’re very tall.”

she didn’t tell you this at the time, but she’d heard things about you, too. she hadn’t paid it much mind at the time, but there had been a couple of mentions of a scientist girl moving in to help out with a new assignment full time, and that she was, ‘like, a genius’

also, manny had said something to her along the lines of ‘apparently she’s hot’, while raising his eyebrows with a cheeky smirk

she’d just rolled her eyes

but then she meets you for the first time, and okay. he wasn’t wrong

it’s only a chaste introduction as you cross paths one day, but she has to make a real effort to keep her cool. she doesn’t understand it, she’s just affected by you, just has to know you

and then she does know you, and she still wants to know you more. it’s this feeling, this drive, always wanting more more more

it sends her crazy. the fact it takes her so long to realize she has a crush on you makes her look back and laugh at her own naivety

she finds out you’re gay maybe a month into being friends with you, when you’re hanging out with her at the library. she never gave much thought to the fact you seemed to follow her around, spend nearly all your spare time with her. she figured it was just because you didn’t know anyone else that well yet.

she’s quietly reading on one side of the couch, while you try your best to get some work done on the other, papers strewn over the coffee table in front. it’s difficult to concentrate, though, even though you’re fully aware how inundated you are. one of her legs is slung up on the couch, bent at the knee, and you’re so conscious of the proximity.

after a good while of trying and failing to get anywhere, you look up at her and lean in a little. “hey, abby?”

she looks up from her book, acknowledging you.

“i’m bored.”

she chuckles as she sits up, closing the pages around her middle finger to keep her place. “c’mon, we need you to… save the world.”

you let out a small, fond scoff, putting your notebook and pen down on the coffee table. “that’s really… not what i do. appreciate the delusion of grandeur you’ve just given me, though.”

she watches you with a smile, not meeting your eyes as you sit back on the couch, shuffling around to face her. “so…” you begin.

“so…?” she parrots, raising her eyebrows slightly.

“what went on between you and owen?”

she’s a little shocked at your bluntness, laughing nervously and shifting in her seat. as far as she was aware, you didn’t even know anything about that. “what?”

you pull a face. “come on, i’m not stupid. i notice things.”

in truth, you’re using the question as a trojan horse to figure out if she likes women. you are genuinely curious, though, and right now the conversation sounds a hell of a lot better than doing what you’re actually supposed to be.

she pauses, eyes flitting around the room. “uh… we were together for a while. and now we’re not.”

you nod slowly, waiting for an elaboration that never comes. “that’s it?”

abby shrugs awkwardly, and you feel a little bad for pushing, holding your hands up. “sorry, sorry. i don’t mean to pry.”

“s’okay.” she messes with the novel, eyes trained on it as she runs the pad of her index over the closed pages. “what about you? you got a boyfriend?”

“i, uh… i was with someone. it didn’t work out.”

she hums in sympathy. “he a scientist, too?”

“she’s a medic.”

abby freezes, looking up at you, mouth falling open slightly. she feels stupid for assuming. “oh, shit, sorry. i didn’t realize you were — sorry. not that there’s anything wrong with that.” she mentally kicks herself for the last statement. of course there isn’t. she doesn’t even know why she said it.

you laugh, amused by her babbling and the way the tops of her cheeks turn pink. “you’re good, you’re good.”

she lets out a final, ‘sorry’, gaze darting from you, to her book, to the shelf on your right. then, she looks back at you, feeling the need to break the slightly uncomfortable silence that had fallen. “anyway… her loss.”

you chuckle. “owen’s loss. who needs ‘em?”

“who needs ‘em?” she repeats, breathing out a laugh.

after the revelation, something shifts for abby. she doesn’t know why, but finding out that you like women makes her feel… different (?) about you

not in a bad way. just different

she’d always looked at you and thought you were beautiful. possibly more beautiful than any girl she’d ever seen

and she knew she was nervous around you; she was normally pretty outgoing and didn’t really have an issue talking to anyone. but when it came to you she’d overthink every sentence, words getting caught in her throat. she just felt such a need to impress you, wanted to say and do everything right

she just thought that she really, really wanted to be friends with you. that she thought you were cool, and admirable, and funny, and smart, and liked being around you

but finding out that you’re gay just makes her… think. on a whole other level she’d never really looked into

knowing that you could, maybe, maybe, be a viable option sends her mind reeling with a whole host of confusing thoughts more than she’d like to admit

she’d never really put much thought into her sexuality. she’d always just assumed she was straight. sure, she’d looked at women before, gotten a little flustered around pretty girls, but just guessed everyone did

but when it was you… like. you… it was a whole other ballgame

and then, over a few months, she starts thinking about silly things like how it would feel to touch you — really touch you, not just the friendly brushes you already shared. how soft you’d feel, how it would be to have her fingers threaded through your hair

then she starts thinking about if she’d maybe want to kiss you

she decides she’s not against the idea

[bring-forth-his-sac]

ok so I saw this mouth watering gif and wrote a small drabble for it but with Negan instead of Jason Crouse

(warning: kinda nsfw)

“What are you reading?!”.

You stand in the doorway of the bedroom, mouth agape at the confusing sight you’re met with. In front of you is Negan, still in bed after your morning romp, but with an old newspaper in his hands from when the world still worked.

Negan gives a slight shrug. There’s a mischievous smirk on his lips that tells you he’s pleased with your reaction. 

“What?" he replies innocently, pretending to not understand your surprise. "I'm just keeping up with what’s happening in the world, Sweetcheeks" Negan casually flips to the next page, acting as if the newspaper isn’t at least a couple years old.

“But where did you even get that?” you question, coming closer to the bed “Do you have a stack of old newspapers just laying around?”.

Negan adjusts his glasses as he responds, "One of my men found it on the last supply run. Why, you interested in giving it a read when I'm finished?". 

You decide to play along, lounging across the end of the bed and propping your head up with your elbow. "Anything interesting in there?" your tone is one of mock curiosity.

Negan thinks for a moment, skimming the contents of the page in front of him. “The Yankees won again, a murder here, another war there,” he says uninterested before slowly trailing off “and… oh shit…”.

As much as you don’t want to give him the satisfaction, your head perks up as he hesitates. 

Negan's gaze slowly shifts from the newspaper to you, his expression growing sombre. In a quiet voice you ask, "Yeah... what else?". Your question hangs in the air, a few beats of silence passing before Negan answers you.

“... Stock market’s down”. 

You immediately scoff, realizing you've been duped. "Well, damn. I fell hook, line, and sinker for that one," you mumble, shaking your head. 

"I don’t know how I’ll go on," Negan declares dramatically, fully committed to maintaining his facade. He knows he’s got you right where he wants you, unable to hide the amusement in his eyes.

You stretch out before slowly crawling closer to him, a teasing smile on your lips. "I’m guessing you’ll need some time to properly process this heartbreaking news, huh?" you quip, moving towards him with a hint of playfulness.

"If only I had some kind of distraction..." Negan laments, pretending to be lost in thought as he continues “Some kinda hot distraction that has a nice ass…”

Acting quickly, you straddle him and swipe the newspaper from his hands, tossing it aside onto the bedroom floor. “Stock market might be down but I can definitely feel something else coming up” you grind your hips against him, feeling his stiffening arousal.

Negan grins widely as you continue to move against him. "You think this is gonna make the headlines?" he teases, his hands cupping your ass and slowly kneading the soft skin.

You roll your eyes, already anticipating the barrage of puns that are sure to come. "Don't even," you warn and before he can speak, you lean in and kiss him passionately, effectively silencing any further attempts to make a joke. 

Negan eagerly returns the kiss, savoring the sensation of your lips. Without hesitation, he cunningly slides his tongue into your mouth, the taste of him making your body ache for more.

As you bring your hand down to grip him, Negan resists the temptation to make another pun just yet. Instead, he decides to hold off on the inevitable one-liners until afterwards, unable to stop himself from giving you his full attention.

[tortillamastersblog]

Where Light Bends Wrong - Part 16 | Wednesday Addams

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Warnings: none

Summary: You’ve kept your secret buried and your power quiet, until Wednesday Addams came to Nevermore and turned your whole world upside down.

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆ ⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧

“Fire will rain.”

“Huh?” I look up right as Wednesday slides into the seat next to me. 

“Fire will rain,” she repeats, “It was burned into the front lawn of the school last night.” I glance around to make sure no one is listening to us as they settle in and get ready for class.

“I know, but–”

“It must have something to do with Crackstone and the monster,” she cuts me off, pulling out her notebook and pen, which, of course, is a fancy black fountain pen.

“Mhmm…” Since our talk yesterday we’ve decided to do everything to solve this mystery together. Crackstone killed one of my own, and even though it’s been decades, I can’t let it go. It’s also the reason why I’m no longer all too bitter about what Wednesday did. Yes, I still don’t trust her fully and I’m still annoyed by it, but it’s no longer important. Not when people are literally getting killed. “So, do you know how it’s connected to Crackstone?”

Wednesday huffs in frustration and tightens her grip on her pen.  “No, not yet.”

Since Eugene was attacked, there haven’t been any new leads which is making me nervous. Something is coming, I can feel it, and I don’t like it. 

“I did however come across some very eye-opening information,” she says quietly, glancing at me.

I raise an eyebrow despite the way I want to squirm under her dark eyes.  “Do tell.”

She makes sure no one is listening before leaning closer and saying, “Weems is a shapeshifter.”

My jaw drops. “What?”

Instead of repeating herself, Wednesday adds, “It was she who appeared to us as Rowan. She’s helping cover up his murder.”

Completely bewildered, I lean back in my chair and tug on her sleeve to get her to look at me properly. She goes willingly and doesn’t pull her arm back when I keep holding onto her sleeve. “What about his parents?”

Wednesday’s eyes dart to my hand before looking back up. “They’re in on it. His telekinesis has gone to his head lately and he tried to kill me twice, so they’re not going to come out with the truth.”

I want to say something else, but then Thornhill walks in and begins her lesson. I see a flicker of surprise in her eyes when they land on Wednesday and me, sitting next to each other. It makes me realize I’m still holding onto her, so I quickly let go and sit up straighter.

Wednesday’s eyes burn into the side of my head for a moment, but then she turns back in her seat and picks up her pen again.

Thornhill starts rambling about some moon plants, but I’m only half-listening.

Weems is a shapeshifter… That explains why fake Rowan’s emotions felt so familiar when we bumped into each other after the real Rowan was killed.

Why she’s trying to cover it up isn’t a surprise since she’s always been obsessed with the school’s image. I just don’t understand why she wasn’t honest with me of all people. I thought we had a better relationship than that.

“What are you doing this afternoon?”

I snap out of my thoughts and glance to the side, finding Wednesday already looking at me with an unreadable expression.

“Not sure yet. I was going to do some homework and maybe go for a run to clear my head. Why?”

“I was planning on going to visit Eugene,” she says quietly, while Thornhill keeps teaching. And even though she doesn’t say anything else, the way she says it makes it clear she’s asking if I want to come with her.

I frown slightly. Eugene being in the hospital is a reminder of how she ditched us for the Rave’N, but after a moment, I nod and mumble that I’ll go with her.

I pause outside Eugene’s hospital room when I hear Wednesday’s quiet voice, having just stepped out to grab something to drink from the vending machine.

“I haven’t always been against birthdays. Each one reminds me I’m a year closer to death’s cold embrace,” she says, and when I peek into the room I see her sitting on the small chair I pulled up next to his bed. “I mean, what’s not to like about that?”

A soft smile tugs at my lips, but I stay back, granting her this moment with him. I know eavesdropping is wrong, but I’d be able to hear her anywhere in this hospital, so I just stay at the door.

Eugene is still in a coma, but the doctors have said he’s healing nicely and that there’s a possibility he can hear us talking to him even though he’s not conscious.

“Besides, my parents always made sure my birthdays were memorable,” she goes on, reminding me that I still need to get her a present.

Enid cornered me after class this morning and told me it was Wednesday’s birthday, but I haven’t congratulated her yet because, like I said, I don’t have a present yet and because Enid told me not to say anything until tonight because she planned a surprise party for the raven haired girl to which I’ve also been invited, of course.

“But now parties and presents and games, it…It all feels so trivial,” she says quietly, which makes my heart ache.

I might have forgiven her for what she did at the Rave’N, but there’s still some weird tension between us and I don’t know how much I can trust her. Hearing her open up like that makes me soften though since it’s a reminder that, once again, underneath all her sarcasm and wit, there’s a young woman who feels just like everyone else. 

I don’t want to invade her privacy any more than I already have, so I step into the room again, clearing my throat softly so she knows I’m back.

She doesn’t turn but her shoulders stiffen for a second before relaxing again as I step up next to her, looking at Eugene on his hospital bed. He’s still being ventilated by a machine, but his visible cuts and bruises have healed nicely, making it look like he’s simply sleeping.

Wednesday’s heartbeat flutters and I glance down at her to see her clasping her hands in her lap. Grief and guilt radiates off her, completely unfiltered for a change, so I reach out and tentatively place a hand on her shoulder. 

“It’s not your fault,” I say, making her look up. 

She sighs but doesn’t shrug off my hand as she looks back at Eugene.  

“You can’t possibly think that. If I’d been there–”

“You could have gotten hurt, too. Or worse…” I cut in, making her eyes snap back to me. There’s a vulnerable glint to them, and she blinks a couple of times, almost as if blinking back tears which makes my throat close slightly.

“What happened, happened, Wednesday.” I say, my voice dropping slightly. “We can’t change the past, but we can look forward and try our best to stop something like this from happening again.”

Wednesday unclasps her hands in her lap, her fingers twitching almost as if she’s about to raise her hand, but then someone clears their throat behind us, making both of us whirl around.

My hand drops off her shoulder and she gets off her chair, standing in front of me.

“Doctor Kinbott.” She acknowledges the therapist, who steps into the room with a bouquet of yellow-ish roses.

“I haven’t seen you since our session with our family, which was…certainly one I won’t forget,” the blonde woman says, a glint of curiosity in her eyes as her eyes dart between me and Wednesday. When they finally settle on me she says, “You must be Y/N.”

My eyes narrow because we’ve never spoken before, which makes her smile disarmingly and add, “Weems has told me all about you.”

“Hmm.” I send her a tight lipped smile and step closer to Wednesday, not liking the vibe she’s giving off. Yes, she’s acting kind, but there’s something about her that irks me.

“Well…” She clears chuckles awkwardly at my silence and turns her attention back to Wednesday. “How are things with your parents?”

“My mother and I spent some quality time together…Got our hands dirty,” Wednesday says which almost makes me chuckle, especially when Kinbot asks if they were gardening and Wednesday dryly corrects her,  “Gravedigging, actually.”

Kinbott’s eyebrows fly up, but she doesn’t comment on it as Wednesday goes on to tell her how she managed to keep her father out of prison before asking, “What brings you here?”

“Eugene’s mom’s-” Kinbott says, gesturing at the unconscious boy with a thin-lipped smile–” I’m working with them. Trauma like this leaves emotional scars on the whole family.”

She crosses the room and puts the flowers she brought into a vase on Eugene’s bedside table.

God, those flowers. They’re so…bleak. 

“They had to head home for a while so I promised I’d check in on him,” she goes on before turning back to us. 

Wednesday subtly shifts back a little since Kinbott is now closer than before. She brushes against my front and I go to move back to give her some space, but the chair is right behind me and she obviously doesn’t seem to mind the proximity.

The mood in the room has shifted, from somber before, to somewhat tense now, and Wednesday must feel it too because she glances up at me over her shoulder for a second before saying, “We’ll leave you to it.”

Kinbott eyes us with a weird glint in her eyes for a moment. Then she dips her chin and wishes us a good day as Wednesday and I leave the hospital room.

It’s not until we’re outside again, breathing in the crisp autumn air that she turns to me with a thoughtful frown pulling on her lips. “Was that strange?”

“A bit, yeah,” I admit, glancing around the town square.“But Kinbott’s a therapist, so what’d you expect? All therapists are a little weird.” 

I know therapy can be very beneficial for some people, but the experiences I’ve made so far –Therapy was mandatory when I was still in the system– have not been so pleasant. Not because the therapists were bad or anything, I just never clicked with any of them which made it impossible for me to open up and reap the benefits of therapy.

A soft snort makes my eyes widen and snap back to Wednesday. She’s got her arms crossed, but there’s an actual smile playing on her lips. “Had some bad experiences with therapists, have we?” she states rather than asks which stuns me for a second.

She’s actually joking. Or, well, kind of joking.

“I–Yeah.”

She sighs and looks away, her smile vanishing without a trace. “Tell me about it.”

Oh. 

So, she was kind of joking, but there’s some truth to what she’s saying.

Damn, if I knew things would get so emotional –first the moment before Kinbott interrupted us, and now this– I don’t know if I would have agreed to come with her.

She’s hurt me. Badly. And yet ever since it happened I keep finding myself in situations like this where we inadvertently open up to each other in some way or another.

I clear my throat when I realize I’m just staring at her and push away the fluttering feeling that spreads in the pit of my stomach. “So…Xavier? You said he might be the monster.”

Wednesday uncrosses her arms to clasp her hands in front of her. “Yes, but I don’t have any proof yet.”

I huff. It’s frustrating that we can’t seem to get closer to solving this thing. “What about Weems?”

“What about her?” 

“Could she be the monster?” I ask. “I mean, you said she was a shapeshifter.”

“She is, but I don’t think she’s the monster. She can turn into other people, not animals, or whatever that monster is. She also has alibis for all the attacks,”  she explains which makes me bite the inside of my cheek.

She’s right. Weems is not the monster. Even just thinking that was me grasping at straws because there’s no other lead and the fact that Weems has kept her ability hidden from me made me wonder what else she was hiding.

What else is she hiding?

She knows all of my secrets. She knows what I am, and I thought I could trust her, but can I really? 

There’s a cold breeze that makes Wednesday shudder and I check my watch to see that it’s getting pretty late.

“We should go,” I say. 

Wednesday nods, but says, “Wait, I want some coffee before we go.”

I raise an eyebrow since I know I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep if I had any myself, but I don’t object. I just gesture for her to lead the way and follow her across the town square and into the Weathervane.

Iris isn’t there, I realize as soon as we walk in, but Tyler is, which makes me clench my jaw. He seems to share my disdain because when his eyes harden when they land on me. I feel that familiar, suppressed rage radiating off him, but try my best to ignore it, focusing instead on Wednesday’s muted calm instead.

“Hi there. Haven’t seen you in a while.” He smiles sweetly at the raven haired girl, completely ignoring me.

“I’ve been busy. A quad over ice, please. To go,” she states, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t fill me with some satisfaction how Tyler’s face drops a little at how short she’s being.

“Okay…” He eyes me reluctantly and adds, “Anything for you?”

I shake my head and move to the side of the counter while he gets to work. 

Wednesday chews on her bottom lip, deep in thought, and I watch her for a second, taking in her angular face and the way her freckles dote her nose and cheekbones before touching her elbow gently to get her to look at me.

“What are you thinking?” I ask quietly, shifting closer when I see Tyler glancing at us from behind the coffee machine.

“How we’re going to move forward,” she says. “I’ve been thinking of ways to contact Goody and I think I’m going to hold a séance when we get back.”

I quirk up an eyebrow. “A séance?”

“Yes. To talk to Goody.” She looks out of the café’s windows and watches an elderly man stroll past.

“Have you done something like that before?” I ask which makes her nod. “And? Did it work?”

Her dark eyes find mine again, and for a second I’m scared she might be annoyed at all my questions, but then she just nods again and says, “Yes. I have a feeling trying to contact Goody will be in vain though. She seems to evade me every time I need her most, but it’s the only lead I have at the moment.”

“Hmm.” I don’t know what else to say because I’m not sure I really believe séances work, but then again, who am I to doubt her when we literally attend a school with werewolves and other outcasts. A séance working isn’t really as far fetched as one might think, but I can’t help but be sceptical anyway.

“Here you go.”

Tyler’s voice makes both of us turn. Wednesday takes the to-go cup he’s holding out and goes to pay him, but he shoots her a saccharine smile and says, “Don’t worry. It’s on the house.”

Wednesday eyes him with barely veiled suspicion, before thanking him quietly and turning to leave without another word.

I follow her and even though I’ve grown to dislike Tyler recently, I push my pride aside in favor of being polite and say, “Bye, Tyler.”

He doesn’t say anything back, and just watches me leave with a bitter frown.

‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆ ⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧

Bit of a filler again, but I haven't uploaded in a few days, and I wanted to give you guys something before the next part which will be quite action packed...

Also, thanks for all your comments under the last part. Love you all <33

Tag list: @sunshinez4 @protozoario @automaticpatroltragedy @mamas-evil-hag @theallseer97 @hellenheaven @iwshemj2 @jizzuo308 @trashcannotbealive @gloriousvariant @brocoliisscared @1863rdorv-reader @fck-this-name @iamprodigious