#'It is with a heavy heart and a sense of deep gratitude to have ever been in his presence

[mrschtappen]

𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄

I : The Call of the Circuit -> II : Dreams Ignited (soon) -> III : Untitled (soon)

masterlist

Max Verstappen x Schumacher!reader

Synopsis: childhood friends Max Verstappen and you, the daughter of racing legend Michael Schumacher, evolve from best friends to fierce rivals to teammates. maybe then to lovers....?

Monday, 10th December, 2018 Faenza, Italy

You sat alone at your new office, your eyes fixed on the glowing screen of your phone. The Twitter announcement you had posted earlier that day was still causing ripples across the internet, igniting a firestorm of reactions and responses from fans and followers around the world.

As you scrolled through the flood of comments, memes, and well-wishes flooding your feed, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. The overwhelming wave of support and excitement from your supporters served as a poignant reminder of the incredible journey that lay ahead.

You made sure you turned off the lights of your new office when you were about to go. Settling inside your Audi R8, the soft chime from your phone took your attention away from driving.

As you read Max's message about bringing a Michael Schumacher merch from Germany, a wave of mixed emotions washed over you. The mention of your father's name, especially in connection with Germany, brought back vivid memories of the ski accident that had changed your lives forever in 2013.

your heart felt heavy, a subtle ache resurfacing as you recalled the challenging times that followed your father's accident. The uncertainty, the hope, and the unwavering support from loved ones, including Max, during those difficult years played like a reel in your mind.

Despite the pain and the bittersweet nostalgia, you weren't angry with Max for bringing up those memories. In fact, you felt a sense of gratitude for his thoughtfulness and the comfort of your shared history. Max had been a pillar of strength and understanding throughout your journey, and his genuine care and friendship meant more to you than any merchandise ever could.

Sitting alone in your car, you took a moment to let the emotions wash over you. You reflected on your journey and the pivotal decision to join Formula 1, a deep sense of determination and purpose filled your heart. Since you were three years old, the dream of racing in F1 had been a beacon of hope and ambition, driving you to push boundaries and defy expectations.

You knew that stepping onto the track wasn't just about fulfilling your childhood dreams; it was also a tribute to your father and the legacy he had built. The memories of watching Michael Schumacher's triumphant moments, especially his 6th championship title, had ignited a spark within you, fueling her passion and commitment to chase after her own aspirations.

Despite the challenges and the weight of the past, you felt a profound sense of gratitude and pride. You knew that your journey was a testament to your resilience, determination, and the unwavering support of those who believed in you, including Max.

Sunday, 12th October, 2003 Suzuka, Japan

As a three-year-old, you may not have comprehended the complexity of Formula One racing, the excitement buzzing in the air, the infectious energy of the crowd through the grandstands. The vibrant colors of the racing cars zooming past, the deafening roar of engines, and the flashes of cameras captured your attention, painting a kaleidoscope of sensory impressions.

Although your understanding was limited at such a tender age, the sight of Michael Schumacher, dressed in his iconic red racing suit, elicited a sense of pride and admiration within your young heart.

"That's my dad !" your little fingers pointed at the red car zooming the finish line, practically screaming at everyone as you started clapping then. 

The warmth of your mother's embrace welcomed you as you cheered together, caught up in the euphoria of the moment.

your eyes wide with wonder as you watched your father bask in the spotlight and as Michael Schumacher descended from the podium, triumphant and beaming with joy, his eyes sought out you, your mother and your older brother Mick in the crowd. With a tender smile, he reached out to scoop up his young daughter, lifting you into his arms and hoisting you high above the crowd.

the cameras flashed and the crowd erupted into applause, you enjoyed the attention, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world to be held in the arms of your racing hero.

The image of your bond captured for all to see, you knew that this was a moment you would cherish forever—a moment when you felt truly seen and cherished by the man who meant the world to you. 

your dad, Michael Schumacher. 

Saturday, 27th November 2003. Gland, Switzerland

you stepped onto the karting track for the very first time, your heart pounding with excitement and nerves. The whole family was there along with your dad's friend's family, the Vertsappens. With your tiny hands gripping the steering wheel of your go-kart, you were confused on how the whole kart operates. 

"You've got this schatzi !" You heard your dad cheer for you from a distance, calling you a nickname that means sweetie in German. 

Frustrated, you spoke 

"How do I do this ?"

Max Verstappen, the seasoned six-year-old racer, flashed you a mischievous grin as he leaned over to offer his expertise.

"Watch and learn, little rookie. First, you gotta push down on the pedal like this..."

With a swift motion, Max demonstrated, his foot pressing down on the accelerator pedal with practiced ease. You watched intently, your eyes wide with fascination.

"Like this?"

you mimicked Max's actions, but your foot hesitated on the pedal, unsure of the right amount of pressure to apply.

Max chuckled, reaching over to gently guide your foot.

"Almost there, y/n ! You just need to press a little harder."

you nodded eagerly, determined to master the art of go-karting with Max's help.

"Got it! Thanks, Maxie !"

As you zip around the track, the conversation turned to your shared love for Formula One racing.

"Do you think we'll ever drive in Formula One, Max ?"

Max grinned, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

"Of course! And when we do, I'll be the world champion, then Mick and you will be my trusty sidekicks."

you rolled her eyes playfully, a giggle escaping your lips.

"Dream on, Max! I'll be the one leaving you in the dust!"

"Hey, you two ! How's it going ? " a familiar voice chimed in from behind you, causing both Max and you to turn around 

Max grinned, giving Mick a playful nod.

"We're having a blast ! little rookie here is a natural behind the wheel."

you blushed at the praise from Max 

"Thanks, Maxie ! And hey, Mick, I'm going to beat you someday !"

Mick laughed heartily, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Is that so ? Well, I look forward to the challenge ! Let's see who can get to formula one first" 

Your banter filled the air with laughter as the three of you raced around the track, your friendship growing stronger with each passing lap. And as you crossed the finish line second, just a few millisecond behind Max, a smile grew wide on your face.

"Looks like you've got a prodigy, are you sure this is her first time ? She's a natural" Max's dad said, a chuckle escaped from your dad

You crossed the finish line just 4 tenths of a second later than someone who was 3 years older than you. You can feel the pride surging even when you were just so little.

"wow you're fast" your older brother said, giving you a high five as you returned it enthusiastically with a tiny jump

"yeah, not so bad little rookie !" Max also gave you a high five

you smile with your tiny teeths showing, your dad embraced you, lifting you up in the air

"my daughter is a soon to be formula one racer, and the world shall know you as for you are, not the daughter of a six time world champion but y/n Schumacher."

you couldn't help but feel grateful for everyone's guidance and support, knowing that with them by your side, you knew you were able to achieve anything.

Thursday, 14 March 2019 Melbourne, Australia ROUND ONE

As you took your first steps out to greet the fans, a wave of exhilaration and gratitude washed over you. The energy from the crowd was palpable, a mix of excitement, anticipation, and overwhelming support. The sight of fans waving flags, holding up banners, and wearing team colors was a surreal and heartwarming experience for you.

Walking along the barricades, you were met with a sea of merchandise bearing your name and face, along with the iconic Michael Schumacher memorabilia that fans had brought along. The presence of the Michael Schumacher merchandise added an extra layer of emotion to the moment, reminding you of the legacy you were a part of and the immense responsibility that came with it.

As you greeted fans, signing autographs and posing for photos, several fans couldn't help but comment on the striking resemblance between you and your legendary father, Michael Schumacher. Their kind words and compliments about your beauty and resemblance to your father filled you with a sense of pride and humility.

Amidst the flurry of interactions, one fan caught your attention with a cheeky remark that left both of you laughing.

you backed away with laughter, cupping your mouth, looking at a marriage certificate by an older fanboy, a good looking one you couldn't lie.

"I'm 19 !" You exclaimed, a wide laugh still visible on your face

"Maybe in a few years !" You joked, before moving to another fan, signing her cap with the number 57 on it, a number you chose to drive for.

It was media day today which means there's no driving and the press conference began with Lewis Hamilton from Mercedes, Sebastian Vettel of Ferrari, Daniel Ricciardo from Renault, Max Verstappen of Red Bull Racing and of course yourself, y/n Schumacher from Scuderia Toro Rosso.

"We’re gathered under very sad circumstances, following the news that Charlie Whiting, the FIA’s Director of Formula One died during the early hours of this morning. I’d like to start this press conference by asking each of the drivers present for their thoughts and memories of Charlie. Lewis, could we start with you, please?" Lewis spoke to the mic

"I’ve known Charlie since I started in 2007. I made some comments this morning on my Instagram. It may have not worked, as I think it’s down but obviously incredibly shocked this morning to hear the sad news and my thoughts and prayers are with him and his family. What he did for this sport, I mean, his commitment… he really was a pillar, as Toto said, such an iconic figure in the sporting world and he contributed so much for us, so may he rest in peace."

as the other drivers stated their comments regarding the passing of the late Charlie Whiting, it was your turn to answer

"How about y/n ? I believe this has come to a big shock as well as your father was also racing when he was the f1 racing director ?"

"yes, my father raced during Charlie's tenure as F1 Racing Director. I've met Charlie a few times and found him to be a wonderful person. His dedication to safety and fairness in Formula One was unmatched. Charlie's ability to connect with everyone in the paddock and his unwavering passion for the sport made him irreplaceable. My thoughts are with his family, friends, and the entire FIA community during this tough time. His legacy in Formula One will always be remembered"

as they continued tho the next question, you were shocked as to how bold and daring for this male interviewer to ask the whole lot of drivers with you

"Given the whispers around the paddock about nepotism getting y/n Schumacher this seat due to her father's legacy, and considering she is the sole female on the grid, do you drivers genuinely believe she is as competent as the other drivers, or do you acknowledge a potential gap in her skill?"

As the interviewer's words cut through the tension of the room, your face tightened, a blend of disbelief and frustration clouding your features. The weight of the question bore down on you, amplifying your discomfort and vulnerability in that moment.

You felt exposed, the spotlight glaringly bright, intensifying the scrutiny you felt as the only female driver on the grid.

Sensing your discomfort, a subtle shift occurred amongst the drivers on the panel. Eyes darted towards you, expressions reflecting concern and empathy.

Among them, Max Verstappen's gaze lingered a moment longer, his usually confident demeanor softened by genuine concern for his fellow driver.

The collective silence that followed the question seemed to stretch on, the atmosphere thick with tension. But within you, a resilient fire ignited. Drawing strength from the supportive glances of your peers and your own unwavering determination, you steadied yourself. You would not let this moment define you or shake your belief in your own capabilities.

"could we start with you again Lewis ?"

Lewis's expression tightened, clearly upset by the nature of the question.

"Honestly, I find it disappointing that in this day and age, we're still having these discussions. Women have proven time and time again that they can compete at the highest levels of motorsport. I've been a staunch supporter of women in racing, and I've seen firsthand the talent and determination they bring to the track."

"Look, in Formula 1, everyone's path to the grid is different. Yes, some of us come from racing families or have certain connections, but ultimately, talent and hard work are what count. I've faced skepticism throughout my career for various reasons, and I've always chosen to let my performance on the track speak for itself. As for y/n, she's shown promise and skill in her journey to F1. The sport is better when we have diverse talents, and I believe she deserves her place here"

"Thank you for the answer, could we move on to Vettel next ?"

Vettel's brows furrowed, eyes narrowing with a mix of disbelief and growing indignation. "It's disappointing, really, to hear these questions. Every driver on this grid has earned their seat through dedication, hard work, and skill. Formula 1 is a tough environment, and to suggest that anyone is here purely because of their name or gender undermines the effort we all put in. I've met y/n and seen her commitment firsthand. She belongs here as much as anyone else."

Then they moved on to Danny. His jovial demeanor momentarily shifted as he heard the interviewer's pointed question directed at you. Being someone who often exudes positivity and fairness, Daniel values meritocracy and respects the grind every driver goes through to reach Formula 1. Hearing a fellow driver being questioned on the basis of nepotism and gender struck a chord with him.

"Ah, the old nepotism and gender card. It's not a new question in F1, but it's one that misses the mark. Sure, having a famous last name might open some doors initially, but it won't keep them open if you can't deliver on track. As for being the only female driver, I think it's about time we focus on skills and capabilities rather than gender. I've had the chance to get to know y/n, and she's got talent. End of story."

Then they moved on to Max, who is known for his fierce competitiveness and straightforwardness. It was clear that he was infuriated by the audacious implication and the discomfort it caused you.

Seeing you visibly uncomfortable only intensified Max's emotions. He felt a surge of protective anger, recognizing the unfair scrutiny and challenges you faced as the only female driver on the grid. In that moment, the friendship among drivers was evident, as Max's concern for your well-being was palpable.

His eyes flashed with fury as he seized the opportunity to address the interviewer's audacious question. His voice dripped with venom as he unleashed his pent-up frustration.

"Firstly, the audacity to question anyone's place on this grid based on gender or family name is just absolute garbage. She's earned her spot on this grid through sheer talent and hard work, just like the rest of us. Anyone who suggests otherwise is either blind or just plain ignorant."

His words were sharp and cutting, each syllable laced with disdain for the backward mindset behind the question. Max's aggression was palpable as he continued to tear down the baseless accusations.

"In case you missed it, Formula 1 is about racing, talent, dedication, and hard work, not gender or who your parents are. It's disappointing to still be facing these backward stereotypes in this day and age. We should be focusing on racing and the incredible talent we have on this grid, not trying to create controversy where there isn't any . For the record, I've raced alongside her, and I've known her my entire life. Y/n is an extraordinary racer through and through, and she's proven herself time and time again."

He paused, taking a breath to temper his rising emotions before continuing,

"So, how about we focus on the actual sport instead of dredging up this garbage ?"

Max's aggressive defence reverberated through the room, leaving no doubt as to where he stood on the matter and silencing any further attempts to undermine your place in the sport.

As you listened to Max's vehement defense, a mixture of emotions washed over you. Initially, there was a sense of relief and gratitude. Max's and the other drivers' unwavering support and fierce defence of you felt like a shield against the unfair scrutiny you had faced. It was reassuring to know that your fellow drivers stood your her and were willing to call out the injustice.

Your eyes briefly met Max's intense gaze, conveying a silent thank you and mutual understanding of the gravity of the situation.

Then it was finally your turn to answer

With a poised demeanor, you addressed the room, your voice steady and confident.

"I'd like to extend my sincere appreciation to my fellow drivers for their support. It speaks volumes about the fellowship and respect we share as competitors."

Pausing momentarily, you continued with a touch of irony,

"Regarding the questions raised about nepotism and being the only female on the grid, I was under the impression that Formula 1 valued skill, determination, and performance above all else. My presence here is a testament to my commitment, capability, and qualities I believe are fundamental to every driver on this grid."

Maintaining your composure, you added, "While these questions may have been posed, my focus remains unwaveringly on racing. I am here to compete, to challenge, and to succeed, just like every other driver. I look forward to letting my performance on the track speak for itself. Besides, I don't see 19 men ahead of me, I see 19 challenges to be conquered."

With this response, you gracefully but firmly addressed the issue, highlighting your professionalism and determination to rise above the noise and excel in your chosen profession.

#f1 #f1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #max verstappen #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #f1 x oc #f1 2024 #f1 fandom #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #charles leclerc #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #toro rosso #max verstappen angst #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen scenario #max verstappen au

[vivalabunbun]

The Aftermath of Summer

Summary: Who stays to watch the credits roll at the end of a film?

Word Count: 3.4k

Tags: Alhaitham X Fem!Reader, Modern AU, Vampire AU, Contract Marriage, Fluff, Angst, Grief, TW: Talks about death, themes about death, sfw, slight! reincarnation themes, broke student life.

Authors Note: The aftermath of looking over the garden wall to see the flowers. I hope this piece brings to rest the questions that may or may not remain unanswered. Enjoy!

The garden was empty tonight, the sun had long been chased away by the dark entourage of the night and her stars.

The gates should’ve been sealed, locked by chains and heavy locks to separate the hearts that still beat and those that have decayed. 

However, as a creature that’s born forever outside the delicate balance, how can these gates stop him?

Or simply the watcher who wanders about these grounds looks the other way, to give this pitifully foolish vampire a semblance of privacy. 

Even the moon covered herself with clouds, trying not to peek as Alhaitham knelt down next to a polished rock.

There were double as many flowers in his arms tonight, the fragrance carried by the late breeze was twice as overbearing. 

It doesn’t bother him, after all, his senses have been steeled against this. 

A variable walked through the sliding doors at the office tonight, disrupting Alhaitham’s treasured routine with a bitterly sweet bouquet. 

–

“Secretary Alhaitham.” A voice called as a hand knocked against the wooden frame of his office. 

Said vampire responds with a grunt of acknowledgment, pen only pausing when a familiar fragrance fills the air. 

“You have a visitor.” Faruzan steps to the side, nose scrunched up at the unaccustomed scent. 

Familiar scarlet locks shuffled into view of teal eyes, hands fiddling with the ends of a silk ribbon that contained the bundle together.

It’s hard to not put a name to that shade of hair, Nilou, it’s been a while. 

When was the last time he saw the faces of your dearest friends? Perhaps a few months back, while a coffin was lowered into the cold ground alone. 

That day was mockingly clear, the sky showing off her most vibrant hues of orange, violet, and pink, brilliant colors competing with those of the blooms thrown into the lonely pit.

No words were exchanged between him and the guests. The same faces of those who once danced and smiled with you within the decorated walls of a wedding venue are now deep in mourning. 

So much so that they collectively overlooked the immortal creature who stood amongst them, or perhaps they were too self-absorbed in their own sorrows to extend any grace to him.

After all, in their eyes, how could a creature like him ever understand the grief experienced by those with finite time? 

It was for the best, Alhaitham is never in the mood to engage in meaningless small talk, there’s no need for them to give him their hollow condolences.

Instead, he shall stand guard just off to the side, eyes observing every toss of cold dirt until the lacquered box was no longer visible. 

Sealing the gates to an unexplored sanctuary that held answers untold.

Alhaitham places his pen down, turning his full attention to the young lady who brought a physical memory into his office. 

“Hello, Mr. Alhaitham… um, I’m sorry if I’m bothering you.”  

Giving a curt nod to Faruzan, he dismisses her from his office, giving him and the guest some privacy.

The polite silence encouraged her to finish stating her purpose this late evening, the ashen-haired vampire awaits patiently with his hands folded atop the desk. 

“I… I know there isn’t a reason for you to keep in contact with us, but… I felt it’s only right to show gratitude towards you for everything you’ve done.” 

The scarlet-haired lady closes her eyes, chest expanding with a deep inhale, mind stringing together her unrehearsed lines. 

“Originally, I wanted to bring Dehya and Candace along, but… their jobs kept them busy.” 

It’d be quite the sight, two hunters thanking the very creatures they’ve spent their whole careers ripping the hearts out of. Even if it might seem like a thinly veiled excuse, Alhaitham knew Nilou’s words were sincere. 

The firm hand on the shoulder Dehya gave him at the end of committal service, once the mourns finished shedding their tears over freshly dug dirt, was enough for him to understand. 

As expected of a hunter, the strength in her grip on his shoulder stung, but she didn’t let go and he didn’t make any moves to brush her off.

A moment of silence for two grieving beings to communicate their shared pain, both caused a by void that can never be filled. 

After a few breaths, the flame-mane hunter releases her hold, wordlessly parting from him. As his teal gaze moves back up they connect with heterochromatic eyes.

Candace simply steadies her stare, then closes her lids as she nods in silent understanding. He mirrors her actions, and she then joins her mortal companions. 

The only gestures he accepted that horrid day, olive branches handed over by two sides.

“She used to always close her eyes when she smiled, but after she married you, she smiled with her eyes open.” 

A clever habit you had, concealing the apathetic vacuums of your irises when your lips curled, otherwise it’d distract from the radiant grin.

A brilliant technique utilized by an actress as skilled as you. 

“Thank you, thank you so much for making her happy, she really was happy.” 

The air remains silent, but his hands were gripping each other just a tab bit tighter. 

Alhaitham’s pride would never allow him to confess the truth, it’s embarrassing to admit that a creature who’s lived through multiple lifetimes couldn’t decrypt the actions of a mere mortal. 

Your performance was just that captivating, blurring the distinction between a daydream and reality. Bravo. 

Nilou carefully places the bouquet upon a vacant spot on his desk, they gave each other a nob in acknowledgment before parting ways yet again.

Perhaps the final applause after the credits have rolled. 

–

Brushing away the wilted bouquet before setting down the bright blooms still fresh with the vigor of life. Gathering the debris to ensure the soft glow of the night could reflect off the glossy surface, you always liked watching the stars.

In the empty silence of the garden offered Alhaitham the serenity of a deep reflection.

Away from the rowdy city streets and obnoxious office phones. He reviews the past seven years, emending his past assessment of your character.

You weren’t a capricious breeze nor were you a delicate flower. You were a human, a strange human, but a human nonetheless. The purest embodiment of mortality. 

That’s how Alhaitham will remember you, that’s how you wanted to be remembered. It’s his final duty as your husband,  he’ll carry it out with the same dedication. 

Technically speaking, not all clauses were truly fulfilled. 

The ashen-haired creature stands by the grave for a few beats more, before his feet finally broke free from their trance.

Redirecting his body towards the gates, his back facing your headstone. But it’s fine, he has to wipe down the polished stone tomorrow night. 

For now, let the stars keep your company. 

Readjusting to the tediousness of a solitary life was unexpectedly troublesome. Alhaitham never realized just how quickly dust loves to accumulate upon untouched surfaces.

How can objects still get dirty even when there’s no interference with their existence? A question not even the universe can answer. 

For his idle eyes to be bothered by the subtle hints of dust and misaligned book spines, you truly did an outstanding job in your household duties, honoring the agreements printed on the contract.  

The dryer sings its tone, Alhaitham places the dust cloth down to attend to the laundry before wrinkles can settle in. It's strange really, how certain scents can never be replicated by teams of scientists.

No detergent could ever truly hold the fragrance of a morning star.

However, it would be far too tiresome for a creature of the night to voluntarily embrace the stinging light just for a familiar whiff of solace.

He’ll just have to get used to the artificial aroma of fresh linen, after all these years, Alhaitham has gotten comfortable with the notion of change, an experienced expert in adapting to the times.

Nothing is immune to change, nothing can remain the same when the hands of a clock tick forward.

Thus, the clothes you once owned no longer hold the scent you once dawned. Yet, if he were to remove them… the closet would be too empty, best to leave them there.

With the laundry now checked off the list, Alhaitham returns back to the living room where he left one responsibility unfinished. Picking up the cloth square once more, he wipes the layer of dust from the neglected remote. 

Some of the print among the rubber buttons were faded, signs of wear from indecisive fingers as they debate which show they should settle on for the night.

Something passionate? Comedy? Dramatic? Which genre did you prefer the most?

His firm motions with the cloth absentmindedly pass over a certain button, allowing the large screen a long-awaited chance to flicker back on. Accompanying the bright flash of colors came the crisp audio of a rehearsed conversion between the two characters on screen.

Alhaitham stills as his head turns toward the TV. 

It must be a newly released drama, one with fresh faces and a carefully selected cast. It’s such a shame that all their efforts are wasted in vain, for there’s no audience upon a worn coach to appreciate their work. 

With that thought, Alhaitham sets the remote down as his ageless body settles into the sofa just adjacent to the centered coach.

The night is still young, dust will accumulate nevertheless, it wouldn’t make a difference in taking another break. 

-

There’s a line of distinction between a mind that’s been cultivated by the pages of a book and a mind that’s been entertained by artistically framed scenes.

When one crosses the other, the gap in understanding reveals itself, manifesting in the confusion of how to appreciate such things. 

It’s how you felt when trying to interpret the texts written long before you were born, face scrunched up in focus as your eyes move across the aged paper. 

It’s how he feels as he observes the two lead actors as disembodied laughter rang out. 

The pacing was slow, dialogue uninteresting to an immortal that’s long-lived past the experience of university. But, it’d be a waste to not finish something he intended to do from the start. 

The cushions were soft, supporting his settling frame as the tension leaves his muscles, beckoning his eyelids to lower, luring him into the darkness that lay behind them. 

“Haitham~ are you alive?” A voice brushes against his face. 

The presence of someone intruding upon his personal space made his body alert again, the wisps of sleep vanish.

Slowly he lifts up his leaden lids, blinking the haze of sleep away, vision gradually clearing to reveal your grinning face. 

“Are you finally done with the assignments you’ve procrastinated?” 

“I didn’t procrastinate, I knew I could finish them in time for the deadline and I did.” His voice still gruff with sleep. 

“Your breath stinks of coffee.”

“What an observation, coffee is a common beverage consumed by all walks of life.”

“Haitham, it’s 10 pm.” 

“It isn’t exclusive to one time.” 

An exaggerated huff leaves your lips as you folded, plotting your body right on top of his, the aged couch creaking in protest.

Instinctively, his arms opened to catch your frame, embracing you gently against his chest. Feeling the rhythm of your heart beating in time with his. 

“Stubborn.” You muttered. 

“Summarizing yourself?” Alhaitham bites back a chuckle as a balled-up fist gently knocks against his torso. 

It’s been a while since you’ve had a tender moment like this. Deadlines and exams brought on by the warming air of a concluding semester keep you both on a tight schedule. Only able to exchange brief greets during quick breaks of packaged meals. 

You sink deeper into his arms as he rests his face against your neck. Enjoying the warmth generated between your two bodies, coaxing the exhaustion away from each other’s limbs. 

‘I miss you.’ A silent sentiment wordlessly conveyed by the extended entanglement. 

“You didn’t eat dinner yet.”

Alhaitham lets a soft chuckle escape in the form of a quick huff, how perceptive you are when it comes to his well-being.  

“Skipping meals isn’t healthy,” You scolded as a finger jabbed against his shoulder. 

“I’m aware.” 

“Good, the noodles should be ready by now, c’mon.” 

Reluctantly, Alhaitham allows you out of his arms, letting his heavy body follow your tugging hands toward the old and stained kitchen table.

Teal eyes notice the freshly placed cups of noodles, steam leaking out from the sides of their paper lids held down by two forks. 

“It’s the fourth night we’ve had cup noodles this week.” He states the obvious. 

“So?” You quirk a brow at his announcement. 

“We’ll get sodium poisoning.”

“It’s fine, Haitham, our bodies are young, we'll live.” 

“And these choices will come back to bite us in the future.”

“Shush and eat your food.” You plotted down at your spot at the chipped table, cheek puffed out. 

An absolutely endearing sight. So much so that Alhaitham will rein in his sardonic quips for now, joining you in his spot just across the stained surface.

Ripping the flimsy top off the styrofoam cup, the artificial chicken flavoring sedates his ravenous appetite as he takes a bite.

A sacred respite for any student on a tight budget, empty calories that suppress the growling of stomachs. 

From across the table, his teal gaze watches as you savor your last bite. 

“You can have the rest of mine.”

“No, you’re a growing boy, you need to eat.” 

“The male body fully develops by age eighteen-”

“Shush and eat your food.”  

Your soft lips formed a frown once again, how could he not cave into your demands? Alhaitham takes another bite of the noodles. 

In just a few more semesters he’ll get his hands on a flimsy piece of paper, proving his qualifications to some white-collar job.

He'll earn a paycheck big enough to treat you to a nice steak basted with red wine.

Away from this cluttered box with creaky floors and rumbling pipes.

Then after a few years, the two of you could follow a realtor through a spacious house atop a hill, yard fenced in nicely, and located a reasonable distance away from the bustling city. 

Just endure the endless assignments and demanding exams for a little while longer. 

Styrofoam cups carelessly thrown into the trash, forks washed and set out in the drying wrack. The minimal effort of house cleaning was achieved.

As a reward, two figures found themselves pulled back to the worn cushions of a couch. Melting into each other's touches, fingertips trying to memorize every curve and edge. 

From outside a window left ajar, its hinges rusted with age and neglect, came the first symphony of the crickets. Singing to celebrate the new season which breathes back life into the trees and their leaves. 

Your hands tenderly cupped his face pulling him closer, cheeks touching as your noses perfectly rested against each other.

The leaden weight pulling on his eyelids returned, head dozing into your gentle warmth.

“I love you.” Your whisper so soft it was almost lost in the wind.

Fighting against the droopy pull, his sight centered on your content expression, tranquil gaze reflecting the teal of his irises as you await his response. 

Alhaitham’s firm arms pulled your frame flushed against his, burying his face back into the crook of your neck. Deep breath intaking the light fragrance which held hints of a sunny day. 

“I love you… to the extent it’s unfathomable.” His full truth. 

A truth that couldn’t be left untold. 

“Pfft! You and your fancy words again,” you giggled.

The tickling sensation of your bell-like giggles vibrating against his frame cause the corners of his lips to curl.

Your fingers found their way to his ashen hair, tracing faint patterns along his scalp as you tussled his messy locks. 

Mesmerizing motions making him lose the battle with the sweet call of sleep. The stone-faced man allowing your trailing fingers to beckon him deeper into the temperate waves of dreams. 

Alhaitham’s eyes opened again, lids dawdlingly fluttering open and shut again as the rolling credits of tonight’s spontaneous episode played against the glass screen.

His arms rested unfurled by his sides, nothing in the space against his cold hands. 

Closing his eyes shut once more, efforts now conflicted between prying open the doors of sleep to plunge back into the cloudy waters of dreams or blinking the lingering traces away.

Lungs not daring to take another breath in case they distract from the task at hand.

1… 2… 3

A low sigh leaves his lips, ashen lashes opening up to observe the teal eyes staring back from the dark credit screen.

It seems the keeper of dreams felt this vile creature has overstayed his welcome for tonight.

Locking up the iron gates as they stood mockingly on the other side dangling the key between their fingers. 

It doesn’t matter. The dream has already served its purpose. Allowing Alhaitham to say the lines in a script that he wasn’t able to complete in time. 

It made the void ache just a bit less.

It seems that Alhaitham has unraveled the truth behind your daydreaming habits. 

The itch in his palm has long faded away, the ailment cured by clarity only attainable after one processes the cold truth. Analytical mind returning to rationality untainted by the desperation of false hope. 

To be condemned to forever wheeze at each gasp of air, to be bound to a bed by agony searing your every cell. Who is willing to pay the price of eternity?

Stopping the hands of a clock wouldn’t be much different than a punishment delivered from the deepest depths of hell.

How could mortal medicine ever turn back the hands of a clock? Simple, it can’t.

Nothing can. 

To forever freeze a sinking ship between the thundering skies of life and the endless pits of death, doomed to never drown but never be resuced for eternity.

A fate worse than anything on the two polar opposite sides. 

It’d be plain cruel. Childishly cruel. 

Alhaitham wouldn’t do that to you, he couldn’t do that to you. 

Instead, he simply held your hand tight. Taking away any fear, any anxieties, any regrets as your body sank deeper beneath the waves, until the furrow between your brows disappeared.

Watching the peace gracing your features as your head descends into the murky depths. 

Letting your fingers slip through the gaps in his as he stays atop his floating raft of immortality. 

Letting your gold bands catch on each other one last time. Letting the laws of nature and unnamed gods pull you away from his side, forever concealing you behind a wall he’ll never be able to peer over. 

As it was fated to be, he knows. 

If you had a healthy body, one that could live up to 80 years… maybe a little more, you wouldn’t have chosen him.

You never would’ve signed a contract.

You never would’ve cast a passing glance at him on the street. 

You would’ve embraced another, one who could walk hand and hand with you through the garden gates.

You didn’t ask to be born with that body, and he didn’t ask to be born with his. 

Paths predestined at birth to never fully merge, a wall forever dividing them. 

Yet, during the brief time they touched, the scenery was breathtaking.

If he had finite time, a body exhausted by late nights of piled-up assignments, with nothing but twenty mora to his name. 

He’d choose that over sitting in an empty house with luxurious furniture, excessive assets sitting to rot in bank vaults, and a silk-covered bed too big for a singular body. 

He’d choose to be the one who could walk through the gates of the Pardis Dhyai, hand and hand with you. 

--

Only in a mirage could that exist. 

Sitting across a small kitchen table, him with his instant coffee, you with your dining hall stolen tea.

Notepad given out by some random campus event being scribbled on. Ballpoint pen jotting down the items carefully calculated: Milk, eggs, and more cup noodles. 

Only in a dream could he sit in the bright rays of a star, enjoying its warmth side by side with you. 

Alhaitham shuts off the TV, the greeting songs of birds from outside closed curtains now creeping through.

Slowly his frame emerges from its sedentary position, the dust cloth long forgotten to the side. 

A sofa is no proper place to rest. Maybe clean sheets can replicate the purpose of cold dirt.

Such futile thoughts, unbefitting of such a noble creature. 

But, he's been craving sleep lately, longing for the warmth of a fantastical sun. 

Fin~

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS. 

#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham fanfic #alhaitham x y/n #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #al-haitham x you #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham headcanons #genshin impact x you #vivalabunbunfics #alhaitham x you #alhaitham angst #alhaitham #alhaitham x yn #genshin angst #genshin vampire au #genshin modern au #genshin alhaitham

[eclecticpatrolroadlawyer]

Illicit affairs (chapter 2)

Chapter 1

Summary: Bucky and Y/n are in arranged marriage. Bucky is having an affair. This is all it is about... Let's see where Y/n's fate lies... Should we?

Pairings: Bucky x reader, Bucky x Dot ...

Genre: angst, affair, unrequited love

next day

Y/n's POV

The tea kettle's loud whistle pulled me back from my thoughts, and I remembered a moment—a moment that stung with disappointment.

As I took down the tea, the warmth of the steam evoked the chilling recollection of our wedding night. In the intimate dance of shared vows and whispered promises, Bucky's words had pierced the veil of anticipation. "Don't ever expect anything from this marriage," he had declared, the weight of his words settling like a heavy shroud.

The routine of making tea felt a bit sad, each step taking me back to that night. The sounds of cups and boiling water seemed to replay that moment when our hopes started to crumble.

As I lifted the cup, it held not just tea but also memories. The warmth of the liquid was mixed with the bitterness of that night, a night where promises felt broken. The smell of the tea carried the ghosts of our wedding, a reminder of a vow that seemed to fade, and the quiet acceptance of a marriage that had lost its sparkle.

I sigh when I see he's gone, probably meeting her under the excuse of jogging. Disappointment settles in my chest, and it feels like trust is slipping away. The air is thick with things we're not saying, and I take a deep breath to steady myself.

I decide to hit the supermarket while he is away, so I head to our shared bedroom to get ready.

half an hour later

at supermarket

In the bustling mart, my eyes catch a plushie perched high on the shelf. A whimsical desire takes hold, but I bite my lip, hesitating—I'm a grown woman, after all. Glancing around, I make sure no one's watching, and then, in a spontaneous moment, I decide to go for it.

Standing on my toes, I reach, my fingers brushing the soft plushie. Just as I stretch, someone's chest presses against my back. Startled, I turn to find a tall figure in a leather jacket, their presence both surprising and comforting.

Those green eyes meet mine, the contrast between the familiar and the unknown. Bucky's eyes held the depth of the sea, turbulent and mysterious, while this stranger's gaze resembled something serene about them, like a forest bathed in sunlight. It's a peaceful encounter, and for a moment, I forget the complexities that linger in the shadows. Unlike the stormy intensity of Bucky's ocean-blue gaze, these eyes carried a calm, a sense of peaceful allure that drew me in. With dark blonde hair and a hint of freckles, this stranger feels like a breath of fresh air, a divergence from the familiar.

Startled by the sudden closeness, I gasp and take an involuntary step back. My retreat, however, is met with a minor mishap—I lightly crash into the shelves. In that split second, just as I brace for impact, I feel the stranger's hand at the back of my head. It's a gentle touch, preventing my head from making contact with the shelves, even though the impact would have been light. The unexpected act of kindness leaves me momentarily flustered, caught between embarrassment and gratitude.

"I-I-..I'm sorry," I stutter, feeling the heat creeping up to my cheeks. Suddenly, words escape me, and I find myself at a loss, caught between embarrassment and an unspoken gratitude for the stranger's unexpected kindness.

"Are you okay?" I manage to ask, my heart beating a little faster. There's an unfamiliar feeling swirling within me, and for the first time in my life, it feels right.

The man chuckles, a light shake of his head accompanied by a crinkle near his eyes. He smirks, revealing a set of little white teeth, and speaks softly, "No worries, my lady… Actually, I should be the one asking you, are you okay, miss?" His green eyes lock onto mine, and a warmth spreads through me. I gulp down the breath that got punched out of me and find myself nodding, still unable to find words for the whirlwind of emotions. My brain insists it's wrong, but my heart seems to have its own answer ready.

In that fleeting moment, it feels like time stops. I find myself smiling, trying to take in every detail of his form—the way he styles himself, his unique way of speaking. It's as if everything about him becomes the focus in that small span of time—a love at first sight that catches me off guard.

8 months earlier

Dot's POV

"I can do it," I tell myself, taking a deep breath before entering the interview. My head held high, I step into the room, the confident click-clack of my heels echoing against the marble floor.

2 hours later

Walking through the park, I find a bench, sighing sadly as I take a seat. Muttering to myself, "Ugh, not again," I slump down, frustration evident in my sighs. "Why do I always get nervous?!" I groan, burying my head in my hands. "At this rate, I'll stay poor for the rest of my life," I whine, feeling overwhelmed.

Suddenly, a handkerchief touches me, and I look up to see a handsome man extending it towards me. His ocean-blue eyes draw me in, and for a moment, I'm lost, drowning in their depths. It takes me a few minutes to realize I've been staring, and I snap out of my thoughts, shaking my head. I smile at the man, stuttering, "Oh, I...th-thank you, sir. I'm sorry. You really didn't have to stop to help me, but thank you," I say, grateful and slightly flustered.

"Oh, my mother taught me better than to ever leave a crying woman or to ever make a woman cry," the man replies, smirking charmingly with a wink and adds "Especially when it's a beautiful woman like you, miss." As those words leave his lips, it's as if the man's looks, which were already a source of fluttering butterflies, now weave a spell on my heart. I feel a blush creeping up as I glance down, nodding shyly in acknowledgment. "Thank you," I murmur softly, accepting the handkerchief with a light touch, my heart still dancing to the charming melody of his words.

"So, if you don't mind me asking, not trying to be nosy, but may I know why you are crying, beautiful?" The man asks, taking a seat beside me while maintaining a respectable distance. His blue eyes, as usual, lock onto my brown ones, managing to steal my breath away. I maintain my composure, nodding as I reply, "Just knowing I messed up my job interview." Sighing, I look down, my fingers clenching the soft fabrics of the given handkerchief, my lower lip caught between my teeth as I reflect on the interview.

The sound of a clap pulls me out of my thoughts, and I find the man smiling at me. "Oo! I think I know how to bring up your mood…Wanna have a cup of coffee with me? I know the best place." I look at him, unsure, considering he's still a stranger. Before I can voice my thoughts, he continues, "Oh! Sorry…I forgot to introduce myself. I'm James… James Buchanan Barnes. In short, Bucky or Buck." He extends his hand as he introduces himself.

I smile involuntarily as I take his hand and shake it. "Pleasure to meet you, James. I'm Dottore… Just call me Dot," I introduce myself with a hint of warmth in my smile.

Third person's POV

Who would've thought that this random meeting could turn into something so special? It became a beautiful story, defying expectations and creating a connection that wasn't supposed to happen. From a simple park encounter, something magical unfolded—a tale of love that wasn't allowed, something forbidden, filled with both joy and heartbreak. In simple words, it turned into an 'Illicit Affair,' a story written by fate and emotions, painting a picture of love in unexpected places.

Bitter always follows the sweet,

especially when it comes to love.

Especially when it comes to forbidden love.

-Karina Halle

(WANNA GUESS THE GUY WHO Y/N MET AT THE SUPERMARKET?😆I GAVE ENOUGH HINTS...EVEN THOUGH THEY ARE HIS FACE FEATURES 🤭 BUT HE IS FROM SOMETHING SUPERNATURAL GENRE TV SERIES AND OLD ONE)

Note: Hey guys! Hope you like it. English is actually my second language so if there's any mistake you can inform me by messaging me privately. And PLEASE REBLOG AND DON'T STEAL MY WORK. Please like and comment too so, that I can know your views. Thank you for reading guys! Have a nice day and please comment if you wanna be tagged in.

Taglist: @angstysebfan @cjand10@learisa@themorningsunshine @binkszamsstuff

@dreamerglassesgirl @winterslove1917 @perfectpieslimeprune @nikkivillar @bethexo07 @vicmc624 @pattiemac1 @ozwriterchick

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #y/n insert #bucky barnes angst #bucky angst #bucky barnes blurb #bucky x y/n #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes incorrect quotes #bucky barnes cheating #bucky barns imagine #bucky imagine #cheating angst #angsty #angst #james buchanan barnes #affair #james barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #winter soldier!bucky barnes #mysterious stranger #mystery

[thatfanficstuff]

Color My World - Haldir (LOTR)

Pairing: Haldir x soulmate!reader

warnings: nothing beyond canon

The forest of Lothlorien loomed before a weary band of travelers, known to some as the Fellowship. Their steps were heavy with exhaustion, a mantle of grief weighing them down. Their companion, the wizard Gandalf, had fallen mere hours before. But they didn’t have time to stop, to allow their hearts a moment to heal. The orcs would come and the group needed to be safely within the depths of the forest before they did.

You walked beside Frodo in the middle of the group, your eyes darting between taking in the beauty around you and keeping an eye on your companions. Sunlight filtered through the leafy canopy above you, bathing the world in golden rays. Even the bark of the trees glittered faintly with hints of gold. You could only imagine how stunning it would be if you had already met your soulmate. All the muted, faded colors you saw would be bright and vivid. You never wished for it more than at moments like this.

“Can you feel the trees watching us?” Frodo’s voice, barely above a murmur, broke the fragile silence.

You placed a hand on his shoulder in comfort. “There have been eyes on us since we stepped foot in the forest, little hobbit.”

He looked up in surprise and you squeezed gently as you gave him a soft smile. “No worries. All be fine.”

“Thank you for being here,” he said, his tone hovering between gratitude and fear.

“We all have our purposes in this life, Frodo Baggins. Mine is make sure you complete yours.”

As you continued, you ignored Gimli’s talk of elven sorceresses and enchantments. You were too focused on the force gathering along the edges of your senses. The elves had sent a welcoming party. Of a sort.

Suddenly and almost silently, the Fellowship was surrounded. Elves with arrows drawn in you and your companions faces. With an arched brow you stepped in front of Frodo and pushed the arrow aside that was nearly brushing your nose. Ridiculous. Arrows did much more damage if they had a little room to move.

“The dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark,” a rich voice said as the most beautiful man you’d ever seen addressed Aragorn. The elf observed your group, taking each of you in. When his gaze met your own, he lingered ever so slightly before turning back to the king. “Why do you enter the woods of the Lady of Light?”

The quiet words stoked something deep inside you, a yearning that had followed you your whole life. A cascade of vibrant color burst forth with the marchwarden at its center. Greens deepened into a multitude of shades. The golden undertones of the trees shimmered with new life.

As he and Aragorn spoke, every syllable from his lips only brought more beauty to your world. And every word bound your soul more tightly to his. You wove your fingers together, a poor effort at self-restraint as you couldn’t seem to tear your gaze from his profile. You’d heard so many stories of this elf and now, seeing him in person, he was everything you could ever desire in a mate. And he was far too important for someone like you. Finally, you tore your eyes away as he turned to lead the Fellowship deeper into the trees.

You weren’t certain how far you walked or how many stairs you climbed before you were greeted by the ethereal presence of Celeborn and Galadriel. You half listened to the conversation about the fate of your wizard as your attention kept flicking over to Haldir who stood to the side looking straight ahead. It felt odd that you were so connected to him and he didn’t even know you existed. That he knew nothing of your bond. It was for the best, you knew that, but it didn’t make your heart hurt any less.

Feeling eyes on you, you turned your head to find Galadriel looking at you though she spoke to the Fellowship as a whole. You bit back a gasp as you heard her lyrical voice in your head. “Within these woods, bonds deeper than the roots of the mallorn trees are forged. You have felt the stirring of such a bond, child of the outside world. Your connection with Haldir is stronger than you know. An intertwining of souls, a sharing of strengths. Together, you harbor magic that will aid you on your quest.”

“Magic?” you thought back.

Rather than answering, the corner of her lips curled into a knowing smile and she gave you a small nod. “When you need it the most, it will be there,” she said aloud. Your companions frowned in confusion but you ignored their questions as Haldir showed all of you to where you would be spending the evening.  

You managed to leave the elves without Haldir finding out who you were to him. Your friends found it odd that you refused to speak louder than a whisper until you were well on your way down the river but you simply waved off their questions. It was better this way. No matter how utterly alone you suddenly felt.

Days turned into weeks. Frodo and Sam had gone off on their own. Boromir had fallen. Gandalf had returned. And now you stood with Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli at Helm’s Deep alongside an army made up mostly of old men and boys. Hope was fleeting that most of you would make it through the night. Gandalf had told you to look for him at the dawn but that was many hours away.

You stood on the wall watching a storm roll in while the others prepared themselves for battle. You’d taken care of that hours ago. A horn blasting drew your attention. Elven archers marched toward the keep. You grinned, feeling hope for the first time in days. The smile fell as you saw who was leading them. Haldir. He wasn’t supposed to be here. It was too dangerous. He was supposed to be safe in Lothlorien.

You watched Aragorn greet him, Legolas by his side. Haldir glanced up when they finished, his gaze finding yours. He studied your face for a moment before nodding a greeting. You nodded in return then slipped away into the crowd, making sure the rabble were as prepared as possible for the coming attack.

While Aragorn moved through the ranks of elves on the wall, you stood with Legolas and Gimli. The hordes of orcs and Uruk-hai approached, banging weapons on the ground as they came. You rested a hand on the dwarf’s shoulder trying to calm him as he bounced around. “Steady on,” you told him as you prepared your bow.

And then they came in a flood of anger and teeth. Chaos reigned around you as you slashed and dodged. Rain fell in heavy drops as lightning flashed in the sky and thunder roared. You focused solely on the opponents around you until King Theoden called for a retreat to the inner walls. Aragorn grabbed your arm and pulled you along as he yelled for the men to fall back. When he turned and yelled Haldir’s name, you turned with him.

Haldir acknowledged the order a breath before he was surrounded by iron and hate. A blade stabbed toward him even as he cut the wielder down.

Heat surged through your veins as fear swamped you. You unleashed your fury with a cry torn from the very depths of your soul. The world seemed to slow as a shimmering shield surrounded your soulmate, deflecting the blade that would have run him through. His eyes found yours, wide with astonishment.

You ignored Aragorn calling your name as newfound strength flowed through you. You weaved through the melee, each step bringing you closer to Haldir’s side. Finally, you reached him and helped dispatch the orcs that swarmed him. When there was an opening for you to move, you grabbed the breastplate of his armor and pulled him toward the stairs. “Move, Marchwarden.”

The battle was over after a last minute save from the Rohirrim and the Ents. As soon as you had a moment to breathe a breath you weren’t convinced would be your last, Haldir grabbed your hand and pulled you to the side where you could have some semblance of privacy.

His hands cradled your face as his thumbs traced your cheeks. He looked you over with wonder.

“Why did you say nothing when first we met?” he asked. “Why keep your connection to me hidden?”

You grasped his wrists in your hands. “If the bond was complete, formed on both sides, what would happen to you if I died on this quest?”

The silence stretched as he studied you. “A partial truth at best, hiril vuin.” (my lady)

You sighed and looked away from him, unable to meet his eye as you confessed. “I did not wish to be a burden upon you. I feared the revelation would be a disappointment.”

He ran his thumbs along your skin again to bring your attention back to him. “You are the furthest cry from a disappointment. Your courage, your strength, your heart…they are gifts more precious than the rarest jewels of my people.”

You searched for any signs of deception from him. Finding none, a smile crossed your face. He mirrored it before leaning forward to press his lips to yours. It took only a moment before you returned the gesture with equal fervor.

For a moment, you could forget about your quest.  Forget about the death that surrounded you. Because here in the midst of so many endings, was your beginning and you intended to hold onto it with all of your heart.

#haldir x reader #haldir fanfiction #lotr fanfiction #lord of the rings fanfiction #haldir x soulmate #lotr soulmate au #soulmate au

[jackles010378]

Surprise?

(Dean Winchester X you)

When Dean overhears a conversation between you and Sam, he gets the wrong idea and storms out of the bunker. Meanwhile you and the guys are setting up a surprise party for Dean, but will he come home?

Y/n and Sam were determined to organize the most epic surprise party Dean's birthday. They knew how much he deserved it after the countless hunts and sacrifices he had made over the years. So, they hatched a plan to give him a night he would never forget.

Late one evening, as they were preparing everything in the bunker's library, Dean happened to overhear Sam and Y/n deep in conversation. "He's not gonna like this" Sam said to y/n "I know but we gotta take a chance Sam, how often do we get to do this" y/n said back to him. Dean's heart skipped a beat as he tried to make sense of their words. However, due to the distance and muffled voices, he misinterpreted their intentions completely.

In his mind, Dean began to believe that Y/n was cheating on him with Sam. An overwhelming sense of betrayal washed over him as anger coursed through his veins. Unable to think straight, he stormed out of the bunker, searching for solace and answers at the bottom of a glass.

Meanwhile, back at the bunker, Y/n, Sam, Bobby, Jody and Cas were putting the finishing touches on the surprise party. The lights were dimmed, decorations adorned every corner, and the smell of mouth-watering food filled the air. They couldn't wait to see the look on Dean's face when he walked in.

Hours passed, and the anticipation grew. Y/n's worry for Dean consumed her, making it difficult to enjoy the festivities. Dean left the bunker earlier on telling them both he was going to get some supplies as they were running low. But thinking back on how he left, he didn't look at her, or Sam for that matter. Worry crept into her mind thinking the worst. Had Dean overheard and got the wrong idea? She kept replaying the conversation she had with Sam in her mind, realizing the grave misunderstanding that had taken place. She regretted that Dean had misinterpreted her innocent intentions.

Just as the celebration was about to come to a close, the bunker door creaked open. Darkness engulfed the room as Dean stumbled in, his eyes bloodshot and his movements unsteady. Confusion and sadness painted his face. He had reached the depths of heartbreak, and it showed.

Suddenly, the room erupted in a deafening chorus of "SURPRISE!" Y/n, Sam, and the others had planned this moment meticulously, but the sight of Dean in such a vulnerable state overshadowed their excitement.

A mixture of relief and guilt washed over Y/n as she realized the true cause of Dean's pain. She rushed to his side, tears streaming down her face. "Dean, it's not what you think," she pleaded, trying to explain herself amidst the chaos of the party.

Dean's eyes met Y/n's, and in that instant, his heart softened. He realized the love and concern behind her tear-streaked face. "I thought...I thought you were cheating on me," he choked out, his voice heavy with regret.

Y/n nodded, her voice filled with emotion. "I would never, ever do that to you, Dean. Sam and I were planning this surprise party for you. It was supposed to be a celebration of everything you've done for us."

Dean's eyes traveled around the room, taking in the decorations, the smiling faces of their loved ones, and the warmth that enveloped them. He felt a mix of emotions but strongest among them was gratitude.

"I'm sorry, Y/n," he whispered, pulling her into a tight embrace. "I should have trusted you. I should have known you'd never betray me like that."

As the party continued, Dean let go of the hurt and misunderstanding he had held onto. He realized that sometimes, misunderstanding and doubt can cloud even the strongest of relationships. Yet, with love and open communication, those obstacles can be overcome.

From that day forward, Dean and Y/n vowed to be more mindful of their words and actions. They learned the importance of trust and forgiveness, deepening their bond in the process. And every time they looked back on that surprise party, they were reminded of the power of love and the strength of their connection.

TAGLIST: @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @nescavaneck @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden

#jensen ackles #dean winchester #supernatural #jackles #jensen ross ackles #spn cast #soldier boy #deanwinchtser #jensen ackles gifs #beau arlen #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fan fic

[mayhem-things]

Pelle Ohlin x reader / pull of death

Another oneshot today cause why not.

Dead and his girlfriend climb on the rooftop and soon they talk about death and its meaning

(1218 words)

tw: mentioning of suicide

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

Pelle sat in his dimly lit room, surrounded by posters of his favorite black metal bands. His girlfriend, Y/N, watched him curiously as he stared out the window, his eyes reflecting the fading light of the setting sun.

"Pelle, what are you thinking?" she asked, concern etched across her face.

He turned to her with a mischievous smile, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Let's climb onto the roof," he said. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Are you serious? That's insane!"

"That's the fun about it,"

Dead replied, his voice filled with an odd mixture of enthusiasm and darkness. He pushed the window open and began to climb out, his pale figure disappearing onto the rooftop.

Y/N sighed, realizing she had no choice but to follow him. She carefully made her way out of the window, her heart pounding in her chest as the air of the night waved upon her skin. She knew this was a stupid idea, but she wanted to keep an eye on Dead to ensure he didn't do anything too dangerous like jumping. The fear of falling rushed through her veins yet she managed to safely get on top.

They stood side by side on the rooftop, feeling the cool night breeze on their skin. The world stretched out before them, the stars shining brightly in the velvety skye.

"You're absolutely insane, Pelle"

Y/N said, shaking her head.

"What possesses you to do things like this?"

Dead looked at her, his eyes softening for a moment as honesty spoke for him.

"Sometimes, Y/N, I feel like I don't belong in this world. The darkness inside me can be overwhelming, but it's also what fuels my creativity. It's what makes me who I am."

She listened intently, her eyes searching his face for answers. She knew there was a deep pain within him, hidden beneath his enigmatic persona.

"I can't change who I am, Y/N," Dead continued. 

"But when I'm with you, I feel a sense of peace. You ground me, you make me feel alive. And in this moment, with you here beside me, I don't feel alone."

Touched by his vulnerability, she reached out and took his hand in hers.

"You're not alone, Dead. I'll always be here for you, no matter how crazy your ideas are."

He smiled softly, his fingers intertwining with hers. Leaning in, Dead placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, the gesture filled with tenderness and gratitude.

As Dead and Y/N sat on the rooftop, their bodies huddled close together, the weight of the night pressed upon them. The conversation shifted to a topic that resonated deeply within Dead's tormented soul

death.

"Y/N" Dead began, his voice filled with a mixture of sorrow and curiosity,

"have you ever thought about death? About what lies beyond?"

Y/N gazed into Dead's eyes, searching for a glimmer of understanding. She knew this topic was a wellspring of complex emotions for him, and she wanted to tread carefully.

"Yes, Pelle" she replied softly, her voice laced with compassion.

"Death is a mysterious and profound concept. It's something we all face, yet it remains shrouded in uncertainty."

A heavy silence hung between them, as if the weight of mortality itself had settled upon their shoulders. Dead's grip on Y/N's hand tightened, seeking solace in her presence.

"I've always had an uneasy relationship with death," Dead confessed, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

"Sometimes, I feel its cold embrace beckoning me, whispering its seductive promises. Other times, I'm gripped by an overwhelming fear of the unknown, of what awaits on the other side."

She listened intently, her heart aching for the pain that Death carried within him. The way he let out those words sounded almost as if he planned on finding out, which resulted in her, feeling a wave of uncertainty how to reply. She squeezed his hand reassuringly, her touch serving as an anchor amidst the swirling abyss of his thoughts.

"You're not alone in your contemplations, Pelle" she murmured, her voice steady.

"Many people grapple with the same questions, the same fears. It's a journey we all embark upon, whether we're ready or not."

Dead's gaze turned to the starry sky above, as if seeking answers amidst the celestial tapestry. He was oddly quiet as that was the usual response he would get when asking that question

 "Do you think death is the end,Y/N? Or is there something more?"

She pondered his words for a moment, choosing her response carefully.

"I believe that death is a gateway to something beyond our comprehension. Whether it's an eternal oblivion or a continuation of existence in some form, we can't say for certain. But perhaps, in the face of uncertainty, it's the meaning we find in life that truly matters."

A gentle breeze rustled their hair, as if nature itself whispered its wisdom into their ears. Dead leaned his head against her's, their foreheads touching in a shared moment of contemplation.

"Perhaps you're right," Dead whispered, his voice laden with hidden thoughts of finding out what death actually means. 

"I love you Y/N" he assured her , calming her down to not embrace her to the real thoughts of his. Dead didn't want her to worry  about him.

She smiled, her heart swelling with love for the complex soul beside her. 

"I love you too Pelle."

As the conversation about death subsided, the both of them found themselves yearning for a moment of respite from the weighty topics that had consumed their thoughts. They decided to lie down on the rooftop, their bodies intertwined, seeking comfort and warmth in each other's embrace.

The night sky stretched out above them, a canvas of twinkling stars that seemed to mirror the countless thoughts swirling within Dead's troubled mind. He cradled her close, his arm wrapped protectively around her, cherishing the solace they found in each other's presence.

Y/N nestled her head against Dead's chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. She could sense the lingering weight of his contemplations, but she respected his need for privacy. With gentle strokes of her hand along his arm, she conveyed her silent support.

The wind whispered softly, carrying their worries away into the vastness of the night. Dead closed his eyes, his mind consumed by thoughts of mortality. He grappled with the darkness that often threatened to consume him, but he couldn't bear to burden her with the depth of his despair.

In that moment, Dead made a silent promise to himself. He vowed to cherish every fleeting breath, to find solace in the moments of light amidst the shadows for every second he spends with his beloved girlfriend. He would guard his thoughts, shield her from the darkest corners of his mind, for her love was a beacon of hope, a reminder of the beauty that still existed within the chaos called life.

Y/N, sensing the weight of Dead's unspoken struggles, pressed herself closer, as if trying to convey her unwavering presence and understanding. She traced delicate patterns on his chest, her touch radiating a soothing warmth that penetrated the layers of his sorrow.

A sense of tranquility settled over them, cocooning them in a bubble of shared affection. They lay there, side by side, hearts beating in sync, finding solace in the simplicity of touch and the profound bond they shared.

As the night deepened, the stars continued to twinkle above, lending a gentle luminescence to their private sanctuary.

For now, they allowed themselves to exist in this tender moment, a sanctuary amidst the uncertainty of life and the haunting specter of death. 

#mayhem #pelle ohlin #pelle #dead #black metal #depressing shit #depressiv #euronymous #lord of chaos #fan fic stuff #fan fiction #fanfic #oystein aarseth #lords of chaos

[poisonlove]

Miss Ortega | j.o

First love is always something wonderful, isn't it? The illusion that everything will be fine and that love between you two will grow stronger, staying within your bubble, ignoring the world.

At times, it can be a harsh wake-up call from reality, a slap in the face that makes you feel terrible about yourself, and most of all, the fear of trusting someone else.

In this case, Jenna is T/n's first love.

A forbidden love, full of problems between the law and judgment.

But the real question is: realistically, how can this affair between these two girls end?

part 13

I approach Olivia, my face marked by anxiety and worry. It was time to face the difficult situation that had arisen due to our relationship and the discovery that Jenna was the mysterious girl involved.

—Olivia, we need to talk. I know you feel betrayed, and I understand why. I never wanted things to get this complicated– I repeat, looking at her with a heavy heart.

Olivia crosses her arms, gazing at me with a mix of anger and sadness.

—I can't believe you kept from me all this time that the mysterious girl is our teacher. I feel betrayed, as if you've played with my feelings... damn it, I'm in love with you!–she confesses, lowering her head with guilt.

—It wasn't my intention to hurt you, Olivia. I kept the relationship a secret to protect Jenna, to avoid complications. But now everything's out in the open, and I realize the mistake I made– I admit.

If I had talked to someone about Jenna and me, maybe I could've had help in handling this immense burden.

Olivia runs a hand through her hair, trying to calm herself. She still felt love, but the disappointment and sense of betrayal were hard to ignore.

—How could you think this wouldn't be a problem? Didn't you consider the consequences, the fact that you could endanger not only yourself but also Jenna's future?– I lower my gaze, regretting my actions.

I take a deep breath and look at Olivia with tear-filled eyes, my voice trembling as I try to explain my feelings.

—Olivia, I beg you to try to understand. I tried to ignore my feelings for Jenna, but she... she's Jenna. She's my teacher, but she's also the person I deeply love. You can't expect me to ignore that completely– my heart tightens as my heartbeat noticeably increases.

Olivia feels a wave of jealousy wash over her, mixed with disappointment and anger. She wants me to feel her suffering and tries to threaten me to preserve her own dignity. After all, I had deceived her.

—If you think I can accept this situation without doing anything, you're mistaken. I can't let this relationship between you and our teacher continue. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to protect my future, even go to the principal and tell the whole truth– Olivia looks at me with hard eyes, a mocking smile playing on her lips.

I look at Olivia with my eyes wide open, frightened by her words. I feel my heart break, fearing losing Jenna and Olivia's friendship forever.

—Olivia, please don't do it. I care about you a lot, but I can't deny my feelings for Jenna. Let's try to find a way to get through this situation together– I nervously bite my lower lip.

Olivia is caught in an internal conflict, torn between the desire to preserve our friendship and the feeling of betrayal she's experiencing. She manages to hold back the tears, but her gaze remains stern.

I approach and take Olivia's hands.

—I don't know if I can ever fully forgive you, t/n. This situation has shaken our mutual trust. We need to find a way to face all of this, but it won't be easy–Olivia admits. I let out a sigh of relief, squeezing Olivia's hands with gratitude.

My eyes lock intensely with Olivia's, my heart full of hope but also fear for the future of our relationship. I needed confirmation, I needed to know if, despite everything, we would still have a connection as friends.

—Olivia, are we still friends? I don't want to lose you completely from my life. Despite everything, we've shared precious moments together– I ask hopefully.

Olivia feels a lump in her throat, understanding how important it is for both of them to maintain a part of their relationship intact. Reluctantly, she nods slowly.

—Yes, we're still friends. We've shared too much to lose each other completely– she smiles as she remembers their first attempt.

As we talk, I notice movement in our direction. I lift my gaze and see Professor Ortega approaching us with tears in her eyes. Her expression is a mix of pain and disappointment.

—Olivia... can I talk to you for a moment?– Jenna asks, her eyes filled with tears.

Jenna's POV:

I feel a lump in my throat, my lips tremble, and tears begin to trickle down my cheeks. A sense of fear overtakes me at the thought of losing my job and t/n, while Olivia's judgmental gaze materializes in my mind.

All my insecurities and fears overflow like a swollen river. I had dedicated so much time and effort to this job, made sacrifices, and carved my path with determination, but now everything seemed to teeter on a thin thread. I feel like the ground is opening beneath me, ready to swallow me into an abyss of uncertainty.

Olivia's words resonate in my head like a hammer hitting an anvil. It's evident that Olivia has discovered something, something that puts me in a vulnerable position. Just thinking about facing the consequences of that exposure makes my legs tremble. The reputation I had painstakingly built over the years seems to fade away, disappearing in an instant.

Fear and sadness intertwine in my heart, creating a tangle of emotions that seems impossible to unravel. I feel like a caged bird, with clipped wings, unable to fly away from the storm that's closing in on me. The job had become my identity, my reason for being, and the thought of losing it is unbearable.

T/n...

I feel the need to shut myself off, to find a safe haven where I can release my anguish. The walls seem to close in around me, suffocating me, and the weight of my worries feels unbearable. It's as if every cell in my body is screaming in pain and terror.

But deep in my heart, I know I can't let fear completely overcome me. I must find the strength to face the situation, to stand up for myself and prove my worth. I must turn fear into determination, tears into courage.

So, with trembling knees and a tight chest, I rise from the ground. I wipe away my tears and take a deep breath, trying to reclaim my inner strength. I won't let fear drag me into the abyss of helplessness. It's time to fight for what's rightfully mine, to protect my job and dignity, to protect t/n.

With determined steps, I seek out Olivia, ready to face whatever consequences and defend with all my might what I've built. I don't know what awaits me, but I'm determined to do whatever it takes to overcome this trial.

When I stop in front of Olivia and t/n, tears well up in my eyes again, anger pulsates in my heart. I need to make them feel the depth of my emotions, even though I know that anger can cloud my words.

—Jenna...—t/n weakly calls me, but I urgently want to speak with Olivia.

Suddenly, I feel the need to tell Olivia the truth, to let her know how I feel about t/n.

—Yes, I made a mistake. I wasn't professional. But Olivia, you don't understand! I love t/n! I love t/n more than anything, and this job means nothing if I lose it– I say, with a feeling of lightness moving in my chest.

The words hang in the air, filled with passion and desperation. It's the first time I've openly confessed my feelings for t/n in front of anyone, and the weight of my emotions is overwhelming.

T/n looks at me with tear-filled eyes, speechless for a moment. Then, with fierce determination, she approaches and takes my hand.

—Wow... Jen, I was about to tell you that I already convinced Liv...– t/n says, laughing, looking at me with bright eyes.

Olivia remains silent for a moment, shocked by the revelation. Then, her gaze softens, and a certain compassion appears on her face.

—But that doesn't change the fact that Jenna broke the rules— she admits with a sigh.

I lower my gaze, my shoulders trembling under the weight of remorse. —I'm sorry, Liv. I promise things will change—t/n admits, probably referring to their friendship.

—Now... I'm leaving—Olivia asserts, and without saying anything more, she walks towards the stairs.

T/n's t/c-colored eyes look at me sweetly, and my breath catches in my throat. —So... do you love me?– she asks, and I nervously bite my lower lip.

We've just resolved one drama, and now I have to discuss this.

***

Jenna and I ran into each other in the school hallway after solving the Olivia issue. With curious eyes, I watch Jenna, awaiting her response.

Jenna nods, her eyes gleaming with happiness. —Yes, I love you. It's something I've felt for a while, but I was afraid to confess—she says with a smile.

I embrace her tightly, excited about this discovery. However, after a moment of joy, I remember something important. After the horrible experience I had with Olivia, I need to tell Enid about it to have someone who can support me in front of others.

—Jenna, I want to tell Enid about us. I want her to know that we're together— I confess, and Jenna looks at me as if I grew a second head.

Jenna withdraws slightly, uncertain. —I'm not sure if that's a good idea. I'm afraid things might get complicated—her dark eyes look at me with fear, dreading having to go through a similar situation as a few minutes ago.

I take Jenna's hands and gaze into her eyes tenderly. —I understand your concerns, Jen, but I think it's better to face the situation with honesty. Enid is understanding, she's my best friend; I want us to be free to be ourselves, at least in front of her– I admit, giving Jenna a slight smile.

Jenna reflects on my words and realizes I'm right. After taking a deep breath, Jenna smiles at me.

—You're right, we should face the situation together. But let's not mention it to my family, not now obviously— she says and smiles as confirmation. —We just need to be prepared to face the possible consequences– Jenna adds with a smile, instinctively moving closer to me to hug me.

I step back when I see a student approaching in the distance.

Jenna looks at me, puzzled, furrowing her brow. —You need to be more discreet— I whisper as the student walks past us, and Jenna nods slowly.

—Sorry—Jenna whispers, and I give her a sweet smile. —Don't worry... see you later at your house?– I ask, and Jenna smiles at me like the Cheshire Cat.

—This time, serious studying– I say, and Jenna, putting on a disapproving expression, taps her foot on the ground, behaving like a two-year-old.

—Come on, you're 23... you should be more mature– I comment, and she sighs in frustration. —You're 23!– she responds in a joking tone, and I roll my eyes at her behavior.

—You'll be the child—she sticks her tongue out and looks at me with narrowed eyes, arms crossed over her chest.

Shrugging indifferently, I nod my head. —Yeah, I actually am, I'm 17–I said, looking at my nails with little interest. Jenna opened her mouth in indignation. —Close your mouth if you don't want flies to get in– I told her.

Jenna closed her mouth and shifted uncomfortably in her place, looking at me with flushed cheeks.

—Great,  not only am i dating one of my students, but she's also a minor– Jenna murmured to herself, spreading her arms out theatrically. —A few more months and you won't risk jail time, my dear– I said, giving her a sidelong glance. Jenna looked at me, biting her lower lip in concern.

—And you have to admit that you like fucking this underage– I whispered with a teasing smile, earning a glare from Jenna. —You really are an idiot.– Jenna shook her head and tapped me lightly on the shoulder. —Ouch! I can sue you if I want!–I rubbed my arm dramatically and Jenna looked at me with a raised eyebrow. —Will you stop being the jerk?— Jenna sighed loudly, and I smirked.

—It's worth accepting it, after all you love me just the way I am– I admitted, and she shook her head with a smile on her lips. —Yes... I love you like this... now go, I need to go do my job– Jenna blew me a kiss with her lips and turned her back, starting to walk down the hallway.

The "I love you too" presses at the tip of my tongue, finally wishing to come out, but fear overwhelms me, preventing me from telling the truth. I can tell others that I'm in love with Jenna, in this case just to Olivia, but I can't say it to the person directly involved.

—Maybe next time– I whispered into the air before walking away.

(...)

After school, I met Enid in a quiet place, the backyard of her house, to talk. I had sent her a message saying that we needed to talk, and she told me she had something to share too.

Enid looks a bit worried as she gazes at me, trying to understand what I want to say. I take a deep breath and begin to speak with a serious expression on my face.

—Enid, there's something I need to tell you. Jenna and I... are together. We're a couple–I murmur, dropping the news like a bomb.

Enid remains still, eyes wide with surprise. She had intended to share a different piece of news, but my confession leaves her speechless. For a moment, it seems like she's trying to process the situation.

—..I... wanted to tell you that I had worked things out with Ajax. I was planning to talk to you about it today...—Enid interrupts herself, a look of confusion on her face. The blonde looks at me with disbelief.

I look at Enid with anxiety and hope. —I'm sorry, Enid... I didn't mean to put you in an uncomfortable situation. We just... Jenna and I wanted to be honest with you. Our relationship has just started, but we wanted to share it with you.—

In reality, we had been together for a couple of months, but in comparison, it wasn't a long time.

Enid shakes her head, trying to reorganize her thoughts. —It's not that you're putting me in an uncomfortable situation, t/n... it's just... sudden. I didn't expect this. And I must say, you've caught me off guard– Enid sighs and covers her face with her hands, feeling a heavy weight after this revelation.

I lower my gaze, worried about Enid's reaction. —I'm sorry if I surprised you, it's just that... Jenna and I realized we had feelings for each other, and we wanted to try building something special– I confess, fiddling with my fingers.

Enid backs away slightly, a worried expression on her face. —T/n, I understand that you and Jenna love each other, but we need to be mindful of the possible consequences. Jenna is our teacher, and if your relationship is discovered, there could be serious disciplinary consequences for both of you.–

The same words Olivia had mentioned echoed like a haunting reminder, and a frustrated sigh escapes my lips.

I lower my gaze, acknowledging the seriousness of the situation. —I know, Enid. It's a risk we're taking. But we can't ignore our feelings.—

The blonde sighs and approaches me again, her expression concerned. —I can help you keep the relationship a secret, at least until Jenna is no longer our teacher— Enid proposes, and her statement makes me smile.

I smile gratefully for Enid's support. —Thank you, I really appreciate your help.—

—And to think I would have bet that you'd end up with Olivia— Enid genuinely smiles, finding amusement in her statement.

After Enid's remark about Olivia, I become nervous and panicked. In a moment of weakness, I want to say something that will likely get me into trouble. —Enid, there's something you should know... Olivia already knows– I confess, feeling my heart race.

Enid freezes instantly, looking at me with a mix of hurt and disappointment. Tears start forming in her eyes. —How could you? How could you trust everything to Olivia and not to me? I've been your best friend for years– Enid's voice cracks, and I feel like a complete fool.

I look at Enid sincerely, trying to explain the situation. —Enid, I want you to know that Olivia didn't learn about our secret directly from me. She discovered it by accident, she caught us together in a moment of intimacy. I didn't intentionally confide my secret to her— I try to lift the girl's spirits.

Enid feels relieved hearing these words. Her face relaxes slightly as she listens attentively to my explanations. She wipes tears from her cheeks. —If Olivia found out accidentally, then I feel a bit more at ease. I was worried you had trusted her with it without telling me first– Enid shyly smiles at me with moist eyes.

I nod, understanding Enid's concerns. —I assure you, En, that the secret remained between Jenna and me until Olivia found out. I understand your desire to hear it from me, and I apologize again for not telling you personally– I confess, smiling at Enid.

—After all, I know you love gossip—I give Enid a friendly tap, and she bursts into hearty laughter.

—Do the others know? Diego? Spenser... Xavier?– she asks after finishing her laughter, looking at me curiously.

—No, and I'd prefer to keep it that way... I have no intention of telling them... maybe in a few months– I confess, and Enid nods understandingly.

The two friends gaze into each other's eyes, reassured by the strength of their friendship. They know there will be challenges to face, but they're determined to overcome them together.

(...)

I was at Jenna's house having a calculus lesson. After having discussed with Enid, I had to go to Jenna's house to resume studies in the afternoon since the contest was almost there.

—Then, Rolle's theorem establishes that if a function is continuous on a closed interval and differentiable on an open interval within that closed interval, then there exists at least one point in which the derivative of the function is equal to zero— Jenna writes the explanation on a portable whiteboard that she kept on the side of the kitchen.

I put the tip of the pencil between my lips as I look at the teacher with mischievous eyes. To make the lesson more interesting, Jenna and I agreed on a small, innocent detail. Every time I answered correctly, Jenna would remove an item of clothing, and now the teacher was walking around the house half naked. Jenna brushes back a lock of her hair before writing a rough draft, exposing the skin on her body. I had managed to make her take off her crop-top and skirt, as well as her socks with their respective shoes. My eyes wandered over her curves, stopping at the lingerie she was wearing: a white bra and matching panties.

It seems pretty clear to me. Could you give me a practical example to understand it better?” I ask, tilting my head to the side as I look at her toned legs. Jenna nods and begins to write the example. –Imagine you have a function f(x) = x^2 - 4x + 3. We want to find a point where the derivative of this function is equal to zero. First, we must check if the function satisfies the conditions of Rolle's theorem. The function f(x) is continuous on a closed interval [1, 3] and differentiable on an open interval (1, 3)–

Jenna looks at me smiling slightly, her brown eyes sparkling.

-Understood. But how can we check if the values ​​of f(1) and f(3) are the same?” I ask, and Jenna looks at me with a raised eyebrow. "Excellent question!" Let's compute the values ​​of f(1) and f(3). Substituting x = 1, we get f(1) = 1^2 - 4(1) + 3 = 0. Then, substituting x = 3, we get f(3) = 3^2 - 4(3) + 3 = 0. As you can see, the values ​​are effectively the same— Jenna's eyes flicker to my lips before returning her attention to the whiteboard.

—So, can we apply Rolle's theorem in this case?– I ask, crossing my legs.

-Exactly. Since the function satisfies the conditions of Rolle's theorem, we can affirm that there exists at least one point c within the interval (1, 3) in which the derivative of the function is equal to zero— Jenna bites her lower lip and pulls away a lock of hair from his face.

—The derivative of f(x) is f'(x) = 2x - 4, right?—I ask innocently, as Jenna looks at me with a slight smile on her lips.

—Yeah...exactly–Jenna sighs and, resigned, removes her bra, leaving me gawking at the sight.

—Now, to find point c, we must solve the equation f'(x) = 0. So, 2x - 4 = 0. Adding 4 to both sides and dividing by 2, we obtain x = 2—the chestnut nonchalantly explains while Continue writing on the board.

My eyes remain fixed on her breasts, marveling at her shape and her modest size.

—So the point c at which the derivative of f(x) equals zero is x = 2?— I ask, savoring victory.

—Exactly, point c is x = 2.—Jenna's voice softens and, with a resigned sigh, she removes the last item of clothing she was wearing. Jenna gives me a pleading look, urging me to intervene as soon as possible. while licking my lower lip, I was admiring this beautiful work of art.

—So, what's up?—Jenna rolled her eyes in boredom and jumped up to sit on the dresser. My eyes widened at Jenna and my breath caught in my throat as I saw her spread her legs slightly, inviting me closer.

❤❤❤

—I love you!—I spontaneously murmur, resting my head on Jenna's bare chest. I was quite exhausted and couldn't continue with the "rounds" my girlfriend was asking for.

Jenna seems satisfied, her breath heavy and her hair tousled. Her body tenses slightly beneath mine after hearing those words. Our eyes meet, and I see her irises filled with tears.

—Did... did I say something wrong?— I stammer, looking at Jenna with concern. She shakes her head, smiling widely.

—You... you told me... you love me— she whispers, and I open my eyes in surprise.

Now that I think about it, Jenna was right. I nervously bite my lower lip, realizing that I had said those two famous words spontaneously and, above all, in a moment of vulnerability.

Jenna's hand rests on my cheek, and she looks at me tenderly. —It's the first time you've said it to me— she confesses, and I lean into her touch, getting lost in her gaze.

Jenna pulls me closer to her for a kiss, and I enjoy it, placing my arms on the sides of the couch to not crush her with my weight.

—ti amo– I repeat earnestly, pressing my forehead against hers, our noses brushing in an Eskimo kiss. —I'm sorry for telling you while we were making love—I smile, and she returns the smile, highlighting the dimple on her cheek.

Jenna wraps her arms around my neck and lightly bites her lower lip. —It's perfect this way– she confesses, and I look at her with love, seeing the reflection of my face through her crystalline eyes.

—I love you too– Jenna says, giving me a little kiss on the tip of my nose. —How about we get dressed and have something to eat?— she suggests, and I enthusiastically agree.

—It sounds like a great idea— I respond excitedly. We get up from the couch and head to find our clothes scattered on the floor. As we dressed, I couldn't help but smile and feel overwhelmed by the love I felt for Jenna.

Once dressed, we leave the room hand in hand and head to the kitchen. Jenna starts preparing something to eat while I sit at the table, watching her with adoration. I loved seeing her move with grace and skill in the kitchen. It was one of the many talents she had that made me fall in love with her more every day.

After a few minutes, Jenna places a plate of pasta in front of me. Not only was she an expert in bed, but also in the kitchen. I smile gratefully and begin to enjoy the meal with her.

As we eat, we chat and laugh, sharing moments of intimacy and complicity. There's no room for worries or stress in that moment. It's just the two of us, wrapped in the love and happiness that binds us.

We finish eating and remain seated at the table, taking a moment to relax and enjoy each other's company. Jenna looks at me with tenderness and affection, gently stroking my hand.

—You're the best thing that's ever happened to me– she says softly. —I love you more than words can express.—

Tears of happiness fill my eyes as I look at her. I squeeze her hand lovingly. —And I love you more than I ever thought possible. You're my everything, Jenna.—

We embrace tightly, sealing our words with a gesture of love and commitment. In that moment, I know that we're meant to be together, overcoming any obstacle that comes our way.

The love we share is powerful and real. And as we embrace, I know deep in my heart that we've found our happiness in each other's arms.

Comments please

#wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #miércoles addams #jenna ortega x y/n #wednesday x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #wednesday addams x you #professor #enid sinclair #olivia rodrigo #secret love

[steddiealltheway]

Steve comes back to his and Robin’s apartment to the smell of… burning hair? He only knows this from the time when Robin would straighten her hair on a daily basis trying to impress Nancy (and she did).

But she’s stopped ever since they started dating (after Nancy said she liked her no matter what state her hair was in). So as Steve rounds the corner to the bathroom, he isn’t sure what he’s expecting, but it certainly isn’t long, black hair straightened immaculately.

Steve’s heart thuds a bit at the stranger in his home clad in a tight black dress facing away from him, but then Robin’s head peaks around the person and calls out, “Hey, Steve. Didn’t realize you’d be home so early.” She waves at him with what looks to be eyeliner in her hand. The stranger noticeably tenses up.

Steve swallows heavily, gaze desperately trying not to fall down to check out the girl’s ass while Robin is looking. “Dustin wanted some alone time with Susie so…” he trails off.

“Quit flinching,” Robin says to the woman, and really who is she?

“So, Robin,” Steve says awkwardly, “Who’s this?”

Robin peaks around the tall girl - and really she’s very tall, probably Steve’s height - with her eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched up as if Steve is being an idiot. Steve shoots her a look of how am I supposed to know? And Robin has the nerve to roll her eyes.

“Turn around,” Robin says to the girl as if that will explain things.

She hesitates and slowly rotates around.

Steve’s jaw drops - he can’t help it. She’s absolutely gorgeous with dark brown eyes, long lashes, pale skin, and full lips. Robin did such a wonderful job accentuating her features with the heavy makeup she’s applied.

Steve has the nagging thought that she looks so… familiar.

There’s a rustling noise that Steve assumes is Robin digging through her makeup bag, but he’s too busy eyeing this girl up. “Shit, I forgot my blush. I’ll be right back.” Robin shoots past them.

Steve can’t help but send all his gratitude to Robin for leaving him alone with one of her girl friends for once. Time to lay on the Harrington charm.

“I must say, I’m not sure why she’s grabbing blush when you already have such lovely red cheeks,” Steve flirts. Not his best line, but it has the effect of deepening the flush.

The girl opens and closes her mouth a few times, seemingly speechless. Steve take a bold step forward, cornering the stranger against the bathroom sink. “Now, how come I’ve never seen you around here before? I’d certainly recognize such a beautiful face.”

For some reason, this has the girl giving him the most absurd look, similar to Robin’s as if he’s an idiot missing something obvious. Steve’s eyes flicker down to her red lips. “How mad would Robin be if I messed up your lipstick?” Steve questions. He knows it’s super forward, but he just feels such a strong pull to this stranger.

He continues flicking his eyes between her lips and eyes, experiencing an almost strange sense of deja vu. “Steve…” she says in a deep voice that sounds strangely like Eddie’s.

Eddie.

Steve’s eyes widen while flickering all over her his features. He takes in the Adam’s apple for the first time as Eddie swallows deeply. And holy shit. Oh no.

“Hey, Eddie, I found my blush! It was…” Robin trails off looking between the two. “What the hell happened here?”

Steve and Eddie make eye contact and Eddie beats him to a response. “Dear Steve was just fixing my lipstick. Isn’t that right?”

Steve huffs and nods his head maybe a little too intensely.

Robin eyes them suspiciously before saying, “I doubt unsymmetrical lipstick will mess up my art project too badly, but I appreciate it.”

Oh. The art project Robin has been talking about for weeks exploring the masculine and feminine sides of different people. And boy, Steve sure did try to explore Eddie’s feminine side.

He leaves the pair alone, trying not to have a full on crisis about Eddie being a hot girl.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Unfortunately, those thoughts about Eddie don’t stop. Once Eddie had removed the makeup, Steve tried to rationalize that with his hair straight Eddie still looked… girly.

But then Eddie’s over the next day and Steve cannot stop staring at his lips… and his ass, which had looked so great in a dress - and even currently in jeans.

The day after that, Steve can barely form a coherent sentence when speaking to Eddie because he’s getting so lost in his eyes. Apparently they’re just as beautiful without the mascara and eyeliner.

Robin finally notices something is up when Steve dumbly reaches out and tugs at one of Eddie’s curls and states, “I liked the straight hair, but I think you look even better with the curls.”

When Eddie flushes and races to the bathroom, Robin asks, “What the hell was that?”

“What was what?”

Robin narrows her eyes at Steve. “That was a classic Harrington line. I didn’t suffer through your scoops ahoy failures and pick up nothing.”

Steve shrugs and glances down the hall where the bathroom is. As the toilet flushes Steve whispers, “Eddie was just really beautiful in drag, you know?”

Robin gapes at him and asks, “How so?”

Steve elaborates, “I mean. He has the prettiest doe eyes. And his lips are just pretty. Plus, I thought it was really cool how he was the same height as me so it was easy to maintain eye contact and probably kiss him. And he just… has such a wonderful smile and laugh. With the cutest sense of humor. Just overall, really a beautiful girl.”

Robin stares at him for a few moments. “Steve. Those are literally all his qualities outside of drag.”

Eddie chooses this moment to leave the bathroom and make his way down the hall in the middle of Steve’s crisis. He looks between the two and asks, “What did I miss?”

“Congratulations, Eddie. I think you sent Steve into a sexuality crisis,” Robin announces and her eyes immediately widen. “That’s a joke,” she clarifies but not convincingly enough for even a child to believe.

Steve groans and puts his head in his hands. This cannot be happening. He hears some type of hushed conversation occur between Robin and Eddie and then light footsteps down the hall. Steve looks up to find only Eddie in the room.

“Eddie…” Steve starts to say unsure of what he really wants to say.

“What if….” Eddie stop abruptly, “No, it’s stupid.”

“Tell me.”

Eddie looks at Steve and makes his way over to sit directly next to him on the couch. “I know you wanted to ‘mess up my lipstick’ when you assumed I was a girl-”

“Oh god. Please don’t remind me.”

“But,” Eddie continues, “Do you want to still mess up my theoretical lipstick right now when I don’t look like a girl?”

Steve stares at Eddie, noticing how close he is to him. His eyes flicker down to his lips and back to his eyes. “Yes,” Steve discovers.

Eddie nods and continues nodding, seemingly unsure what else to do.

Steve shakes his head. “But that doesn’t make sense because I still like girls. At least, I think I do. I mean, that’s why I liked you. Or, I think it is?”

Eddie stares at him for a moment, searching his face as if the answers are right there in front of him. “Steve, you know you can like both, right?”

Steve stares at Eddie because no he didn’t not know that. And oh shit. That makes so much damn sense.

His mind flashes back to all the times he had looked at other boys and found them attractive, rationalizing that their full lips and pretty smiles just reminded him of the girls he also liked. And the way they laughed at his jokes gave him butterflies because he thought he would be able to make a girl laugh like that…

Steve has got to work on his reasoning skills.

“If you don’t know, you could always…” Eddie trails off as Steve is snapped back into the moment.

“Mess up your theoretical lipstick?” Steve supplies.

Eddie nods.

“What if I just want to kiss you? No lipstick involved?” Steve asks and watches that beautiful flush spread over Eddie’s cheeks, making his heart flutter in his chest.

“I would ask what’s holding you back.”

Steve smiles and kisses Eddie. And yeah. He definitely likes boys, particularly Eddie Munson, even when he isn’t in drag.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet

[mxnsterbabe]

Male Mer/Female Reader SFW Wordcount: 2,119 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist

You meet a strange mer stranded after a storm. He's lonely and lost, and needs you to help him get home.

You awoke to the sound of water sloshing against the wooden planks of your porch. Blinking your eyes open, you quickly realised that the sound wasn't just your imagination. Water was indeed seeping in through the cracks in the floor, wetting your feet and soaking your rug.

The storm last night must have been fiercer than you'd thought. Alarmed, you scrambled out of bed, grabbing a dressing gown to wrap around yourself as you made your way towards the door. The beach had flooded, and your little house was in the middle of it all.

As you stepped onto the wet sand, your eyes widened at the sight before you.

A merman, massive and glinting with scales that shimmered in a myriad of colours, had washed ashore. He lay helplessly on his side, his tail half-buried in the sand, eyes closed as if in pain.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Mers were common in Oceanhall, but not deep-sea mers like him. The sleekness of his long, narrow tail, and the darkness of his narrow eyes gave the impression of something eel-like. You’d never actually seen someone like him in person before; few had.

You recovered quickly, realising that the merman was in trouble. His heavy, muscular body looked impossible to move, but you knew you had to try. Running over to him, you assessed his condition.

"Hey there," you said softly, touching his cool, wet scales. "I'll get you back into the water. Just hold on."

The merman's eyes flicked open, meeting yours with an expression of confusion and gratitude. Except, when you tried to pull him towards the water, you found that he was indeed too heavy to move.

Your mind raced as you looked around for something that might assist you. Your eyes caught sight of the oars from your little boat, and an idea began to form.

"Stay with me," you reassured the merman as you dashed over to the boat, grabbing the oars. "I'm going to try something."

The merman nodded weakly, his inky black eyes wary.

You wedged the oars beneath his body, hoping to leverage him back towards the water. With a grunt of effort, you pushed and pulled, your muscles straining with the weight.

All that happened was that the oars dug deeper into the sand, trapping the merman even further. No matter how you angled them, no matter how hard you tried, it seemed impossible.

Frustration welled up within you, and you threw the oars aside in defeat. The situation seemed hopeless. Your heart ached for the merman, his eyes downcast.

If only your neighbour was around; he was a strong, powerful half-orc. He would have had this guy out in seconds - too bad he was away on holiday with his kids. Dammit.

"It's no use," you muttered, your hands on your hips as you surveyed the scene. Then, it hit you. "We'll have to wait for high tide."

The merman's eyes widened, and you could see him considering your words.

"High tide will bring the water closer, and you can swim back to the sea," you explained, your voice filled with determination. "Until then, we need to keep you hydrated."

Your frustration gave way to a renewed sense of purpose as you grabbed buckets from the hut and began to fill them with seawater. Back and forth you went, dousing the merman with water, keeping his scales moist and his body hydrated.

He watched you, his eyes never leaving your face, as you worked tirelessly to keep him comfortable.

Finally, as you paused to catch your breath, you looked at him and asked, "What's your name?"

His voice was deep and rich, unlike any human voice you'd ever heard, almost as if forming human words was a struggle. It resonated in your ears, sending shivers down your spine. There was a shyness in his eyes, a vulnerability that touched your heart.

"Dune," he answered, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled. “Dune,” you repeated kindly, “nice to meet you. Now, let’s see if we can find you some shade.”

You found an old parasol inside, sticking it deep into the sand to keep as much of Dune out of the sun as possible. He was far too big - his tail alone had to be nearly four foot long, slender and glistening in the sun. Still, it was something, and his sweet - if sharp toothed - smile was enough to make your chest pound.

Soon though, hunger began to gnaw at both of you. Fortunately, fish was cheap and plentiful in Oceanhall. You prepared a simple lunch, apologising as you brought it over to him.

"I'm sorry it's not much," you said, holding out a plate of grilled fish. "I know mer have tricky stomachs, and I didn't want to risk giving you something that might not agree with you."

Dune's eyes widened at the sight of the food, and he smiled, a warm, shy smile that touched your heart.

"Thank you," he said, his voice still carrying that rich, deep tone that was at once both inhuman and endearing. "No one has ever shown me such kindness."

You sat down next to him, watching him eat with a kind of fascination. There was something about Dune that drew you in, an attraction to his otherness, to his uniqueness.

"How did you get stranded here?" you asked, curiosity getting the better of you. "I've never seen a deep-sea mer so close to the shore."

Dune paused, his eyes drifting towards the sea. "I was too close to the surface when the storm hit," he explained, his voice tinged with embarrassment. "The currents were too strong, and I got swept up. By the time I realised what was happening, it was too late."

You could see the regret in his eyes, and you reached out to touch his hand. His skin was cool and smooth beneath your fingertips.

"It's not your fault," you assured him, your eyes locked on his. "The sea can be unpredictable. We'll get you back home soon."

Dune's eyes softened, and he looked at you with a mix of gratitude and something else, something you couldn't quite put your finger on.

"Thank you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "For everything."

You looked at him, really looked, and saw something in his eyes that made your heart flutter. His wide smile, revealing sharp teeth, should have been alarming; but instead, it drew you in. If anything, you liked it a bit too much.

You found yourself leaning closer, your eyes drifting to his lips. His full, peachy-pink lips. Your breath caught in your throat as you realised how much you wanted to kiss him.

Dune seemed to sense it too. His eyes widened slightly, and you could see him caught up in the moment as well, his gaze fixed on your lips. The world seemed to stand still, the sound of the waves fading into the background.

Your hand reached out to touch his face, and he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for a brief moment. His skin was so silky smooth, damp from the seawater, and he smelled of salty seaweed.

As quickly as the mood swept over you, reality set in - you pulled back, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"I, uh, need to get more water," you stammered, standing up and rushing towards the buckets.

As you filled them with seawater, your mind raced. You hardly knew him! Yet, there was something there, something undeniable, something that made your heart race and your palms sweat.

You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. What were you doing? It was all so confusing, so unexpected.

As you looked back at Dune, watching him watch you, his eyes filled with something you couldn't quite define, you knew that whatever it was, it made your heart flutter and your cheeks warm. 

Returning to Dune, you carried buckets filled with cool, refreshing seawater, pouring it gently over his tail and scales. The droplets shimmered in the sunlight, glistening as they ran down his body, and you couldn't help but admire the beautiful patterns they created.

You then settled beside him again, your heart still racing from before. Dune's eyes met yours, and they were so dark you could have gotten lost in them.

"You must think me quite frightening," he said, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "Being someone who's never seen my kind before."

You shook your head, smiling warmly. "Frightening? No, not at all. You're... handsome," you confessed, the words slipping out before you could stop them. "Your strangeness is appealing. It's beautiful."

Dune's eyes widened, and you saw a blush creep up his pale cheeks, his shyness overtaking him once again. He seemed to be contemplating something; then, as if driven by a sudden burst of confidence, he reached out, his cool, smooth hand cupping your face.

Before you could react, his lips were on yours, the kiss tentative at first but quickly deepening. His sharp teeth grazing your lips, his mouth cold but inviting all the same.

You leaned into the kiss, surrendering to it. The way Dune kissed you made your head spin, desperation and desire all mingling into one. 

You lost yourself in the kiss, in the feel of his lips on yours, the taste of the sea that lingered on his tongue, the sensation of his scales against your skin. It was intoxicating, exhilarating, and you loved every second of it.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, your eyes locked on each other, the world around you forgotten.

Dune's shyness came rushing back as you stared at each other; he looked away, his voice becoming more garbled and inhuman as he stammered out an apology.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—I didn't mean to be so forward. I just..."

You silenced him with another kiss, softer this time, full of understanding and reassurance.

"It was unexpected," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But not unwanted."

Dune looked at you, his eyes wide with wonder and relief. His expression softened, and the tension seemed to melt away as you reached up to rake your fingers through his long, silken hair.

"I never thought I'd meet someone like you," he said, his voice still carrying that otherworldly quality that sent shivers down your spine.

"You're one of a kind, Dune," you replied, leaning in to pepper kisses along his jawline. "I'm glad I found you."

Dune closed his eyes, a contented sigh escaping his lips as he leaned into your touch. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining as if holding onto something precious.

"I'm glad you found me too," he whispered, his voice soft.

You felt a sudden dampness at your feet, and you looked down to see the tide had finally reached you, the water lapping gently at the sand.

The realisation hit you both at the same time, and you reluctantly stood, knowing that it was time for Dune to go. He looked up at you, his eyes dark and sombre.

"It's time," you said softly, your voice catching in your throat.

Dune nodded, understanding in his eyes. You reached out to help him, the water soaking through your sandals as you worked together to free him from the sand.

With one last effort, Dune's tail came unstuck, and he was free, floating in the shallow water. He looked at you, his eyes shining, his smile both happy and wistful.

"Thank you, “he said quietly.

You leaned in to kiss him one last time, the taste of salt on his lips, the feel of his scales beneath your fingertips. It was a bittersweet moment, your heart heavy.

"I'll come back," Dune promised, his eyes fixed on yours. "I'll visit when I can. Will you wait for me at high tide?"

You smiled, a tear escaping your eye as you nodded. "I'll be here," you whispered. "Just try not to get stranded again."

Dune laughed, a beautiful, musical sound that made your heart ache. "I'll do my best," he said, his voice tinged with amusement.

Then, with one last look, one last smile, he turned and swam away, his tail disappearing into the waves.

You stood there, your feet embraced by the cool, gentle waves, watching as Dune disappeared into the depths. The last glimmers of sunlight danced across the water, casting a golden trail that seemed to connect you to him even as the distance grew.

A smile played on your lips, a smile filled with warmth, contentment, and a hint of longing. High tide would be back soon enough; and with it, Dune.

#exophilia fiction #exophilia #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #tag: mxnb #tag: male monster #tag: nonbinary reader #tag: sfw #tag: mer

[doumadono]

Emergency request!!. Hi hope im doing this right but i would love some comforting douma if thats possible i dont really have presice ideas. Lately im feeling like i dont enjoy anything anymore even the things i love. There are so many changes with the people that surrounds me and i dont feel mattered or that i belong anymore or that people care. Im used/like to be alone but sometime its just painful idk why. Anyway i had to get these out thank you for indulging in my request and have a good day/night

Origami - Douma x gn!Reader

Synopsis: seeing his partner's sadness, Douma makes a swift decision to lift their spirits A/N: I'm really sorry to hear that you're feeling this way, dear Nonnie. Remember though that it's completely okay to have moments of doubt and uncertainty, especially when facing changes of any kind. Remember, your feelings are valid, and you are never alone in this. You do matter, and there are people who care about you deeply. If you ever need someone to talk to or just a listening ear, I'm here for you

MASTERLIST

In the tranquil garden of Douma's temple, a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of sakuras trees. Amidst the fragrant blooms and lush greenery, Douma's keen eyes caught a glimpse of his significant other, sitting huddled with their knees drawn up, tears glistening on their cheeks in a dim light cast by the moon. Concern etched his features as he approached. "Hey," he murmured softly, his voice a calming melody that seemed to dissipate the heaviness in the air. He lowered himself beside them, his movements deliberate yet unhurried. "Mind if I join you?"

They glanced up, their eyes weary but warm at the sight of him. "Of course, Douma-sama," they replied, their voice carrying a hint of vulnerability that tugged at his heart.

Resting beside them, Douma let the silence linger, understanding the need for a moment of solace. The gentle sounds of nature enveloped them, creating a cocoon of comfort that allowed their thoughts to unravel at their own pace. He watched as they wiped away their tears, their emotions painted across their features.

"You seem… distant," he ventured, his tone gentle yet inquisitive. "Is there something on your mind?"

Their gaze dropped to their hands, fingers fidgeting slightly as they struggled to put their feelings into words. "Lately, everything just feels… different," they admitted, their voice soft as if sharing a long-held secret. "Even the things I used to enjoy, they don't bring me the same happiness anymore."

Douma nodded understandingly, his rainbow coloured eyes filled with a mix of empathy and concern. "Change can be unsettling, especially when it feels like it's altering the things we hold dear," he mused, his words a soothing balm that seemed to resonate with their own feelings. "Trust me, I know this feeling damn too well."

A fleeting silence passed between them, each lost in their thoughts, until Douma gently reached out to take their hand in his. The touch was grounding, a tangible reminder that they were not alone in their struggles. "You know, it's okay to feel this way," he reassured them, his thumb brushing lightly over their knuckles. "Your emotions are valid, and I'm here for you, no matter what."

Their lips curled into a faint smile, gratitude shining in their eyes. "I know you are, Douma. It's just… sometimes it's hard to believe that I matter, that I belong."

His grip on their hand tightened ever so slightly, his gaze unwavering as he met their gaze. "You matter more than you realize," he said earnestly, his voice carrying a weight of sincerity that resonated deep within them. "To me, to the people who care about you, and even to the world surrounding you." With a tender gesture, he brushed a strand of hair from their face, his touch gentle yet reassuring. "You belong right here, in this moment," he assured, his words a promise that hung in the air like a whispered prayer.

They leaned into his touch, their heartache beginning to ebb away, replaced by a sense of comfort they hadn't felt in a while. In that tranquil garden, amidst the blossoming flowers and the soft rustling of leaves, Douma's embrace felt like a sanctuary, a reminder that even amidst change and uncertainty, their significance remained unwavering.

As the tears dried on their cheeks, they found solace in the quiet moments shared with Douma, their bond growing stronger with each word spoken and each touch exchanged.

"You know," Douma began suddenly, his tone gentle yet filled with a hint of mischief, "I've noticed that when the human mind is preoccupied with something engaging, it tends to forget about the troubles that weigh it down."

Curiosity flickered in his partner's eyes, a faint spark of intrigue amidst the cloud of their emotions. "What do you have in mind?" they asked, their voice lingering with curiosity.

Douma's lips curled into a subtle smirk, a playful glint dancing in his gaze. "How about we try our hand at origami?" he suggested. "It's a calming activity that requires focus and creativity. Plus, the sense of accomplishment when you create something beautiful with your own hands can be quite uplifting. I have always wanted to try it out but ever since I'm a demon, I tend to be occupied with more ghoulish stuff," he joked.

"Origami, huh?" they mused, a hint of interest coloring their words. "I've never really tried it before too."

Douma chuckled softly, his smile genuine and encouraging. "Perfect. Then it's a new experience waiting for both of us," he replied. "Come, let's sit down and give it a shot!"

#emergency request #douma fluff #kimetsu no yaiba douma #douma #kny douma #kimetsu no yaiba #douma x reader #douma x y/n #douma x you #divider by cafekitsune #douma demon slayer #upper moon two #kny fluff #kny x reader #kny x you #demon slayer douma #douma x reader fluff #demon slayer fic #douma fic #douma blurbs

[sigyns-drafts]

Hi! May I ask for a Buddha with a fem reader who is very similar to Jataka? She is very sweet on the outside, but has a calm, stoic personality. She struggles with lack of desire and depression.

A/N: Hello! Of course you can, I hope you enjoy what I managed to write from your request!! ♡

You remind me so much of him 💙💛

Buddha & fem!reader

➩ Y/N was just resting under a bodhi tree, the weight of sadness hanging heavily upon her. Though luckily enough for her Buddha, someone she is very close with sees her and realized right away something was up.

He was prepared to comfort her, and only her until they soon found themselves both comforting each other. Sharing things they'd never spoken about and their bond growing ever so stronger!

➩ Reader type: platonic/romantic comfort with Buddha & Fem!reader

⚠: depression, discussion of loosing a loved one and then finding comfort in someone similar to said loved one.

In the tranquil gardens of the monastery, where the fragrance of blooming lotus flowers fell with the soft rustle of leaves, Buddha found Y/N sitting alone beneath the shade of a Bodhi tree.

Her tan skin glowed softly in the dappled sunlight, and her long locks of white hair flowed around her like a shimmering waterfall.

Approaching her with gentle steps, Buddha sensed the weight of melancholy that hung heavy upon Y/N's shoulders.

He knew the struggle all too well, the feeling of sadness that he had suppressed for quite sometime.

It was Y/N who in specific had reminded him too much of this one, certain person he could never get out of his mind.

His beloved older brother, Jakata, who had departed this world long ago.

Maybe that's why he was sticking around this woman for so long, Buddha sometimes would ask himself.

Or perhaps it was because of her sweet personality and calm, stoic demeanour.

"Y/N," Buddha said softly, his voice carrying a soothing warmth.

"I can tell when something is off. Tell me, what weighs upon your heart this evening?"

Y/N looked up, her dark blue eyes reflecting a mix of sorrow and gratitude at Buddha's presence.

She wished nothing more than for Buddha to start worrying about her!

"Oh..it's this emptiness inside me," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

"But please, I wouldn't want to bother you by sharing my sorrows Buddha!"

Buddha chuckled to himself before taking a seat beside Y/N, gently taking her hand in his, offering her his full support.

"No, let me hear every last bit Y/N. I know how it can be sometimes and holding it in isn't the way, so please speak whenever~"

Nervous and hestinant at first Y/N wasn't sure how to exactly describe her delema and what she was feeling, until the words just started to pour out of her mouth like running water.

"I lack desire for anything, the motivation in doing my daily tasks are gone and the weight of this despair suffocates me.."

Buddha nodded understandingly, his own memories of despair and longing resurfacing. She must've been suffering from a deep depression for whatever reason.

"I, too, have felt this suffocating feeling, you know Y/N. You remind me of someone who was once very important to me."

Buddha began, his voice resonating with empathy. Y/N would look at Buddha, raising an eyebrow of concern. He had never opened up to anyone like this before, not to her own knowledge at least!

"Oh? Who is it, please I'm willing to listen in return for your kindness and understanding!"

"My older brother, his name was Jakata. He looked just like you..a spinning fair image."

"Jakata huh? We're we similar in personalities too, if I may ask."

Y/N said with a small smile widening on her lips as she tilting her head. Buddha only nodded in response, smiling back at her.

"He was, but you're even sweeter. Just remember this, dear Y/N, even in the depths of despair, there lies the seed of enlightenment."

As Buddha spoke, his words wove a tapestry of wisdom and compassion, helping Y/N in understanding and finding her eventual hope in getting back on her feet.

"I'll support you through your rough times like you've always done for me Y/N."

"D-Done for you..? What could I have possibly done to help you."

"My simply existing and coming into my life."

Moved by Buddha's words Y/N almost felt herself speechless, she wasn't aware of Buddha's own struggles. Let alone the fact she had been helping him with simply being herself around him.

Tears swelled up in her eyes dark blue eyes, almost as deep as the oceans itself, as she quickly took a deep breath to calm herself.

"Thank you Buddha, truly I.. I don't know what to say. Could you be this seed of enlightenment then?"

Buddha just looked away from her, grinning and suddenly pulling her close into a hug from the side. With each passing moment, Y/N felt the weight of her burdens begin to lift, replaced by a sense of clarity and peace.

Knowing that In Buddha's presence, not only could she find refuge from the storm raging within her, but help him as well.

#writing #record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #romantic #platonic #comfort #slight angst #ror buddha #snv buddha #fem reader #up for interpretation

[dc-and-arfrona]

Relization

Nightwing x GN!Reader

Type: Angst

Word Count: 500+

Masterlist

----

The streets of Gotham City were draped in shadows as Nightwing patrolled, his mind burdened with a growing realization. For months, he had been in a relationship with Y/N, but lately, something had changed. His heart felt distant, detached, as if a veil had fallen between them.

Nightwing found himself perched atop a rooftop, the city skyline stretching out before him. The gentle breeze whispered through the air, offering little solace for the storm brewing within his heart. He couldn't deny the truth any longer: he no longer loved Y/N.

The weight of his realization bore down on him, and Nightwing's usually confident demeanor wavered. He had once believed that his feelings for Y/N would withstand any trial, but love, like life, was complex and unpredictable.

Torn between the desire to spare Y/N's feelings and the need for honesty, Nightwing decided it was time to face the truth. He sought Y/N out, finding them in the familiar comfort of their shared sanctuary.

Y/N looked up as Nightwing entered, a glimmer of hope in their eyes. "Dick, I've missed you," they said, their voice filled with affection.

Nightwing swallowed the lump in his throat, his own voice heavy with regret. "Y/N, we need to talk," he said, his tone measured but tinged with sadness.

Y/N's expression faltered, sensing the weight of Nightwing's words. "What is it, Dick? Is something wrong?" they asked, concern etching their features.

Nightwing took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the floor. "I... I've been doing some soul-searching, Y/N. And I've come to a difficult realization," he began, his voice trembling ever so slightly.

Y/N's eyes widened, fear and confusion flickering across their face. "What do you mean, Dick? Please, tell me," they implored, their voice laced with vulnerability.

Nightwing met their gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and resolve. "I've discovered that my feelings for you have changed," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I no longer love you the way I once did."

Silence hung heavy in the air as Nightwing's words settled between them. Y/N's eyes filled with tears, their heart breaking with each syllable. "But... how? What happened?" they asked, their voice trembling.

Nightwing's shoulders slumped, his own heart heavy with the pain he had caused. "I wish I had the answers, Y/N. Love is a complicated journey, and sometimes our feelings evolve in unexpected ways," he explained, his voice filled with regret.

Y/N nodded, their face a canvas of sorrow and acceptance. "I understand, Dick. It hurts, but I can't force you to feel something you no longer do," they said, their voice tinged with resignation.

Nightwing reached out, his hand gently cupping Y/N's cheek. "You deserve someone who loves you wholeheartedly, Y/N. I want you to find that happiness, even if it's not with me," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.

Tears trickled down Y/N's face as they nodded, a mix of gratitude and pain coursing through their veins. "Thank you for being honest with me, Dick. Though it hurts, I appreciate your courage," they whispered.

Nightwing squeezed their hand, his touch gentle yet fleeting. "I will always cherish the moments we shared, Y/N. You'll forever hold a special place in my heart," he said, his voice filled with genuine affection.

With a heavy heart, Nightwing turned and left, his footsteps echoing the weight of his decision. Love, once a beacon that guided his path, had transformed into a bittersweet memory.

#nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #dick grayson x you #reader x nightwing #nightwing #dc #dc imagines #dc universe #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson imagines #nightwing imagines #robin imagines #robin x reader #robin x y/n #nightwing x y/n

[inkheartedwanderer]

just another manic monday || e.m. (blurb)

a week in the life (eddie) - monday 

eddie x reader

content: domestic fluff :) title inspired by the coolest monday song ever

word count: 0′7k

You hate Monday mornings.

You hate waking up early, limbs heavy and head foggy from sleep; but Eddie swears you're a vision in the early daylight, standing in the doorway, rubbing the sleep off your eyes, stretching the tiredness away.

Early Fall is settling over Hawkins, bringing along deep warm shades of reds and yellows that adorn the trees downtown and chill winds that battle the last traces of Summer heat; and you’ve already swapped your cotton pajama shorts for Eddie’s long flannel pants.

The small kitchenette of the trailer smells like fresh coffee and something else, something sweet that you can’t quite place in your drowsy state. It fills your senses with warmth and home and love. As you lean against the wall, your eyes still closed, your treacherous stomach growls, too loud over the songbirds singing outside and the low hum of the oven.

Eddie chuckles and closes the distance between you in two skips. “Morning, sunshine.” He leans over to kiss you, a quick peck that you’re still too sleepy to reciprocate.

“Mmmph.”

“How cute.” His arms wrapped around you, pulling you in against his chest. Eddie’s soft and hot and smells just so good that you feel yourself melting in his embrace, nestling your face on the crook of his neck. You drape your arms around his waist and beathe him in. The boy takes one, two, three steps back into the small kitchen area and nudges you with his knee. “I’m making blueberry waffles.” 

Prying your eyes open, you lift your chin and look at him, a dopey smile on your lips. “Those are my favourite.”

“I know. There’s also fresh coffee in the pot.” 

“Oh my god, I love you.” Your words come out with a chuckle, a wave of affection and gratitude swelling your heart.

He smiles big, dimples on full show. “I know, babe. I love you too.” He reaches over your shoulder towards the old radio his uncle keeps on the shelves next to the fridge and turns it on. “We gotta wake you up.”

“I am awake.” You pout, but the slight slur in your words betrays you. 

“You’re basically falling asleep on me.” Eddie tries to pull you away from him, hands on your shoulders, but you’re a dead weight and you fall back against him. 

“My mind is alive.”

He cackles. “No more staying up ‘til one on Sundays, missy.” His words are strict, but his tone is light, teasing. “Here,” he uses his free hand to drag a chair towards you and helps you sit down, “don’t move.”

In a matter of minutes, there’s a hot coffee mug in your hand and a plate with waffles in front of you. Unfortunately for you, you’re not a morning person, and Eddie knows it. That’s why he got up half an hour earlier this morning, just to make sure you could have your favourite breakfast today.

He eats faster than you, but is content to sit and watch you slowly come to your senses as you chew on your food. From the radio comes the distorted sound of a piano, a cheery melody that would make you roll your eyes if you didn’t love this song so much. The Bangles’ Manic Monday is too good of a soundtrack for you to complain about the irony.

“Isn’t this that song you like?” Eddie inquires as you finish your breakfast. You nod, mouth full and eyes finally open, caffeine and sugar running through your bloodstream. With a boyish grin, your boyfriend reaches over the table and holds your hands, standing up and pulling you into the living room area. “Come dance with me.”

Before you can even answer he’s swaying your linked arms from side to side, jumping from foot to foot, moving his hips and taking you with him. “It’s just another Manic Monday! Come on, sweetheart, sing!”

You wish you could, but you’re laughing so much that it’s hard to speak coherently, “Wish it was Sunday, ‘cause that’s my fun day!”  

Eddie meets you in the middle of the room and holds your face, slender fingers cold against your cheeks. He kisses you slowly, tenderly, both of you smiling into the kiss like you have all the time in the world. 

Maybe, just maybe, if you get to wake up to fresh coffee, hot waffles and Eddie’s unabashed love every week, Monday mornings won’t be so bad.

                                                 🌷 🌷 🌷

a/n: hello :) I’m currently in a biiiig writing slump, so I’ve decided to fight it by trying my hand and writing short blurbs, one each day of the week. It’s Eddie’s turn! Hope you like it! It’s 1:40am here, so please excuse any mistakes, I’ve done my best to proofread.

Likes, reblogs and comments are welcome and appreciated  💖

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fanfic #fluff #eddie munson #stranger things #em awitl

[callmekenya]

Imagine: Y/n finds himself at a crossroads when his best friend, Stiles, confesses his love, leading to a moment of vulnerability and connection that transcends words.

Y/n stood amidst the bustling halls of Beacon Hills High School, lost in thought as students hurried past him, oblivious to the storm raging within him. He felt the weight of someone's gaze on him, and when he turned, his heart skipped a beat at the sight of Stiles Stilinski, his best friend, leaning against the lockers with a small, hesitant smile playing on his lips.

"Hey," Stiles greeted, his voice soft yet filled with an underlying tension. "You okay?"

Y/n nodded, though the turmoil in his mind begged to differ. "Yeah, just... thinking."

Stiles nodded, his eyes never leaving Y/n's face. There was a longing in his gaze, a silent plea that Y/n couldn't decipher. "I, uh, wanted to talk to you about something," Stiles began, fidgeting with the strap of his backpack nervously.

Y/n's heart raced as anticipation coursed through him. "Sure, what's up?"

Stiles took a deep breath, steeling himself before meeting Y/n's gaze head-on. "I... I don't know how to say this, but... I think I'm in love with you, Y/n."

Time seemed to stand still as those words hung in the air between them, the weight of Stiles' confession settling over Y/n like a heavy blanket. He searched Stiles' eyes, seeing the vulnerability and fear hidden behind the facade of confidence.

Y/n's mind raced, thoughts colliding and emotions swirling within him. He had never considered the possibility that Stiles might feel the same way he did, and yet, here they were, standing on the precipice of something entirely new and terrifyingly beautiful.

A myriad of emotions washed over Y/n - disbelief, joy, fear, and a profound sense of gratitude. Gratitude for having someone like Stiles in his life, someone who had always been there for him, someone who knew him better than he knew himself.

Without a word, Y/n closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Stiles in a tight embrace. Stiles hesitated for a moment before returning the embrace, holding Y/n as if afraid he might vanish if he let go.

In that moment, amidst the chaos of high school corridors and teenage insecurities, Y/n and Stiles found solace in each other's arms, their unspoken love transcending words and filling the empty spaces within their hearts.

And as they stood there, locked in an embrace that spoke volumes more than words ever could, Y/n knew one thing for certain - no matter what the future held, he would always have Stiles by his side, guiding him through the darkness and into the light.

#male reader #top male reader #teen wolf stiles #stiles stilinski #masterlist #masterlist 1

[mayhem-things]

This one shot was requested by:

@tilldeathripsusapart

Øystein has flashbacks of his ex band member Pelle but his girlfriend y/n comforts him

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

Øystein sat in his dimly lit room, the weight of the memories still heavy on his shoulders. Y/N, ever the understanding presence, sat beside him on the bed, their hands gently intertwined. She knew he needed space, but she also knew he needed her by his side.

"I'm so sorry you have to see me like this," Øystein murmured, his voice barely audible, filled with both gratitude and self-blame. He tried his best to hide his face, turning away.

"Don't be sorry" Y/N said softly. "I'm here because I want to be. We're in this together, remember?"

He nodded, appreciating her unwavering support. The room was silent for a moment, the only sound being the rain tapping against the windowpane.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Y/N asked gently, knowing that sometimes, voicing the pain could help ease the burden.

He took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "It's just... sometimes the memories of Pelle come back so vividly, and I feel helpless all over again. He was like a brother to me, and I couldn't save him." It was a statement, admitting his trust for y/n. He never told anyone of his true feelings lungering inside him. Euronymous often claimed he had no friends, no feelings and no pity for anyone yet y/n could see through this facade.

Tears welled up in his eyes, and his girlfriend wiped them away with her thumb, offering a tender smile.

"You can't blame yourself, Øystein. You did everything you could. Mental health struggles are complex, and it's not your fault. Pelle knew you cared about him deeply."

Øystein leaned into her touch, seeking comfort in her warmth and understanding. "I miss him so much. It's like a never-ending ache in my heart."

Even for her this reaction was surprising, not expecting such true felt thoughts behind those beautiful eyes. It was like he had a soft spot reserved for y/n's eyes only.

She couldn't resist and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close.

"It's okay to miss him. Grief takes time, and it's okay to feel all these emotions. I'm here to listen and support you."

With her encouragement, Øystein began to share memories of Pelle – the laughter they had shared about scaring strangers on the street, the dreams they had woven together, and the music they had created, a whole new genre not available for the public. He spoke of the pain he felt when he found him, the guilt that gnawed at him for not taking the signs serious. Euronymous knew about his thoughts and mental health, however he never could have imagined he actually would do it.

Y/N listened attentively, letting him express his feelings without judgment. She understood that sometimes, words alone weren't enough, so she held him tight, offering a silent understanding that conveyed more than any spoken language ever could.

As Øystein continued to open up, he felt a sense of relief washing over him. It was as if each memory shared lightened the burden he carried within. Y/N's presence and acceptance were like a balm for his wounded suffering soul.

In the quietude of the room, their connection grew stronger, a deep bond forged through vulnerability and compassion. He knew he was not alone in his pain; he had Y/N by his side, holding him up when he felt like crumbling.

With his girlfriend giving him a sense of strength, Øystein looked into her eyes, gratitude and love shining through. She had been his rock, guiding him through the darkness and reminding him that he was worthy of love and healing.

Without a word, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a gentle, heartfelt kiss. It was a kiss filled with unspoken emotions, a tender exchange of solace and support. In that moment, they found solace in each other, knowing that together, they could weather any storm.

As they pulled back from the kiss, Y/N smiled softly, her eyes shimmering with understanding. "We'll get through this together, Øystein. I promise."

He nodded, a sense of hope rekindling within him. With Y/N's love, he knew he could face the past and find a way to heal. They held each other close, finding strength in their shared embrace, ready to face whatever challenges life threw their way. In the sanctuary of Euro's room, they had found a sanctuary in each other's hearts.

Knowing they're not alone.

#mayhem #black metal #depressing shit #depressiv #euronymous #oystein aarseth #fan fic stuff #fan fiction #fanfic #lord of chaos #lords of chaos #rory culkin x reader #rory culkin #euronymous x #Øystein aarseth #øystein

[illyrian-dreamer]

Frozen Flames (Part 7)

Lucien x Reader

Summary: You and Lucien have been growing closer. That is, until you find out he’s mated...

Warnings: Mentions of death, violence. 

Get ready for a fight!

Word count: 1,572

Part 7:

∇

The next morning you woke in Lucien’s bed while the male slept next to you, his heavy arm draped over your midriff. The weight of him calmed you, sinking you further into the mattress. You couldn’t help but reach out, tucking a long auburn strand behind his pointed ear as he breathed deeply.

You sighed, knowing you had duties to attend to, and you needed to leave the warmth of his bed. Kallias had mentioned a mission in Autumn Court before Solstice, but hadn’t given any detail. You were to meet with him today.

You carefully slipped out from Lucien’s arm and padded across the room, picking your clothes from where they lay on the floor from the night before.

Turning back, you stole one more look as Lucien slept undisturbed in his bed, strong limbs now sprawled across the bed. You noticed the fire dimming from the corner, and placed a few more logs to keep the male warm while he dreamt through the morning. You wouldn't want him to feel cold.

You had a busy morning of checking in on the orphanage and homes of the less fortunate of Winter Court, delivering wood and belated Solstice gifts from the High Lord. You beamed at the delight of the children, tears stinging at your eyes as they laughed and played with new toys, a few fighting over the presents.

While the orphans were few, there were more than ever before – a result of Amarantha’s reign. Many of their parents had sacrificed themselves to rescue Kallias from Under the Mountain, each one of them unsuccessful against the magic she stole. You remembered their faces, Amarantha ending each of their lives in cruel and unforgiving ways, their bodies left for weeks to make an example of them. You wished you could tell the orphans how brave their parents were.

You were much older than them, but shared their sadness – left without a parent in a time when you desperately needed one. With a few tears escaping you, you let your heart swell at their momentary happiness on this holiday, and paid gratitude to the Mother above that you had at least grown up with one parent.

It was midday by the time you returned to the castle. You were hungry, and thought you might see if Lucien had woken yet. There was a cozy tavern in the heart of the city that made the best pies in all of Winter Court, perhaps he would like it there?

You turned to make your way to Lucien’s guest room, to instead find a maid hurrying to you.

“Lady Y/N,” she gasped, out of breath from running. You frowned at her urgency.

“What is it?” you asked, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder to steady her.

She panted, clutching at her chest. “The High Lord, he wishes to speak with you urgently.”

Your frown deepened. “What is this about?”

The maid shook her head, slowly regaining her breath. “Unsure my lady. Please, find him in his office.”

You nodded, steering for the direction and making your way to meet with Kallias.

You didn't bother knocking on the office door before you flung it open. Your cousin sat at his desk, his face grave as he stared straight at you, chin resting atop his hands in deep thought. Viviane was there, one hand on his shoulder, her eyes softening as she saw you.

“What’s happened?” There was no point with pleasantries. “Have we been attacked?”

“No,” Kallias answered tightly.

“It’s not of that nature,” Viviane added, making her way over to you and guiding for you to sit. You did so reluctantly, your face riddled with confusion.

Kallias’s face gave nothing away. There was a moment of silence between the three of you – it drove you mad.

“What–?”

“It’s Lucien.”

You blinked. “Lucien?”

“Tell me you didn’t spend the night together,” Kallias said.

You scoffed at your his audacity. “Not that it’s any of your business cousin, but perhaps I did.”

You waited for any sense of playfulness from the High Lord, but instead he sighed, burying his face in his hand as he shook his head in dismay. Viviane’s face dropped as she glanced between the two of you.

They weren’t telling you something.

“What is it?” you asked quickly, your heart already in your stomach.

“I’m sorry Y/N, we had no idea. We were informed just now,” Viviane said softly, her eyes full of sympathy.

“Informed of what?”

“Lucien,” Kallias said, taking a deep breath. “Lucien is mated.”

Your heart stopped beating – your stopped moving altogether. You were sure the blood in your veins stopped flowing, freezing as the words shook you to your core.

“Mated?” you repeated.

Kallias sighed. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

Red filled your vision then. You could hear Viviane apologising again, a soothing hand patting your arm – but your heart pounded in your ears, her words and touch a world away.

“When?” You swallowed, and you could feel frost glazing over your eyes.

Kallias looked at Viviane nervously, knowing what that frost could do. “Last spring. Before the war.”

Ice began to form at your fingertips, causing Viviane to withdraw and return next to her mate. “How is this possible?” you said, your eyes focused in the distance.

“We’re not sure why it was never mentioned.”

“Because he kept it a secret,” you said, your voice laced with ice. That bastard. That lying bastard.

“It seems so,” Viviane said sadly.

“I’ve asked him to pack his things, cousin. You won’t have to see him again.”

The ice reached your veins then. “Where is he?”

Kallias and Viviane exchanged a look. “Why?”

You ignored their question. “Where is he?” you repeated, trying to keep your anger under control. Your anger – it had been so uncontrollable lately.

“In his room. Packing,” Kallias offered, knowing he couldn't stop you.

You stood immediately, rage blinding you as you made your way to find Lucien.

That insidious, selfish bastard. How dare he use you for his own pleasure while having a mate.

Your heart thundered in your ears as you did your best to to conceal your magic, ice itching to erupt from your fingers, leaving a trail of frost-kissed marble as you stormed to find him.

Lucien’s door was in front of you now, and you could hear the males heartbeat from within the room. Icy rage had you raising your palm to the entrance, and a blast of cold magic sent his door flying open.

Lucien whirled, his metal eye whizzing as he looked at you, bewildered.

You stepped past the bags at the door, marching right up to the red headed male.

“How dare you,” you seethed.

“Y/N, I can explain.”

You pushed at his chest, shoving Lucien back as your rage answered for you. “Explain what?” you spat. “Explain how you took me to bed, without so much as a thought to tell me you’re mated?”

Lucien let you push him, his palms already raised in surrender. “Please, just listen–”

But you were too far gone to listen to his sorry excuses. You had trusted him, you had let him woo you. And he betrayed that trust.

“Leave, and never return,” you hissed, turning for his door before you could actually hurt him, untrusting of your own rage.

A hot hand caught your wrist, the heat of Lucien’s skin burning against your cold. You snarled at him, trying to pull your hand back.

“Y/N, stop, it’s not what you think–,” Lucien was close to yelling now, his frustration building. “Let me explain!”

You had struck before you knew it. Ice hissed against Lucien’s skin as he recoiled, steam evaporating from him as he stared at you in shock. You panted, your eyes an eerie white as cold clouded your vision.

Lucien’s face turned from hurt to anger in an instant, and you could feel the heat radiating from him at this distance. He eyed the magic that continued to build at your palms, your hands raised to attack. “Don’t you dare,” he snarled.

You snapped again. An sphere of ice magic shot straight for Lucien’s head. The male ducked with not a moment to spare, using his own fire magic to evaporate the ice into thin air.

Lucien turned back to you slowly. He was furious. He stalked towards you, but you held your ground, staring up at the male with nothing but hate in your eyes.

Lucien grabbed both your wrists, pushing you against the wall and trapping you in his large hands. His russet eye glowed like embers, the metal one fixed and narrowed.

“Try that again. I dare you.”

He was close now, so close you could feel his breath on your face as he snarled down at you. You hated him, but hated yourself even more for the sudden urge to close your lips of his. You could feel the ice leaving your eyes, as if his proximity alone melted your defence.

No – enough was enough. He would not make a fool of you again. You grunted as you shoved him off, Lucien releasing your wrists as he staggered back.

“Have you calmed yourself now?” he asked, a mixture of anger and cruel amusement laced in his voice.

“Get out of my court,” you spat, before pushing yourself from the wall and slamming his door shut behind you.

Lucien didn’t chase you this time.

--------

AN: Alright, we’re here now. We’re doing lovers to enemies to lovers. Strap in tight! 

Also hope you liked this part/comment to join the tag list/thank you for reading/love you forever <3

Tags: @jazmin2211​ @timecharm​ @itscaitymoore​ @honeyrydernot @brekkershadowsinger​ @fall-myriad @iceystars404 @kennedy-brooke @marigold-morelli @judig92 @cosmic-whispers @issybee0611 @psychobookaholic @fieldofdaisiies

#lucien #lucien vanserra #lucien acotar #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fandom #acotar fanfic #lucien fluff #lucien angst #lucien vanserra angst #acotar angst #lucien x reader #mating bond #sarah j maas