#I imagine he didn't show much skin before either but now he's always attending with sleeves and a higher collar

[harlowsbby]

Bare wit me

"Are you embarrassed of me or something." All eyes on were on Jack and You in the moment but you could honestly care less you were tired of hiding in the shadows and acting like your relationship with him was a figment of your imagination.

"Baby let's not do this here come on let's go home and we can discuss this there." With his head low he went to grab your hand and pull you through the now formed crowd.

"No I'm not going home with you. I want an answer Jackman right here and right now." You said sternly and you knew you probably looked crazy but you didn't care, you were tired of being in the shadows and having to be kept a secret and having to be cropped out or edited out of every single group picture taken with Jack and the rest of the Private Garden.

"Y/N not now." He said sternly but you shook your head the tears falling down your face as you did.

Looking between Neelam and Drama you knew they were probably the reason as to why things between Jack and You have been a secret and you honestly despised them for that.

"Y/N you don't get it." Neelam tried to reason with you but you didn't want to hear what she had to say.

"No I don't get it Neelam nor do I think I will ever get it. I’m done dealing with you Jack and dealing with your bullshit.”

"Y/N you don't get it." Neelam tried to reason with you but you didn't want to hear what she had to say.

"No I don't get it Neelam nor do I think I will ever get it. I'm done baring with you Jack and baring with the bullshit. If you love me or loved me like you say you do then that's the issue." You barked at him your fist balling at your sides, your nails digging into the palms of your hands.

"Fuck it's.. it's because I."

Earlier that day

“Jack the red carpet starts in a few minutes hurry up so we can head over there.”

“Gosh I love you so much.”

“Stop Jack get off me you have to go now.” You laughed while Jack started leaving kisses on your neck and sucking on your skin softly.

“Jack please or else you’ll be.. you’ll be.” You moaned softly you cursed feeling him smirk against your skin, he knew and loved the effect he had on you.

“I’ll be what baby?”

“You’ll be late Jackman let’s go.” Neelam’s voice came from the doorway causing you to yelp and jump as she pulled Jack away from, you smiled and laughed and blew Jack a quick kiss which he caught and returned before going out the door.

“You two are so cute together I’m so happy you found love.” You friend Lilly’s voice came from the doorway you smiled and pulled Jack’s hoodie over your head before getting up and walking towards the bathroom with Lilly behind you.

“Thank you Lilly but you know I do hate that I’m not allowed to attend the award shows with him.” Ever since you gotten into this relationship with Jack you weren’t exactly allowed to “date” him.

Since you were always around Jack they had to cut you out of pictures or crop you out of pictures the two of you were taken in together just so fans wouldn’t start getting skeptical as well as the blogs.

“Have you tried talking to Jack about it? I mean if I was in your situation I’d be really upset.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Lilly I just think it’s best I just keep going with the flow, besides I don’t want to start any drama.” You hated this you did but it was either be Jack’s little not so secret or not be with him completely.

Lilly shrugged it off and just decided it was best to put this conversation to rest for now.

Later on that evening you’d be meeting up with Jack at this hotel room. Neelam planned a big surprise for him in honor of him getting nominated for three Grammys. Lilly and You spent the evening walking around The Grove in LA trying to find something to wear.

“Dude when is Jack going to get into a relationship?”

“I know I hate that he’s single a man like that needs a girl.” Looking up from the rack of clothing you spotted a few of Jack’s fans. They had on his merch from his recent tour Come Home The Kids Miss You.

“Not them talking about your man.”

“I know shh so I can listen.” The two of you hid behind the corner trying your best to hear what the two girl were saying.

“I mean rumor is he’s dating somebody but nobody knows who.” Your heart started racing a bit even though you were always taken out of picture maybe just maybe someone caught a picture of the two of you holding hands at a restaurant or backstage at one of his shows.

“Everyone thinks it’s Mariah The Scientist.”

“Mariah? Isn’t she dating Young Thug.”

“So that doesn’t mean anything I mean have you seen the latest pictures of them on the red carpet right now? She’s practically all on him and he isn’t exactly stopping her.” You heard all you needed to hear before storming out of the store with Lilly hot on your tail.

“Y/N can you slow down?! Jack isn’t cheating on you; Mariah is dating Thug there’s no way he’d cheat on you.” You knew that rumors were made up every day about the newest girl Jack was “seeing” but you hated it, at times you just wanted to expose your relationship with Jack.

“Pull up the pictures.” Lilly pulled up the picture of Jack and Mariah and sure enough there he was with his hand resting dangerously close to her ass, in the picture they were both looking at each other as if they were in love, his fans were already making shipping names for them both.

“Y/N are you okay?” Lilly caressed your hand and frowned she knew how badly you wanted that to be you but according to Neelam and Drama right now wasn’t the right time.

“I’m okay let’s just go back home and get ready so we can head over to the hotel.” The car ride back was very silent, the only sound coming from when Lilly had to turn or switch lanes.

All you could think about was Jack and what the two of you had. Was this even considered a relationship? It wasn’t fair you had to hide and act like you two weren’t together. God forbid if the roles were reversed maybe then Jack will understand how you felt and understand your frustration.

After showering and getting ready you decided on something comfortable but still sexy paired with the silver chain Jack gifted you awhile back.

“Are we taking shots before we go inside? I didn’t buy this bottle of 1942 for nothing.” Lilly grinned and you laughed before pulling two shot glasses out of your purse, Lilly looked at you as if you had two heads.

“What? I always come prepared.” After a couple shots later you both exited out the Uber, hand in hand as you walked in the hotel before walking over to the elevator and going up to the floor the party was on.

“Are you nervous?” Lilly asked you, even though you knew mostly everyone coming you did know Rolling Stone and a few of the people in charge of the Grammy’s were attending.

“Just a little, still sucks I can’t be around Jack. But enough talking about that situation let’s just enjoy tonight yeah?”

“Yeah let’s get fucked up tonight.”

Lilly and You did just that, the two of you taking shots and offering shots to Nemo and Ace as well as Urban. Jack sat with Neelam and Drama watching you with a sad smile on his face. Jack so badly wanted to join you and have fun with you but he knew he couldn’t.

“Why is she drinking so much? She does know we have important people here tonight right.” Neelam scoffed and went to go find the CEO’s of Rolling Stone, Jack rolled his eyes at her and focused his attention back on you.

He laughed watching how you struggled to shove the show down Urban’s throat who kept gagging at the smell of tequila.

“Urban stop resisting!! Just take the damn shot!”

“I don’t want the shot Y/N, please someone help me!!”

Jack laughed at Urban’s failed attempt for a call of help because you most definitely got him to take that shot as well as several other shots.

“I hate that you two have to act like you aren’t a thing.” Mariah’s voice came from behind Jack, she passed him a drink of water and he thanked her.

“It really does suck trust me and I know she hates it, Lilly has told me many times and besides I can see it on her face whenever we go out.” Jack saw the pain on your face he noticed the times you craved his touch whenever you two were out.

“Well why not just say fuck it I mean who cares what anybody thinks Jack, that’s your girl and if anybody has an issue fuck them and what they think.”

“It’s not as easy as you think Mariah.”

You were out of it everything was spinning and everyone had two or three of blurry faces, giggling you flopped on the couch next to Lilly.

“I see you’re having a good time.”

“A veryyyy good time.” You dragged out your words followed by more laughter.

“Well that good time is coming to an end, looks like Mariah is all up on Jack again.” Lifting your head that felt ten times heavier you saw Mariah running her fingers along Jack’s chain you had gifted him before caressing his cheek, now to you it seemed like she was caressing his cheek but in reality she was getting some sauce off his cheek.

“Y/N?” Urban asked in a warning tone but it was too late you were already marching over towards Jack and Mariah.

“What the hell is going on over here huh? Stop touching my man.” Several gasp were heard from across the room and people began to whisper.

“Y/N baby what’s your issue.” Jack whispered harshly.

“You’re my issue Jack I’m tired of you keeping us a secret and now you’re cheating on me with Mariah.”

“Y/N I don’t want Jack trust me, I’m with Thug but it seems like you both have something deeper than this so I’ll just let you both two it.” Mariah gave you a sincere smile before leaving the room.

Everyone’s attention was now drawn onto Jack and You, maybe it was the alcohol that gave you a boost of confidence or maybe it wasn’t but you weren’t and couldn’t holding back your anger and frustration anymore.

“Cheating on you? What makes you think I’m cheating on you.”

“Are you embarrassed by me Jack? Is any of this even real.” Your fist clenched and unclenched. Everyone in the room watching the two of you almost everyone shocked that Jack was indeed in a relationship.

“Come on Y/N you’re drunk let’s talk about this somewhere else.”

“No I’m not going home with you I want a answer Jackman and I want it now.” Your eyes stung with tears and you were positive your makeup was running but all that didn’t matter in that moment.

You looked between Neelam and Drama both of them giving you sour looks you knew that had a say so in your relationship with Jack and you hated them for that.

“Y/N you don’t understand we’re doing this for Jack and for You.” Scoffing at Neelam’s words you faced Jack again.

“Tell me now. Why can’t everyone know about us and I don’t want that excuse about how wild and crazy your fans can be, tell me the truth the real reason as to why I’m always being kept a secret.”

Lilly gave Jack pleading eyes. The whole time you assumed that Jack not going making your relationship public was to keep you safe but it was the opposite. The only reason he kept things a secret because he was in love with someone else and that someone wasn’t Mariah.

“It’s because.. because.”

“Because what Jack.” Jack felt his face getting pale with every second and minute that went by.

“Because.. I’m fuck Lilly and I have been a thing for the past few months.”

“What?”

(Let me know what y’all think 🤍)

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n

[worstloki]

hi so quick question what if I make Loki aroace in every one of my WIPs. like not even as an actual plot point just as a side note where he maybe makes puns about it (in the more lighthearted ones) or by having Asgard's aphobia contribute to his heap of self-esteem issues (in the angstier ones). what if I just. do that

well i mean i’m going to be reading it either way but that’d be??? real neat??? considering the blatant lack of ace loki fics??? and good aroace Loki content would be fabulous??? more people should realize they just. can. and it only takes a few lines to do it so go for it??? i don’t see any downsides here??? 

#I fill in gaps to the MCU with Comic Asgard so yeah I assume the casual drinking/sex culture would throw Loki off SO much #like #suppose people hold feasts and Fandral has three women perched on his knees and Thor is telling women of their battle today #and Hogun is drinking and correcting Volstagg as he tells the children stories but that's because it's Hogun and Volstagg is married (??) #and then I just imagine Loki age 15 realizing he doesn't like when people touch him #he doesn't see anything 'special' about kissing or sleeping with women or men or anyone #I just imagine Loki spending more time learning to be silent during feasts unless telling children a story or arguing with Thor's #I imagine he didn't show much skin before either but now he's always attending with sleeves and a higher collar #I imagine he notices eyes on him when he walks around perfectly fine on his own but it's a celebration and everyone is pairing off to leave #I imagine he'd just think about trying a relationship but not bringing himself to do it and then not even knowing why #because I doubt a culture that glorifies violence and thrives on patriarchal values is going to appreciate a guy who isn't interested in sex #I also like to think if Amora were around he'd try and explain a bit and she'd help out and parade their relationship #maybe she'd try her hand at figuring out what's wrong with him because he doesn't even know #maybe he'll cry when she tells him none of her attempts at a cure are working out #maybe he'll build a reputation on solitude #on joining in with things but always being the odd one out #so no one will find it strange when everyone else is very enthusiastically heading off to bedchambers in groups #and he's perfectly content practicing his magic tricks or reading a book in the corner #and lets not think about whether he'd pin the aroace thing on being jotun too because surely *that* was the problem this whole time #not when we can think about the equation of sex to a relationship which in itself would just leave Loki so lost to begin with #the sex? sure. maybe he just hasn't found anyone he finds attractive yet. but how does he explain any of the rest if he's to pretend? #in conclusion: #angst good #fluff good #all of it good #ace loki #LokiIsAceAU #i don't know why all the ace loki stuff is being angst recently but i promise i'll try for something lighter later XD

[under-sedationnn]

the arcana: main six reacting to injured! reader

anonymous: Could u do m6 reacting to mc coming home injured? I want some hurt/comfort >:))

Warnings: talk of being injured, blood. if that bothers you or tiggers you in anyway, please scroll away! i want this to be a safe place, only :)

thanks for the request anon!! i hope you enjoy!! <3 requests for the kissing prompts and physical affection prompts are STILL OPEN. please send them in with the character of your choice (which could be any character from any series i write for) and i will create an imagine!! thanks and happy reading!!

- tries his very very best to stay calm

- you can see panic bubbling under the surface

- faust is on high alert

- slithers around your shoulders and squeezes you for a hug

- "friend! hurt!"

- doesn't immediately ask what happened, just gets you to a comfortable place to be cleaned up

- then, and only then, will he brave to ask what happened to you

- or who did this to you

- wipes the blood from your skin with very gentle swipes

- winces when you wince, and apologizes profoundly

- "Y/n, how did this happen? i thought you were just taking a quick trip to the market."

- "i fell in the market, tripped over a stone"

- "and nobody helped you?"

- in this case he's disappointed with the bystanders, but does not become angry

- in a situation where someone hurt you?

- oh god

- "Y/n, how did this happen? i thought you were just taking a quick trip to the market."

- "yeah, well, somebody had their eye on the same apple i picked up. somehow, though, they managed to push me to the ground and steal it from my hands."

- i don't even think he would know what to say

- and asra is not really the type to march out into the streets of vesuvia and seek to challenge the one who hurt you

- but he would certainly hold a grudge against whoever it was if he did find out

- and would feel absolutely awful about letting you get hurt

- his mind would race about the possibility of losing you again

- because he simply can't handle it

- and what if that person had been particularly violent or malicious? what if you had been taken??

- you'd have to comfort the hell out of him to make sure he knows that you're okay

- "asra, hey, i'm fine! i can handle myself, you know that"

- "you're right, and i know you're right. it's just hard"

- "it's still hard for me, too. the market still makes me a little nervous and i got caught a little off guard, is all"

- that would make him feel better

- would finish patching up your wounds and would make sure to bring you to julian the next day if they were too bad for him to fix or needed stitches

- would also create a special brew to help with the pain and ease you to sleep

- "why don't i go down to the market tomorrow?"

- "why? so when you pick a fight over apples, i can pay you back for all of this high quality medical treatment?"

- "well of course, surely you didn't expect all this tender love and care to be free" *wink*

- panicked doctor mode enabled

- immediately begins checking you over, asking questions

- something tells me it would be a head injury of some sort

- "oh darling, what happe- you're bleeding!"

- "julian, i'm okay! it's just a little scratch"

- "no no no you might need stitches, come sit down. i'll go get my kit!"

- there's really no use in arguing

- he has cold ass hands, so he tries to warm them up before he begins suturing the wound

- tries to be gentle, and his expert hands move quickly without any snagging

- "so, how did this happen?"

- his voice is literally trembling

- "well, i was in the clinic grabbing the list of ingredients we need for our next grocery trip and there was a puddle of... something on the floor. i slipped and hit my head on the corner of your desk"

- immediately thinks it's his fault

- like "oh shit i should have cleaned better that could have killed y/n and then what would i have done-"

- doesn't necessarily voice this, but you can tell by the silence that follows that he's feeling really guilty

- would kneel for you, head on your knees

- "y/n, i am so sorry"

- "juli, it's really okay, i should have watched where i was going"

- "i'll make sure to clean better from now on, okay?"

- would guard you throughout the night in case of concussion

- nurse juli <3

- but let's say someone had put their hands on you

- would patch you up the same way, and apologize profusely for not being there with you

- tuck you into bed and fetch mazelinka to keep an eye on you throughout the night incase of a concussion

- would most definitely be self destructive and seek that mf out

- maybe not successfully, but would try his hardest

- "i'll be back in the morning, get some rest"

- "I can find them myself if I want to, you know"

- embarrassed blush

- because he KNOWS you can take care of yourself

- "of course, but right now you're hurt. as your partner, i will do what must be done on your behalf darling"

- probably shows up the following morning with battle scars of his own

- the guards found you in the garden, passed out in the maze

- blood trickled down your arm, a large gash marking your bicep

- ran you up to the palace and immediately to the medical wing

- them]n nadia gets word

- the calm, collected queen act disappears

- abandons anything she's doing, anybody she's talking to

- "we will finish this at a different time, i have more important matters to attend to"

- she is so worried and it's honestly adorable

- very much giving "where tf are they?" energy

- god i love her so much

- anyways um

- asks the nurses over and over what happened, if you're okay, etc.

- watches the physicians and nurses like a hawk as they clean the wound and suture the cut

- and they're so intimidated lmao they never come face to face with her literally ever

- brushes your hair back from your face as they do so

- holds your hands

- would demand that you be brought to her sleeping chamber

- so that's where you wake up! how cute

- she's laying beside you, her brows furrowed

- maybe even her eyes are a little hazy

- "y/n, sweetheart, do you remember what happened?"

- patiently waits for your answer, you're still a little groggy

- you were either attacked by an animal and passed out from the fright

- or you were attacked by an armed person and was knocked out

- either way, the guards are on it

- nadia isn't letting whoever or whatever did this get away without a fight

- the palace is meant to be a safe haven for you

- for the both of you

- "well, don't you worry, we'll take care of that"

- you try to sit up but she won't let you

- "oh no, you must stay down, y/n. you are possibly concussed from the fall"

- "oh okay, sorry"

- "is there anything i can get you?"

- the countess of vesuvia, serving you in your time of need

- "just some water would be nice"

- "of course, i'll have some brought up right away"

- i literally feel like he would just start crying straight up

- cause like he has some problems anyway

- he big sad boi

- and you coming home to the hut bleeding from a gash in the arch of your foot is not helping

- picks you and carries you to the bed without a word

- just starts examining the cut

- inanna is also very concerned

- she licks the blood from the cut, she's trying to be helpful

- meanwhile muriel is stumbling around the hut looking for anything to stop the bleeding, disinfect it, bandage it, anything

- but he's not the best about keeping that stuff in stock

- keeps looking back at you with worry in his eyes

- he doesn't know what to do

- "muriel, let me see if i can contact asra. maybe he or julian can bring me a salve. i'm pretty sure i'm gonna need stitches"

- low-key makes him feel worse

- cause he feels like he's unable to care for you and keep your safe

- even tho this was just an accident

- he's breathing really fast, his anxiety creeping

- agrees anyway, but goes to get them himself

- "i'll be back soon, just keep this piece of cloth pressed against it"

- cause you're bleeding like a lot

- inanna stays behind

- he returns very quickly with julian in tow, though he doesn't look happy about it

- leaves the hut without another word

- julian gets to work immediately

- "so, you cut your foot i see"

- smartass.

- "yeah, muriel always tells me to put on shoes when i walk in the woods but i love to feel the grass beneath my feet"

- julian chuckled at this

- "and i'm assuming you, what, stepped on a rock?"

- "...yeah, sliced it right open"

- after julian is done cleaning up the cut, he tells you to just stay off of it for a while and make sure it doesn't get infected

- once he's gone, muriel trudges back into the hut

- "muriel, baby, it was just a cut it's not a big deal"

- but his eyes look hurt, and you beckon him toward the bed

- "hey," your hands on his cheeks, "i'm okay, really"

- "sorry, i just got scared. blood is still a trigger for me and since you got hurt in my woods, i felt like it was my fault"

- "muriel, of course it wasn't your fault"

- he really needed a hug

- after this instance, he made sure to keep medical supplies in the hut and you promised to try and wear shoes in the woods more often than not

- "i'll try my best to be more careful. deal?"

- sweet lil smile

- "deal."

- "oh my god, y/n, what the hell happened??"

- you were tending the garden

- without her supervision

- and the garden sheers might have sliced into the palm of your hand

- deep

- brings you over to the sink and runs water over the cut, covering it with a towel when the dripping blood had been washed away

- girl is on the move

- cause she knows what to do! love that

- low-key a main reason why julian managed to live as long as he has

- pepi is curiously perched atop one of the counters, peering down

- finds her personal first aid kit she had stashed in the bathroom

- guides you over to sit on the counter while she tries to figure out what to do

- "damn, you really cut yourself, y/n"

- "sorry! i think i just got a little carried away"

- she giggles at that, though she is still worried about the fact that it won't stop bleeding

- gently wraps the cut in gauze and adheres it together

- places a kiss to your fingertips

- "all done! no more gardening for you!"

- "hey, why not?"

- "well you don't want that cut to open back up again and again, do you?"

- "no"

- "alright then," she smiled, moving to put away the first aid kit again, "and we're going up to the palace medical wing first thing tomorrow morning to make sure it's not infected"

- eye roll

- "yes ma'am" you mocked

- even though you know it's just because she loves you

- "but since you got hurt, you want me to bake you some cookies?"

- "only if you let me eat the dough!"

- good god do i love this man

- but he is so self-absorbed it's actually insane

- and I feel like he wouldn't even notice at first

- cause he's too focused on himself

- gazing into the mirror without a care in the world when you walked in

- "y/n, thank goodness you're home, how do you feel about these pants?"

- you just hobbled to the nearest seat, hand resting over the gash on your knee

- mercedes and melchior were lazing across a rug at the base of his mirror, their attention set on you

- "u-um, yeah, they look good"

- literally just trying not to bleed out, over here

- "good? oh really, now, y/n don't they look amazing?"

- "yes, they look ama- ow, damnit"

- then he turned around

- immediate shock and worry! oh no oh no y/n is hurt!

- mercedes and melchior walked over first, whining as they took in the cut, brushing around the edges

- lucio raced over, squatting down in front of you, and began examining the cut

- "hey, hey, what happened?"

- "i accidentally tripped on my walk in the garden and scraped my knee on the cobblestone"

- he was lightly touching around the cut, gauging how sensitive it was

- when you flinched he stopped, looking into your eyes with a soft "sorry"

- "i think i need to go to the palace infirmary"

- "oh there's no need, i can take care of you!"

- you were not convinced he could take care of you, at least not well

- "uh, lucio, are you sure?"

- he looked slightly offended, at that

- "you know, y/n, i did fight in battles at one point. i have not only tended to my own wounds, but the wounds of others, as well"

- you giggled at the thought

- "much to your protest, though, i'm sure"

- he moved to the small cabinet of medical supplies in the ensuite to your bedroom, returning to your side with it in hand

- "at points, but i don't mind helping you in the slightest"

- for all of his antics, his soft side was enough to make you fall in love all over again

- and although i know he would take care of you in literally any situation, i can't say for certainty that he would stick around and place nurse lucio for long if a person had hurt you

- attacked you

- much like nadia, the guards would be sent out without a second thought, lucio leading the pack in the search for you aggressor

#the arcana nadia #the arcana julian #the arcana #the arcana imagines #the arcana headcanons #the arcane game #the arcana lucio #nadia the arcana #the arcana asra #asra the arcana #lucio montag #count lucio #lucio #portia devorak #portia headcanons #muriel the mountain man #muriel x mc #the arcana muriel #muriel

[youbloodymadgenius]

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 1

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello’s masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite, who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310, @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria. Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 1806

Additional note: I'm afraid I'll disappoint some of you. No more newspapers... The articles defined the setting of the story. From now on, it'll be a regular fic.

Hope you enjoy it nevertheless 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

June 2021

Ivar yawns, rubbing his eyes, when he suddenly hears the front door open. The next moment, Ubbe shouts, "Hey baby bro, we're home!"

Slightly confused, Ivar looks at the time on his computer. Stunned, he blinks repeatedly, shakes his head and checks the time again, now looking at his watch. "Guess I lost track of time," he mumbles as he realizes it's really 5:30 pm. He clears his throat. "I'm coming!"

Yawning once more, he wheels to the kitchen. Hvitserk waves at him with one hand as Ubbe greets him with a grin and Sigurd... Well, Sigurd ignores him, as usual.

"Hello boys!" Lagertha smiles as she also enters the kitchen. "Did you go to the beach this afternoon?" It's a rethorical question, since sand can be seen on the tanned skin of his brothers, shirtless and wearing only swimming shorts.

When she looks down at him, her smile becomes softer. "Ivar, you seem tired. Did you work all day long?"

He nods, glad that for once she called him by his first name and not by one of those stupid nicknames that she likes but that make his skin crawl.

"Yep," he shrugs without smiling back, "I made good progress. The new version of your website is almost done. It could probably be online by the end of the week."

His stepmom flashes him a beaming smile. "Great, thanks!"

The conversation then moves on to the subject that everyone in Kattegat has been talking about for the last few days: the midsummer party thrown by their neighbor Harald Hårfager. Every June, it is Kattegat's not-to-be-missed event, to which every resident hopes to be invited.

Lagertha is invited every year, yet rarely attends; his brothers wouldn't miss it, not in a million years; Ivar never went.

He listens with half an ear as his brothers prattle on about the upcoming party, while taking a seat at the large, wooden kitchen table on which Lagertha has just put cakes and drinks.

"What are you going to wear?"

"Do you think Marit will attend this year?"

"Hopefully the music will be better than last year."

"Can't be as bad! What was the name of that reggae band?"

For a fleeting moment, Ivar entertains the thought of attending as well. Not that he's dying to, but… Sometimes, he feels a little bit like Cinderella in this house.

Don't get him wrong, it's not that bad.

First, his stepmom is not–

Wait, wait, wait, is Lagertha technically his stepmom? He's not sure. After all, she wasn't when his parents were alive, she was just his father's first wife. Anyway, she may be his guardian now, but he sees her as his stepmom and he honestly doesn’t give a shit if it's a little weird.

Where was he? Oh yes, Cinderella.

So obviously, Lagertha is not a wicked, haughty and abusive stepmom like this Lady Tremaine of the fairytale.

Actually, even if it pisses him off to admit it, she's pretty nice, patient and composed. Does he love her? Let's not exaggerate – he doesn't. She may love him though, which is a little bit uncanny, if he's being honest. He was the favorite son of her nemesis. Shouldn't she hate him? He would, if the situation was reversed.

The truth is, when he was younger, he tried, he really tried to hate her, blaming her for everything and anything. When too much pain prevented him from sleeping, he let his imagination run wild. There, bound to his bed of suffering, he could see Lagertha cutting the brakes on his mother's car, causing her crash, causing her death.

Of course, even then, he knew deep down that Lagertha had not killed his mother; that the story he told himself was just the product of his endless nights of insomnia. But what can he say? He needed this. Because blaming Lagertha rather than admitting that his beloved mother was at fault – by being distracted, or by falling asleep, he'll never know – was easier for the heartbroken boy he was.

Anyway... So yes, Lagertha is definitely not an evil stepmother like Cinderella's.

Also, he doesn't sleep on a sorry garret, on a wretched straw bed either.

Actually, he has a very large room on the main floor, with a king-size memory foam bed, a walk-in – well, a wheel-in for his case – closet and his own, huge bathroom, fully equipped for his special needs.

Sure, the bathroom and the dressing room were already there when his parents were alive; however, the memory foam mattress had been Lagertha's idea.

Anyway... So yes, he can't exactly complain about his sleeping conditions, unlike Cinderella.

And obviously, he's not forced into servitude.

Actually, one might think so, but no, he's not. Sure, sometimes he works for his stepmom, like today. But so do his brothers. When she had taken them in, she was a powerful businesswoman, working twelve to fourteen hours a day. Once she had become their guardian, she had rearranged her working time and learned to delegate; but even so, she had often run out of time. Therefore, it had seemed normal to them – yes, even to him – to help her out, each of them according to their skills and abilities.

So, while Hvitserk almost always does the grocery shopping, while Sigurd vacuums and does the laundry, while Ubbe mows the lawn and trim the bushes, he, Ivar, runs her company's website and sometimes even does the accounting. And since he loves computers and numbers, it's not exactly a problem.

Anyway... So yes, he's not a slave in this house. Unlike Cinderella.

So, yes, to sum it up, he can't really complain and he's by far not Cinderella. And he knows it.

But... Yes, there's a but...

Sometimes, he feels trapped, as poor Cinderella must have felt.

Sometimes he feels like a spectator of a life he doesn't belong to.

Sure, he doesn't have to be homeschooled – but gods, he's glad he is. The reasons for him to be continuously bullied by classmates are endless. The simplest ones being: he is a cripple, an orphan, the son of a dead mob boss, the smartest one in the whole damn school, let alone his class. Take your pick. It's no fun, no fun at all. Being home alone is preferable to that alternative.

Therefore, barely leaving the house except for medical appointments, he has no friends. He doesn't do sports either – obviously – and yeah, he lives a lonely life, filled with video games and Netflix series. And he's okay with that. Well, most of the time.

Sure, his brothers, or at least Ubbe and Hvitserk, always try to include him as much as possible. But the truth is that because of his legs, there are many, many things he just can't do.

And the other truth, the less pleasant one, is that he partially did that to himself. He cut himself off from a world that hurt him, yet he still misses this world sometimes. At times, he blames himself. Because his life, honestly, is hardly what you would call a life, is it? Not when you're sixteen.

That's why sometimes, like now, he feels this longing, almost a need, to live. To really, truly, fully live. And that's why, for a brief moment, lulled by the light chitchat of his brothers, he considers attending Harald's midsummer party.

But he knows better. This life is not for him, never has been, never will be.

And so, shaking his head, he chases the thought away and, placing his hands on his push rims, he's about to leave the kitchen while the incessant babbling of his brothers goes on.

"I can't wait."

"Don't tell me! As every year, the most beautiful girls of Kattegat will be there."

"Remember that burger food truck? Best burgers ever!"

"I've heard Y/N would be attending this year."

"There'll be booze and girls! Sounds like Valh–"

Wait. His mind goes blank.

Fuck.

What? Did he hear right?

As he replays his brother's words in his head, it's like there's an earthquake happening inside of him.

Fuck.

He stops breathing. Blinks, then clamps his eyes shut.

Fuck.

When he finally manages to draw air into his lungs, he swallows loudly before asking in a weird, high-pitched voice, his heart pounding in his chest, "What– What did you say, brother?"

Hvitserk turns his head toward him and shrugs. "I just said there'll be boo–"

"No, not you!" Ivar snaps at his brother, pointing his pointer finger at Ubbe. "You, what did you fucking say?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Lagertha frowning – 'no curse words in this house, boys'– and even if he barely contains an eye roll, he still mouths a quick 'sorry' at her before rewording his question, impatience coursing through him. "What did you say, dear brother? Who did you say would attend?"

Stunned, Ubbe looks at him with wide eyes. "Y/N? I said Y/N would come. That's what I heard anyway. She's Harald's niece. She was here once, right? Remember her, baby bro, huh?"

But Ivar is no longer listening, the blood draining from his face. Y/N... Y/N... Fuck. Finally. Fucking finally. After so long... He may see you again. Wow.

I'll go! I'll fucking go!

He barely contains the words, suddenly acutely aware of the deafening silence in the room, his brothers shamelessly staring at him.

With her brows furrowed and her lips turned downward in a slight frown, Lagertha takes two steps forwards before crouching down in front of him. "Are you all right, sweetie? You're a little pale."

He barely hears when Sigurd giggles, "A little pale? He's greener than an alien!"

Lagertha shoots Sigurd a dirty look and then gently cups Ivar's cheek. "Do you know her, Ivar? Do you know Y/N?"

Overwhelmed, self-conscious, freaked out, caught off-guard, he doesn't know how to respond. Should he tell the truth? Should he lie? His brothers will mock him, for sure. What is the point of telling the truth? What good would it do? On the other hand, he could really use some advice. Yeah. Sure. Advice from Sigurd. Just the thought of it is enough to make him sick. Fuck, what is he going to do?

Rushed words are out of his mouth before he can even gather his thoughts. "No. No. I don't. I mean, yes, I think I do but–" He's being pathetic and he hates it. So after a sharp intake of breath, he shakes his head and eventually replies in a flat, calm voice, the white lie rolling off his tongue. "I know her, but I thought Ubbe was talking about someone else. Sorry."

With these words, he hastily leaves the room, his eyes riveted on his knees, his heart still drumming in his chest.

Y/N. Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom

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#ivar #modern ivar #modern!ivar #modern-ivar #modern ivar x reader #modern!ivar x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar imagine #ivar fic #ivar fanfic #ivar fanfiction #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #cherrypie’s500 #fairytale retelling #ivarello

[deltas-writing-corner]

Courtship (4): The Gargoyle Graveyard

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland (Malleus x GN!reader)

Author note: Again, thank you all for being patient with me and I apologize for having a very inconsistent writing schedule. I'm going to make it my goal to update on a bi weekly basis instead of leaving you all in silent limbo. Also a reminder I suck at figuring out which warnings to put so if there's something that needs to be forewarned that I failed to disclose please lmk!

Warnings: Mentions of heavy bodily injuries | childhood trauma/neglect | discussions/mentions of discrimination | mentions of virginity/sexual history

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AO3 version

Clay. Stone. Porcelain. Plaster. Metal. There are even gargoyles carved entirely of wood! Some statues are stand-alone works of art while others are part of a clear collection or series of similar inspiration. They even come in all sorts of shapes and sizes; as small as an apple or a towering height to rival Malleus himself. No matter what, each grotesque has been crafted with the utmost consideration, by well seasoned and knowing hands. Even the ones that have clear defects and cannot serve their intended purpose are free of overabundant ivy, weeds, or dust. There’s a clear degree of love and care the family who makes these statues has for their craft that makes him feel less alone in his interest in an uncherished form of art.

“It should be around here somewhere,” you muse aloud. Ever since he expressed interest in seeing more sculptures made with non-traditional materials, you’ve been keeping your eye out for a particular one that would fulfill his yearning. You eventually find it and eagerly point to it. “There it is!”

Malleus watches as you approach a massive-sized statue covered with a thick and half-wet tarp. He helps you remove the cover, revealing a winged and slightly humanoid canine. There are many more grotesques with a similar design, but what makes this one stand out the most is the material it’s made out of.

“Amazing!” Malleus awes. “I’ve never seen a grotesque of this size made entirely of glass! They’ve even managed to maintain their attention to detail despite such an abnormal material choice.”

“You can even see the inner channel where the water would flow in and redirect out of its mouth,” you notice.

“They even went out of their way to make it functional despite it being unfit for actual installation?” Malleus inquires with disbelief. “Such a shame.”

“If you’re looking to buy anything here, I’m afraid it's a lost cause. One of the first warnings the grandfather gave me is that none of these are for sale.”

“What was his second warning?”

“If we damage anything, even as small as a scratch, he’ll kill us.”

“How charming,” he chuckles. “I cannot blame him. These statues must take weeks to complete. Time is a human’s greatest enemy.”

“For some, sure. But when I went to visit the family and talked to the old man, he was lunging around all this heavy equipment like he was still in his prime,” you recall. “He lives for his craft. If there’s anything humans are at risk of their entire lives, it’s a lack of motivation and reason to live.”

“I suppose that’s true, but the lifespan of humans and the inevitable effects of aging is difficult to live with, especially once it begins to hinder one’s ability to do what one could previously do without issue. ”

“You’re not wrong,” you acknowledge. “But I think I’d rather live a short life with fulfillment than a dull, long-as-shit life.”

To show that he’s entirely on your side, Gunter lets out a guttural bark while his tail rapidly wags and thumps the damp ground, coating the ends of his bushy tail in specs of dirt and dirtied, remnant snow of the north that has managed to stay frozen on the isles warmer south end.

“You’re only agreeing with them because you’ve been promised food,” Malleus chastises. “Don’t think I didn’t pick up on your grumbling stomach.”

“And don't think I didn't pick up on your stomach rumbling either your highness," you quip back at him. "The family has a small cottage nearby we can use. We'll settle down for a bit and eat before sightseeing some more."

Before you turn and walk in the direction towards the aforementioned lodgings, you reach your hand out for Malleus to take and he latches onto you with restrained enthusiasm. He's taller than you, but he takes care not to take his normal strides as to not leave you struggling to keep up with him. Gunter doesn't know the way, so he trots beside you every step of the way up until the destination is in plain view. The cottage is small but well-attended. There’s a rustic flair to its construction that makes it feel familiar and safe despite never stepping foot in it before.

"Those gargoyles were something, huh?" you remark to him while you tap and shake off the gunk wedged into the soles of your heavy boots against the frame of the door.

"Indeed," he nods, taking your cloak off for you and hanging it on the wooden rack nearby. "I don't think I've ever seen that many gargoyles in one day. Just when my eyes land upon an intriguing one, there's several more that catch my attention."

The way he gets all wide-eyed is outright adorable. It makes you grin just as enthusiastically too. "I bet your club is going to have a field day once you tell them about this!"

His child-like smile turns into one of disappointment. "I'm certain they would, if I wasn't the sole member that is."

Your hands halt from pulling out and setting down all the premade food out of your pack. "Seriously? You're the only one?"

When he nods his head, you feel a twinge of hurt in your heart. Poor guy. You can only imagine how disappointing it must be to go through all those lengths to start a club (you would know since you're technically a staff member of the school and have been given a rundown on some of the school's functions and regulations) only for no one to show interest. Of course, you completely understand that gargoyles aren't exactly all the rage within the minds of teenage boys. Still! He goes through so much effort to build relationships with his peers but they always cower away, either due to his status or even because of the way he looks. You won’t deny that he does come off as rather intimidating at first glance, but he's a sweet guy once you give him the chance to speak.

But to expect teenagers going through social pressures and demanding academics to be as understanding and willing to understand someone like Malleus is an impossible demand. Given that everyone in the school can be a bunch of self-centered and easily agitated bunch of pricks, it's understandable that most of the student body isn't keen on trying to take into consideration the proper etiquette one needs to consider in the presence of a young and noble fae. Deuce has met and talked briefly with Malleus on one occasion, but even he visibly shakes whenever his name is mentioned, even in casual passing.

Wait until they found out who you've gone and gotten buddy-buddy with behind their back. They probably think they're slick or that their intentions are well swept under the rug, but it's clear they feel some semblance of responsibility for your well-being, as both a magicless individual as well as a close, albeit older, friend. You dread the day people begin to make the connections between Malleus and you, but you still can’t help but wonder what their reactions might be. You also dread the high probability those two idiots are going to find out and embarrass the living hell out of you, which you know you do not have the patience or tolerance for.

Gunter jumps up and sits himself down in one of the wooden dining chairs, pushing the small ceramic plate towards you with his nose, as if telling you "Alright, I’ve done what I said I'd do, now feed me what I'm owed." You tell him that you'll give him what he's well earned after you get a small fire started in the brick fireplace. Just because it's warmer near the southern half of the island and not as heavily blanketed with snow, doesn't mean the cold has completely vanished, Winter is still winter after all.

"Where did these scars come from?"

Malleus' unexpected question and closeness nearly make you drop the iron rod you've been using to stoke the growing fire. You've since taken off your boots and rolled up the bottoms of your pants just above your knee as the room starts to warm up enough for a thin layer of perspiration to accumulate and roll down your skin. The scars he's referring to are the ones on your right leg, both side by side at an awkward angle and discolored. You have a lot more scars than these, some much more gruesome in appearance than these two. Malleus has never asked about your scars, but sometimes you catch him looking in the general area of some that peak through your clothes. He likely keeps quiet about their existence out of courtesy.

Yet out of all the markings on your body, why did these two stand out enough that he'd finally ask about them?

"It's a long story," you say in an effort to stall the topic. "Sit. I'll feed you two once the fire is stable."

He doesn’t push you for an answer, instead simply doing as you say and lets you poke at the burning logs until they're properly aflame on their own. You made mostly some of your morning favorites; Creamy and thick potato stew with diced carrots and peas and some eggs, ham, and crispy hash browns sandwich between homemade halved croissants. You teased him about having picky taste buds earlier, but Malleus is content to eat anything you serve him so long as it is not comparable to the likes of Lilia's atrocious cooking.

(Seriously, how does a man as old as Lilia not know the basic fundamentals of cooking? And why does everything he makes end up burnt and tasting like something rotten? You will never understand.)

"Don't eat too quickly," you warn Gunter as you pour a bit of light-colored soup onto his designated plate. Your words are ignored, as the equally marred wolf sloppily slurps and munches on the few bits of potatoes and vegetables you generously scraped out of the thermos. His food is gone as quickly as it’s put in front of him and he looks at you expecting more.

"No. The rest is mine," you scold. "And don't beg Malleus for some either! I know you do it behind my back, you little shit!"

He turns to look at Malleus with an accusatory glare, thinking that he ratted him out to you. Malleus’s response towards the silent imputation is to turn and look out the window as if something caught his interest all of a sudden, cup raised to his lips as he politely sips away at his meal without an air of calmness. You have to slap a hand over your mouth to hide the amusement that overtakes your senses.

"Malleus, stop that!"

"Stop what?" he innocently asks.

"Stop making me want to laugh!"

He sets his cup down onto its matching serving dish. "It's not my fault you have an easily satiable sense of humor."

"Wow!" you say incredulously and put your arms up in offense. "And here I was thinking we were friends!"

His distant demeanor breaks and you both devolve into a fit of laughter together. Gunter unfortunately takes advantage of your joint distraction and slips away with a warm sandwich between his jaw, your sandwich in particular.

"That damn wolf!" you curse. "I knew I should have trusted my gut and pack extras.”

Malleus pities your distress before moving over to sit closer. "Worry not. I'll split mine in half with you,” he reassures.

"No, it's fine," you immediately dismiss his offer. "Have it for yourself."

"I'm not taking no for an answer," he firmly states. “Don’t be stubborn. It’s far too early for that.”

"I thought you liked it when I was stubborn?” you pout.

He shakes his head with a smile. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t”

"At least someone likes my attitude,” you say after chewing and swallowing a mouthful of soup. “Sebek certainly doesn’t."

"The boy is stubborn as well. When two equally stubborn individuals cross paths, you will witness nothing but discord between the two."

"Add the fact I'm human into the mix, and we'll be exchanging fists instead of words sooner or later," you scoff. "I get that some faes don't like humans, but what's his deal with acting like he’s got a vendetta against me?"

"Sebek doesn't hate humans for the reasons you might think," Malleus admits. "It’s more like he finds them difficult to think that highly of. Did you know that he is half-human?"

You nearly choke on your own breath over the sudden revelation. "Really?"

"Indeed," Malleus finds amusement at your disbelief. "Have you ever wondered why his ears aren't pointed like Silver, but his eyes are like mine and Lilia’s?"

"Damn,” you scratch the back of your head with embarrassment. “Now I feel stupid.”

"You aren't. Given the way he speaks, not many would assume he had human blood in his veins. His mother was highly regarded within her social circle, but her marriage to a human man tarnished her reputation a great deal. She's happy and does not seem to care what others think of her these days. However, when Sebek set out to be a knight, his mother's marriage and his lineage were often brought up as a way to scrutinize his character and capabilities rather than any of his actual shortcomings as an individual."

"Poor kid," you sigh. "Lilia told me those sorts of things still happen in The Valley, but it sounds so outlandish that I couldn’t take it that seriously."

"Many faes hold old traditions above all else, to a degree that the purity of one's blood stands above all other merits." His eyebrows pressed together in annoyance. "Even my grandmother thinks it's archaic, but as the reigning queen she has to embody a persona of neutrality between the social divide."

"It sounds like you have your work cut out for you in the future," you say, almost apologetically. "What do you plan to do about it once you're the king?"

There's a brief flash of surprise over your question, but Malleus easily answers it as usual. "I think my first course of action as king would be to properly knight Sebek and Silver."

"Bet my rifle that Sebek is going to cry the entire ceremony!" you remark with certainty. "That's all he ever goes on about, being a knight and all."

"He's devoted countless hours and efforts since he was a child. If there's anyone who deserves to join the knighthood, it's him."

"Definitely," you nod to further cement your agreement with him. "He could stand to lower his voice a bit. He'll give you tinnitus before long.”

"At least we won't have to worry about losing him in a crowd," Malleus jests.

"That's to say we'll lose sight of him to begin with," you remark. "He'll gladly lose me in a crowd. You? You'd be lucky to get out of arm's length."

"You underestimate me, dearest," Malleus smirks. "Ever since I've met you, I've perfected the art of avoiding Sebek's insistent searches."

"Have you now?" you razz back. "Don't let him catch onto the fact. He'll have my head."

He reaches over and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. Each second his skin touches yours makes you tingle. Time slows down ever so briefly if only to savor the small instance of physical connection for as long as possible. "What of your aunts?" he inquires. "Are they as overprotective of you as Sebek is of myself?"

"They’re a trio of mama bears," you proudly admit. "I'm old enough to drink and well equipped to fend for myself, but in their minds, I'll always be the little tyke that couldn't even eat their meals without looking at them for approval. Especially my aunt Gia."

You have three aunts. There's your aunt Marisol, the mother of most of your cousins and the main caretaker of the household. Your second aunt Lucia was well into her studies at university when you came to live with them, but her stress and long hours of mulling over her course materials paid off in the long run. Your gardening skills wouldn't be what they are now without her expertise in agricultural botany.

Then there's your aunt Gia. Oldest of the three. An absolute tank of a woman. No spouse. No kids of her own. She lived off the land like an absolute titan. The woman raised you as if she was the one that carried you for nine months and not your actual birth mother.

How would you describe your parents? If your parents were told to list out their priorities in life, their careers would be at the top of the list and you would be put at the very bottom. Why they carried you to term is beyond your understanding. You later learned that Gia had even offered to take you under her care well before your birth, knowing that your parents might not be well-suited to take care of you in the way she thinks would be beneficial for you. It was a convenient offer that would have saved everyone the trouble years down the line when you had your accident. They worked in a cutthroat industry and were constantly moving up the executive echelons. They had no time for you, yet their pride as a pair of young, successful business magnates made them incapable of seeing past the reality of the situation. That left you mostly in the care of last-minute caretakers and your aunts, but only if they had time from their own busy and preoccupied lives to come out into the city and visit.

You were eight years old when things started to get better, but it was upstarted in the worst possible way. Your parents had to go away for the upcoming weekend for work and left you in the care of a babysitter as per the norm. The babysitter never showed up however and your parents apparently couldn’t be bothered to check up on you even once the entire trip. Their silence wasn’t surprising. You just went on about your business for the next three days on your own like nothing was wrong. Your aunt Gia had even called at one point to check up on you, but you didn’t bother to tell her that your parents had left you to fend for yourself. She would have exploded if you did, but not as much as she did when you woke up in the hospital after falling down the stairs and lying helplessly on the ground for several hours with a dislocated shoulder and a compound-fractured leg. You were lulling in and out of consciousness due to all the medication pumped into you, but what little you do remember seeing and hearing when you regained consciousness will forever stick with you for the rest of your life.

If people think your level of swearing is bad, they should have heard your aunt that day. She swore so viciously that it could set an innocent bystander's eardrums on fire. What will forever stand out the most to you was the fact that your parents didn’t even look the least bit apologetic or regretful. They didn’t even approach you once your aunt was done giving them a piece of her mind to check up on you. They simply talked with the awaiting social worker and doctors and then left. It was for the better, but the small part of you that continued to hold onto the desperate belief that your parents would come around one day sent you into a thrashing frenzy and you had to be sedated before you could hurt yourself anymore.

The next year was spent recovering from your injuries, meeting regularly with your caseworker, and going through therapists like a pack of cigarettes. By the time you were back on your feet and the legal proceedings of your custody case were concluded, all you wanted was to move on with it all. Nearly a decade of neglect left you this unattentive, uncertain husk of a person who couldn’t take a single step forward without looking for some sort of guidance or assurance. Your family was exhausted by the entire ordeal and over speaking with third parties. Your aunts took it upon themselves to help you regain your sense of self in the comfort of your new home, no matter how difficult or demanding it was going to be.

“It took some time, but eventually it clicked in my mind that I was in a better place and I started to get better. As for my parents, I have no clue what they’re up to these days.” You lean back into your chair and let out a shaking yawn. “I like to think they’re getting on well like I am.”

“I don’t understand.” Malleus looks at you with unbelievable confusion. “Your parents treated you poorly, yet you don’t sound the least bit resentful. Why is that?”

You shrug your shoulders. “What’s the point? I'm in a better place now, so I've let bygones be bygones. 'Doesn't mean I don't harbor any anger against them anymore. I do, but getting upset won't change what's happened to me."

Gunter, having sensed your discomfort over the matter, trots over and rests his head on your lap. You gratefully rub the top of his head, carding your hands through his thick, coarse hair. "I'm just glad they let me go without a fuss. Family court was hell for my family.” Your eyebrows knit together. “Expensive too.”

Crackling wood fills the momentary silence that befalls the small cottage. What you've recollected to Malleus is a lot to take in, and if you're being quite honest you'd prefer if he just dropped the subject and talked about literally anything else right now. You hope he doesn't say he's sorry or any other type of apologetic comment. That's all you were ever told that entire year it all happened, during court proceedings, your rehabilitation, by both strangers and distant family members alike.

"I'm so sorry. What happened to you was unfortunate. You didn't deserve it."

No shit you didn't deserve any of that. You were a kid. You don’t need one pity party after another to realize that what took place then had fucked you forever. But as you said earlier, you're in a better place now, with a loving and supportive family that's moved on alongside you. A family you need to get back to as soon as possible.

"I love you."

Well, if he was hoping to take your mind off the past. that certainly did it. How can it not? It came out of nowhere and as good as you are at holding your composure when need be, you're sure you look no less like a gaping fish when warm and plush softness presses right against the corner of your lips. A kiss. His kiss.

"What's wrong?" Your voice sounds shaky. You’re nervous.

"Nothing," he smiles reassuringly. "I simply said what I felt needed to be said."

"Fair enough" you concede easily. He was going to say it sooner or later. He already has actually, now that you think about it. Yet here you are trying to process his words like it’s rocket science.

"Am I going about this too fast perhaps?" he genuinely asks. His hands that have been busy massaging your calves that have settled across his lap somewhere during your long retelling gradually slow down, but his hands never go completely still. "This is my first time experiencing something like this."

"What?" You sit up a bit straighter. "A relationship?"

"Yes."

Your head tilts to the side. "Really?"

He nods hesitantly "Yes?"

For a moment, you go completely quiet. "I don't believe you,” you doubtfully say, head shaking to further showcase your refusal to believe him.

He must not have liked your remark, frowning with clear offense in his eyes. When he dislikes something, the vertical slits in his eyes contract into a thin line. "I cannot lie, yet you still doubt me?"

"I know you can't lie, but I find it hard to believe you haven't been with anyone else before," you explain. Before you can consider the appropriateness that was your newfound curiosity about Malleus's apparently non-existent love life, you blurt out, "Are you still a virgin?"

You slap your hand over your mouth the moment those words come out of it. He's equally caught off guard and nearly drops his warm cup of coffee. Even Gunter is surprised by your question, olive-colored eyes looking at you as if you've lost your mind. It's an invasive question, inappropriate even. You and Malleus have been dating for a little over two days. A question like that is way too early to bring up just yet.

"You don't have to answer that," you tell him behind your palm. "I shouldn't have even asked it. Forget I ever brought it up-”

"I'm not," he interrupts you, leaving you even more shocked than you already are. You’re practically gaping like a fish by now. "I'm not a virgin,” he further insinuates.

A deafening silence, but it’s eventually broken by yourself. “I still don’t believe you.”

Malleus gets further annoyed at your refusal to accept his truth. "I'm not lying!" he insists.

"Bullshit!"

"Do you want me to recount my history to you?" he asks, exasperated as you are at the shift the conversation is taking. "Will that satisfy your doubts?"

"You know what? It will!" you loudly declare. "Who'd you sleep with?"

"He was a young page at the time,” he reminisced. “It happened before I was a century old.”

Your eyebrows raise with intrigue. "Was he cute?"

"Yes," he hushedly agrees. The disconcerting admittance paints his face a pinkish-red glow. "But that's not why I bedded him."

"But surely his looks are what made you interested in the first place?” you make blatant regard of the fact.

“You’re not wrong,” he acknowledges, expertly avoiding agreeing with you outright. “But his looks aren't the sole reason I was drawn to him. He was bright-eyed and ambitious, to the point you’d think him insane given his position in the court. It was also the first time I ever truly met with a group of humans, and my young mind was eager to get a more accurate perspective of humans that wasn’t through the lens of my tutors.”

“An ‘accurate perspective’?” You make playful air quotes, eyebrows wiggling because you know the fact that he knows what you’re implying. The playful comment is met with a sharp pinch on your leg that makes you jump and shriek out in pain. Did he have to dig his nails into you? Apparently so, and now you have small crescent indents on your skin. “I bet Lilia had a good laugh when he found out.”

“He doesn’t know, actually,” he admits to you with what is obviously a proud smile.

“Now I know you’re lying to me,” you scoff. “Nothing escapes the old man’s radar.”

His hands begin to rub out the marks he’s left on you as a form of apology. “Lilia is sharp, but he had lost most of his vigor by the time I was born.”

You go wide-eyed again. “You mean his hearing and eyesight was better than it is now?”

He nods affirmatively. “From what I’ve been told, terrifyingly so.”

Lilia is already frightening as is. His short stature and boyish looks make him perfectly unassuming to those who don’t know any better. You once watched him beat up a couple of bulky, twice-his-height students from Savanaclaw without breaking a sweat, yet moments before he was jokingly scolding himself for dozing off so easily. You never once thought he was ever out of his elements. A cold chill runs down your spine thinking how much more perceptive the older fae may have been back during his prime years.

“Wonder what Lilia’s gonna think,” you ponder out loud in a quick effort to banish out the skin-prickling mental imagery your mind was invoking. “About us, I mean.”

Malleus seems surprised that you would change the topic to that of all things, but his initial shock goes away as quickly as it came. “As you may have guessed, he’s an open-minded individual, but he’s also very realistic and unafraid to say what’s on his mind.”

“So what does that mean for you and me?” you question with a bit of hesitation.

“Well,” he trails off and ponders for a moment. “He’ll surely like the scandal our relationship would invoke. However, as my caretaker and mentor, he won’t hesitate to put an end to it if he feels it necessary.”

Had it been anyone else sitting beside you, you’d have found that comment way too extreme and outright ridiculous. However, you are not speaking to anyone ordinary. You are not sitting before someone normal. It doesn't matter how well you get along with him. It sure as hell doesn't matter how deeply in love you are with him, and him of you. The moment you have been deemed a shortcoming, the outings, the closeness, it all stops. All of it will come crashing down and both you and him will be left wondering what could have been done differently.

Malleus is truly your best friend, because already he can tell that your mind is beginning to spiral even when you go quiet. He calls for your attention by gripping his hand around your bare ankle and carefully tugging the end of your limb. “Don’t fret over it too much,” he soothes, yet also sounding like he’s scolding you for letting your mind wander off so negatively. “Lilia is an exceptional judge of character. From what I’ve gathered, you’ve well exceeded all his marks. He trusts you, and to gain such a thing from someone as old and wise as him is an extraordinary feat.”

You brew over the attempted compliment he tried to pay to you. Unfortunately, it doesn’t snub out all these festering thoughts in your head. It doesn’t even give you temporary relief. Perhaps it would have brought you a sense of peace a few months ago, but with everything that has happened thus far, you doubt even Malleus can alleviate the storm that rattles inside you, even if what he speaks is without a doubt nothing but the truth.

Surely he can see that you are still having some hangups. When you lift his hand and plant a chaste kiss on the back of his hand, you hope he can decipher the gesture as a pitiful request for his forgiveness for dampening the once energetic mood. He is not at fault for your loss and inability to think optimistically at the moment and you need to make sure he knows it.

Today is about him, not you. Even if it’s just for today, you’ll put on a pleasant facade and worry about the rest at a later date. It’s just you and him, and for now, that’s enough.

You do a mental countdown starting from three, before finally giving him a late response to the three words he uttered in confidence to you earlier. “I love you too, by the way.”

You love him. You love him. You love him. That’s all his mind can think of for the rest of the day. He replays your reciprocation over and over like it’s sacred and all-powerful.

He had planned to return to his dorm before the sun began to set, but he found the mere idea of detaching from you deeply unwanted and made the last-minute decision to spend the evening at the Ramshackle dorm. He already has a few articles of clothing and personal essentials set up in one of the many empty rooms, so neither Lilia nor you had any objections at his sudden request.

“Don’t worry!” You shout across the room so that Lilia can hear you over his phone. “I’ll make sure he gets to bed on time!”

“You have my gratitude!” Lilia’s muffled voice responds gratefully. “Don’t cause too much trouble now, you two.”

“No promises~” you sing in jest before Malleus hangs up. Once the call ends Johnny, Benji, Franky, and you turn their attention back to their ongoing game of poker. Malleus watches and occasionally laughs to himself over the friendly banter shared between the quartet. At the end of every round, the winner is assaulted with colorful profanities whilst they take their newly won gambling chips with ebullience. Yet with each new dealing of cards, the animosity goes away and they’re all back to being friendly. He finds your interactions with your incorporeal roommates more entertaining than the book he’s been reading to pass the time.

“Hey, fairy boy,” Franky informally calls out toward him. “Don’t be a stranger now. Play a few rounds with us.”

“I’m afraid I’m not well versed in card games,” he admits, yet he still finds himself setting his literature aside and moving over to join them.

“Don’t worry,” you give him a reassuring smile. “They’ll go easy on you.”

“For how long?” he knowingly asks.

You give him an impressed smirk at his quick uptake. “I give it three rounds before they start to pull back their sleeves.”

Malleus is well-adjusted to the need to quickly learn a new topic and the expectation for him to fully comprehend it in full. None of them are harsh on him for his minor mistakes like some of the tutors he’s had in the past. Answers that he believes may be obvious or not as complicated as he thinks they are being answered with enthusiastic patience. The smallest achievements he makes are met with a proud response. When he makes a surprise turnabout and wins his first game, he’s rewarded with an encouraging round of applause by everyone.

“Not bad,” Benji praises as he shuffles the deck of cards. “You’re a fast learner.”

“So I’ve been told,” he humbly replies. “Is this the part where you all stop going easy on me now?”

“Don’t provoke them,” you half-heartedly warn. “Otherwise we’ll be up all night duking it out otherwise.”

Franky sets his glass of iced liquor down on the edge of the table. “Don’t you little lovebirds worry. We won’t take up too much of your well-needed time together.”

Annoyed at the clear jab at his relationship with you, you throw one of your chips towards his head. It passes through his body and clatters on the floor behind him. Your fawn Blossom jumps down from their spot on the couch and goes to sniff it, thinking it to be food, but walks away with a disappointed strut when he realizes it isn’t anything edible.

“I didn’t tell them a damn thing,” you defensively clarify. “It was so obvious what was going on between us that they figured it all out before we made it official.”

He lets out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “That’s...I can’t say I’m too pleased to hear about that.”

“We won’t say anything,” Franky reassures. “Just make sure to put a sock on the door whenever you guys want some alone time.”

“Franky!” you hiss at him. “What the hell?!”

“What?” he looks at you, unbothered by your clear embarrassment. “Do you honestly expect us to think you guys went out just to look at a bunch of statues?”

“Oh, I’m sure they were looking at something,” Johnny smirks. “It wasn’t made of stone though.”

“I hate you guys,” you growl out, arms crossing and leaning back into your seat with an angry huff. You don’t mean it. He can see the tremble of your lips as you try to contain the urge to grin. “Even if we did end up rolling around in the sheets, I wouldn’t be yapping about it for all to hear, much less you guys!”

“What happens in the gargoyle graveyard stays in the gargoyle graveyard, eh?” Franky winks at both Malleus and you, nudging you with his elbow.

“Exactly!” you affirm, batting the large ghost away from you for some much-needed distance. “Now stop being so damn nosy.”

They cackle one last time and everyone seamlessly goes back to their ongoing game. Conversations like the one that just concluded are commonplace in your dormitory. Even if he contributed next to nothing to the discussion, he enjoys watching them interact. You come from a world where ghosts are hardly as overt as the ones in this world. Ghosts are said to entertain themselves by picking on the living, to the point that it can be fatal. Your ability to come up with witticisms at a moment's notice is something he enjoys seeing in action. He feels great satisfaction not only knowing that he has secured your love but to also see you in a state of tranquility and within your elements.

As Benji and you have a hushed conversation on the sidelines, he reaches over and places his hand on your knee beneath the table. You quietly reach over and put your hand over his, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb like it’s instinctual. Unfortunately, the heart-fluttering moment is ruined by the sudden buzzing of his phone. He has half a mind to ignore it, but when he gives the screen a glance he realizes ignoring the caller is not an option.

“I’ll be out for a moment,” he excuses himself once he sets his hand down and stands himself upright. “This shouldn’t take that long, hopefully.”

They all stop to look up at him inquisitively for half a second. In unison, they ask, “Sebek?”

“Sebek,” he affirms.

There are simultaneous displays of annoyance, pity, and silent wishes of good luck directed at him. He’s tempted to ask where all this contempt for the boy comes from, but then he remembers the many times Sebek barges his way into their dorm at the worst possible moments. It is either when everyone is beginning to settle down after a long day or in the middle of an important house project, the former more so than the latter now that the dorm is much more stable and in need of less restoration. Malleus learned the hard way how ill you and the ghosts will react when your peace is unwantedly interrupted and your space invaded by an unwanted guest.

Sebek is also quick to scrutinize whatever he sees out loud without a filter. You never seem to mind half of the time, merely rolling your eyes and moving past Sebek’s ill-meaning remarks as if you never heard them. As you are someone Malleus highly regards and holds close to his bosom, he hopes Sebek can one day set aside his strife with humankind and give you the due diligence you deserve.

...Though, he completely understands that reaching that point will take time. While you can endure Sebek to a certain degree, there are times where he, unfortunately, pushes you past that threshold and, without flinching, you will tell him to “Shut the fuck up”. Your words, not his.

“Young master!” Sebek's transmitted voice peaks and he has to half pull it away to give his pained eardrums some relief. “I was informed by Lord Lilia that you will be spending the night over at the Human’s dorm. Have you all your accommodations at their estate? If not, I will swiftly-”

“That won’t be necessary,” he half laughs at his enthusiasm over such a small task. “I have enough to keep me comfortable and well for a few days. Your offer is still very much appreciated.”

“Y-Yes, of course,” he stutters. “If there’s anything you should ever find a need for, please inform me at once! I will fulfill your every wishes no matter the hour!”

He’s enthusiastic and ready to act at a moment’s notice, even during the middle of a cold and dark hour. Malleus doesn’t necessarily dislike this part of Sebek, but he’s starting to understand why someone like you would find such subservience difficult to deal with. At any moment, Malleus could ask Sebek to grab some insignificant item of his and tread through the thick snow to deliver it to him, and the boy would do so with jubilation and utmost timeliness. You on the other hand wouldn’t be caught dead ordering someone to do something on your behalf when you believe you are well and capable of doing it yourself.

You don’t put expectations onto the backs of others, choosing to trust yourself first before anyone else. He knows now that it’s a result of the one instance where you expected something from someone, only to be thoroughly let down and left wondering if it was you who did something wrong.

Malleus cannot make up for the pain you’ve been subjected to, but he hopes that he can become the outlier in your life that surpasses any preconceived notions you may hold onto others. He hopes...No, he absolutely will be the one who brings you your well-earned and deserved joy and repose, just as you have done for him and continue to do so.

You love him, and he will ensure he is worthy of every last drop of your fidelity.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #malleus draconia #twst malleus #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twst writing #twst fanfic #fanfic: courtship #reader insert #reader insert fanfic #reader insert fanfiction #gender neutral reader #gender neutral pronouns #x reader

[cinnamonest]

Yo, it's the 'what's better than one big bro? Two big bros" anon again lol. For convenience sake imma just call myself 💌 anon from now on.

Im here to share the ideas I teased at the end of the last ask, some more Khaenri'ah Prince Kaeya Au stuff. As I said then, Prince Kaeya has more of a breeding kink than normal Kaeya, but I also think he's more possessive and has more of that, "My darling is mine because I deserve her. I'm the only one that deserves/is worthy of her" mentality because there is no way he isn't taking advantage of the whole, 'I'm the prince I get what I want and what I want is you, so who are you to refuse?' angle. Picture an AU where Khaenri'ah never fell and Kaeya is ruling the country. Kaeya meets you on the street one day while he's dodging his responsibilities, as he does, and something about you attracts him maybe it's your innocent and naive demeanor, maybe it's the way you fluster and blush when he teases you but still sass back, maybe it's the fact that you don't throw yourself at him the moment you meet. Either way he takes serious interest in you. Meanwhile you are just a traveller and have no idea who he is, so imagine your surprise when he comes and finds you the next day, surrounded by a bunch of royal guards and he just points at you and says, "That one." and suddenly your being picked up and dragged back to the castle where you are told the prince has chosen you as his bride! Arent you lucky. Now if there's one thing that I think Prince Kaeya would love, it's showing off his treasure, his prized possession, his queen to others. He absolutely loves exposing you to and fucking you in front of other people, both because it sends the message that this woman is his and other people can look and be jealous be he is the only one that can touch you, the only one that can fuck you, and because you just get so gosh darn embarrassed. He finds it absolutely precious and adorable how you flush at their staring and how you try to hold in your noises and bury you face in his shoulder or neck out of shame before he trains you out of that. He never let's you out of the palace and he keeps you naked most of the time. On the few occasions where you aren't naked your clothes are slinky and revealing, more like a sexy costume or lingerie than actual clothing. He definitely has you wearing a jeweled collar though. It's attached to a gold chain which he uses to guide you around the castle or keep you in one room while he has other matters to attend to.

I can totally see him having his naked darling sitting on his lap cockwarming him while he's in a royal meeting, telling her if she stays completely still he'll fuck her good and let her cum later. Or him sitting on his throne fucking you in earnest (or having you ride him while he guides your hips and sets your pace) while listening to requests from the citizens. Technically you have a smaller throne right next to his but you've never used it because you're always on his lap or at his feet while he's in the audience hall. The first time he fucks you is right after you marry, right in front of all the wedding guests. Makes sure everyone can see as he cums inside you and then immediately plugs you up. Says it's tradition to let the nobles and citizenry see to ensure that a new heir will be made. And if at any point you get angry at him or try to fight against what he's doing to you, he just is like. "I made you my queen. I didn't have to do that you know. I could have made you my concubine, which would have been much worse for you. You should be grateful. Why don't you show me some gratitude princess? Or perhaps a few nights in the dungeon will change you mind? "

I have some more thoughts that I'll be sending in another ask or two in a bit, so my apologies in advance for clogging your inbox with my thirst. It's just if I don't write these things down I'll forget.

Anon please feel free to give me thirsts at any time this is renewing my skin, quenching my needs holy shit

Smug bastard man won't let you sit in a throne at all, and if he's not in a good mood or unhappy with you you're gonna sit at his feet on the ground like a dog where you belong.

But honestly? He likes the defiance. Likes seeing you fight back. It makes it so much more fun, really. It would be no fun if you just gave in all the time, no, breaking you little by little is not only fun, but gives him a sense of accomplishment and pride he wouldn't have if you just submitted from the beginning.

#lena's asks #brainrot thoughts #kaeya thirst

[hwauas]

🕊️: "masquerade"

choi san | 최산 - 2,743 words

the euphoria of the moment. the light music echoing on the walls. the different voices of people talking together. the masked faces.

the room usually quiet was today animated, crowded with well dressed people. men, wearing so well their suits. women, wearing elegantly their dresses.

they all had a common point: they were wearing masks.

     your sister forced you to come since you were almost unreachable lately; you were studying a lot. and when you were not studying, you were either out to enjoy the weather, or taking care of horses your family owned. as the nice eldest child of the family, the heavy weight of responsibilities was on you. the first one to be independent, the role model of your siblings, and of course, the first one to achieve your goals. you had to stay determined. you couldn't give up.

     your sister was only a year younger, and she already had a sense of responsibility. this is exactly why you came with her tonight to this masquerade — even though she didn't let you the opportunity to say no. what could go wrong? it was a masquerade only high-leveled people like your family — and, so, you — could attend.

     you often wished you weren't born with a silver spoon in your mouth because you wanted to have this normal life, not being bound to do things that were often boring: attend official ceremonies, the typical diner with your family, meet people from the same social class as you or even higher, and other tasks like that. but you had to admit that, in an another hand, you wouldn't know what to do. you were glorifying this life with happiness despite the struggles, with pride after achieving something by your own, and with joy despite the precariousness.

     you were just unconscious of the real life out of all form of royalty. and you had to admit that being the Duke' and Duchess's child helped you achieving way more than you would have without this title of Marquessa/Marquess. without this title, you wouldn't have been able to be here, dressed up in your most beautiful dress/suit, with a mask. and the enthusiasm of masquerades, bals or celebrations was something you would always end up enjoying. could you still imagine a life without this kind of event after you tasted this fruit?

     as you were glancing around the room with gildints literally everywhere you could look at, you felt a presence approaching. you were on your own, trying to find someone who was known to you. you were almost out of the moment making it easier to notice this presence.

     the person approaching you cleared his throat to announce his presence, and to try and catch your eyes. you offered this person a soft smile as your eyes landed on him — your own mask was covering your forehead, an eye, you cheek below, and half of your lips.

     it was a man. he was tall. you could say he was fit and healthy despite his thin form. the red velvet suit was contrasting with the palness of his skin. the delicate golden chain around his neck was decorating his skin, giving it a kind of splendor. a sparkling touch, enough to give the skin the color it needed to shine. a precious treasure.

the mask he was wearing was covering the upper part of his face only. his forehead. his eyes. his nose. his cheekbones. you could see only his pink — almost red — lips, contrasting again with the palness of his skin. his jawlines were perfectly visible, looking like the sharpest part of his face.

     “may i have this dance?”

you were surprised by his request. did you hear right? was he really interested in you being his partner for a dance?

you pointed at your nose, in aim to ask if you were the one he was asking this to.

“who else? of course, you.”

he handed his own hand, waiting for you to grab it. which you did with red cheeks visible on the unmasked one.

     he softly brought you closer to him, and led you to the center of the room. he rested a hand on your waist, keeping his other hand around yours.

as an experienced dancer, he led you through the slow dance, among the others, the tenderest gaze ever on your face. you had troubles looking back at his masked face: his gaze on you felt so intense. too intense. you were desperately looking for something to look at instead: something on his suit, something behind him, something on your left or right. but nothing.

     he noticed your behaviour quicker than you thought he would. he slowly let go of your hand, and lifted up your head by your chin. the touch was so soft: you never felt a touch softer than that before.

     “you're not allowed to look at something else than me, dear. don't look away.~”

his voice held something that made it less annoying to hear — you never liked to be told what you should do. you gulped hardly, shyly looking into his dark eyes peeking through the two holes. this intense look was surprisingly holding so much tenderness, making the eye contact more enjoyable than you thought.

“to be honest, i came to you because my brother asked me to: he didn't have courage enough to come to you, and he wanted me to approach you to introduce you to him then. but he forgot something..”

     “what is it..?”

you were a little bit lost; why his brother didn't have courage enough to come? you wouldn't describe yourself as someone charismatic or impressive. nothing which is actually holding someone back from coming to you.

     “anything i lay my eyes on belongs to me.”

the man used a deep voice, giving you chills. and astonishingly, being called 'his' wasn't unpleasant...

     the end of the slow dance came too quickly for your liking. was he going to come back to his brother? was he going to stay with you?

you let got of his hand, and his whole body in general, a little bit shy. you were just waiting for him to make a move — to leave you, or to lead you somewhere else to spend more time — since you were too shy to actually take the leads. of course you would like him to stay with you. but was it acceptable for a Marquessa/Marquess to ask for this? even though he didn't know yet who you were nor what title you had: he would know all of this at midnight, when all the masks fall.

     you were brought to reality when you felt the man's hand in your back. without telling anything, and without asking anything, you followed him wherever he led you to.

     it was a place with as much luxurious objects as the main room where you were before, with the other guests. a few were here, dispatched here and there. it was way more agreeable to be here.

     “so you were serious..? you won't introduce me to your brother?”

you talked before thinking, and you immediately had regrets. you didn't know who was his brother. and even though you didn't know who was the man in front you, at least, you knew more or less what he looked like, and you didn't really want to spend your time with someone else. he was way enough for you — not to say too good looking. what if his brother was even more beautiful than him?

     “of course i was serious. you wanna meet him..?”

the man's voice held something showing how disappointed he was. the guilty rushed quicker through your veins. it was all your fault.

    “no, it's not what i meant!”

a chuckle left his lips. this is now you noticed, despite the dim light, the dimples pecking right under the mask covering the upper part of his face.

     the man led you closer to the window. the moon was now lightening him brighter than before, making it easier for you see the lower part of his face.

     “i'm curious about your title...”

the man whispered. it was hard to hear him if you weren't paying attention to him.

“and i'm curious about your name. i'm basically curious about you.”

     “and so i am... but you have to wait until midnight. then you'll know who i am.”

you said this with so much assurance, as if it was a game you were playing, and he tried to break the rules. but he had to stick with them. however, will he accept this?

     “rules are done to be broken. don't you think so?”

the smirk on his face gave you chills. you could tell by that he was determined to know a little bit of you before midnight.

     you had a bright smile, half hidden. it was your moment to shine. your moment to tease him. it was an opportunity you couldn't miss.

with all the courage you needed, you tried to build you up more impressive: you crossed your arms, the head up as any noble should, looking away through the window, over the lands.

     “as a Marquessa/Marquess, this idea of breaking the rules isn't really pleasant, you know?”

you tried to have a look on his reaction at your teasing, hoping you weren't too daring for his liking.

     “but even Marquessas/Marquesses break the rules.~”

his teasing and shining gaze was looking directly at your profile.

you felt a relief at his reaction which was quite good.

     “we all were children. we all did mistakes and break a rule.~”

the man next to you chuckled. your eyes meet his. a spark of mischief was shining.

     “and children get punished for that. what does that mean?”

this little game got you suddenly weak. you never thought he would play along the game. you never thought he would say something like that to you. the biter was bit. and you didn't know what to do about it.

     you tried to hide the wave of warmth that crushed your body. yet it was hard. you couldn't pretext it was because of all the people here since there were barely no one. you couldn't say it was because of the weather since it was a cool night temperature. you couldn't say it was because of drinks since there were only champagne — as alcohol — you didn't even get. you were trapped.

     “is my lady/my lord nervous about what i said?”

the man seemed to enjoy the position he put you in. the spark in his eyes was brighter.

     “i'm not. and this means absolutely nothing, my dear.”

     to try and avoid him, you started to walk away from him, following all the French windows in the room. you focused this time on the outside. besides the pureness of the moonlight over the city, the lights from all the habitations were giving the impression of a terrestrial starry night.

     you heard the man's step behind you, meaning he was following you. he was determined to stay by your side, and you weren't complaining.

     “and you? you're not gonna tell me your title? or something about yourself?”

you stopped in front an opened French window. you slowly opened it wider to go through it. the man was quick to follow you outside, on the balcony.

     “what would you like to know?”

as he felt the cool temperature outside, he removed his red velvet jacket and placed it on your shoulders. the warmth embrassed you so well, just as his scent.

     “i'd like to know who you are.”

     “the land i'd like you to rule in the future.”

you chocked on your own saliva, and caught slightly. you cheeks were red. of course, it was very pleasant to hear this. however, was is acceptable? you didn't know each other, after all.

“you gotta wait until midnight. twenty minutes left. you can wait, right?”

     you bit your inner cheek. so you did him a favour, and he wouldn't do something back for you? you couldn't help but think about him as an ungrateful person. and this left a bitter taste in your mouth.

the beauty of the moment seemed to have faded away in a blink of an eye. the starry night seemed to be less sparkling. the city lights seemed to be less bright.

     “i just don't wanna ruin everything by telling you who i am. i'm so done with everybody treating me in a way i don't like. when i put on a mask, i cover also my identity.”

the voice held something you couldn't describe well: a mixture of sadness, tiredness, solitude.

you slowly stepped closer to the man. both of your hands found their places around his arm. under his shirt, you could tell he had more muscle than you thought.

     “but i don't like the fact you're hiding yourself behind this mask. in some ways, i want to talk to you. not an another version of yourself. with this mask, you're hiding what you like, what you dislike, your weaknesses and what makes you stronger, where you from and where you're going. anyways, any noble here can't escape their fate. i have to rule a part of this country after my parents as a Marquessa/Marquess, and future Duchess/Duke. a Duchess or a Duke has to rule a part of the country before their child. a prince has to be a good successor, and a Queen or a King has to be devoted to their kingdom till the end. i wish i was born in a different family too. but i'm not, and i can't do anything about that. the same goes for you.”

you were looking deeply into the other's eyes, until he looked away. your words touched him deep down. it had an impact on him. a real impact.

     he slowly took back his arm from you. without saying anything, and after a short moment of silence, he removed his mask. and you immediately recognised him. you knew who these eyes belonged too.

     “prince Choi San...”

you were shocked by this. of course you knew him. who wouldn't know who the prince was? who the king's heir apparent was?

“i waited for you for so long... i waited, but you were gone. where were you?”

you removed your own mask for him to know who you were. and San's eyes opened wider.

     “i... i'm so sorry, y/n... i didn't mean to... i swear... i thought about this afternoon so much. and i had so much regrets for not being able to come and play with you as always...”

San's eyes quickly became teary. the time around you was no longer your problem, nor his.

“dad's travel back here was so sudden, even for me. i fell asleep in my room, there, in your father's land. and i woke up in a luxurious room i've never seen. dad and mom said nothing about this. i wasn't even aware of this. it felt empty without you, my friend i used to play with. i knew no one. and dad wanted me to learn everything about being a prince, his heir apparent, and in a proper background. the life in this castle without you was unbearable... i'm so sorry y/n...”

     without thinking twice, you wrapped your arms around his thin waist. as San always did back in your childhood, he wrapped an arm around you, and ran a hand through your hair to keep your head close to him. you found back his embrace, so protective, sweet and tender. different voice, different scent, but same warmth.

     footsteps came closer to you both hugging. you shut your eyes open, and met San's brother face, without his mask. he didn't really change. he was still the same...

     “i knew it was y/n, San. i had courage enough to approach her. but you were the one who needed to find her/him. i wasn't. i was only a baby when we left. i had way less memories with her/him than you when we came here.”

his brother looked at you, slowly leaving San's embrace.

“any day went by without him telling me how much he missed you, how sorry he was for not coming this day, and how sad he was.”

     “thank you, Jongho.”

San's eyes were shining with gratitude.

     you were, again, reunited with San. your childhood friend.

#ateez #atiny #hongjoong #kim hongjoong #seonghwa #park seonghwa #yunho #jeong yunho #yeosang #kang yeosang #san #choi san #mingi #song mingi #wooyoung #jeong wooyoung #jongho #choi jongho #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #royal au #ateez x reader

[smileyoongle]

MASTERPIECE (A Yandere Park Jimin AU)

Summary: You thought it was just a painting until you bought it. You thought the man in the frame was beautiful until you saw him. You thought it was a masterpiece until you were ruined.

Pairing: Yandere! Jimin×Reader, Taehyung×Reader

Warnings: Contains mentions of smut, deaths, blood, obsessive behaviour and mental health issues. Please read at your own risk.

Heavy pants filled the room as two bodies lay side by side, tangled with each other and smiling at the intimacy they had shared just minutes ago. The lights in the lavish bedroom were dim as rain pattered against the windows, the water drops glistening in the light that came from inside the room.

"How's your merger coming up?"

Taehyung turned his head to face you, admiring the soft features of your face that captured his heart every time he saw them. He shuffled in the sheets, propping himself up on his elbow, his palm pressed against his cheek. With his other hand, he brushed your hair away from your face, a soft smile gracing his lips.

"Well... it's exhausting. Steve is a dick. And I'm not sure how long I'll be able to tolerate him."

You hummed, placing a hand on Taehyung's cheek and softly caressing it as he leaned down to kiss you. Your lips always tasted sweet, a hint of your favourite wine leaving a mellow taste on Taehyung's tongue. Taehyung hated wines but he wasn't sure anymore after having kissed you a thousand times.

With a final peck, he got off the bed, grabbing his jeans and pulling them up his legs. You rolled over in bed, resting your chin on the back of your hands as your eyes raked over his body. Every inch of his skin was inviting and his face didn't help your case either. He was just so ethereal. So godlike.

"And here I was, thinking you'd stay for round two." You teased, twirling your hair between your fingers and biting your lips. You knew it was his weakness, he'd come right back to you whenever you did that.

Taehyung buttoned his jeans and turned to you, only to have his breath hitch. He could already feel his jeans tighten, the fact that he was already turned on growing evident with every passing second.

His eyes roamed over your body. He noticed that you had purposely shifted the sheets off your body so that he could see your exposed skin. The curve of your breasts, the smooth skin of your thighs with bruises littered on it and the marks on your neck were all calling him to devour you again.

With a shaky breath, Taehyung closed his eyes, trying to divert his mind away from your tactics.

"I have work tomorrow morning, you know that. And the fact that you live outside the city doesn't help at all." He voiced, putting on his shirt. You rolled your eyes and stood up, leaving the black cloth that was initially hiding your body from him. You had never been shy, not with your body. And especially with Taehyung, there was absolutely no need for you to hide anything. He was a friend. A friend who you called when you wanted to...well…friends with benefits would be the correct way to define your relationship.

You slipped your hands around his waist, kissing the back of his neck as he shuddered beneath your fingers. "Y/N…" he warned, holding your hand in his and pulling you in front of him. The sight of your body made his mouth water. He had to remind himself that he had a very important meeting to attend and staying was not an option. He was the CEO of a big company, afterall.

Placing his hands on either side of your cheeks, he kissed your forehead.

"Get some sleep. Your paintings can wait for you and don't drink too much. Or I'll have to ban the winery from sending you any more bottles, got it?"

You lazily nodded your head with a mocking smile, knowing very well that Taehyung was just wasting his breath.

He shook his head in response, also aware that you weren't gonna listen to him anyway. He kissed your smiling lips before heading out, leaving you alone in your big old mansion-like house.

You watched him run to his car as he tried to cover his head with his hands, his white shirt already showing traces of his skin. The rain was heavy and it didn't look like it was gonna stop anytime soon.

Running your hands through your hair, you trudged towards the bathroom for a hot shower.

You had known Taehyung for 10 years now. You had met him during high school and he had stood by you through thick and thin. The sexual tension between the two of you became harder to hide when you two graduated and one thing led to another. Before you knew it, you were already having a very unhealthy relationship with a guy who was supposed to be your best friend. It didn't have to be unhealthy but it was.

Blame it on Taehyung's inability to hide his affectionate feelings towards you. But it was unhealthy. At least for you.

In an hour, you were sitting in your art room, which you had lovingly named 'Creative Arena' due to it's huge space. All kinds of paintings and sculptures covered it's wooden floors. But that was also the case with your entire house. Taehyung always joked about your house being a museum and how you should start holding exhibitions there.

Too bad. This was your personal haven.

Every painting spoke to you. Every sculpture held emotions that you desperately wanted to read. You loved being an art collector. You loved yourself.

Sipping your Pinot Noir, you placed the wine glass on the small coffee table before picking up your paint brush. You hummed in delight, knowing exactly what your next painting was gonna be. You drowned in the colours and forgot about the entire world until the sun rose and your eyes closed.

________________________________

You stared out at the darkness, leaning your head against the car window and relishing in the soft purr of the engine along with the rain. It ended up being a long exhibition, although according to you, there wasn't anything worth looking at. If it was up to you, you would have made sure that Mrs Marlowe never ever painted again. It annoyed you to listen to her rambling about how her art can help the world.

That woman didn't even know what primer she used.

A loud ringing echoed through the car as you glanced at your phone, Taehyung's boxy smile lighting up your screen. You swipe your finger across the screen to accept the call, your eyes closing as you placed the phone next to your ear.

"Hey." His deep voice filled your ears, your heart beating rhythmically as you found yourself relaxing. That was Taehyung for you. He was your salvation. He kept you from drowning away from reality.

"Hi. How was work?" You asked casually, glancing outside at the wet roads.

"Tiring as always. I attended three meetings nonstop. How about you? Marlowe, wasn't it? Was she good?"

You smiled smugly at his 'I-know-everything' tone. He always kept tabs on you.

"Stalker much?" You mocked, tilting your head, not like he could see you anyway. Taehyung chuckled on the other end. You could imagine his face at the moment. Sometimes, it surprises you that you hadn't fallen for him. Taehyung always took care of you like he was your boyfriend. But somewhere something stopped you from loving him like that. Unfortunately, you couldn't figure it out.

"Maybe. Will I be seeing you today?"

You looked down at the watch on your wrist.

7:56 PM

You had plenty of spare time. Blame it on the lack of inspiration for your art session but you wanted to enjoy life for a bit. It was Saturday the next day. Maybe you could just give yourself a break.

"Don't know but maybe. I'll-"

Suddenly, you jolted forward as your hands frantically held onto the backrest of the passenger seat in front of you, the phone slipping from your hands and falling down with a faint thud. Your eyes immediately shot up to see your driver, who was looking at you apologetically.

"I'm sorry, Miss Y/L/N. But something's wrong with the engine. I'll need some time to fix it." He stated, bowing his head as you huffed. With a shake of your head, you bent down to grab your phone and brought it back to your ear.

"Y/N?! Are you alright? Why aren't you sayi-"

"I'm okay, Tae. The car broke down. I don't know how long it'll take to get it started again." You said, hearing him sigh in relief. Your eyes fell on the small shop across the road, dim yellow lights illuminating the asphalt. It looked like a very old shop and you could make out the outlines of paintings inside it.

"Do you want me to come and get you?"

Curiosity got the best of you and you felt yourself being pulled to the shop. You just wanted to see. It was art, afterall.

"No. I'll wait it out. I'll tell you if I'm coming over. Don't bother." You replied, looking at your driver and nodding your head towards the shop. He understood and quickly got out of the car with an umbrella in his hand.

"Okay, then. Take care."

You hung up as the door to your side opened and you stepped out, scrunching your face when a few water droplets hit your face. You loved the rains, no doubt about that. But you didn't like them when you had to work outside. Petrichor was beyond pleasant but the humidity made you uncomfortable.

"I'll be in that shop. Let me know if you need help or something." You said to your driver, walking beside him as he held the umbrella above you. As soon as you stepped into the warmth of the cozy shop, you turned around and gestured your driver to take the umbrella with him. He worked for you and you respected that. He needed to be healthy and safe. With a small smile, he scurried away, leaving you to do whatever you want.

You clutched your phone tightly, looking around the small shop as your eyes sparkled at the many vibrant artworks that lay around. With a frown, you proceeded to explore around, running your fingers across all the canvases and trying to see which one you felt connected to. The emptiness of the store did make you feel creeped out but you were too distracted to act upon your uncomfortableness. The sound of rain buzzed in your ear as your eyes narrowed in concentration. You turned and stepped in another isle, glancing at the dim light which had started flickering.

This shop needs renovation…

You thought and pursed your lips. Even though you knew that you were thinking too far, you couldn't help yourself. It was pretty hard for a small store which was hidden in the outskirts of the city to make a lot of money. Renovation was miles away.

As you continued to walk down the aisle, your steps faltered when your eyes fell on the painting resting against the wall at the far end. You couldn't tell what the painting was since it had a cloth draped over it but you were curious. Like always.

You tilted your head and slowly walked towards it, stretching your hand to hold the thin and dirty cloth.

Don't do it!

You frowned, wondering why something felt wrong. Your mind was constantly telling you to get out of the store. But why? You shook your head and pulled the cloth away in one swift pull of your hand.

Your mouth fell open as soon as your eyes met his.

The man in the painting.

He looked so...real.

His eyes held pride and his plump lips pulled into a small smile. The black base contrasted well with his attire and you just couldn't take your eyes off of it. Your eyes ran across the frame and you quickly moved closer on seeing some carvings on the metal.

Park Jimin

1995- 2017

You assumed this was the man in the painting. You failed to hide your shock on seeing the year of his death. He was too young.

But why was this painting here?

Why not with his family?

Too lost in your thoughts, you failed to notice the presence of another man who was now standing behind you. His eyes raked over your body as you continued to focus on the painting that had taken your breath away. His lips stretched into a knowing smirk as he leaned against a shelf, his arms crossed against his chest.

"I see you quite like the painting."

You flinched and turned around, your hand immediately going up to your chest. You stared at the man with wide eyes, cursing at him mentally.

"You scared me." You mumbled, closing your eyes and catching your breath. He let out a breathy laugh and held his hands up as if to defend himself.

"Didn't mean to. But can't really blame me. Not many people come here."

You moved your eyes up to his face, taking in his appearance. His black hair fell across his forehead and his heart shaped lips greeted you with a smile. You had met too many people to know that something was off about this guy. Actually, something was wrong with this whole place.

"Can't blame anyone else though. You chose to open here." You replied bluntly, not caring how arrogant you sounded. You had stopped giving a shit about other people's feelings a long time ago.

4 years ago, to be precise.

He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes with a mocking smile on his face.

"Touchè. So, about that painting…"

You glanced at the painting before looking back at him, knowing that he was only trying to sell it. And weirdly enough, you were absolutely ready to take it home. Even though it felt wrong.

"What about it?" You asked, crossing your arms.

"I'll give it to you for whatever you're willing to pay."

You immediately frowned. It was a perfectly good painting and you had already estimated it's price. Why was he ready to give it for anything less?

"Why would you do that?" You questioned, raising your eyebrows in disbelief. The lights flickered again for a few seconds before going back to normal. Also, the rain had stopped, you could tell by the sudden quietness that engulfed you.

"We don't get many folks here. Anything to make a living, I guess."

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the floor, embarrassed by his situation. You sighed in sympathy and turned around to look at Park Jimin. His eyes were boring into yours and you felt shivers running down your spine. No painting had ever affected you this much. Something was definitely different about this one and you needed to take it home.

"I'll take it for 1000 bucks."

Taglist: @csol16 @thanksforthemameries @min-t-posts @xanny91 @silverstitchedsoul @truestrengths @jackgot7lo @jazzytfw @cassiescarlet12 @kpopgirlbtssvt @slut-for-fandoms @kawaiimusiccollection @butwhatsoft @baby-glitch @wickedbutlovely

You know the drill for the taglist...lemme know if you wanna be added! I know this chapter was a little boring but I need to build a base before diving right into the yandere theme. Bare with me? Please? I love you!

-XX

#bts #bts jimin #yandere bts imagine #yandere bts #yandere jimin #bts army #kpop #bts imagines #bts jungkook #bts reactions #bts request #kpop roleplay #bts au #smileyoongle #bts angst #bts taehyung #yandere #yandere au #yandere×reader #kim taehyung #taehyung×reader #jimin fanfic #park jimin #bts jin #bts namjoon #bts yoongi #bts hoseok #yandere park jimin #masterpiece #yandere bts smut

[rnufharose]

Chapter 21

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: Some suggestive themes and mentions of kidnapping.

︻デ═一 ♥

After a successful day at work, Sehun had picked Haneul up from work, the dress he had bought her well hidden in the backseat. He couldn't wait to show it to her, but he had to tell her she would accompany him to the social gathering Junmyeon had spoken of. And now, here he was, in the living room sipping on a glass of whiskey while Haneul had busied herself with giving Vivi his food. She seemed happier now that she was working again, but something else wouldn't leave the back of his mind.

"What if I actually end up falling in love with you?!"

Her voice echoed in his thoughts, and though Sehun had come to terms with the fact that he was so in love with her, being even several feet away from her felt unbearable. He recalled just this morning when he had her standing between him and the counter, and he caught the beautiful pink flush that graced her cheeks. Her scent was so intoxicating--a sweet blend of vanilla and apple blossoms that calmed him yet drove him crazy.

As she stood up to brush off her jeans, he mulled over her appearance. Her long, silky brown hair which he wanted to tuck away from her face, those eyes so sweet and innocent he wanted them from milk chocolate to dark, and her lips so pink, he wanted to make her breathless with each kiss he gave her. Her shoulders were small, her body petite and slender, her skin soft and creamy--she looked so elegant, and he wanted to make her a mess. He imagined tasting her candied skin, her small, perky breasts fitting perfectly in his hands, listening to her gasp and mewl lewdly while he ground against her. He wanted to grip her slender hips as he moved toward that delectable prize, lapping at the arousal pooling between--

"Sehun?" Haneul broke him out of his dirty reverie. "Are you alright? You've been staring at me like I'm some intruder..."

She had found him looking at her just behind his glass of whiskey, completely still, his eyes cold and piercing, and Sehun put down his glass, clearing his throat and turning his head to hide what little red had colored his cheeks. "Mianhamnida..." He apologized formally, his hand in a fist as he felt her looking at him with those doe eyes. Fuck, he thought, slightly frustrated. Don't look at me like that, Neullie... or I might just pounce on you right now. And he didn't want that, even if the girl before him held so much power over him.

To make sure that wouldn't, he stood from the couch and reached for something over one of the arms, pulling out the bag that had her dress, "I have something for you. But... I have to tell you why this is necessary. Come here, sit with me."

She hesitated slightly, afraid of the unnatural palpitations that would take over her heart if she was anywhere near him, but she knew she couldn't decline. Haneul closed the distance between them slowly, taking a seat beside him. "What is it you want to tell me?" She asked carefully, her hands gripping the edges of the couch.

"Well," Sehun began, running his fingers through his raven hair, brows furrowed. "Junmyeon hyung is holding a social gathering soon, and I was told to take you as my plus one. All of the crime syndicates will be attending..."

"A social gathering?" She parroted, not too thrilled about the idea nor being his plus one with all the other clans attending, but Junmyeon had a good reason, so she pressed forth, asking him once again. "Won't the FT Syndicate be there? They'll take the opportunity to kill me..."

"If they did, they would be starting a war with all of the clans," he explained, giving her an assuring smile. "If you're there, the syndicates will know you're alive and not to mess with the Cho Clan since your family's name still holds weight in the underworld. EXO will be demonstrating their power over FT and we will establish that you are under our protection and that we won't tolerate any assassination attempts and the like." He could tell by the look on her face that she was anxious. Her shoulders were tense and her grip on the couch wouldn't let up. Her eyes remained on the coffee table before them and he understood why. She would still be in harm's way even if she was being protected. "I understand you're scared," Sehun spoke, trying to appease her. "but I'll be right by your side the whole night. I'll protect you no matter what..."

"But will that be enough?" Haneul wondered, lifting her gaze to meet his dark one. "Who will protect you?"

The raven-haired hitman chuckled a bit, smirking, "Don't worry about me. I've been through worse and I'm still living. Right now, you're my top priority."

The brunette moved her hands toward her lap, clasping them gently, "I just don't you getting hurt trying to protect me."

"I won't, I promise," Sehun answered, looking over her side profile. "I'd teach you how to use a gun, but those pretty hands of yours shouldn't have blood on them. Those hands are meant to bring comfort."

Haneul gave him a soft chuckle, looking up at him with a smile. He sure has a way with words, she thought. "I also promise not to do anything reckless like last time. I won't want you to worry like that ever again."

"Really?" He tilted his head slightly, and then, swiftly, he moved closer to her, and Haneul couldn't pull back. Just like this morning, she was looking into his eyes again. She could smell his musky cologne and milk bubble tea, his large frame shadowing over her, and Sehun raised his hand, caressing her cheek.

"Sehun? What is--?" She tried, but he interrupted her.

"You always make me worry," he rasped, looking at her with such intensity, she felt like she was his target, and he would treat her like one--without mercy and with all of his ability. "You sure love to cause trouble for me, Neullie... I didn't know the innocent ones were the naughtiest."

"I--" She stammered, but she didn't pull away from him or protest to his close proximity and unlike this morning, her heart was beating so quickly, she was afraid it would burst in her chest.

"You broke that promise long before you made it," Sehun continued, his face inching closer, lips parting slightly. "Look at you, running away and making me come after you... you have no idea what it does to me."

"Sehun, I don't think..." She pressed her hands to his chest as if she was going to push him away, but the fact of the matter was, she didn't want to. Haneul wanted him to stay. She wanted him to come closer. "I..." She could feel his breath on her lips, her eyes becoming half-lidded, and without much thought, she was gripping the material of his buttondown.

"Easy on the goods, Princess," he smiled complacently when she fisted his shirt. He wanted her so bad. He wanted to hold her and kiss her, hear her breath go ragged as he worshipped her. She was becoming his whole world and he was afraid she would be a dream if he didn't kiss her right now. The bedroom would have to wait another time. "I'm not going anywhere," Sehun wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer until she molded into his frame perfectly. "and you're not either."

Haneul's eyelashes fluttered, her eyes closing, and she was about ready to meet him halfway. She wanted him to hold her like this. She wanted him to stay as close to her as possible, but that would be short-lived.

There was a vibration coming from the kitchen counter, and Haneul opened her eyes, stopping Sehun from coming closer and bringing her attention toward her phone. She was slightly disappointed that this had to end, and Sehun even more so. He groaned deeply, pulling away and pouring himself another glass of whiskey. "You should get that," he spoke coldly, and she gave him a slow nod, standing from her seat and fixing her shirt before making for the kitchen counter. Haneul was still flustered from that ordeal, grabbing her phone and finding Bella's number on the screen, and she brought it to her ear.

"Yeobosaeyo?"

"Neullie?!" Bella's voice came from the other side, her town quivering and frantic. "Please... can you get Sehun on the phone?! It's Taehyung!"

"What?" the girl asked, eyes wide with shock. Bella never called her sounding like this before. She suspected something had happened. "Is he hurt? Where is he?!"

"I--I don't know! Put Sehun on the phone, please!" She begged, and Haneul turned toward the couch once more, and he was still drinking.

"What's wrong?" He asked, and she handed him the phone, allowing him to talk to Bella.

"It's Taehyung," Haneul said. "I think something happened. Bella wants to speak with you."

#romance #eventual fluff #eventual romance #eventual smut #eventual happy ending #exo #sehun #exo sehun #bts #oh sehun

[r-ahh-mi]

Under The Necklace

Pairing: Rami Malek x Reader

Summary: Rami is asked in an interview about how he lost his virginity and begins to reminisce about the woman who captured his heart in high school..little does he know that the very woman isn’t as far away as he would have thought. In this scenario, all of the flashbacks are of Rami & reader at the age of 18 (because we love legal adults getting it on).

Warnings: Slight sexual content & swearing.

Word Count: 5.1k

Permanent Tag List: @frami-mercury-malek @lovelymalekk @mezzomercury @sherlollydramoine @rami-malek-trash @amcquivey

-

Despite her best efforts, she was still questioning herself and the outfit she’d put together. Don’t even get her started on the hair. God, it was awful; not to most people, but to her coworkers who knew of the usual messy bun she threw her hair up in each day, it was awful in the most pathetic way possible.

She had bragged before, in previous job positions, about who she had lost her virginity to two decades ago, she wouldn’t deny that. I mean who could hold back the secret that your precious ‘v’ card was in the hands of an Oscar winner and a fairly attractive one at that. However, seeing as she was working in the media herself, as a journalist, she had quieted down a few notches, not wanting to give herself a name as someone who is constantly dropping any celebrities name that she’d ever had contact with, but also because she knew at some point she would have to come in contact with him.

Today just happened to be that day.

Although neither of them had spoken since high school, she always admired him from afar. Taking note of the various projects he’d been involved in (and binge watching them on various occasions) and, as apart of her job, keeping up with him and his whereabouts. However, today was the first time she could possibly have contact with him. The magazine she worked for decided to have Rami be their ‘cover boy’ for the month and, of course, when she heard the news she immediately felt a down pour of emotions -- happiness, shyness, a slight bit of anxiety, but mostly just pure curiosity. 

See, her and Rami had dated in high school, nothing major or drama filled, just casually dated for a few months during her senior year, but both decided to end the brief romance due to them both attending separate colleges. However, that didn’t make their relationship any less special, especially since, they both entertained their first sexual experiences with one another on the night of their senior prom. 

As she brightened up the dulled out pink lipstick in the bathroom mirror,  she couldn’t help but reflect on the worried brow and gentle touch that he showed her that night when they were both terribly hormonal and at the peak of their feelings for one another. In fact, she’s a thousand percent sure one could see the bumps appearing on her arms as the shivers rang through her skin just trying to feel and imagine his delicate kisses that he placed all over her body. She popped her mouth, perfecting the matte shade on her lips, as she snuggled the tube into her blazer pocket and headed for the bathroom door. Immediately, one of her coworkers greeted her.

“Are you nervous about today?”

She shrugged, attempting to give off the vibe that it was no big deal in her mind as both of the ladies walked down the hallway together.

“Why would I be nervous?”

“Maybe because your going to be sitting in on your ex boyfriends interview.”

She shook her head, “We dated in high school and it was for a couple of months. You’re acting as if he was my long term lover or the one that got away.”

“Oh! but what if he is? What if this is all fates doing and he’s coming back into your life so you guys can finally be together and-”

“Not to bust your precious little fairy tale, but honestly, it was nothing serious. All we did was lose our virginity to one another.” She said the last part just slightly above a whisper

“Fine..but you clearly have put an effort into your appearance so you must want to get something out of him being here”, her coworker bumped their hips together as she shook her head with a laugh, feeling the bright red coming on to her cheeks.

“I just want him to know that i’m doing well...IF he even recognizes me at all. I haven’t spoken to him in twenty years and I don’t exactly look the same as I used to.”

“Yeah and neither does he. God he’s so handsome.”

She slightly shook her head, thinking back to those times she had to look at the candid shots of him browsing New York or chatting away at an event. His chiseled jaw was a far cry from the baby faced Rami she knew.

The beeping on her smart watch made her slightly jump as she apologized to her co worker for needing to get out of the conversation as she headed down a flight of stairs, into the room where Rami would be being interviewed. She had set her alarm which would allow her just enough time to ensure everything was set in place for the interview. Although she wasn’t the one giving the interview today (thank god) she would be the one sitting in, by the camera, to make sure all technical equipment was working properly and to assist the interviewer should they need to make any last minute or on the spot revisions to the questions they would be asking.

As she entered the dimly lit room, there were various different people scattering around the room as if they were chickens fresh from the slaughter; she, however, was quite calm considering the circumstances. Maybe it was because she was too preoccupied with the thought of them both being in the same room together in a mere amount of minutes, or maybe..that was it. That was the only excuse and proper explanation, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to own up to the fact that he was having that much of an affect on her.

“Are you Y/N?”

A beautiful, young dark haired girl stood in front of her, slightly frazzled hair and even wider eyes were the first thing that caught her eye as she looked at the unfamiliar women.

“I am yes, can I help you with something?”

“I’m Rami’s assistant and just wanted to ensure everything on his list is cleared with your interviewer. It’s some subjects he would prefer not to be asked about.”

Hearing his name made her subconsciously hesitate a little as his assistant held her hand out for a couple seconds too long for her liking as she let a small clearing sound in her throat ring in the bustling room. In an instant, she snatched the paper from her hands, glancing over it --- it was a list she had already seen and cleared with the interviewer, but to please the women, who already seemed to be annoyed at her, she gave her a smile and turned on her heels to head for the fresh new girl they had just hired who would be delivering the questions to their celebrity guest today.

“I know you’ve seen this list before, but please look over it as if you haven’t and pretend it’s interesting enough for that women to stop glaring at me. Sound good?”

The new girl laughed slightly as she let her eyes brush over the words on the paper as she pretended to analyze it carefully.

“Perfect”, she whispered into the new girls ear as she gave the girls shoulder a slight squeeze, making both of the girls smile out of amusement.

She was called to yet another task by someone in Rami’s entourage almost immediately, making her have to exit the room and scamper out into the hallway to make a quick phone call to her boss. What she wasn’t expecting was for Rami to walk down the very same hallway while her phone was glued to her ear. He looked so casual and normal - a far cry from his new lifestyle, but his plain button up and fitted jeans and the way he walked down the hallway all by himself, edging nearer and nearer to her, in that moment it felt like he was just a normal guy, not someone who was being attacked by the media wanting more and more from him. It almost made her sad to say that she too was apart of that very media, just in a different form -- at least the magazine she worked for wasn’t fueled by paparazzi shots and fake headlines.

As Rami walked closer and closer down the hall, she could feel her pulse quicken and her brain completely shut itself off from the conversation she was attempting to have on the phone that she’d completely forgotten about. Of course, Rami gave her nothing but a brief nod and friendly smile -- of course he didn't’ recognize her, if it weren’t for his celeb status, she wouldn’t have recognized him either should she have walked next to him on a street. However, that didn’t make the slight ping of sadness any less prominent....but there wasn’t time for slithering around and moping about some boy she had relations with in high school. This was her job and one that she was good at, she knew she was, and she wasn’t about to let anyone distract her anymore than he already had.

She apologized to her boss over the phone, blaming it on another demand being made on Rami’s crews behalf, but she eventually got the clarification she needed and was able to re-enter the interview space and take her spot in the back by the camera’s, making her body only a mere outline against the dimly lit room.

As she adjusted her dress to cover just a tad more of the flesh on her thighs, she heard his laugh. Although many things had changed since the two decades since they last interacted, his laugh remained the same. Alright, maybe it was just a smidge deeper, thanks to puberty, but it was still something she would have always known to be familiar had she heard it at any given time. She watched as Rami politely waved to the entire crew, making small eye contact with her, as he then properly introduced himself to the interviewer, giving her a friendly hand shake and smile as he made himself comfortable in the brown leather chair which he was now seated in.

Rami:

I was in no mood today for an interview. Fourteen hours straight of filming the night prior and then only being allotted six hours to sleep until I had to show up here and look poised, content, and fashionable was anything but enjoyable, but I wasn’t one to take out my exhaustion on my team or whomever was scheduled to hold my attention for the afternoon. So I smiled, I acted friendly and, as if I had just received an abundance of sleep the night before, even if that was anything further from the truth. At least this magazine seemed to be half decent as opposed to ones fueled by lies and made up scandals, not to mention the employee’s here seemed to be quite easy on the eyes. 

“How much time have we got?”

The interviewers posh British accent was a major contrast the the other woman’s American one as she whispered a reply to the interviewer, making small, but obvious eye contact with me. 

I knew her from somewhere, but I wasn’t able to pinpoint where exactly. Maybe walking down the street, maybe we sat on the same subway car when she visited New York, who knows, but that face and those eyes and the pout of her full lips may seem normal when described, but they were so unique and so distant, yet very familiar to me. It almost sparked my attention enough for me to ask if i’d met her before when I first saw her in the hallway; had she not had a phone pressed to her ear at that moment, I would’ve done just that. Still, there was something eerily familiar about her and I knew it would eat me away for the entirety of this interview, especially when I could just barely see her head peaked over the back of the interviewers shoulder.

“One minute.”

Speak of the devil. 

My eyes flickered to hers, briefly engaging the both of us in eye contact and I knew it couldn’t have just been a casual encounter like passing on the street. No, we talked, I know we did, but still my mind was drawing a complete blank. I made a mental note to make sure I spoke with her after all of this interview bullshit was over.

The interviewer gave a few questions to start -- most of them being terribly generic and my answers being terribly stale as I was far too exhausted and ill of patience today. I wasn’t trying to be mean, but I could tell I wasn’t giving her the answers she wanted and had to get in order for her to keep her job, so I attempted to perk up and engage her in some light and casual conversation.

“Where’s the juicy questions?”

“Juicy questions?”. The interviewer cocked her eyebrow as she gazed at me before flickering her eyes back down to the note cards in her hands. 

“You know like who I lost my virginity to or-”

“Is that what you want me to ask you?”

I shrugged my shoulders before I leaned in a little bit closer to her and whispered, “This isn’t live right?” She shook her head, absolutely knowing where i was taking this conversation.

“Then let’s have some fun with the questions then, yeah?” She nodded, both of us exchanging friendly smiles that made her blush as she tucked the note cards into the pocket of her dress.

“Let’s get to it then. Tell me about when you lost your virginity.”

I knew my team was mentally panicking right now as I heard some absurdly loud and fast typing that was going on behind me, but I didn’t care. I was so tired of the same old questions in every same old interview and my virginity story wasn’t one that I was ashamed of nor regretting of.

“Well, her name was Y/N.” The Interviewer nodded as she waited and listened intently, letting me know that I could go on.

“We were both seniors in high school at the time and it was the night of our senior prom. It was really special actually, not like some other peoples virginity stories, you know? I genuinely liked her a lot.”

As I began to verbally elaborate on the exact night, I couldn’t help but let my mind wander and completely absorb me into that night.

-

We were both freshly 18 and so nervous as we laid on my bed that i’d happily snuck her into while my brother kept a helpful eye on making sure my parents or sister never saw me escort a girl into my room during the severely late evening hours. I remember the necklace around her neck -- some sort of locket that hung on a gold chain, perfectly dipping in between her cleavage, I found it so incredibly arousing as I let my finger tips brush the shadows her pushed up breasts made against her collarbones and she just simply smiled at me as I explored her, not even sexually, just more silently praising how beautiful I thought she was.

Although we hadn’t been together very long, I felt very strongly for her, I remember that a lot. I wouldn’t have called it love, but I wouldn’t have called it me simply just ‘liking’ her; she meant much more to me than that. While my hands silently explored her chest, all the way down to her ribs, I felt her slightly flinch, making me instantly pull my hands away from her. She reassured me it was just nerves and that she’d never been touched like that before, but it still made me go even slower than I had before as she confirmed to me that she wanted this, and more importantly, that she wanted me in that way.

I don’t think either of us were planning on having sex that night, or at least I wasn’t. Sure, I had thought about it, I was a teenager for crying out loud, sex was merely all that I thought about at that age, but I had never wanted to pressure her into it and secretly I was nervous as well. Everyone always said losing your virginity was a big deal and I wanted to make this special for her and for I, but I also could’t wait to have her, not when she was practically asking me to touch her so intimately.

Every time I’d move my hands over a body part that was seen as risky, I looked at her and every time she would nod, reassuring me that she wanted it and that it was pleasing to her, all the while her hands fixed themselves on the side of my head as she gazed at me sweetly. When it finally came for both of our clothes to be completely discarded, I was timid, mainly because of how visibly turned on I was, but who wasn’t when seeing a naked women, or person of attraction, for the first time in the flesh and right before your eyes. She didn’t seem to mind though as she lovingly traced the dips on my biceps as I hovered above her, in between her legs.

For the most part, we were both pretty quiet the entire time. I’m assuming that was due to the nerves we were both feeling and because we were concentrating hard on another and relishing this moment, after all it was something you don’t really forget about and are always reliving in your mind. Most cringe, some winch, even fewer smile when thinking back to losing their virginity which can either be from the experience in general, the person who they chose to do the act with, or a good combination of both, but I was determined to not let that be me. Regardless of my age and my lack of experience and maturity, I knew she was the right person that I wanted to spend this moment with. No, we weren’t in love, but that didn’t make this any less right feeling for me-i just hoped she felt the same as I did.

-

“What made you so sure you weren’t in love?” The interviewer broke me from my reminiscing as I flickered my eyes to her while I thought about the question.

I didn’t say anything, merely teetered my head from the left to the right as I nibbled on my lip, concentrating hard.

“Difficult question?”

“A bit, yeah”, I admitted as I enclosed my hands around each other and set them in my lap. “I guess--I guess i’m not sure. I wasn’t thinking about marrying her or anything, but I would’ve taken a bullet for her, gladly...” I shrugged my shoulders, keeping my eyes fixated on the ground, “...but we were both so young, are you even capable of feeling love like that when you’re that young? You haven’t even experienced real life yet?”

I was more so asking myself that question aloud, which is why I assumed the interviewer didn’t answer me, just sat and watched me as I mentally fought with myself over this relationship I had had when I was a young guy.

“I guess..I don’t know.”

“If you’d take a bullet for someone, that sure sounds like love to me. Just my opinion though.” I listened intently and held her eye contact for much too long as my mind began to wander again as I confused myself even further with what I truly felt for her. I wonder what would happen should I see her again - I’m sure she’s gorgeous, she was when we were younger so i’m positive she would be ten times hotter by now. Definitely would be married, no way could she have survived looking and acting like an a actual angel and not be taken by a man..or woman...or whomever held the key to her affection.

“Tell me about her. I’m curious to know your point of view of her.”

I thought back about how patient and caring she was; an exceptional listener and an even better advice giver. Again, I dove deep into my thoughts, recanting that evening again as I remembered her tender touches along my arms, over to my chest, and down to my stomach.

-

Carefully, she let her hand graze against my hardened cock, making me flinch in the slightest fashion as her eyes quickly flickered up to me. I told her it just felt really good, nearly whined for her to continue on with her actions, but I never wanted to pressure her or force her into anything. However, she read my mind. Her entire palm wrapped around my member, giving it a slightly and slow squeeze as I rolled my eyes to the back of my head. My breath was so heavy and so was hers as she began palming me; I assumed she had no idea how to give a hand job and I wasn’t in any mood to show her exactly how to, I just wanted her to do what felt right to her and her actions were enough for me right now.

My hips naturally pushed themselves into her hand as her eyes watched my face for my reactions; she seemed very confident already as she moved her hands down to cup my balls, rolling them around in her hand, making me let out a soft and audible moan. I heard her giggle, making me open my eyes which i’m sure were shot with arousal as I joined her in matching smiles.

“Does that feel good?” All I could do was nod as she attempted to keep up her movements before I forced her hand away as I could feel myself already about to cum.

“Is something wrong?”

“No! No, not at all. I just..” She could sense my embarrassment as I felt her hand brush up and down my back in a loving manor, immediately making me stop babbling on.

“Are you close?” I nodded, biting my lip as I rested my forehead against hers.; i’m sure she could feel the heat from my cheeks.

She smiled, almost devilishly -- i’d never seen this almost vixen like look to her, but I was quite enjoying it as she wrapped her legs around my waist, pushing my cock against her bare folds. We both exhaled, not realizing this position would bring on this sort of contact, quickly she loosened her legs around me, allowing me to back up just a bit.

“Do you-you know-do you have a condom or anything?” I asked with hesitance. I wasn’t lying when I said I wasn’t expecting this to happen and I was severely regretting not keeping that condom my brother gave me, in hopes that i’d save it for ‘my big day’ as he put it.

“I’m on birth control. My mom made me go on it when we started dating.”

I nodded and gulped, my nervous eyes dragging down from her eyes to her lips and then to her neck as I slowly moved closer to her collarbones. Although we hadn’t had any sexual contact prior to this, we had plenty of make out sessions that had started off as innocent kisses, and trailed into nearly dry humping, so I was no stranger to some heavy kissing and petting. Gently, I bit into the skin on her collar, making her wrap her legs around me tightly again as I kissed and blew the cold air onto her flesh. 

Her hands instantly went to my hair and the back of my neck as she let out small breathy moans while I continued giving her hickeys that i’m sure she’d have to cover up so her parents wouldn’t see, but in that moment I wasn’t worrying about that. I don’t think she was either as she began grinding her hips upwards, making our most sensitive areas graze and move against one another.

Our bodies moved like this for awhile, just enjoying the friction we were getting, until I could feel my orgasm close behind once again. I pushed my hips down into hers, ensuring that neither of us could move as I pressed my lips to hers for just a moment before we both pulled away, forehead against forehead, and just looked at each other, both thinking this is it. There was no more time to waste and nothing to hold us back now.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” She nodded, fast and quick, with a gentle and beautiful smile on her face as I too nodded and reached down to grab my shaft in one of my hands.

“Please tell me if you want to stop okay? I don’t want to hurt-” She pressed one of her fingers to my lips, shushing me. I pulled my tongue out between my lips and licked her finger in response, making her giggle.

She nodded her head at me, silently egging me to ‘go on’ as I slowly pushed my tip inside of her. I could’ve came right then and there purely from the tightness of her, but I held onto every last bit of strength I had so I wouldn’t. She was quiet and nervous I could tell as I whispered a soft “Relax babe”, into her ear. A nervous, but genuine smile graced her lips as I kissed her while moving a little bit more inside of her.

“You okay?”, I mumbled against her lips as she let out a small, but noticeable noise.

She nodded, moving her hips up to push more of my cock inside of her, making us both inhale sharply as I was now fully inside of her.

“Still okay?”

She nodded, “I want more.”

I nearly growled as I latched my mouth back onto hers as I began to slowly move my hips, causing me to move out and then back inside of her.

Our movements were slow and I didn’t last very long, neither did she. It was so innocent and probably god awful, in terms of skill, but it was so good right in that very moment -- I wouldn’t have traded it for the world, especially not with whom I got to spend it with.

Afterwards we were both so exhausted we instantly collapsed on my bed, piled in a mess of our limbs and sweat as we cuddled on my twin bed that was much too small for the both of us.

“Was I any good?” I asked with minimal confidence.

“I don’t really have much to compare it to, but i’d say that was pretty fucking good”, she giggled and giggled some more as my hands moved to her stomach as I began to tickle her.

It was my turn to press my finger to her lips, shushing her, “My parents are going to hear you.”

-

“I can still remember her laugh...it was so high pitched, but not annoying. I don’t know, it seemed to really suit her and it was one of my favorite sounds in the world back then.”

“Would you recognize it now if you heard it?” I watched as the interviewer attempted to hide a giant smile from her lips, making me look at her quizzically just before she turned her head, ever so slightly, over her shoulder.

I followed her gaze, looking at what was behind her: cameras, camera men, lights, and the woman from earlier. I watched as the woman nervously fiddled with the cuticles on her thumb nail, her leg was bouncing a hundred miles and hour as her foot joined in bopping along. Then my eyes trailed up her bare legs, admiring them, I wasn’t going to lie about that, all the way up to her face.

There was something there. A reminder of something, of anything...and then it hit me.

Although her eyes were covered by clear framed glasses and the glare of the light wasn’t helping either, I could see that glimmer; i knew that glimmer. It was her, I was positive now as I compared the mental image in my head to the real life, now grown women in front of me. Nervously, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear--I remember when I used to do that for her.

“I’ll take that as a yes..or maybe no?”

I flickered my eyes back to the interviewer, but only a moment later and my gaze was back on her. I was in too much disbelief to have my attention be anywhere, but on her.

“Yes. I would know it if I heard it.” My eyes were still glued to hers as she nervously diverted her eyes to her phone, attempting to clear her body of the nervous energy, much like the one we felt that night of our prom.

“What would you do if you saw her today?”

I thought about it, truly thought what I would do and what I would say. 

“I think i’d ask her to dinner. I’d love to see what she’s been doing since I last saw her.” I spoke the last part giving her my undivided eye contact as the interviewer announced that that was all the questions she had for me.

Suddenly, I wasn’t in my own little world anymore. Everyone began moving in the room, finding their places, jumping back into their jobs, and I was having difficulty bringing myself back to reality. I had just enveloped my mind in the girl, who was now a beautiful woman, who had stolen my heart in high school and now I had to jump back into my single lifestyle of living the Hollywood dream.

“Thanks Rami”, the interviewer smiled at me as if she had some little secret as she stood up from her chair and walked out of the room, chatting away on her phone. This gave me a perfectly clear view of her now. She still sat in the chair, much like I too was still in the spot i’d been in for the better part of an hour and we just looked at each other.

I smiled at her first, she returned it instantly as she bit her lip.

“So”, I started, getting myself up from the chair and walking over to her sitting form, “Can I take you out to dinner sometime?”

I watched as her hand gravitated towards her neck. Her small fingers began toying with the gold chain around her neck as I saw the familiar locket strung on the coiled material while her eyes glanced up towards me.

“I’d like that a lot.”

#Rami malek #Rami Malek x reader #Rami malek fic #ramimalek #rami malek fan fiction #borhap #the pacific #busters mal heart #mr robot

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

Baby (IV)

“I could’ve done good,” Baby grumbled, his chin in his palm as he sat on the white wicker chair next to Dean, in the outdoor cafe while Sam and Cas talked to the second witness. “I just needed another chance.”

“When the Priest asked you your religion, you made a joke about Vicecity.” Dean reminded, smirking a little because he could, and he was so past that stage. “You needed more than a chance.”

“I’m sorry, but they didn’t mention it in my finishing school for muscle cars.” Baby threw back.

“As if I did a thesis on witness-interrogation for my Hunting 305 class at community college.” Dean replied, but there was no sharpness in his tone. Mere humor. Baby made a sound that sounded increasingly like a whine, and Dean was satisfied.

“You really have no idea what you’re missing out on,” Baby suddenly said, all serious.

“What?”

“I mean Cas, Dean. Cas.” He repeated, turning his eyes back to the trench-coated angel, looking much shorter than he was supposed to, next to Sam, standing stiff and wide.

Dean could feel the impending lecture in the air. About Cas. About how he and Dean should solve their differences and like, get together or some shit. He’d gotten enough of those, combined with disapproving looks from Sam, on the nights they let loose and hung out together drinking. But before he could reply to that which wasn’t said yet, he was cut off.

Baby was talking about something else. “His wings, Dean. His magnificent wings.”

“What? You - you can see them?”

“No, but if you try hard enough, you can feel them.” He justified. “At least, I could feel them.”

Dean was quiet, because he knew the other wanted to keep speaking.

“When its just him in the back, like most of the time? He lets them sprawl over the seat. And I can feel it. Its a tingling feeling, but it’s there.” He paused. “He never sits on them, you know.”

“Well, one would think that he wouldn’t sit on his wings, right?” Dean pinched his eyebrows together.

“I mean,” He chastised. “It’d be so much easier, if he just folded them up or something. But, no. He never hurts them, he’d never ruin it.”

Dean blinked. “That’s…something.”

“That’s impressive.” Baby corrected. “And, of course you know, he’s so fast.” He let out a whistle.

The tone was different.

The almost reverent tone was replaced by admiration. Maybe attracted, even. “When he flies, Dean, he’s something else. I can’t see him, he isn’t in our dimension when he does it, but can’t you feel it too? Like, damn. That’s fast.”

Of course, Baby would like speed. That part was kinda obvious.

But Dean had thought about it many times before, too. He knew Cas was an angel, even though he not have even half of his powers anymore, and none of that personality. He knew his best friend had wings, he knew that he once flew. With the birds in the sky, maybe the aeroplanes even higher, through the clouds and through the skies, Cas had flown. Faster than all of them.

It was an exciting thought.

Now, though. Dean hurt as much as anyone else did when he thought of Cas’s lost wings. The loss of his ability to fly. He couldn’t imagine what that’d be like. It’d be even worse than losing Baby.

“And when he lost them,” Baby went on, almost in sync with Dean’s head. “I saw how he troubled he was. He had trouble sitting in all that place so empty, by himself. I was there all those moments that you were, Dean,” He paused, serious again. ���Maybe you were looking away but I wasn’t, and I saw his heart break each time something reminded him of flight.”

No, I was looking too. Dean wanted to say. But he nodded and made a sad noise in his throat. I just didn’t know what to say.

“I may just be a car,” Baby went on and Dean was surprised at the insecure, humble edge to his ever-confident tone. “I may not be a match for wings of any kind. But I swear, its not about being his wings. If only I could be his wheels.”

Dean listened, dumbstruck.

“That’s too literal a metaphor.” He almost choked on his own voice.

That’s my line. His eyes added.

“Well, where were you when he needed to hear that?” Baby challenged, showing protest with a mutinous lip. He jutted out his chin. “You had a chance of saying it to him.”

A dark cloud went over their conversation. Dean replied, prompt and frowning. “I blew it, okay? I added to his hurt, was a shitty friend overall. I blew my chance.” Dean looked away, away from Baby, and away from Cas, metres away. “And I couldn’t have said it as prettily as you just did either, so there.”

There was a moment of silence.

Followed by a rustle of fabric, and a hand on his shoulder. A hand, just a hand. But there. And giving him hope. Reminding him of home. Like the Chevy Impala ‘67 had always done.

“You,” Dean let out. “You’re really my car, aren’t you?”

“I’m your Baby, yes.”

“Well, Baby,” Dean said, in the same breath for the first time, sounding like he meant it. “Couldn’t you just have, like, given me those lines then? Through the speakers or something?” He smiled, bringing the focus back to lighter matters. “Been my wingman once more, like you’ve been since I started picking up one night stands at 18?”

“What can I say?” Baby smiled, and his fingers around Dean’s shoulder squeezed. “I’m just a car, Dean.”

“Just a car,” Dean repeated, mockingly. “Are you kidding me, Mister-really-sucky-puns?”

“Well, right now, I’m not just a car. Probably this time tomorrow, I’ll be one again.” He grinned, standing up. “I’m gonna go join 'em. You coming?”

“Are you,” Dean groaned, standing up. “Are you gonna use that line on him?”

“Well now that you’ve verified that it’s a good line, I’ve gotta, don’t I?” He smirked, back in his stride. “They say, there’s no such thing as a missed opportunity for a pick-up line.”

“You’re such a -” Dean rolled his eyes. “And I’m not even gonna ask who they is, because its probably 16 year old me.”

“Nah, you were 23.” He laughed. “At sixteen, you were not a hundredth as much of a 'player’ as you think. I should know.”

“Just go.”

Just go hit on my guy, and be done with it. Dean wished he could say it out loud, even in a joking tone, to the man - car - one who probably knew him the best, after his brother. But of course he couldn’t. That needed like many more years of character development before he could call Cas that out loud.

“And shut your face.” He added, because well, he’s Dean, son of John Winchester, isn’t he? “Don’t bother Cas too much.”

Rolling his eyes, Baby strolled off, smoothly leaving Dean frowning behind, with parting words of the most annoying kind. “You wouldn’t kick my ass or anything even if I did. Sure, he’s Cas. But I’m still your Baby, and you’re kind of a sap so you love me too.”

Dean swore under his breath, and to not give him the pleasure of having won the round, determinedly didn’t respond.

**

Dean walked towards the decided restaurant, a small-ish place, which probably didn't serve too much alcohol. Beer, though, would definitely be available.

Well, it would have to work, wouldn't it? Because he sure as hell needed some booze in his system to get through this evening.

This date.

With Cas. And Baby.

He didn't even know why he was doing this. He could've said no - well, theoretically, at least. He could've spent the night at a bar, instead of this diner. With strangers he'd forget the next day - instead of people who actually meant something to him. Maybe even back at the motel, where Sam was, forcing Sam to watch crappy TV with him, instead of look for more cases.

But here he was.

He pushed open the door, the fluorescent 'Open' sign swinging as he did, and looked around for familiar faces.

His eyes found Cas, sitting by himself on a table for four, doing absolutely nothing except looking at the squeezy ketchup bottles, arranged neatly on the table.

Dean sighed, as he made his way over to him. He'd noticed Cas had his trench coat off, but the rest of him was the same. He looked good, of course, but not as though he dressed up for a date.

Of course, Dean hadn't done anything either. It'd been a randomly spontaneous decision to shave at six in the evening, or replace his old red flannel, with a slightly less worn green one. Of course.

A flicker of a thought went through him, as a scene went through his head. He'd once gotten Cas - Steve, actually - dressed up for a date. (More like dressed down, but okay.)

Well, Cas clearly hadn't remembered any of it. Sure, the obnoxious blue vest was absent, but the blazer and tie was pretty much his uniform. Not a Gas 'N Sip uniform - kinda like his custom hunting attire.

In any case, the buttons were all done, all the way to the second, and the collar was fairly formal with the tie blocking any sliver of skin, which may otherwise have been visible.

No big deal. Dean too had folded up his sleeves, for just the heat.

"Hey," Dean sat down across Cas, and the latter looked up at him. "Reading the ingredients of ketchup, are ya?"

"No," Cas smiled, wider than the joke was funny and deserved. Dean was pleased, and he instantly mirrored it. "I know what tomato ketchup is made of."

"Vegetables," Dean clicked his tongue, and winked, referring an older joke, of a simpler time. Cas nodded, remembering surely, and there was quiet for a moment.

"Where's," Dean cleared his throat, and forced the warm comfort of this setup - with Cas - away, with his next words. "Where's Baby?"

Cas shrugged. "He's not been with me for a while now."

Dean blinked. "But -"

"He had something to attend to." Cas recalled.

"He's my car," Dean narrowed his eyes, suspiciously. "What business would he have, something that he couldn't ask me - or you, or Sam - for?"

Cas was surprisingly relaxed. He didn't even have his squint on. "I don't know, Dean, but nevermind. At least you're here."

Dean succeeded in not blushing, but it was a heroic effort.

Sure, he and Cas had some unresolved tension, going for pretty long now; but blatant lines and declarations was not their type of gesture. He was not used to Cas softly looking at him, and telling him that he was glad Dean showed up to their date. This was not up his alley.

"Heh," He stammered. "You hungry? I sorta am. I'm gonna go order, alright? Will get you whatever I have, minus the pie and extra cheese."

Cas began to say something, seemingly to tell Dean that there was a waitress around who'd take their order, but Dean was on his feet and on his way to the main counter.

He leaned on it with his elbow, and did not look back at Cas, lest he should lose it and freak out again. He waited his turn, while the lady spoke to another customer.

It was in another moment, and when his eyes fell on a clock that showed twelve past seven, that a strange thought struck him.

Why wasn't Baby here yet? Fashionably late doesn't really fit into this scenario, of having a diner-made dinner with 2 guys you just hunted vampires with, supposedly a date.

Could it be that - and Dean melted against his resolve and stole a glance at Cas, who wasn't looking at him anymore - Could it be that Baby set them up?

Was he gonna ditch them for the entire evening? Was this - was this a whole plot to get Cas and him on a date?

Okay, Dean was probably overcalculating the facts he had, and overinterpreting. But, the idea suddenly seemed fitting. Why else would Baby not be there? Why else, would he invite Dean to a date, for him and Cas? Why else would he insist on his coming too? Why would -

Wait - what if he was right?

What then?

Dean bit his lip, and the lady behind the counter, in a waitress's uniform and a customer-service smile, finally turned to him. Dean stammered over his order, his head swarming with a million possibilities.

Even their table now seemed like it was a table for two - probably two considerably large men. But two.

She told him that he could go sit, they'd get the order to the table.

He nodded weakly, paid with a tip, and turned back to get to his table.

He was all prepared to propose his theory to Cas - live up to his name, and make the already awkward situation more so - and gauge his reaction. Hell, he was kinda prepared for a full evening, just with Cas. Who knew? Sometimes Dean's courage surprised him, and most of that was around Cas, for obvious reasons.

But as soon as his eyes trailed up to their table, he was stumped.

Baby was there.

He stared, his jaw slack and eyebrows raised, more disappointed than he'd ever admit aloud. In the matter of minutes, it was as if he’d gotten his hopes raised. Baby was right there, sitting next to Cas, squeezed into the same seat as him, their shoulders touching, talking in his usual animated manner.

"Welcome back," Baby greeted Dean with a toothy smile, as Dean took his spot. "Sorry I'm sorta late."

"Yeah," Dean wondered if he'd have trouble hiding his disgruntled frown, but he forged a small smile and was good. Cas certainly looked more satisfied and settled now, with Baby's arm slung around him - well, around the seat, but that was like the oldest trick in every guy's playbook. "Where were you?" He asked, instead.

Baby shrugged, to avoid answering the question. Dean furrowed his brows and was about to repeat and prod, when Cas spoke up. "I think we were both beginning to wonder if you wouldn't come."

A smug smile spread across his face. "Oh, no. I wouldn't miss this, for the World." He gestured with his eyes, at the other two. "And not show up? What do you mean, like, you thought I invited you two on a date and ditched y'all?" His eyes fixed on Dean's. "Set you up, or something?"

"No," Dean began to protest, the lie ready on his lips.

"Don't worry," Baby leaned back, probably even leaned more towards Cas. As if there needed to be any less distance between them. "I wouldn't do that kinda stuff. Like, I'm personally into this thing you two have going, but I'm not gonna meddle and make the move for you. You do you."

Dean rolled his eyes, while Cas looked more surprised.

"If you wanted to be worried about getting set up, though," He added. "Keep a lookout for Sam. His shipping is getting out of control, I heard Charlie say once. He could do this sorta thing, where he invites the both of you to a movie and then makes an excuse for himself."

Dean glared at him, while Cas pursed his lips. "That happens. Often. Dean and I watch the movie, because Sam has great taste."

Dean wished the floor would open up and swallow him. "Uh-huh," He managed, flustered.

"And what, you dumbasses thought it was not a date, because?"

"Because it wasn't." Cas clarified, perfectly serious. "We didn’t ever call it that. We didn’t do date-things. It even ended with us going to our own rooms, and not with a kiss." Cas spoke, in an adequately soft voice, as if somehow Dean wouldn't hear it then.

Dean face-palmed, wondered what he'd done to deserve this, and the blood rushing to his cheeks made his blush prominent. "Goddammit, Cas." He had half a mind to get up and depart, but it’s not like the other half of his head would ever give in to such a sane and healthy decision.

"Oh, hell yeah," Baby laughed, throwing his head back. Both Dean and Cas’s eyes flitted to his bared neck and collarbones, with as much haste as they returned to each other, almost shy of being caught in the act. "I’m even more excited about this date now!"

**

And so, the evening went on. Stories were exchanged, and it was a light-hearted meal. Cas and Baby sat as if glued at the hip, and Dean ate more aggressively any moment he thought of it. There were bad jokes all around. Some more food. They didn’t budge away from each other. Dean got over it slowly. Okay, that was pretty much a lie. At one point during the date, Dean couldn't take it anymore, and spoke up before he could shove those words down his gut like he’d been doing all evening.

"You realize this is a kid-friendly place, right?” He looked up at them. “I mean, you can stop sitting like there's no space left in the entire diner." He crossed his arms across his chest.

It was true. They together fit in the seat, which Dean could fill all by himself, if he tried or spread his legs.

Cas, almost curiously, looked at Baby - their faces unbelievably close - and the bastard shifted obligingly - probably an inch though. "You're right." He agreed, earnestly. He shuffled another inch. But only that much.

"Hey, I don't mind," Baby cajoled, and looked mischievously at Dean. "But, if Cas does, I could always sit next to Dean instead."

"Don't even," Dean growled back.

"Well!" He threw his hands up, in mock exasperation. "There's no other spot for me to sit? You want us move to a larger table for dessert, Dean?"

"Just pull a chair." Dean rolled his eyes. “Sit on the third side.”

"Good idea." Cas agreed, and the way he looked at Dean, so completely sincere and genuine, that Dean had to blink a bunch of times and look away, defeated. What was it about these two that made him go wild?

"Like, sit in the middle?" Baby whined, eyeing the spot. "But, I'm not really the middle in this relationship, am I?" He added, wickedly.

There was a moment of silence.

Dean swallowed, his eyes strained on his plate.

Baby went on, his tone an edge of flirtation, with slick humor. "Why doesn't Dean shift to the middle, huh, Cas?" Cas shrugged, and Dean thanked any luck he had, that Cas hadn’t said ‘good luck’ like the last time - because he’d go nuts.

"Your thoughts, Dean?" Baby winked straight at him, and for a moment, Dean's eyes flickered between Cas's and his faces, wearing opposite expressions but somehow synonymous, and you know what? This was probably how a stroke felt. He could swear his chest hurt. 

"You can fucking sit on top of each other, you jackasses." He hissed, through his teeth, dedicating all of his attention to the food in front of him, as he drank his beer obstinately, from the bottle.

"We might," Baby led with a wink, again. "But is that a yes, on being in the middle?"

Jesus Christ.

Dean Winchester regretted all of his life decisions that led him here. Everything. Every fucking little detail, that had brought him here, on a motherfucking date, sitting across the two most gorgeous men he'd ever laid eyes on. One, too damn straight-faced, the other the goddamn opposite. It was a deadly front, and Dean was terrified for himself.

Yeah. He regretted every damn thing he'd ever said, which had brought him here, and conveniently landed him the butt off all the bottom puns possible in this scenario.

“I’m gonna throw my fucking plate at your face, you son of a -” His voice rose with every syllable, until Baby was laughing again - smug-faced and satisfied, like the look he always got when Dean reacted out to something he pulled. Dean, a pissed scowl on his lips, continued to glare at Baby, who doubled up laughing each time their eyes met. Cas looked at Dean, and only Dean. A dedicated tilt of his head.

There was a slight tug at the corner of his lips. Dean knew he’d lose it if Cas ever outright smirked at him - but this was enough to fluster him. “But why?”

Huh, so the sonuvabitch understood.

Dean passionately glared back, and it was enough to make Cas crinkle his eyes into an iconic smile, all dimples, gums and crowfeet. So, at the end of the day, it wasn't Dean's fault he was rendered speechless, and incapable of retorting. It was Cas's.

**

Tagging @hellodean-sam @moderatelypanickedbisexual @love-nakamura @casbiotic @blazeeblake @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @lykanyouko @victorian-sexstache @crack--attack @johnlockshire @kitsuneharo12 @emilydakitten @midnightmarauder3 @eyesofatragedy67 @malevolent-dean @skeletonsinzeeclost @awkward-penguin-in-a-trenchcoat @demonsofhunting @american-phycho @insomniac-with-a-juice-pouch @gigisfavourites @sammyimpala-67 @ain-t-bovvered @fictionfucker @adventurous-blob @styggtroll @petrichoravellichor (helped me choose) @iamcharliebradburylevelperfect

Has this gotten too weird? Tell me to stop, and I will. If not, mwuahahaha, here I come, more date scenes! Also how do I make Baby go back somebody got any ideas

Thank you for reading! ALSO I HAVE TO SHOW YOU SOMETHING @lovenakamura MADE! BASED ON BABY #1

THANK YOU, I AM SO FLATTERED YOU MADE THIS ♥️

#supernatural #destiel #castiel #deanwinchester #dean winchester #i wrote a thing #casdean #fanfiction fluff destiel #sheya shall deliver #deancas #writers on tumblr #destiel fluff #impala #destiel fanfiction #implieddestiel #destielforever #baby as human #chris pine #sub!dean #dom!cas #dom cas #destiel date #supernatural s9 references #supernatural crack #destiel crack #not spoilers #spn crack #destiel art #fanart #destiel fanart

[killiansbutt]

Hello, I love your writing. Can you please do #14 with the Uni prompt. Also I submitted a prompt request last week, and I don't know if you wrote it and I missed it, or if you haven't gotten to it yet. I hope that didn't sound rude or that I'm rushing you. I'm sorry if it does.

Hey, friend! Do you remember what your request was? I have a few still waiting in my inbox that I haven’t written yet… If you let me know which one, I can bump it up though and no worries, it’s not rushing me, I definitely need a kick in the pants sometimes anyway! ♥ If I did post it though, you can check here. 

Extra long one for making you wait for your other request! 

title: Are You Still Watchingpairing: nalurating: K+words: ~2100summary: Lucy needs a break from her overbearing father. What better way than watching Netflix over someone’s shoulder at the library? (prompt from here)

Her father has Lucy on a leash even halfway across Fiore and it’s a little unsettling to the outside eye to see that he calls her the exact second glasses are supposed to end with a demand worded as a request. He only lets her go to school, really, so he can flaunt the fact that his daughter was getting a business degree to take over for him. Something to brag about to his friends.

It was strange, really, how she went from only worthy of marrying someone and granting him a grandson to the actual heir to his business. She doesn’t quite know which one is better, really, because at least as a baby-making machine she was left to her own interests, as far as though interests didn’t interfere with matchmaking. 

Now, as an adult, she’s stuck under his thumb worse than ever and it’s only the creative writing classes that keeps her going. Maybe it’s not polite to admit she’ll skip out from under his thumb and out of school the moment she can’t take them anymore, but she figures if he can bully her into attending school, she can damn well take a class she actually likes.

She’s in the library now, her phone stubbornly buzzing on the desk in front of her, and she feels a trickle of exhaustion creep over her. Her day is class, business with her father, and then falling asleep in her bed – only to wake up abruptly at the reminder of all the homework awaiting her, but she digresses. The most important part of her wandering thoughts: she’s tired. 

She picks up her phone, scribbling a message to her father. 

Father, I will be studying at the library for an important upcoming test and unable to attend the lunch with Mr. Everlue. Please send along my apologies and well wishes. 

 It’s a lie in only the smallest test. She does have an upcoming test, just not for a few more weeks and that gives her plenty of time. She feels a little bad for fibbing, but when he sends his reply back – formal, but as positive as he could get – she can’t feel anything except relief. She has a whole afternoon to herself. The first in ages, perhaps. 

Except… 

What do people do with their free time?

A man with shocking pink hair laughs obnoxiously, earning a jab and a shush to the gut from a friend sitting beside him. Both are sitting at the desk across from her, their backs to her, allowing her to only see pink hair and black hair. “Ouch, don’t hit me, stripper, this is my computer!” The one with pink hair says. 

Stripper scoffs. “Natsu, you’re the one who is going to get us kicked out. Do you really want Erza to come over here?” 

Pink haired man – Natsu – seems to acknowledge the threat as they both share a shiver, looking back at the computer. Natsu shifts a little, getting comfortable, and she can see his screen now. She doesn’t recognize what it is, but she can see a television show playing and she leans forward, hands resting on her desk, to peek at the font playing across the bottom of the screen. 

She can see some of it. Just not enough, but the flashing images of the crime show they watch is entertaining even without the words. She can’t see names or dialogue, but she can read between the lines and she builds a story up herself, leaning forward in her seat to watch closely. 

Minutes, hours, days later, the one named Stripper stretches and she pouts when they shut off the show. It had just gotten to a good part and she wants to know what happens to the detective and her new, supernatural consultant. “Try not to be late for class, Flame Brain.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Natsu grumbles, beginning to pack up his laptop and she gaps at his features. His messy pink hair is natural, of all the strangest things, but more than that, he’s actually handsome and Lucy rarely thinks that about anyone, certainly not the people in her social circles. She can’t tell how tall he is, but she can see his muscular arms as he puts his things away with long, graceful fingers and though he has a splattering of scars on his arms and one on his cheek, he’s got a happy grin on his face despite his words, one that makes him all the more handsome. 

She’s still staring when he looks up, seeming to sense the eyes on him, and a mental yelp escapes her as she darts her gaze down to an opened notebook in front of her. It’s only when his chair scraps and his footsteps disappear that she lets out a breath, cursing herself for falling into such a deadly trap as ogling. 

His eyes are definitely the best part, a lively green, and only a split second of eye-contact led her to believe that he had little to no secrets in them. Like she was looking into his soul. 

She slaps her heated cheeks, willing the blush to go down, but it’s not like she’ll ever see him again. There’s no reason for her to worry so much about what he might think of her. 

That’s what she thinks until the next day when she sees him again. He’s watching what she now knows is Netflix, his friend noticeably absent and his feet propped up on the chair across from him.  She sends a text to her father, not even bothering to wait for his reply as she takes a seat near him; she can read the subtitles now and she conceals a smile, using her textbook as a shield. If he chances a glance, she’s just coincidentally looking in his direction, she’s definitely not borrowing his laptop screen for entertainment. 

And, really, she thinks it’s a little ridiculous that she’s doing this. It would be easy to purchase Netflix and watch it herself – but there’s a certain thrill in watching it with someone else. He gasps when something happens and her mind races to imagine the music that must accompany a scene. When he snorts, she has to bite her lip to hide a smile. She nearly ruins the whole thing when something bizarre happens to the consultant’s brother and a giggle spills from her lips.

His gaze shoots to hers, but she’s already holding her phone, pretending to skim a message that makes her laugh. He can’t see that it’s blank, she knows, and he turns his gaze back to the screen in time to see an explosion, one loud enough to mask her gasp of surprise. 

It continues like this for several days, though the actual events take place over several weeks. Her test is nearly upon her and she has to sacrifice some of her library time to actually study, but when she sees him at his usual spot, sans laptop, she figures that she isn’t missing anything. It’s funny, really, when she realizes that he seems to only watch this particular show in the library because it always seems to start exactly where it stops the day before. She pretends its for her, but she knows that it’s just a lucky break. 

They are nearing the finale for season one and she bounces with excitement three days after her test. Campus is starting to wind down for the term and she just knows that he’ll be in the library to watch the final episode. He has to be because she’ll need another excuse if he isn’t – her father only let her escape today when she told him she was speaking with a teacher about the year. 

She enters the library, making a beeline for her spot. Generally, he’s already there, doodling in a notebook while his Netflix loads, but today, his chair is suspiciously empty and she frowns, footsteps slowing to a trudge. Maybe she’s early? Lucy really doesn’t know his class schedule – she doesn’t want to either, she’s not a stalker, she’s just… pretending to have a friend, which is even more pathetic than stalker, in her opinion.

She settles into her chair to wait. It’s a Wednesday and loathe as she is to admit it, she knows enough about his classes to say that he’s always here on Wednesdays. 

So where is he?

Ten minutes pass, then thirty, then an hour, and then two hours. Her time is running out and her foot bounces with impatience and worry. She wants to say it’s for missing out on the finale of her show, but it’s really worry over him. Had something happen? She hopes not and wracks her brain for some news on campus, but she rarely pays attention to events unless her father wants her to reach out to the community and he hardly does.

Perhaps he watched it already, she thinks, her worry fading to annoyance. She shouldn’t be, because he doesn’t know that he can’t watch it without her, but surely he knew. On a subconscious level at least! She’s well into her own thoughts when he finally stumbles into his chair and she’s standing up before she knows it, marching over to him.

“Did you watch the finale already?” Lucy asks sharply, hands on her hip. “What the hell, Natsu?”

Natsu blinks slowly at her, his laptop sitting on his desk, and it’s only when a sudden grin blooms on his face that her anger drops like a ball, disarmed by the genuine happiness on his face. She swallows, face flushing as her words replay in her mind. 

“I mean… That is… if you’re…” Lucy stutters, pressing a hand to her cheek. He’s laughing now, the type that makes someone want to join in, but all it does is make her cheeks redder. She’s possibly resembling a tomato now. “Umm, I’m just going to go now.” 

“No, wait!” He stops her, taking her wrist gently and she lets out a breath as sparks dance across her skin at the contact. She lets him tug her closer, her fists clenched to hide the trembling in her fingers as he kicks the chair next to him out. Natsu fingers trail down her wrist to her hand almost absently when she sits down, as though he isn’t aware that her heart is stuttering at the contact. “I was waiting for ya to say something, can’t believe you waited till the last episode to introduce yourself. Kinda rude, if you ask me, you’re basically acting like a leach, but it’s funny when ya try to pretend that ya weren’t watching.” 

She rubs her cheek with her free hand. “You knew? Since when?”

“Third episode, it was too much of a coincidence to see you here again, looking at me that way. And also you’re book was upside down, I figured that wasn’t normal,” he admits almost sheepishly. She can’t figure out why until a pink tinge appears on his face and she realizes that third time was, quite literally, weeks ago. 

No wonder the font was bigger after that or that he was sitting differently, his shoulder no longer blocking a quarter of the screen. He knew she was watching – and he made it easier. 

Lucy pulls her hand free to hide her face. Secretly, she’s a little pleased that he didn’t mind, but the larger part… “I’m so embarrassed.” 

Natsu laughs and she peeks out from between her fingers to study her face. Though his cheeks are still slightly pink, there’s happiness on his face. “Nah, now we have the best meeting at this school. You’re a stalker, I’m an enabler, see? Perfect.”

“That’s not a good thing!” 

“Eh, let’s not worry about specifics then. Let’s watch this last episode already.”

She peeks at her watch. “Don’t you have class?”

“Nah, that’s why I was late. Volunteered to meet my teacher early so he had less people to handle today. Didn’t think the meeting would take so long, woulda been better off just going to class. At least we finally got to meet though!” He’s awfully chipper and his good mood is contagious enough that she smiles back at him. “This friendship is off balance, by the way. Ya know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

It’s not a subtle, but then she doesn’t think he’s a subtle person. His words and action thus far are proof enough of that.

“I’m Lucy. Lucy Heartfilia.” She sticks out her hand, but he slaps a pair of headphones into her fingers instead of taking it. She blinks, puzzled, but then he points to his laptop. 

“Now you can hear their voices. Better late than never, eh?” His laptop is shut, but he opens it; Netflix is already open, the episode waiting for them. She scoots her chair closer, pushing the headphone in as he hits play. 

Natsu watches her carefully with a heat that makes her heart flutter, but as the music of the opening theme hits her ears for the first time, Lucy finds herself smiling. 

#nalu #fairy tail #fynalu #ftfanfics #ficsforvera #mine #nalu ff #Anonymous #my fic