#IT WAS LIKE IN RESPONSE TO A STUPID FE TAKE AND THEY WERE LIKE ''oh of course op is ace lol'' LIKE WHAT

[storytowrite]

Love Untold (OT8 x F! Reader)

Chapter 2

Paring: Felix x reader Genre: fluff Warnings: swearing, mention of burn and knife Word Count: 1,665 Masterlist | Love Untold Masterlist

Due to the work of your parents, you are forcet to constantly move. However, this time moving houses let to interesting and unusual events. You met 8 handsome boys at school and somehow you managed to move in with them. How will your fate go?

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Still dazed by the events at the library, you decided to hook your thoughts on some other activity. So you looked at the electronic school guide and entered the extracurriculars tab. You scrolled through the long list for something worthy of your attention, but nothing seemed interesting enough until you saw the sign "cooking classes".

You have always liked to cook, but at home you did not have such an opportunity, because the servants always prepared everything for you , and as soon as you approached the kitchen, there were at least 3 people who were ready to fulfill your every culinary craving.

Some people would think it was a great option not having to do anything, but for you it was a nightmare. You felt like a prisoner of your own home, unable to do anything you wanted.

You looked at the class details and luckily for you class was today. Only you had to hurry up, because they were starting in 3 minutes, and you didn't even know where a suitable room was. You turned the navigation on and ran to the indicated location.

Out of breath, you rushed into the classroom where class had already begun. Of course, drawing the attention of everyone inside. You apologized for being late and explained to the teacher that you were new and didn't know how to get there.

The woman gave you the sincerest smile you've ever seen and looked at the list that lay on the counter.

“Please join Felix, you will both be responsible for the dessert. Today, I guess, brownies are what we make.” She said and pointed at a blonde boy standing at the sink washing his hands.

Only now, after taking a breath,  you did feel the beautiful scents floating in the air. Fresh vegetables, spices, sweets mixed together creating a symphony of scents that you loved and desired so much.

You walked over to the boy you were paired with and tapped him lightly on the shoulder to get his attention. But you didn't expect him to hold a knife in his hand.

The boy quickly turned to you with the knife pointed straight at you. The sight of the blade near your stomach made you take a few steps back. Of course your luck wanted you to fall over and bang your head on the table behind you.

“Aish.” A hidden curse escaped your lips. You grabbed your head and tried to massage the sore spot.

"Oh my God. Are you OK?!" The worried boy asked, putting the knife in the sink.

"Everything's alright. I'm used to it. That's what it's like to be clumsy from childhood.” You smiled, not genuinely.

Suddenly you felt warm hands on your head. You looked up and saw a boy kneeling in front of you and gently massaging the sore spot on your head.

The sun's rays bathed his perfect skin, accentuating the lovely freckles on his cheeks.

You felt that strange feeling in your stomach again, like butterflies flying in it. You couldn't take your eyes off his eyes, his mouth, his nose. You carefully studied every inch of his face.

"Better," he asked, pausing massaging your head. "Hello? Can you hear me?" He continued waving his hand in front of your face when you didn't answer his first question.

You shook yourself with a blush on your face. How stupid did you get stuck staring at a guy who doesn't even know your name?

“Uh...Yeah...Sure. It's better now." You replied and got up from the ground. This time being careful not to hit the same spot a second time.

“I'm Fe..”

“Felix, yes I know.” You took his word for it.

"How do you know that? Did you stalk me out?" The boy smiled sweetly.

     Only then did you realize how stupid that sounded. You see a guy for the first time in your life, and you don't even let him introduce himself properly and you burn out with his name, which you actually had no right to know, unless you seriously stalk him somehow.

“No..I..I..No..I..The teacher told me your name…” Your face turned raspberry red again.

"Haha, I could have guessed. You have nothing to be stressed about. Tell me sweetheart, what's your name?" He was trying to calm you down a bit.

“My name is Y/n,” you replied, folding your hands in front of you, trying to take up as little space as possible so no one could see you.

"A name as beautiful as its owner," he said happily, looking at you curiously.

"Oh…umm…thank you, I guess." you flinched again, you thought your face was about to melt, you felt a huge heat rush to your cheeks.

Just when you thought you were about to do something stupid, the teacher broke the awkward silence between you two, announcing that it was time to start the class.

Felix immediately went to work, washed his hands again and went to get all the ingredients you needed.

"Have you ever made brownies before?" He asked, handing you a large bowl.

"Never had the chance." You tried to hide your anger whenever you thought about the service. Most people would probably be happy not to have to do anything in the kitchen, but you were terribly annoyed. You are eighteen years old and you were treated like a five-year-old. "But I've always wanted to make some cakes." You added, painting a shy smile on your face.

"That's great. I'm a brownie expert. Everyone, who tried it, said it was downright addictive and they want more," he replied, bringing the rest of the ingredients to the counter. "Let's start with making the dough first, you have all the proportions here and you can start." He replied and disappeared behind your back.

It wasn't that difficult to prepare the cake, although you were tired by the heat that filled the room. The fire blazing from the burners, the heat of the ovens and the temperature of everyone gathered made you feel exhausted. You wiped the sweat from your forehead, pouring the chocolate mixture onto a baking sheet and putting it into the preheated oven.

“Now all that's left to do is wait.” Smiling and proud of yourself, you turned to the boy who was currently washing all the dishes. Hearing your voice, he turned to you and smiled sweetly.

"What happened? Do I have something on my face?" You asked, trying to wipe your mouth.

“You're covered in flour...May I?” he asked in a lower-than-usual voice.

His voice made your whole body shiver. Unable to utter a single word, you nodded.

Felix stepped closer to you and slowly placed his hand on your cheek. You felt that strange feeling in your stomach again. Your face brightened and your lips slightly parted. When the boy started to run his thumb over your cheek, trying to remove all the flour, you involuntarily buried your face in his hand. You closed your eyes and gave yourself to the blissful feeling.

“All done.” He said and removed his hand from your face.

A faint, almost inaudible sound of disappointment escaped your lips. You quickly came back to your senses and thanked him.

Waiting for the brownie was mercilessly hard. Especially when the whole room was filled with the sweet smell of chocolate. Saliva pooled in your mouth until you thought you were drooling.

Fortunately, not long after that, you heard the timer chime. You quickly ran to the oven and without thinking too much, opened the door and grabbed the pan.

“Aaaa…fuck!” Flew out of your mouth. Faster than you put your hand in the oven, you took it away. In a moment the teacher and Felix were right next to you.

The boy looked at you, holding your hand, with worried eyes. Grabbing your wrist, he dragged you to the nearest sink. He turned on the slightly cool water and slid your hand under the stream of water. He didn't pour water directly on the burn, just a thin trickle of water, poured over his fingers.

You looked at the visibly worried boy who looked almost angelic. Your heart sped up. You felt no pain. For you, everything around has stopped. It was just you and Felix. His protectiveness towards you made you irresistible.

"Better?" You were snapped out of your dreamland by a boy's voice.

“Yyyy…Yes.” You replied. When you regained full consciousness, you saw the whole group staring at you. You quickly removed your hand from his grip and ran out of the room without saying a word.

You ran non-stop until you reached the parking lot in front of the school. You took your phone out of your pocket and called Sebastian. You stood somewhere in the shade behind a tree so no one could see you.

You didn't wait more than 15 minutes until a black luxury car pulled up and your butler came out. He opened the door for you and invited you inside.

“Hard Day Miss Y/n?” He asked as he left the school.

“You could say that,” you replied shortly, leaning your head against the glass and staring out the window. You stared up at the colorful sky, lost in thought.

Y/n what's wrong with you? You were supposed to stay in the shade in this school, but you probably fell in love with two boys on the same day. Ugh… stupid heart. Why are you so credulous?

It wasn't long before you were back at home. You thanked Sebastian and ran to your room. 

You threw yourself on the bed to take a break from all these strange situations when you realized that you ran out of the room so quickly that you didn't take your things.

You slapped your hand against your forehead, breaking down at your own stupidity and inattention. You knew you'd have to go to that class again tomorrow to get your books back.

<;- Part 1 | Part 3 ->

TAGLIST

@nobody3210

#lee felix #stray kids #skz reactions brake up #lee yongbok #skz felix #y/n x Felix #skz reaction #sad #y/n breakup with felix #felix angst #felix lee #skz masterlist #skz smut #skz imagines #bangchan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #felix #seungmin #han #jeongin #fem!reader #skz fanfic #stray kids reaction #stray kids polly #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x reader #bangchan x reader

[kellyscowboy]

Consider!!!! Queens being hella pissed after jack takes all that money and tells them to disband the union after literally begging for their help and they ain't gonna let the deed go unpunished so they find some of the Manhattan newsies to soak to send a message to jack that actions have consequences

stop it rn omgomg. i'm thinking dave finds him up in his "penthouse" before kath does and it goes a little bit like this:

cw: cussing & fighting

"What the hell's the matter with you?" David shouted, shoving a finger into Jack's chest.

Jack angrily shoved the other boy away. "Go away, Dave."

"No. You don't get to run away. You don't get to screw us all, take your money, and get your dumbass happy Santa Fe ending."

"You think I'm gla-"

"Shut up!" David all but screamed. "Do you know what happened tonight? Right after you left with your stupid fucking money; Queens beat the crap out of us!"

Jack went quiet, the weight of his actions drowning him. David didn't stop. "You can't just do that, Jack. No, not to Queens. And I can assure you, they made that pretty damn clear. You can't beg a turf to go out of their way, to lose their money, to help you and then just bail on them."

Dave chokes on his words, and Jack wouldn't have thought he had cared about them that much. "You know how I found 'em?" He doesn't wait for a response. "They were sitting in an alley, just a clump of practically lifeless bodies. You would've thought that a morgue had come and dumped some unclaimed corpses right there in the middle of that alley. Racetrack didn't move, not even when I tried to get him up. Honest to God, Jack, I thought he was dead."

"And Elmer was sitting there, and you know what he was doing? He was clinging to his rosary and he was pleading with God. Now, I don't know Elmer as well as you do, but I do know that he doesn't have the greatest relationship with the church. You know how desperate you have to be to plead with a God who hurt you?"

"You're not gonna believe this, but that's not even the worst part. The beatings aren't even close to the worst part. What's worst is that all of them are blaming themselves. And all of them are sitting in the lodging house waiting for you to walk in and fix their wounds, because that's what you've always done. The worst part is that they're all defending you with every broken bone in their body. And that's awful because it's all your fucking fault, Jack!"

Jack fell into David's arms. And David doesn't shove him away, he takes him into his arms and begs him to fix things. Because David isn't mad either, he wants to be mad but he can't be mad because he's making excuses for Jack too. All Jack can do, for at least a couple of minutes, is sob into Jack's shoulder.

-

SO SORRY FOR STEALING THE ASK LIKE THAT LMAO. honestly the idea ignited something in me bc oh my god like the angst?? i can't!! also imagining any of the boys telling him. racetrack telling him, all beaten up and sore. ugh im dead

#anon this was everything #this idea #like went deep inside of me #i just imagine that if that happened #david would be LIVID #like all of the fear and anxiety gone out the window #because it's jacks fault and he's the one that gets to run away because he has the money npw #anyway #jack kelly #david jacobs #racetrack higgins #elmer newsies #livesies #newsies 2017 #newsies #˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ newsies // blurbs ❥

[lumalalu]

i think if u ignore the sexual and/or romantic orientation of characters who are canonically aro/ace youre a bad person

#like i dont get why its 'different' #esp from media that has a good track record w representation like. #itd be one thing hcing a 'bi' character from fe as a lesbian instead bc u KNOW theyre not rlly meant to be bi #theyre meant to be an open romantic option and not actually queer rep #like obv theres grey zones of COURSE i know this but if the character in question LITERALLY rejects the notion of romantic love whenever its #brought up then shes fucking aromantic and you should respect that #LIKE. IM SO MAD ABT THIS IM SO MAD. #ugh i also saw ppl falling for a fresh ace troll blog and like Really? in 2021? #fucking morons. you are all awful people and i hate you >:( #U WOULDNT MAKE A TRANS CODED CHARACTER CIS WOULD U. A LESBIAN A BI PERSON. LIKE COME THE FUCK ON. #WHATS FUCKING WRONG WITH YOU. #god the troll blog thing is STILL.. #ALSO LIKE. SOMEONE SAID SOMETHING SUPER PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE IN A DISCORD SERVER IM IN #IT WAS LIKE IN RESPONSE TO A STUPID FE TAKE AND THEY WERE LIKE ''oh of course op is ace lol'' LIKE WHAT #WAS EVEN THE POINT OF SAYING THAT YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE. #ari angry about aphobia today. #im genuinely so fucking mad why are our struggles always seen as unimportant or lesser or god fucking forbid FUNNY #GOD. GOD! #same with being nonbinary tbh #im so frustrated #i was super eyerolling abt the superstraight stuff bc like #the Community's doing a fine enough job of ostracizing me already #certainly didnt need any help in that department #negative #anyways taking dusa away from u all until u learn to Respect Aromantic People and the Characters that reflect us #fuck you fuck you FUCK you..... fuck yoiuuuyuiiy. #dusa qpps w zag im Right im objectively correct #LIKE SHE SAYS THAT. IN GAME. SHE SAYS IT. GOD IM SO MAD. #its not about video games i only get mad abt video games in a cool and sexy way #its abt how we're not allowed to exist

[peachycheol]

| reliable |

© banner credit: thank you to the love of my life @suhdreams​ for making this banner for me 🥺💘 ➸ summary: when people say ‘not all men’, they’re actually right. kim mingyu, your best friend, would never disappoint you. especially not in the bedroom.  ➸ genre: pwp 😌 ➸ pairing: best friend!mingyu x reader  ➸ warning: dirty talk, slight dumbification, heavy petting, unprotected sex (pls use protection irl), cream pie, oral (fem. receiving), cum eating, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, yn is really horny? ➸ w.c: 3.2k ➸ tags: you can all thank @risquewonu​ for this <333  

➸ author’s note: ahh, i’m sorry this took me so long! i didn’t mean to write this much, but what the smuth wants, the smuth gets. also, i want to thank you all for 100 followers! i’ll make a separate post to properly thank you all, but i am!!! baffled!!! i really appreciate the support ;u; love you guys! 

If there are two things in this world that you are absolutely certain of, they are: 1) Men ain’t shit, and 2) with the exception of Kim Mingyu. Knowing this information doesn’t really benefit you in any way. You still go out on Tinder dates that leave you high and dry 15 minutes after taking you home. And Kim Mingyu is still your very platonic best friend, who seems to be reliable in every single way except perhaps in the one way you need most desperately. 

But for all you know, he could be just like every other male in bed. He couldn’t be unbelievably handsome, the most thoughtful, caring person you know, and a sex god; it just wouldn’t be fair! No, it is much easier to convince yourself that Mingyu’s perfection only extended to being a best friend, if only for your peace of mind. Otherwise, you’d have to live with the possibility that the only person who can give you sweet release is the only one you’re technically not supposed to fuck. 

For reasons that seem to become annoyingly hazy every time you lie down next to him on his bed, just as you are at this moment. 

The two of you often end nights out like this, scrolling through one another’s TikTok’s until the wee hours of the morning, laughing loudly until his neighbors threaten to file a noise complaint. As someone who has claimed him as your best friend for three years, you know you’re supposed to be used to the smell of the musky cologne that clings onto his sheets and the feeling of his warm body as he leans closer to show you his For You Page. But lately, it seems harder and harder to fight off the warmth that pulses straight to your core whenever he does anything as simple as laugh, making you shiver when his breath tickles the side of your neck. 

God, you just really need to get laid properly. You lick your dry lips and try to remind yourself that you have no idea if Mingyu would even be able to satisfy you. Though you do have to admit you couldn’t imagine any situation where the boy isn’t overly generous and eager to please-- No! Just watch the damn TikToks! 

“Hey, you good?” Mingyu suddenly asks, nudging your side. “Why aren’t you laughing? ‘His package needs to come in the fe-mail’! That one’s gold!”

You let out a snort. Leave it to Mingyu to bring you back to reality with one line. Even when you don’t say a word, he knows exactly what you need in a moment, which in this case is a reminder that he’s your very dorky friend. “Shut up, that’s so stupid,” you say, but you can’t help but laugh along with him when it replays.

“Aha, you laughed though.” Satisfied with your response he scrolls down to a video of a girl smiling suggestively into the camera. She points to the caption that says ‘If all the boys that made me cum were in my room with me right now, I would…’ Suddenly, the camera pans and she looks at the screen tiredly. The caption now read as ‘Be alone. Men are trash’.

At this, you bust out with a howl of laughter, clutching at your stomach. It was kind of sad, but it was good to know you weren’t alone in this world. All the while, Mingyu stares at you with an eyebrow raised. Once you calm down, you meet his amused gaze. “What are you looking at?”

“You thought it was that funny, huh? It’s not even that accurate,” he says teasingly. 

You roll your eyes. “Um, yeah it is. I’ve never met a man who could make me cum, and clearly many other people can relate. This video has 1.4k likes!”

Mingyu quickly puts his phone down and pouts. “Nu uh! Not all guys are that incompetent!” 

“Men are such babies,” you sigh. “They are that incompetent! You know how many dates I went to last semester, right? Not one of them made me cum!”

“Okay, I told you before you even went on those dates that those guys weren’t worth your time.” Mingyu waves his hand dismissively. “For your information, I have made sure that all the ladies that I’ve taken to the bedroom had at least one orgasm. At least!”

“Mingyu, sweetie,” you coo, patting his cheek as if to comfort him. “They were all faking it, because they didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”  Right? They all had to have faked it. You try to tell yourself this, try to reign in the last bit of sanity you have before your mind wanders off to anywhere inappropriate.

Your best friend now props himself up so that you could properly see the smirk plastered across his annoyingly chiseled features. “You’re so sure, huh? I bet I could make you cum multiple times. Easily.” 

Your mouth falls open in shock. It isn’t uncommon for the two of you to taunt each other like this, but you have also never been in such a vulnerable mood. It’s the type of mood that has your heart racing impossibly fast, the type of mood that has your panties pathetically damp from just one sentence. You blink, trying to regain as much composure as you can. You know it’s too late, though; your imagination is already flashing through scenes of your deepest desires, all being fulfilled by the man in front of you. But Mingyu is only joking, so you do what you can to continue playing along and pretend like you don’t want him to just fuck you into the mattress until you were drooling into his sheets. 

“I-I seriously doubt that!” you say, but there is no conviction in your voice. Clearing your throat, you try adding, “Dude, I’ve literally seen you fall down a flight of stairs when you were sober. And we were going up. Kinda hard to imagine that you’ll know how to fuck me to an orgasm when you can’t even walk right.” 

Now you’re just lying through your teeth, but you want to hold off the inevitable moment that Mingyu discovers your apparent arousal for as long as possible. The last thing you need right now is for him to laugh in your face.

Mingyu chuckles, then suddenly shifts so that his arms are placed on either side of your head, trapping you underneath him. To his surprise, you do nothing to push him off like you usually do at this point. Still, he doesn’t plan on being the first to back off, so he continues his little game, intent on winning. “See, this is why you can’t find a guy who can satisfy you. You clearly don’t know what to look for.” He leans down until the tip of his nose grazes yours. For good measure, he drops his voice an octave and says, “You’ll be the one who can’t walk right when I’m done with you.” 

Perplexingly, his shameless flirting doesn’t make you move as he predicted. Nor does it make you look annoyed. Instead, you look up at him with eyes that are unmistakably glazed over with something he didn’t quite expect to see: pure lust. It immediately sends a rush of blood down to his cock. He blinks. Oh. So this is where the night is going. He only falters for a moment, but he soon flashes a breathtaking smile down at you, his eyes glinting mischievously. 

 It isn’t like he’s never thought about it before; he had just assumed that once you started calling him your best friend, you were also lowkey telling him that sex was off the table. And it wasn’t like he minded, because he definitely liked being by your side knowing it was fully okay to be himself since you were obligated to love him regardless. Plus there was just something about you that made him want to take care of you and if being your best friend was the only way he could do it, then that had been fine by him. But now that he knows that he can take care of you in another way, in the way that he sometimes found himself yearning for on lonely nights, he is all too eager to break free of the unspoken boundaries between the two of you. 

“And what am I looking for?” you whisper. 

“It seems like you’re looking for me, baby,” he responds softly, before pressing a kiss where your jaw meets your neck. He slowly drags his lips down the side of your neck, and revels in how it already has you pressing your legs together. “Damn, you weren’t kidding when you said those guys didn’t make you cum, huh? Is that why you’re already so fucking worked up? You want to cum that badly?”

You nod wordlessly, not quite ready for Mingyu to hear the desperate whine that would surely leave your lips as he continues pressing wet kisses along your skin. You opt to simply thread your fingers in his hair and tug hard enough to show your impatience. It seems to trigger something in him; all in an instant, your best friend’s soft lips clash against your own, his tongue easily sliding into your mouth, all the while while his hand reaches down to grab one of your thighs. He squeezes it teasingly before pushing it outwards, which causes the mini skirt you’re wearing to bunch up around your waist, revealing your panties and how they cling to your pussy like a second skin. 

“M-mingyu!” you squeak into his lips when you feel his fingers tentatively rub small circles into the wet spot. He nips at your lip harshly as he starts to rub more deliberately, the flimsy fabric of your underwear creating a delicious friction against your clit. “H-hah! Yes, o-oh my god!” 

“Fuck, you’re already so wet for me, baby girl,” he chuckles, but he knows he isn’t one to talk while his cock is half hard just from hearing the way you moan his name. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you. You’re not leaving this room until your little pussy cums nice and hard on my cock.” 

“Ngh!-- yes p-please! Please, Mingyu,” you beg mindlessly. Your eyebrows are scrunched together in concentration. Despite your best friend’s promises, you are still hesitant to hold out any hope for anything more than what you’re accustomed to, so you try to take as much as you can while it lasts. However, in your lustful daze, you had forgotten that if Kim Mingyu is anything, he is a man of his word. 

 You let out a high-pitched moan when his fingers suddenly grind harsh circles into your clit, more surprised than anything else that he even knew where to find it. “But first,” he says, licking his lips, “you’re going to be a good girl and cum just like this. Right into your filthy little panties. Can you do that for me, baby?” 

He takes your drawn out whine as a response, and continues to rub relentlessly over your hardened clit until your legs begin to shake. That’s when he shoves the soaked material of your underwear to the side and pinches the bud. Hard. 

He rolls your clit between the pads of his fingertips over and over, sending jolts of electric pleasure all the way to your toes. It causes them to curl, all the while you feel the heat simmering in your lower abdomen finally coil tighter and tighter. “Fuckfuckfuck,” you chant, the words coming out slurred like you’re a teenager who’s gotten drunk from one sip of champagne. “M-mingyu-- mmh! I t-think I’m going to--!” 

A loud cry leaves your lips the moment the coil snaps, and you nearly tear up from how much better it feels to finally cum on someone else’s fingers, especially Mingyu’s long, thick digits.  He soothingly slides them through your drenched folds, mesmerized by how much wetness now covered his hand. “That’s it, baby,” he encourages. Once your body slumps back into the mattress, he brings his fingers up to see how they glisten in the light. “We’ve barely even started and look at what the mess you’ve already made. You must have been waiting so long for me to fuck you, huh?” 

Not even your post-orgasm buzz can keep you from getting irked by Mingyu’s cockiness, which is why you reach your own hand down to squeeze his cock through his jeans. “Seems like I’m not the only one who’s been waiting for this,” you say with a sly grin of your own. He watches you, jaw clenched, as you swiftly pop the button of his pants open and slip your fingers past the waistband of his underwear to take hold of his fully hardened member. 

It feels warm and heavy in your palm, which can barely wrap around the girth. You bite your lip, your pussy greedily clenching around nothing at the thought of how good it would stretch you out.

“I should have known you’d be a fucking tease,” Mingyu rasps. His hips buck into your hand involuntarily, and his smile returns when he notices how the movement makes you whimper in anticipation. 

There is a beat of silence when you and Mingyu meet eyes before the both of you begin undressing each other as fast as you can, haphazardly tugging off both your shirts, his pants, and your pesky undergarments. Once he’s tossed aside your soiled panties, he immediately presses your thighs apart to get a full view of your sopping cunt. “So pretty,” he mumbles to himself, spreading the lips apart with his fingers. His member throbs at the sight, the tip leaking precum when he sees how your pussy clenches in anticipation. “I bet it’s going to look even prettier when it’s taking my fat cock, don’t you think?”

The two of you watch in awe as Mingyu starts to sink into your entrance, a garbled moan leaving your lips when the tip alone already has you feeling so full. “Mingyu, h-how is-- ooh!-- your d-dick soo-- f-fucking big? A-Ah!” It takes a good while for you to finish your sentence as each of Mingyu’s shallow thrusts leave you gasping for air. By the time he bottoms out, the both of you are panting hard, both engrossed by how snugly his cock fits in your walls. 

“Shit, if I had known you’d be this tight, I would have fucked you sooner,” Mingyu groans. He slowly drags his member out of you, letting you feel every inch of him before he surges forward into a feverish pace that already has his bed frame creaking loudly. He is definitely getting a noise complaint from his grumpy neighbors tonight. But seeing you underneath him like this, lips parted and legs spread, definitely makes it difficult to care about anything other than the desire to hear more of your needy cries. “Does it feel good, baby girl? Do you like how my cock fills your little pussy?”

“It fuh--!--ngh, feels s-soo good,” Having already came once, your sensitivity is on overload, and each rough thrust of Mingyu’s hips, each crude slap of his skin against yours, is enough to drive you closer and closer to delirium. “Mmh-- please, Mingyu! F-fuck me so deep!”

“Anything for my little cockslut.” He moves quickly to kneel between your legs, hooking his arms underneath your knees to keep them open as he continues to pound into you. The new position instantly makes you keen loudly, eyes rolling to the back of your head when you feel his member brush against your cervix. 

“Fuuuuck,” you sob and clutch at the sheets. His grip on your legs tightens and he angles his hips so that he hits that spot every time, rendering you completely incoherent. You want to beg him to fuck you like this forever, to tell him you’d do anything to feel his cock fuck you open every night, but you can only babble, unable to comprehend anything that isn’t the insatiable thirst burning within you.

“Damn baby, did I fuck you stupid?” Seeing you so drunk on his cock, he wonders how anyone could ever fuck you without wanting to see you cum over and over again. His hair falls over his eyes as he fucks up into you with renewed vigor, his hot skin covered in a light sheen of sweat. He grits his teeth when he feels how tightly your walls grip onto him.“Shit-- you must want me to make you cum again, baby girl. Your little pussy just keeps sucking me in.”

“H-hah, y-yes! Yes, please god, Mingyu, I want to c-cum again. P-please let me cum,” you beg, practically writhing as you pathetically attempt to meet his thrusts. Without any hesitation, Mingyu brings down his thumb and presses it into your swollen clit, causing your body to seize up suddenly. “A-Aah Mingyu! I’m--!” The intensity of your orgasm has your back arching off the mattress, head thrown back in a silent scream. Wave after wave of pleasure continuously washes over you, seemingly unending, unlike any orgasm you ever thought possible. 

“That’s right baby girl, get my cock nice and wet,” Mingyu growls. He fucks you through your release as he sloppily chases his own, not too far behind with how your walls are pulsing around him. He makes sure his cock is deep inside you and stills his hips when fills you with his hot cum. “Fuck, this pussy was fucking made for me.”

Just as you think you’ve finally come down from your high, he pulls out of you and he shifts to lower himself to place his mouth on your spent pussy. “M-mingyu!” 

You squirm and half-heartedly try to shove his head away, far too sensitive to have his tongue licking into your leaking entrance, but Mingyu is persistent. He pushes your legs to your chest to keep you from squeezing them close, and hums when he tastes the hot mixture of your and his own cum on his lips. The way he slurps and sucks at your folds is absolutely sinful as he eats you out like you’re the most delectable treat. It almost hurts to feel so much ecstasy at once, but it still leaves you mewling for more, unable to get enough of the boy.

Your third orgasm ripples over you when he suddenly scrapes his teeth over your abused clit, and you feel a tear slide down your cheek as you weakly shake against his mouth. 

Mingyu is smiling when he pulls away, looking slightly ridiculous with how his lips still glisten with cum. You tiredly slump back into his pillows, eyes already drooping close. “What is it?”

“I told you I could do it~” he says proudly. He goes to grab some tissues from the bedside table so that he could start cleaning you up, giggling all the while. It really is unfair how he could look so cute moments after railing you into another dimension. 

You groan. You’re never going to hear the end of this.

#seventeen smut #mingyu smut #seventeen scenarios #mingyu scenarios #mingyu fanfic #svt smut #m:kmg #l:os #g:pwp #listen tumblr it would be fantastic if this worked in the tags the first time #pretty pls

[cerise-angel]

Rumor - Na Jaemin

College!Jaemin x Reader

Genre: Fluff, a little smutty, Coffee, Shower stuff, Bad roommates, cliché as hell.

Word count: 2060

Hi everyone!! Believe it or not I've been wanting to post this ever since Hot Souce, and finally I'm doing it! Let me know what you guys think, and yes I'm currently in NCT Dream hell.

Anyways, hope you enjoy it!

Constructive criticism is always apprecciated!

Sorry for any spelling/grammar errors, english is not my first language.

Thanks for reading!

The photo is from his IG, the editing is mine.

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

Working on Saturday mornings really did piss you off. First you had to wake up at 7am, walk for about 10 quarters, change into that stupid skirt and apron and deal with your not so happy boss. You held back the urge of rolling your eyes when said boss came to talk to you.

“Table 04 is full. Is the kids from your college I guess?”

You looked into Table 04 direction. Oh God.

“Can’t someone else go? I’m kind of busy with the dishes.”

It wasn’t a lie. You really were cleaning the dishes. Ok you were almost finishing but there were other employees who were free and could have already went to Table 04. Your boss gave you a bored look.

“They asked for you.”

Shit. Feeling anxious you finished the dishes, trying to take the longest time. It took quite probably only 03 minutes though. You dried your hands on a cloth and tried to control your nerves before leaving the kitchen and heading for Table 04.

“Welcome to Cactus Coffee. How can I help you today?”

You voice sounded anxious and meek, and you hated yourself for that. You looked to the floor not being able to look at him in the yes.

“Good morning, Y/N. You should really wear skirts more often.”

You looked at Donghyuck and gave him a sarcastic smile. You really hated these uniforms, and you had asked multiple times to wear pants instead of the skirt, but your boss wouldn’t let you, because “it was against the franchise rules”.

“Yeah, you should too Donghyuck. Ready to order?”

He laughed at you, clearly enjoying.

“I want a medium latte.”

“Cool. You guys?”

Slowly all the boys ordered. A milky green tea for Mark, a cinnamon cappuccino for Jisung, a vanilla cold brew for Renjun, a strawberry Frappuccino for Jeno and a flat white for Chenle. You were almost leaving, relieved that he hadn’t talk to you, when Na Jaemin, oh so softly, tugged at your skirt.

“I want a white mocha please.”

You felt all the boys’ eyes glue to your face, waiting for your reaction. Your cheeks started to warm up and your palms and armpits to get sweaty. Jesus Christ. You answered back.

“Cool. Please don’t touch the skirt.”

You left as fast as you could, hearing Chenle’s and Donghyuck’s laugh at your antics.

Is not like you had a major crush on Jaemin. Is not that you hated him, or that you two had an unresolved romance. It would be a lot easier if you two already had a romance to start with. The thing is, you two had someone in common. Your roommate who was hooking up with Jaemin.

She never really tried to have a friendship or just a nice convivence with you. Since you moved to her apartment, she basically only talks to you to ask about the bills, or to ask you for help in Math. You cared a lot about it in the beginning, having tried multiple times to show her that you were open to her, initiating talks, baking cakes and all. She never really seemed to give a shit, so you stopped trying.

Things got even weirder between you two, on Thursday, while you were having a shower, Jaemin, thinking you were your roommate walked in. And you two had a shower together. And your roommate arrived and basically saw Jaemin drying your hair in the living room. And then she accused you of being a whore and three minutes later the whole campus thought that you had fucked Na Jaemin on the shower.

“Shit.” You muttered when you realized that you had done Jisung’s order wrong, for the third time. Thinking about what happened and trying to make a coffee clearly didn’t match. One of your coworkers, Ami, who knew about the whole story, came, like an angel, to help you.

“Y/n, I got this. You can stay at the dishes today if you want?”

You nodded smiling. Ami was really great at reading people, and since the whole bath situation she was helping you every time Jaemin, or one of his friends, or even your roommate came to the coffee. You stared at the clock in the wall, there were only more 2 hours to go. You could handle that.

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

When the clock hit 1 pm you were free. Staying at the dishes meant closing the coffee, so you took your time while checking the cashier, taking the trash, turning the lights off and making sure no one had puked in the bathroom. Slowly you took off your skirt, putting on some jeans and a sweatshirt. You sighed.

You didn’t want to go back to your dorm, to see your roommate who would so nicely, call you a bitch and leave. You two weren’t close before that, but this was even worse. You also didn’t want to stay at the park, since the last time it happened Jaemin appeared out of nowhere and you had to leave, simply because you didn’t know what to do.

Finally closing the door of the coffee you cursed at him.

“Fuck you Na Jaemin.”

Different of what your roommate thought, and what the whole campus thought, you and Jaemin did nothing but to actually share a shower. You kept thinking why in the world you didn’t kick him out when he got in. But he looked so soft and nice and he said you smelled like strawberries and washed your hair and you really couldn’t argue. It was a very nice shower.

“I���m sorry.”

You let out a small shriek when you heard his voice. Your brain was screaming “GO HOME” and that’s what you planned on doing. Except he tugged at your blouse, and you froze on place.

“I really should not have invaded your shower that day. And I should also have told your roommate that we didn’t do it, and the whole campus.”

It was true. The minute your roommate called you a whore, Jaemin stood up and left, leaving you alone with her screaming at you. You felt angry and ashamed.

“Yeah, you should have.”

Jaemin sighed.

“Can you please look at me? I’ve seen you naked already there nothing to be embarrassed of.”

That’s when you snap. You turn to him, anger filling your lungs and veins before you speak.

“I can’t look at you and there’s nothing to do with me being embarrassed or whatever. You literally went to my apartment every week to hookup with her, and then out of nowhere, for your fucking mistake of not asking who was in the shower, she hates me, to the point she told to fucking move out! Plus, the whole fucking college thinks I’ve slept with you and did that like a bad person, since you were sleeping with my roommate. I’m not embarrassed I’m fucking mad.”

Jaemin’s eyes widened after your sudden rant. The moment his mouth opened the talk back, started to rain. You didn’t move tho. He was complaining you didn’t look at him, well now you were. And now he was the one looking at his feet, embarrassed.

“I didn’t hook up with her every week. It was one time, and then in the morning you helped me to use the airfryer and, God, that’s literally the only reason I kept going back. I wanted to see you. I wanted to touch you. It was heaven to me every time you were around, and she wasn’t there to try to kiss me. I gave you all the possible hints, how the fuck can you be so oblivious?”

Now your eyes widened. You had notice that lots of times Jaemin would come before her. You two would watch some TV and eat nuggets. Sometimes he would flirt with you, or softly touch your knee, or play with your hair. But that was just the way he was to everyone, wasn’t? You looked at him, and now he was pissed. You looked at your shoes, rain starting to pour heavily now.

“Fuck, lets go to my place.”

“What? No. You go to your place, and I go to mine, goodbye.”

Jaemin grunted, pulling you closer to him.

“Your place is 10 blocks away, mine is 2. Stop being so fucking stubborn before you get hypothermia.”

You held back your words. He had a point.

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

His place was quite neat. You took your soaked shoes and he gave you a pair of slippers to walk around. Jeno was in the living room. You blushed.

“Jeno, I’m going to shower. Y/N too.”

Jeno only nodded, too fixated on the videogame to even listen properly.

You followed Jemin into his room, and after you close the door you spat.

“Im not going to shower with you again Na Jaemin. Don’t even think…”

He kissed you. His warm, soft lips were begging for your response, and after some moments you gave in. He sighed relieved while his hands descended to your waist pulling you closer against him. God if he could merge your body with his he would.

You put your hands on his chest, trying to get some distance so you could think, process and perhaps talk, but Jaemin wasn’t interested in that, pushing you against the door, pressing his warm body against yours.

You couldn’t resist anymore, so you finally put your hands on his shoulders, softly bringing them to his neck, then tugging at his hair. Jaemin moaned, pleased.

“Shower.”

You said softly, when his lips left yours. He nodded, hugging you and walking sloppily to the bathroom. His bathroom smelled like fennel soap, which you weren’t expecting. Jaemin slowed down, turning the shower on, and helping you get undressed. You felt your whole body getting hotter when his hands traced your spine.

“I’ve seen you like this before but is such a blessing that I can see it again.”

You had sure your legs had turned into slime at the very moment, but somehow you managed to keep yourself straight. Jaemin smiled at your flushed face and gestured towards the shower.

“Let me turn it on, it has a little secret to get warm water.”

You giggled. Jaemin turned on the shower and pulled you closer to him, below the hot water. His skin was a little cold, and in a bold moment, you decided to hug his back. You pressed yourself against his skin, feeling a little feverish. Jaemin felt goosebumps run through his body, and turned in your embrace, facing your glossy and now wet face.

Jaemin kissed you, softly and slowly, as if he were testing the waters. You put your hands on his neck, pulling him even closer, and he did the same, wrapping his arms on your waist. You started to feel dazed, the heat of the water and Jaemin working on you. His hands were everywhere, on your breasts, your waist, your back, your ass. Slowly, you started to do the same, touching him, gluing your lips to his neck, moaning his name.

You touched his member earning a low grunt in response. His hands went back to your ass, rubbing and squeezing it.

“Do you want to fuck me in the shower?”

Jaemin smiled, nodding eagerly. His hands, oh so slowly, made their way to your thighs, picking you up. You two were so close to actually doing it, then he slipped.

“Oh shit, shit.”

Jaemin dropped you, in a desperate attempt to not fall on his ass. You started laughing, and helped him to steady in place, admiring how adorable he looked frustrated, with his ears becoming hot red, and his face in a shy smile. He hugged you close, laughing with you.

“I think, we could just have a shower first.”

You agreed still smiling.

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

“GODDAMN IT JAEMIN!!”

You felt Jaemin smiling before even looking at him. So, after you failed attempt of shower sex, you both had a slow hot shower. And the hot water kinda ran out. Jeno had finally discovered, which made him curse Jaemin.

“Should we do something about it?”

You asked turning on the bed to face him.

“Not really on my plans.”

“What is on your plans?”

Jaemin gave you the most satisfied look, his hands finding the way to the hem of your newly put on shirt.

“You.”

----

Thanks for reading!!

#nct #nct dream #nct jaemin #na jaemin #jaemin x reader #jaemin x y/n #jaemin x you #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct dream college au #nct dream fluff #jaemin fluff #jaemin boyfriend #nct fanfic

[greenygreenland]

Dream A Little Dream of Me: Norman x Reader (part four)

-part four because I couldn’t fit everything in part three-i went overboard, I’m sorry

-please enjoy I worked a month on getting this out, haha. it is a labour of tears and love.

---->PREVIOUS PART <-----

Summary: You need your memories back. But how will you get them?

Gracefield House

Not a single soul moved for what felt like centuries. The moment Ray, Gilda and Don arrived at the scene, it was clear that nothing else could be done. Mama smiled at her children viciously. She wasn’t here to play nice any longer. Today, she was the hunter and her children the prey.

“It was a clean break. She will recover smoothly,” Mama curtly announced. “And Norman?” You didn’t like the way she looked at him, or the way her grip seemed to tighten on your limp arms. Her gaze dangerously narrowed and she said, “Your shipment date has been set.”

Your heart stopped. Norman’s shipment date had been set? No, that couldn’t be. Your plan required at least another week until everything fell into place. Norman was the core of it all. Without him, what would you do?

And speaking of which, he was going to die. Die. Die. Die. He was going to die.

You squirmed in Mama’s grasp, hoping--praying that you could maneuver around this. Norman wasn’t going to die. You wouldn’t let him.

“Let me--let me go!”

It was reckless and it was stupid to think he’d be able to evade Mama’s sight just like that, but you had to try.  Didn’t Emma say you’d all leave here together?

“Norman--!”

He blinked as if he’d woken up from a long dream. He forced himself to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. Don’t struggle.

Don’t struggle? How did he expect you to sit around and do nothing? If anyone should be shipped out first, it should be you. Why? Because you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you let any of your family go.

Mama glared down at you with a cold smile. “You can’t fight me more than you can stop the sun from setting,” she said, heaving you higher off the ground. Your leg hit Mama’s arm and a cry escaped your lips. Norman flinched and Emma stood frozen in place.

You were always the strong one, not Emma, not Ray, and not Norman. Because you were one of the eldest, it was your responsibility to be the shoulder to cry on and to stand when no one else could. To see you holding back tears and gritting your teeth tight enough to make your gums bleed made Norman’s little heart break.

He didn’t care about his shipment date. All he wanted was to see you safe.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of faces, voices and regrets. The sharp pain in your leg long faded, leaving only a dull throb that stayed as a reminder of your failure. Yes, that was what you were, right? You couldn’t complete the plan even with Don, Gilda and Ray distracting Mama. You were pathetic. A waste of space.

The door creaked open and you sat up a little straighter. You smiled at the trio as they entered the room. “Hey guys.”

“How are you feeling?” inquired Norman. He took a seat by your bedside and gave your hand a gentle squeeze. Ray pulled up another chair. He hid his face behind his fringe to conceal his grim frown. It didn’t work though, and you merely smiled at him. He huffed irritably, as if he didn’t want you to know he worried so much.

“I didn’t think she’d go that far.” Ray quietly muttered. You knitted your brows together with a absentminded shrug. “And to think I was that close to getting her watch.”

Emma’s shoulders sagged. “I wish I had--”

“It’s fine Emma.” you said with a warm smile. “Broken bones heal, it’s not permanent.” She wrapped you in a tight embrace and you rubbed her back comfortingly. It was hard to look her in the eye anyway. The sadness she tried so hard to force down only added to your guilt, and you weren’t sure if you could think straight with all the regret.

“I’m sorry this happened.” you began. “Now that I’m hurt, you’re worrying for me.”

Emma pulled away as Norman gave a firm shake of his head. “None of this is anyone’s fault.” he stated. "None of us saw that coming, and even if we did, I’m not sure we’d be any good outwitting Mama on the spot like that.” He offered a gentle smile that made you feel just a little bit better.

-----

(University name), DAY TWO

Class went by rather quickly today, and maybe that was because you were sure you’d seen similar material before. Each answer came easily along with each mark on your paper like a memory from long ago. You’ve answered harder questions, much more difficult tests that held more weight than a simple grade.

“I was impressed by your extensive knowledge on world history,” said Mr. Baker. He was the world history teacher. Unlike the others, he was young, perhaps in his mid twenties. In the hour you’ve gotten to know him and the class, you’ve come to realise he’s a class favourite. For good reason, too. His jokes were phenomenal, the material entertaining, and the atmosphere, friendly.

It was like having a conversation between friends rather than teacher to student.

“Do you know what school you went to before you came here?” he inquired. You shook your head. “No. I don’t think I went to any school before this actually...but I’m not sure. I wish I knew, sorry Mr. Baker.” He offered a warm smile. “Maybe my jokes will remind you of something. In the mean time, don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’ll remember eventually.”

Eventually. You didn’t want to remember ‘eventually’. Living a life of ignorance was difficult as it was, why should you continue it? You adjusted your grip on a notebook and said, “See you tomorrow Mr. Baker.”

“Same to you, Letha.”

The cafeteria wasn’t hard to find. Students crowded in the hallways, pushing and shoving as they stuck close to hurry towards for their meals. You didn’t care much for the food. There wasn’t any way it could measure up to your, or Gramps’s, cooking anyway.

“Letha!”

You spun around as much as you could in the congested hall. Flanna raised a hand above her head and waved. She didn’t even try to hide the fact that she was looking for you. “Letha, you comin’?” There was no way out of avoiding the red-head. She had too much energy, and an eerily observant eye hidden under her smile.

“Hello to you too, Flanna.” you said, matching her step. Flanna grinned brightly. “Are you excited for lunch? My first day here, I thought it’d taste terrible. You’d be surprised how good it is, but maybe that’s because the school’s expensive.” She let out a snort that was lost to the chatter of the crowd.

The cafe wasn’t all too big. Despite the long tables stretching out across the floor, and the high ceilings and tall windows, it felt small. Crowded. The sheer amount of teens gathered in one area was daunting, scary even. It made your head spin, and your stomach lurch in disgust.

Was this what everyone dealt with every single day? How could they do it? This was madness.

Flanna patted your shoulder and led you towards the lunch line. “You get used to it after a while. Can’t say I have, but it’s not so bad.” She handed you a cup of fruit from a large cooler. You watched as she did the same and instructed the lunch lady on exactly what she wanted.

You copied her. It was all you could do to prevent embarrassing yourself.

Once you found a table, a long sigh left your lips. “That was actually...a bit stressful.” Flanna chuckled good-naturedly. “Oh, I get it, you’re shy, aren’t you? I had a friend like that back in ninth grade when I still lived in the countryside. Couldn’t even go in line without help from me.”

“What happened to that friend?”

“Moved away. Lots of people do. They like the city because it’s “full of opportunity”.” Flanna rolled her eyes. “I think it depends on what you want. I’d prefer a quiet life where all I have to do is take care of a farm. You know, sheep, chicken, cows. It’s easy because the only person who’s your boss is you.”

Flanna clearly didn’t favour modern life as much as her peers. She went on about the difficulties of technology and how they were “nothin’ but trouble” for simple folk. You couldn’t say much about that, but you wish you understood.

The rest of the day went by in a flash. It turned out, your last three classes were with Flanna. She didn’t talk as much in class, but she asked you a lot of questions about why you knew so much. Of course, you couldn't remember, but she didn’t know that. She didn’t know who you truly were.

FIVE MONTHS LATER

The setting sun illuminated the sides of your face as you glared at the frosty grass below your winter boots. You stood outside, wrapped tightly in your thick, fur coat. It was Gramps’s daughter’s before yours, so it smelled like him. The forest. A cosy fireplace. Hot chocolate. It did little to comfort your aching heart, and maybe that was because a part of it was still missing.

Standing in the last rays of sun reminded you of that boy with light hair and kind eyes. It reminded you of his touch that refused to leave your mind. He was scorched there like an emblem on wood.

“So why can’t I remember you?” Your words were lost to the harsh, frosty breezes. “Who are you to me?” He wasn’t family, that much you knew, nor a friend either. He was much more. Much closer to your heart than either of those.

-----

This wasn't a massacre. It was the shambles of a bloody war.

The remnants of limbs and broken bones lay strewn across the throne room, where pools of crimson stained the tile flooring with its iron stench. Part of you wished you hadn’t opened the door, and another said it was your fault for letting everything get this far.

Would you have been able to stop Norman if you ran faster? If you had stopped him earlier?

Your stomach flopped and turned. The smirk painted on Norman’s lips wasn’t right. It wasn’t him. He was satisfied, not with the massacre, but with how perfectly his plan had been executed. It played out like a game of chess. Each pawn he sent out had been eliminated, leaving only the most powerful pieces on the checkered board.

“I’m sorry,” Norman said. “It’s too late (Y/n).”

He wasn’t sorry and he sure didn’t feel an ounce of guilt for lying to you. Or at least, that was what you wanted to believe. Every fibre in your body screamed at you to run at him, slap him to the moon and back, or beat him to a pulp for lying and cheating you all. Yet you couldn’t do it. Not with the way he kept his eyes to the floor.

“I’m so glad you made it back safely,” he added. “It’s a shame you were a little too late.” Your gaze lingered on his for a moment longer before you cast it to Ray and Emma. They stood strong with you, yet you had a feeling they wanted to waver just as much as you.

Emma stared at the sticky crimson under her boot, eyes wide in disbelief. “They’ve...they’ve all been...?”

“Killed.” Norman plainly finished. “They killed each other and they’re all dead now. The Queen, the nobles, the Giran clan. All of them.” Despite the pleasant way he spoke, you had a feeling he didn’t mean it. The Norman you grew up with--no--the Norman you knew wasn’t like this. He was kind. Gentle. Sweet. He cared for everyone and everything, which was why he chose to be shipped out in the first place.

And why he always chose to be the sacrifice.

You heaved in a deep breath. If this were the reality of your situation, you had to accept it. Ignoring Norman for who he was and what he did wouldn’t do a thing.

“I reforged the Promise.” You made your way across the room, eyes straight and head held high. The smug glint in Norman’s eyes vanished.

“Everybody can escape to the human world and no one needs to fight. You don’t have to kill anymore, it’s over.” That was what you wanted to believe with every fibre of your being. But was it really all over? Could you escape to the human world and leave this place after what’s happened?

Norman shook his head, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“It’s too late for that.” he plainly said. “No, it’s impossible. A monarchy that has lasted thousands of years has collapsed. Governance for the demons is impossible now. So is peace.” He glanced at the lifeless body behind him. “Iverk was the last one, and I killed him myself.”

You stiffened.

“We’ve put a lethal fissure in the demon society. A fissure that can’t be mended. All that’s left to do is,” he threw out a careless hand, “shatter it. All of the demons will die out. There’s just one more factor left. We can’t go back now. We have no choice but to wipe them out.” He straightened and it was like you were staring at a different person. There was no kindness in his eyes, or that light that you’ve relied on to keep you waking up every morning. “Don’t get in the way.”

You clenched a fist. “No.” Your voice came out strong, reassuring. “What is the point in wiping out a whole race just because we can’t see eye-to-eye? There’s hope and I’ve finally grasped it! For thousands of years, there’s been a cycle of slaughter and war that we have to break. I don’t plan on standing back, and I don’t plan on letting you become more of a murderer!”

Norman’s eyes were dark from under his cloak. “(Y/n)...”

You stood your ground. Defying him was the only way you could stay strong, the only way you could convince him. “We’ll find a way together! It’s not going to be easy, but I know we can do it!”

“(Y/n)...!”

“I’m not letting you sacrifice yourself again and I’m not letting you do this alone!”

Norman’s tight expression relaxed into an uncomfortably serene smile. “What are you talking about?” he lightly inquired. “Didn’t I tell you? I’m not going anywhere.”

You heaved in a sharp breath because he stopped telling you the whole truth ages ago. He stopped relying on you because he thought he had to do everything alone. “I can’t trust you. You’re a liar! You think you can fool me? I know something’s wrong with you, you’re just trying to hide it! Don’t underestimate the family you grew up with, stupid Norman. We can see through all your lies and tricks!”

You thought back to the day you walked into his office alone.

I know you Norman, don’t forget that.

It had been too long since you’d seen him and thought him dead. Too long since you were able to hold his hands in yours.

And because I love you, I don’t want to see you destroy yourself.  

It was nice to see him again, yet there was something off about him. He hadn’t changed much besides growing as tall as a tree.

I admit, I don’t know why you act like you’re going to leave again...

The only difference was the hesitance in his stance. As if he were trying to hide something very painful in his chest.

...but I’ll do everything in my power to stop you.  

Then he left your words open-ended, as if he knew he couldn’t possibly lie to your face like that. He knew you saw through him from the start. It was only a matter of time before he acknowledged it.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” you slowly inquired. “Because you’re so smart, you chose the reliable path. Because you’re so kind, you shoulder all the burden. I know you Norman, didn’t I tell you? You don’t want to slaughter the demons! And you don’t want to wipe them out either!”

That was the truth that shone in your heart. You wanted to believe in Norman because he always believed in you. If he didn’t then he wouldn’t have allowed you to go the Seven Walls. If he didn’t, then he wouldn’t have allowed you to walk without him.

“You shouldn’t lie to yourself,” you added. “What are you hiding? What are you so afraid of?” He raised a brow challengingly. “Afraid?” Norman wanted to laugh. “I’m not...”

“The Norman in front of me looks like a scared child.” You said it like it was fact, and judging by the way Norman’s gaze unfocused, you were right. He wasn’t just scared, he was terrified. Of the consequences, of how you would look at him again, of how the blood would never, ever wash off.

But it was okay, right? He was strong. Just a little longer and it would all be over.

You took a step forward. Norman firmly held out a hand. “Don’t come any closer.” His voice was void of any emotion, cold even. “I’ve come this far. I have no intention of turning back now.”

“Well that’s too bad!” you exclaimed. “Because neither do I! I’m not letting you go this time!” You grasped his hands in yours, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Yes, you’re strong, yes you’re smart and you’re amazing and all those great things, but you’re stupid too! And arrogant! Can’t you see that you aren’t alone? Don’t be afraid to believe in us! We’re here to share everything. The tough, the burden, the painful things and the scary!”

Emma nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’ve done that since day one. It’s what we’re here for!” Ray locked gazes with Norman. He wasn’t about to be left out of this, not after Norman’s little stunt back in Grace Field. “Don’t be so reserved either,” he added. “Just spill it!”

You squeezed his hands tighter and stood a little closer. “You don’t need to protect us anymore! We want to walk with you, not behind you!” Answers were simple, but the journey was everlasting and dangerous. You understood what it took to get here even if you weren’t walking in Norman’s shoes. It was difficult. Terrifying. But with all the accomplishments under your belt?

It was time to reunite with him.

“Your family and siblings are your friends.” added Ray. “We don’t want a future where you end up suffering no matter what the result is. And you? What do you want? What do you want to do, Norman?”

He pulled away and the warmth left your hands. “No, it’s no good.” he stated. “You’re already too late. I’m...I’m in a place where I just can’t go back. You can’t walk alongside me--”

“We know.” you interjected. Emma nodded. “About the poison, Mujika and Sonju...”

“And the experiment in the basement.” added Ray. A hopeful smile inched itself onto your lips. “See? We’re not too late. It’s okay to be vulnerable. If you’re the real Norman, then let’s lose our way together. Let’s struggle too, and laugh.” You held out a hand and Emma and Ray joined you.

“Let’s live together.”

Norman didn’t struggle to keep his cool. You re-called the look in his eyes, the same one you saw that night he was told his shipment date. He cried, not just because he chose to get shipped out, but because he was scared. For you. For himself. For his family.

That stifling look of serenity washed off his face. His lips trembled, his shoulders shook, and his eyes watered. You all wrapped each other in a tight embrace. No one deserved to face all the ages of time on their own, no matter what it was, and more than anything, you’d do that for him.

“But...” Norman’s voice trembled. “It’s too late. It's pointless because of the drugs we were forced to take. We don’t have much longer left to live--we can’t live on.” He collapsed to his knees in a heap. “Help me... (Y/n), Emma, Ray... Please...”

That was when all the puzzles finally fit. After laying in wonder for so long with thoughts that kept you awake until the sun rose, you understood. The hesitance in his walk. The way he tried to hide his sluggish step. The way he acted like he was running out of time.

“You’re dying.” The words left your lips before you could even stop them. “It’s...the drugs from Lambda, right?” Norman tried to suppress a sob, but it came out in a way that sounded like he was chocking on his own lies and tears. You took a knee, gently placing a hand on his cheek. “Oh, Norman.”

He couldn’t stand the soft look in your eyes, or the tone in your voice that was like a warm summer breeze. You should have yelled at him. Should have stamped your foot against the ground and growled and slapped him. Yet you knelt in front of him, caressing his dampened cheeks with a touch that said it would all be okay.

Norman wouldn’t look at you--no--he refused to because he was just as you said: a liar. Why were you so kind to him when all he did was lie? He said he’d let you go to the Seven Walls. He said he’d wait for you. He said he wasn’t going anywhere and that he’d live, laugh and do everything to be there with you, for you.

Norman wondered what a murderer like him ever did to deserve you.

-----

The grass crunched under your feet. Towards the brick walls you walked, following the sun as it lowered deeper and deeper towards the ground. You had to keep reaching for it. You had to see it.

In times of trouble, it was your beacon of hope, the last bit of your old life you were sure you could recall. No matter where you were, it was always the first thing you followed. Towards the light. Towards that ray of hope.

You came to a stop at the edge of the school grounds, right where the gates separated you from the outside world bustling with life. The occasional car zoomed through the streets, interrupting the quiet air with its incessant honking and screeching.

The sun disappeared over the horizon, bathing the skies in navy blue and purple.

“Excuse me.”

The voice was light, warm, polite.

“You should really hurry home. It’s not safe out here at this time, especially since we’re students.”

You stuffed your cold hands in your pockets. “I really appreciate your concern,” --you turned to face him-- “but I’m fine. Thank you.”

A boy with light hair and kind eyes met your gaze. Something about him reminded you of something--no--someone. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but the boy did. He’d never forget you, no matter how many lifetimes he lived.

“(Y/n)?” He was breathless, frozen in time as you awkwardly knitted your brows together. (Y/n) wasn’t your name. It was Letha, the name Gramps gave to you because you couldn’t remember your own.

Your confused frown made the boy’s eyes well with tears. You stared, watching as he slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle a pained sob. He was a student here just like you, sporting the traditional sweater vest, white button-up with a tie, and black slacks to match. You’ve never seen him before, yet he looked so...familiar.

Gosh, why couldn’t you remember?

“It’s been over a year and,” he chocked, “I’ve looked everywhere. How could you--how could you do all that for us? You promised we’d live together, but you reforged the Promise and--and...”

The boy's knees wobbled, and out of instinct, you threw out your arms. He fell into you, right at the crook of your neck. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew his tears must have been frozen by now. It was cold out here.

“Are you okay?” Your voice was small, fearful almost. It made the boy cry harder. “I don’t know you, but why don’t we go inside? There should be a cafe down there, and they’re open late, so...”

“I’m sorry.”

You paused.

“I’m so sorry.” he echoed. “I wish I was there. I wish--I wish it were me--but instead...”

You patted his back as if you’d known him for a lifetime. Maybe you felt bad and that was why you hadn’t shoved him off, or maybe, it was because having him in your arms felt so right. Familiar in a way you couldn’t put into words.

Your gentle touch made the boy’s sobs relapse. He curled into you, wrapping his arms around your middle like you’d run away. Like you’d disappear. There was something so nostalgic about this hug and the way you both had your arms around each other.

It had happened before.

“The Promise,” the boy muttered, “you made it in exchange for--”

------

Bright, blue sky stretched out as far as the eye could see. It was beautiful, and oddly calm. Perhaps a little too calm. After running through a maze of illusions and riddles you struggled to solve, you arrived in this place. Alone. The ground was like water, and with each step you took, it rippled and fanned out.

Someone sat in the middle of this endless sky and water, hovering over it serenely.

“What is it you seek?” the demon inquired. You stepped forward. “I want to reforge the Promise.” The demon’s single eye gazed straight through you, as if you were nothing more than a sheet of paper held to the light. “Sure, (Y/n).”

You pursed your lips together. He was unnervingly calm, child-like even, and you had a feeling it had to do with his ‘reward’ after the promise.

“So what is it you seek?” questioned the demon. “You must give me a reward as well.”

Yes, that was the catch. But what could it be? This demon was a being higher than anyone in the land, a god that once split the world in two. He transcended time, yet remained relatively simple-minded and difficult to read.

“The reward,” the demon fiddled with an orb in his hands, “hmmm... It would have to be something important. Ambition. Desire. What someone longs for. What I would want is something important to the other party. Will you make a wish despite that?”

This was for more than your family and Norman. You had people relying on this one choice, this one Promise.

“Yes, I will make a wish despite that.”

It all meant more than the world to you. You had to liberate your family, the children who were raised like livestock and mass-produced like wild animals. And the mamas who fought to survive--you had to think about them too.

“I wish for all the cattle children to cross over...”

They didn’t choose that life of suffering. None of you did.  

“And after that, for it to be completely impossible to pass between the two worlds.”

The demon continued to stare. You stood strong and proud with the weight of all humans in this Neverland on your shoulders. If he granted your wish, then the tide would turn and you’d be able to save everyone and everything.

“I will grant that wish,” he said. “And the reward I want are your---”

----

“Memories?” The words fell from your lips in a hasty breath. More than anything, you valued finding them. It was the only missing piece in your heart. The last portion of the unsolved mystery.

This boy--whoever he was--talked about you like he knew you. Held you like you meant something. Said that name, (Y/n), like it were his life line. He pulled away with a sniffle, settling his hands on your shoulders with a loving touch.

“You don’t remember me.” He lifted a hand and raised it to place on your cheek. But he couldn’t touch you like he used to. Not when you looked at him like he was far away and out of your reach.

“You don’t remember me.” the boy quietly repeated. He began to pull away, but you grasped his hand in yours. It was warm, soft. “No, I...I’ve seen you before.” There was a pained look on the boy’s face, as if he thought you were lying to him.

“Haven’t we been through this before (Y/n)?”

No, said your mind. Yes, said your heart.

“You shouldn’t lie to yourself.”

Your grip tightened around his hand, but not enough to hurt him. “I...I do know you. You’re...” You shouldn’t lie to yourself. You shouldn’t lie to yourself. You shouldn’t lie to yourself. But you did know this boy, and all this time, you yearned to see him.

Remember.

Remember.

Who was he to you?

Who were you to him?

Remember.

Remember!

“I can’t remember your name,” your eyes welled up with cold tears, “but I know I’ve missed you all this time.” You pulled his hand to your cheek as he brought you close. The scent of parchment, aged books, and the woods. Yes, that was nostalgic, so much that it felt right. The final piece, fragmented and broken, began connecting again. It brought the dots and the gaps you tried so hard to fill together.

But something else was still missing.

The boy pulled your head to the crook of his neck and rocked you from side to side in the moonlight. Even the hazy streetlights were drowned out by the stars. You liked to think it was because this part of the city was quiet, isolated, from the rest of the world. And the rest of your worries.

“Norman.” he said.

You looked up at him.

“My name is Norman.”

“And mine is...(Y/n)?”

“Yes,” he said with a bittersweet smile. “I think the day I fell in love with you was when you got excited about something Ray told you. Ray is our family if you’re wondering, and so is Emma, and Gilda, Don...” He told you about people you once knew, and the life you once lived. Some parts he left out, and others he kept.

But you wouldn’t have known. Not when your memory laid in fragments.

“...And so we looked for you. I didn’t think you’d be here, but I’m glad you were.” He laid his chin on the top of your head. “You used to joke that I’d never be taller than you, but now I am.” A sad chuckle left his lips. “I wish things could be different and that you--”

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a flash of red hair. Your head began to pound and you nuzzled closer into Norman.

“What’s wrong?”

“My head hurts.”

He ran a hand through your locks, arms folded close around you as he hummed a sweet tune. It was sad, melancholy, and the only one you’d ever known your whole life. “I know that song.” you mumbled. Norman smiled softly. “Mama used to sing it to us all the time. When Ray had nightmares, she put him to sleep with this song.”

The pounding in your head increased and you squeezed your eyes shut. “I did too. I sang...to you.” Norman’s lips parted, but he settled on a nod and smiled instead. “You remember?”

“I think so.” The memory was hazy, as if someone were trying to make you forget for good. But you fought that urge, held on to the image of a room with white sheets and bed lined up side by side. “You were...talking to me...about a...I don’t know...”

“Go on.”

“You were crying late at night...so I...I sang to you.”

Norman kissed the top of your head. When he was in Lambda, locking in that room all alone running through test after test, he held fast to that memory. It kept him from giving up on what he fought for, and kicking the bucket for good.

“I missed you so much.” he wistfully whispered. “You can’t leave me again, or else you’ll break my heart for good.” You looked up to meet his watery eyes. “Why would I leave?” Norman shook his head. “It was in the Promise, wasn’t it? You can’t break it.”

The pounding began to fade. You tiredly smiled, but it was warm and thankful and happy. “That won’t stop me, Norman. I don’t think I could live without you.” He warmly chuckled, intertwining his hands with yours. “Me too.”

And it was then that you began to feel a little more complete, a little more you from then. You were sure you wouldn’t have to dream another little dream of your wodeerful Norman any longer, for he would be right by your side, where you both belonged.

You released his hands and cupped his cheek. It was a natural act you didn’t even have to think twice about. When you were you, you had done this more than a thousand times. Your lips connected in a sweet kiss. He tasted like coffee and tea rolled into one, and you had a feeling it was because he couldn’t choose which was better.

“I love you.” you said. He warmly smiled, but underneath, it was almost sly. “I love you too. Why don’t we do some catching up?”

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#tpn emma #tpn norman x reader #tpn norman #tpn manga #tpn ray #emma the promised neverland #ray the promised neverland #norman the promised neverland #the promised neverland #ynn #ynn ray #ynn norman #ynn emma #anime x reader #anime

[rudysrings]

Twin Pogues of the OBX - 2

A/N: Ayyy. Seems like no one hates the concept so I decided to go ahead and continue... Let me know what you guys think!

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of sex, guns, slow burn

Word count: 3190

Masterlist

ON WITH IT!

Once you reached the depth of the boat, you released the anchor, letting it fall out of view. You swam across the Grady-White, looking for anything worth collecting, hoping not to find a body, especially your dad’s body.

Near the floor of the bow of the boat, there where keys. You swiftly picked them up, your lungs beginning to burn from the lack of oxygen. You worried that you would take an involuntary gasp of air, so you turned back with only the keys. You wondered how the keys didn’t get lost during the storm.

You broke the surface with the keys in your hand, brushing your hair back from your face. Your friends were over the side of the boat and John B let out a sigh of relief.

Kiara huffed too, “Oh my god, that took forever.”

Pope asked if you had found any dead bodies and you shook your head no. You saw JJ mutter something to himself and look at you with slight guilt. You were gone awhile. He probably thought he had pushed you to your death.

You hoisted yourself up onto the bow and swung your legs over.

When you told the rest of the pogues that what you had found was a motel key, they seemed slightly discouraged and sarcastic that that was what you had salvaged.

Kiara suggested that you guys report the wreck to the coast guard, hoping for a finder’s fee.

On your way there, JJ approached you at the bow, his hand resting on your shoulder. You turned, and he looked at the deck.

He patted your shoulder and pulled his lips inside his mouth, making his face resemble a monkey’s.

“I’m glad you didn’t, ah, drown or something, aight?” He patted your shoulder awkwardly and walked away before you could even respond to that extremely random statement.

You heard Pope laugh at him, slapping his head, “Dude, glad she didn’t drown? Is that the best you can do?” JJ stopped his laughing real quick with a hard shove to the shoulder.

“Ay, shut the hell up, will ya?”

Going back to your beer, you turned back to the water. Kiara nudged your shoulder. “JJ’s right you know, that wasn’t rational.”

You smirked, swirling the last of the beer at the bottom of the bottle. You wrinkled your nose as you realized it was probably just backwash. You took a swig anyways, “Since when am I rational, Kie?”

Kie scoffed, shaking her head at you in disbelief. “You could have died you wretch!”

You shrugged, tossing the bottle aside, “And? Wouldn’t have been the worst way to go. Y’all would have had a helluva story to tell, eh?”

“Story, what the fuck, Y/N?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. Her nurturing reminded your brother. “Honestly, you and John B are the same person. Just gender swapped. You’d be amazing together. I’d never escape your combined mothering powers.” You watched your legs swing over the edge of the boat, something that was far from safe but kept you on edge in a good way. You saw Kiara’s blush and smirked. “Diving was fun, anyways.”

Kiara pursed her lips. “Honestly, you guys are perfect for each other, too.”

You weren’t entirely sure what she meant, but you had a good idea. You knew asking questions would simply draw more attention, so you decided to let it slide.

When you reached the coast guard, John B and JJ went inside to notify them, trying to make their way through the loud crowd.

You crossed your arms as you waited with Kiara and Pope. Pope was staring at you intently and eventually you had enough of it. “What is it, Pope? Why are you looking at me like one of those corpses you so badly want to study?”

Pope didn’t flinch at my obvious attempt to deflect the conversation. “You gonna keep pulling shit like you did back there?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” You said.

Kiara raised her eyebrows as Pope said. “Even if you don’t, I think you should know that John B’s blood pressure can’t take you risking life and limb to check out a goddamn boat wreck.”

You rolled your eyes, “I think I know what my own brother’s blood pressure can take, but thanks for the evaluation, Pope.” You brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear, folding your arms, “Besides, it’s not like my blood pressure can take John B’s constant delusions that our dad’s not dead at the bottom of the ocean somewhere.”

“Y/N!” Kiara hissed at my bluntness.

You held your hands outward, questioning, “What? We all know it’s true.”

Just then, John B and JJ returned, JJ saying, “Well, that went well. So what’s the plan?”

John B insisted that you guys check out the motel room that those keys opened, Kiara agreed to be look out.

As you guys pulled up to the motel, JJ let out a low whistle. You could see why. Agatha had really done a number on this place, even worse than the Chateau. The shingles were barely hanging on to the roof and the entire place just looked drowned, like it had aged fifty years overnight. You noticed furniture all around outside, probably to dry since it would collect mold and mildew if left damp indoors.

It didn’t make sense that someone who owned a Grady-White would stay in a run-down place like this. John B voiced this thought of yours.

You, John B and JJ hopped out of the boat, JJ tying it down. As you guys turned to leave, Pope said to John B, “Don’t let them do anything stupid.”

JJ shrugged, “Oh, we will.”

You winked at Pope, John B sighing, “I’m not making any promises.”

Kiara handed the motel keys to John B, warning in a low voice, “Be careful.” At John B’s lack of response, she leaned forward, giving him a hard look. “I’m serious, be careful.”

You nearly laughed out loud at your brother’s dumb response, an awkward chuckle and a breathy “Heh, yeah…”

As you guys walked down the hall, JJ nudged your side and nodded his head at John B, as if to say, “Watch this.”

He grabbed John B by the shoulder and chin, turning his face towards his; they were only inches apart.

John B’s eyes widened, JJ saying with an overly romantic tone, “Just be so careful, John B.”

Laughing, you watched as John B shoved JJ off harshly, sending him into you. Your back hit the back of his tank top and you caught a whiff of his scent. At first you were repulsed, expecting boyish BO, but surprisingly, JJ smelled of salt, sea salt. He must have been surfing this morning. You pushed him forward, ignoring his dumb grin.

John B looked disgusted, “God, you’re so weird.” He said to JJ.

JJ shrugged, his shoulders reaching his ears. “Dude, what the heck was that about?”

John B looked at him sarcastically. “I don’t know; maybe she wants us to be careful.”

JJ rolled his eyes, clapping him on the back, saying “Every since you’re being threatened with exile, she’s just been like—” JJ caressed John B’s face again, “Oh, be so careful, John B.”

You snorted when JJ added, “Just give me that John D already. Like when are you gonna swoop in on that?”

You but in, agreeing, “You two need to just bang already. I feel like I’m going to puke every time I look at you guys.”

John B’s looked tense. “You know the rule, guys. No pogue-on-pogue macking.”

JJ looked over at you, mocking John B’s statement silently.

You giggled and John B said, “JJ you need help. Not like a little help, you need a lot of help. ‘Cause it’s like every girl who has a heartbeat, you’re just like… UNGHHH…” John B stuck his hands out, acting as if a magnet was forcing him forward, dragging his body.

JJ scoffed, “What? It’s not a big deal. Your sister’s no different!” He defended, gesturing to you.

You slapped him on the shoulder for bringing you into this.

John B turned to JJ, raising his eyebrows. “Don’t bring my sister into this, dude.”

JJ held his hands up. “Whatever, man. I was just sayin’…”

You sighed, walking over to the door. “I think this is us guys, twenty-nine.”

JJ walked over, knocking on the door swiftly before raising his voice to a high-pitch and mimicking in one breath, “Housekeeping.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing. That sound nearly sent you. JJ had always been a master of voices, but this was one of your favorites.

When John B asked if he should open it, JJ added something in Spanish and your eyes widened. You brushed your hair forward, hoping no one would see your random flush of skin.

“No power. No security cameras. No one’s gonna know,” said JJ. It was true, this was a beyond ideal situation.

Your brother unlocked the door, letting the three of you in and locking it behind him.

There wasn’t much inside. You figured it was probably a man over 50 given his choice of clothing, but there was no identification. There was a map with some coordinates pointing to off the continental shelf, which made no sense since no one fished there.

John B found a safe, but was trying to guess and check the password, JJ focused on the map. You realized there was a post it with a pin number on it and you picked it up, handing it your brother. “Here, try this.”

It worked. When he opened the safe, you immediately saw piles of cash. “Well, shit…”

You called JJ over and a giddy smile took over his face as he saw what was inside. Of course, he immediately went for the gun.

He picked it up, turning this way and that, pretending as if you guys were in some sort of lame action movie and he was taking down some cronies after him.

In all honesty, you were jealous. Crossing your arms, you pouted. “I wanted the gun.”

JJ shrugged. “Too slow.” Adjusting his position, he asked, “Come on, take a picture of me.”

John B stood up, shaking his head.

You looked at him like he was an idiot, “Seriously? You want to make our own incriminating evidence?”

Suddenly there was a hard rock hitting plexiglass sound from the window and John B looked over, before jumping to the blinds by the door of the motel room, hissing, “Cops.”

There was no way you guys would make it out in time.

You looked over at the window, ushering the guys over, “Hurry! Out here.”

JJ went out first, John B following. You shuffled out quickly, and felt an arm at your waist. You turned to see JJ, who was looking at your feet, focusing on helping you onto the ledge he was on. You leaned out, nearly falling but trusting him to hold on to you as you closed the window door with your hand. JJ pulled you back to the ledge with one swoop, the quick movement making you crash into his side.

Luckily your hair was in a braid, or it might have gotten you guys caught.

John B held his finger up to his lips, gesturing for you guys to be quiet.

You nodded. JJ didn’t remove his arm from around you. There was hardly enough room for one person. Afraid you would fall, he pulled you even closer, so that your feet were on top of his. You were chest to chest, your back against the wall, JJ caging you, but not touching you. He wasn’t looking at you but into the window, his eyebrows furrowed with anxiousness.

Without anything else to look at, you stared at him. Your breath was coming fast from your fear, making you pant and take in large gulps of hot air.

Sea salt. Once again, you could smell it. Stupidly, your mouth moved before you could control it, “Did you go surfing this morning?” You whispered.

JJ turned to you, face blank and confused. “What?”

You saw Kiara and Pope run back to the HMS Pogue.

You flushed immediately, and JJ watched your blush reach your chest. “Uh, what?” You repeated. “Nothing, never mind.”

You looked to the side, trying to ignore his stare on you. His hand reached up, tucking a strand of hair that had come loose from your braid behind your ear.

He leaned back towards the window and John B and him shared a look of astonishment. They had taken the money. The cops had stolen from a crime scene. JJ whispered, “What the fuck?”

You looked back at him, eyebrows furrowed. Suddenly, he shuffled slightly, and the gun that was loosely tucked into his waistband slipped, clattering on its way to the ground.

Fuck.

JJ punched the wall slightly in frustration and cursed under his breath.

John B glared but didn’t say anything. You all flinched when the window curtain was opened abruptly. Afraid you guys would be seen, JJ moved closer, his chest flush against yours now. You could hear his heart racing and you were sure he could feel how fast your chest was rising and falling. Because of the crisis. Right, because of the crisis.

He leaned forward, hiding his face beside yours, his scruffy blonde hair tickling your left cheek.

You took a deep breath before holding it, your eyes closed. You didn’t want to catch anymore of his scent. It made you foolish and disoriented.

It was tense minute. It felt like hours to you. Finally, they were gone. You released your breath onto JJ’s shoulder, and you noticed him shudder slightly.

He pulled away, making eye contact for a little too long before moving. John B opened the window and hopped inside. JJ followed, disentangling his limbs from yours.

JJ reached his hand out to you to help you up, but as usual, you slapped it away. He rolled his eyes as he watched you hold onto the sides of the window frame, hoisting yourself through the space. For some goddamn reason, today had to be the day the tip of your foot got caught on the frame and you stumbled.

Instantly, JJ had his arms out, helping you through.

Once inside, you patted him softly on the chest and he let go of you.

You straightened your shirt, clearing your throat and following John B out the door.

When you reached the HMS Pogue, Kiara and Pope had it ready to go. You guys got in and Pope drove off.

Pope asked if you guys found anything and JJ held up the money and the gun. While Kiara and Pope shouted at him for taking something from a crime scene, you gave him a high-five.

What was life without a little danger, anyways?

When you guys returned to the docks, they brought in Scooter Grubbs’ body. Apparently, he had drowned while taking his brand-new Grady-White into the storm.

When you returned to the Chateau, you guys pieced it together. It was obvious that Scooter had to have been a drug dealer, otherwise it wouldn’t have made any sense that a marina rat like him could have copped a goddamn Grady-White.

Despite Pope’s initial doubts, you guys wanted to go after the contraband that was no doubt hidden in the boat.

For now, you had to lay low. Of course, to you guys, that meant throwing a kegger on your side of the island. You even invited the kooks. They were great at attracting attention, which meant less attention on you guys, and less attention from the fact that you guys had a gun stolen from a crime scene.

It was late, and you walked over to your brother with a beer in your hand. He was leaning over one of the campfire logs, looking out wistfully with his chin in his hand. You followed his eyes and saw that he was staring at Sarah Cameron, the local, certified golden girl of the kooks. Rolling your eyes, you gave him a shove. “Find someone in your own league, bro!”

He shook his head quickly. “What? No, I wasn’t—”

You stopped him from saying anymore. “I don’t care, JB.”

You turned, looking to get more beer when someone twirled you from behind. You were met with a solid chest and looked up to see Asher.

He gave you a grin and you gave a wary smile, uncomfortable with his sudden physical contact.

“We always run into each other at keggers, ay?” Said Asher.

You nodded, pursing your lips. “Seems that way.”

Asher threw his arm around your shoulder, taking the rest of your drink and downing it. “We should really try to change that.” He suggested.

He was asking you out. Embarrassed, you tried to shoot him down nicely, “Ahh, I kind of like it better this way.”

Asher turned to face you, stopping your pace. “Aw, come on! Let me take you out, Y/N.”

You smiled. “Sorry, Asher, but dating’s really not my style.”

Confused, Asher laughed, “But whoring it up is?”

You heard a sharp, “Hey!” and JJ appeared from behind you. How long had he been there?

He shoved Asher. “What the hell did you say?” He questioned, gaining on Asher.

Asher put his hands up in the air, “Listen, man, I don’t want any trouble. Besides, who the fuck are you?”

You saw Topper appear, Sarah Cameron at his heels. “What’s going on here? You dirty pogues giving my little brother a hard time?”

WHAT. THE. FUCK.

Asher was Topper’s younger brother? You had slept with that?

Repulsed, you wrinkled your nose. John B approached to see what the commotion was about as well. He asked what was happening and JJ gestured accusingly at Asher. “This one’s calling Y/N a whore.”

John B’s eyebrow rose, his expression dangerous.

This was not going to end well.

“He did what?” Before he could reach Asher, Topper shoved John B, provoking him to shove back, leading to an all-out brawl.

You were tempted to join in, but Kiara held tight to your arm, not letting you out of her grip.

One thing led to another and Topper had John B’s head in the water, drowning him.

“JOHN B! Topper get OFF!” You screamed.

You watched as JJ’s jaw clenched at your hysterical cries. Steeling himself, he ran up to the fight, pulling the gun out of his shorts and holding it to Topper’s head.

Everyone on the beach scattered at the sight of a gun. Pope cursed with his hands on his head, furious.

JJ muttered something to Topper and he held his hands up, releasing John B. Kiara finally let you go and you ran up to your brother, who was coughing his lungs out.

Kiara joined you, helping John B up and walking him out of the water.

He shook you guys off, glaring at JJ.

You guys blew it. This was the complete opposite of laying low.

To be continued…

Masterlist

@treestarrrrrrrr​

#john b x reader #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #obx #jj #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #kiara #kiara carrera #obx fanfiction #kiara carrera x reader #pope #pope heyward #pope heyward x reader #slowburn #slow burn #john b x sister!reader #john b x twin!reader #john b x twinsister!reader #john b x twin!sister!reader #jj maybank fanfiction #john b routledge #john b #john b fanfiction

[smol-and-trashy]

Sylvix Vore Fic (FE3H)

A/N: This is probably mega OOC, but I fell in love with both Sylvain and Felix during my first playthrough of FE3H and been itching for a vore fic featuring them. It’s probably more accurate to read this as platonic due to my inability to write anything remotely romantic... This was also inspired by @sinfromlokislair‘s Sylvix fic, theirs is a lot better tbh haha.. Vomit warning, so if that makes you squeemish, please leave now! Enjoy :) 

_____________________

Felix growled as he shoves off the giant finger, wishing this oaf wasn’t the first person who offered help. While Sylvain would disagree, it wasn’t entirely his fault that he was in this position. The blast of magic was directed towards their professor and Felix, standing behind her, found himself foolishly taking the hit. He expected a lot of things to happen, well aware of the effects of taking a direct hit to dark magic, but being reduced to the size of a field mouse was not one of them. Now, he has to pay the price of the curse. 

Felix pinched the bridge of his nose, he expected something like this happening to Sylvain, the reckless skirt-chaser, but himself? He was usually more collect in battle. He sighs, regret still weighing heavily over him, but he had more pressing matters to tend to, specifically regarding the man before him. He looks up: Sylvain Jose Gautier loomed over Felix in all his self-proclaimed glory, Felix swallows. Goddess, he was gargantuan, his chest taking up most of Felix’s line of view and he has to crank his neck far back just to peer up in his friend’s eyes and feel like an equal in conversation. Bubbles of fear and humiliation rose up inside the smaller, but he represses those feelings, swiftly replacing them with indignation. “For the last time, Sylvain, quit poking me.” “Sorry, sorry, it’s just that you’re so tiny and cute! I really can’t help myself.” Sylvain laughs a little, folding both hands behind his head. “Insatiable, as always,” Felix mutters under his breath. If Sylvain heard, he gave no indication, instead, grabbing Felix without a single warning. As the tree-sized fingers close around his waist, Felix soon finds himself face-to-face with his ginormous friend; bemused, Sylvain simply watches as the smaller struggles in his grip. “Let me go, Sylvain!” he squawks, trying to pry those fingers off him. Really, the man had no concept of personal space. “Mm, I could, but,” Sylvain leans forward with his elbow still on the table, drawing closer to Felix. Fruitlessly trying to maneuver his legs and kick at Sylvain’s too-close face, he stops; scowling as he notices his own reflection in those amber eyes, and at last, Sylvain pulls back. “This is all too much fun!” he winks. “Hilarious, now let me down, you oaf.” Felix says flatly, “I would rather dual the boar than being stuck here with you.” “Really? Because most ladies would love to be in your shoes, Fe.” Felix squirmed a little in the redhead’s grip, not fancying himself so high. “Let them. At least you would finally leave me alone.” Sylvain leans on his arm, a cocky grin adorning his lips, “Ouch, don’t be like that! Least now, you can’t refuse to get dinner with me.” The raven-head rolls his eyes at the reminder of Sylvain’s countless dinner invitations, most of which he had turned down in favor of training. “Forcing me to eat with you, would you stoop so low?” Sylvain says nothing, only flashing a sly smirk and hoists Felix a few inches higher, just above his nose. Felix unwittingly tenses up, he's much too high and Sylvain was taking this joke further than he'd like. He curses while digging his nails into his friend's skin, trying to force himself to be lowered. Yet, the other refuses to budge. He can't tell if Sylvain thought of this as one big joke or if he was really this careless. "You incorrigible---" "Aw, c'mon Fe, you’re just cute enough to eat!” Sylvain interrupts smugly, dangling Felix over his wide-open mouth; He wasn’t seriously going to drop him, but it was all too easy to get a rise out of him. Felix’s heart pounds furiously against his chest as he’s forced to peer into Sylvain’s awaiting maw. Sharp white teeth that could easily bite him in half taunt him while that wet tongue twitches and Felix doesn’t even want to think what is beyond that dark, pulsing throat. It was repulsive, everything. Despite himself, Felix couldn’t stop staring. Is this what prey feel when they’re about to be eaten? Strangely enamored? He frowns, choosing not to dwell on it, and instead, averting his eyes to the door, he was no damsel, but a piece of him wishes for Ingrid or even the boar to pay Sylvain an unexpected visit. Relief sweeps through him as those lips close, “Tell me, do you have a death wish, Sylvain?” he growls, but the older man’s lips quirk upwards, evidently amused. As Sylvain opens his mouth to make a quip—- “Sylvain!” Ingrid barges into the room, and in an instant, he loses his grip on Felix, barely able to make out the tiny man’s objections as he falls straight towards the gaping throat. Sylvain’s jaws snap shut, and the obtrusion at the back of his throat causes him to swallow, purely out of reflex. Fuck. All traces of coy playfulness disappear instantly as he feels the tiny body make its way down his throat. He sits there, in cold shock, as Felix drops into his stomach. The heavy, humid air hits him, and Felix lies absolutely still, paralyzed with disbelief. This can’t be real. That half-wit did not just swallow me. Felix’s heart pounds in his ears as he wipes the slime off his face. The chamber wasn’t as dark as he anticipated, in fact, he could see the wrinkled pinkish walls fairly well. His own stomach turns as thick chyme splashes on him, and before he’s able to gain some semblance of footing, he’s thrown at the opposing wall. More liquid soaks him, and Felix thrashes aimlessly, the only coherent thought going through his mind is ‘I need to get out of here.’ He rushes to the nearest wall, cursing at Sylvain for taking his swords beforehand, and punches at the wall. No reaction. Not a wince, not a protest to stop, nothing. The chamber groans and convulses, but there’s no direct response from Sylvain. Felix clenches his fist, and despite the heat, he feels an icy chill plunge into his veins; no, he must persist. He’s trained on hours end, he can make Sylvain notice him. As Felix is about to inflict another punch to the walls, he hears a familiar voice around him, pushing down the squicked feeling of hearing his childhood friend in such a ubiquitous manner, he pauses to listen. Sylvain stands up and freezes, a nervous chuckle arises from his throat, “I-Ingrid! To what do I owe the pleasure of—“ “You know how many messes of yours I had to clean up for the past week?” He blanches as Ingrid wastes no time in berating him for his less than reputable behavior, “You promised that you would cease your philandering ways, but I heard from Ashe, of all people, that you were—-“ she pauses, Sylvain was almost hunched over, sickly pale with his arms twisted around his stomach, “Are you okay? You look unwell.” At that, Sylvain straightens up, “Ah, yeah, yeah, just ate something bad earlier,” he winces as he earns a nasty kick from Felix, “nothing some rest can’t fix!” Ingrid’s concerned expression only deepens, she purses her lips, but Sylvain, armed with a charming smile, puts a hand on her shoulder, “Honestly, Ingrid, I’m fine. But it’s cute of you to get all worked up over me! Y’know, maybe a kiss on the cheek would help?” The blonde shoves his hand off, rolling her eyes, “I’m not…Take care of yourself, Sylvain,” she sighs, turning around and finally shutting the door behind her. Alone in his room, Sylvain gingerly presses a hand on his belly, earning sharp kick in retaliation. His mouth suddenly feels like it was filled with cotton, and finding himself at a rare loss of words, Sylvain racks his brain for the right thing to say, for something to say. “You alright in there?” he mentally slaps himself after the words come out of his mouth. How utterly stupid he must sound. “Am I alright in here?” Felix repeats incredulously, blood boiling with every ticking second, “Did you really just ask the man who’s stewing away in your filthy guts if he’s ‘alright in there?’ What the hell do you think?” Sylvain swallows and finally sits down on his bed, trying to control an incoming rush of vertigo. He runs a hand through his hair, slicking the ruddy strands back into place, and sighs. “You’re right, I-I’m sorry, Felix. You’re not… melting in there, are you?” His heart-rate begins to pick up, thumping wildly in his chest like a caged bird. “Oh Goddess, you need to let me know if anything is happening!” “As you should be,” Felix says while checking out his arm. His once white sleeves are stained from the juices, but he’s feeling no burning effects. Not to say the acids wouldn’t be activated when Sylvain eats something—-other than himself. “It looks like I’m fine, for now.” “Good, let’s get you out of there.” He’s met with an affirmative hum, and Sylvain plants himself on the floor, firmly pressing both hands on his stomach. Tiny fingers tap on the bottom of his belly and now wholly aware of it. The feeling is entirely alien, almost ticklish; he automatically heaves, offhandedly noting the room getting warmer as sweat gathers on his forehand. Bile creeps at the bottom of his throat, and Sylvain dry heaves once again, “C’mon…” he murmurs. His stomach groans louder, noisily protesting the shrunken being inside, and his fingers slam on the hardwood, curling instantly. As his guts twist and turn in itself, he grimaces, wishing for a drink to aid him in this uncomfortable process. Sylvain’s eyes widen as he gags, only able to retch out strands of saliva. There is a distinct lack of a certain sharp-tongued mercenary.   “No…Why didn’t it work?” he whispers, clutching at his middle. “Sylvain…” Felix’s voice is dangerously low, and Sylvain was sure that if he hadn’t removed the former’s weapons, his insides would have been lacerated mercilessly. Even though they’d been friends since childhood, even though they made a promise, there was no way Felix would let himself die such a humiliating death. Felix glares up at the tight sphincter from above, it’s much too high to force open, but maybe if Sylvain was lying down… He pauses, out of nowhere, acids begin to bubble and churn. The stomach gurgles louder, and suddenly, he’s thrown from wall-to-wall, hardly getting a chance to catch his breath. A god-awful groan resonates around him, and his head gets submerged under the liquid; everything flies by too quickly; this was it, this was how he was going to go down. He can’t breathe; one moment his lungs are filled with acids, and the next, he finds himself splayed on a squishy surface. Felix coughs and gasps for air, for a split second, he really thought he was done for. Arm slung over his head, he almost doesn’t notice the shadow looming over him or the fast pulse below, rivaling his own. He needs a good minute to recoup himself as he breathes slowly to even his heart-rate. Finally removing his arm, he looks above. Felix’s breath hitches as the thundering vibrations of Sylvain saying something reverberates through his body; nearly admonishing himself for such a pathetic reaction, he realizes the words aren’t registering. “—-about this, yeah?” Felix catches the tail-end of whatever the redhead was trying to say. “Alright.” and for the first time since this ordeal, there’s no bite behind his words, only thinly veiled exhaustion as he finds himself slumped against Sylvain’s index finger. He just wants to return to normal and forget this day ever happened.

#sylvix vore #sylvain vore #felix vore #fe3h vore #fire emblem vore #soft vore #safe vore #vomit warning vore #vore writing #fandom vore #all my tags have vore in them so no one else would know of this sin #unwilling vore

[sunmoonandeddie]

spilled wine

pairing: king!bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3,346

summary: You’re nothing more than a servant who happens to warm the bed of the king.  At least, that’s what you thought you were.

warnings: Some swearing, little bit of violence

a/n:  This was written for @cametobuyplums‘s 2000 Plums Writing Challenge!  Congratulations!  My prompt was “Pour moi, c’est toi la plus belle : to me, you are the prettiest.”  Also, shout out to my betas that basically agreed to read this because we’re in a group chat and I’m a brainless noodle that needs all the help I can get: @wastedavenger @curvybihufflepuff @siren-kitten-his @starwarsgazer Let me know what y’all think!

You were angry.

No, angry was too simple a word.  You were vexed, aggrieved, irate.  And you had every god damn right to be.

Well, kind of.

“What has you all riled up?” Wanda asked as she sidled up next to you.  You were two peas in a pod with your matching servant’s dresses.  They were slightly nicer than your usual uniforms, trading plain brown wool for dark blue muslin.

“Nothing,” you said with a huff as your eyes landed on the King, who was currently twirling Princess Natalia around the ballroom.

But your best friend was as observant as ever, her eyes following your gaze.  “She’s beautiful.”

And she was, with her red silk gown that matched her fiery red hair.  Gold was woven throughout the fabric, making it almost luminescent.  But nothing could be more beautiful than her emerald green eyes, you were sure of it.

“She’d make a fine queen.”

You hummed in response, the bottle of wine sweating in your hands.  “I’m sure she would.”

“You know, political marriages happen all the time, even with commoners such as us,” she said, her eyes searching your face.  Her voice had dropped to a low whisper to ensure that no one could overhear the two of you.  “It doesn’t mean there’s feelings between them.”

“I know.”

“Then why do you look so upset?”

Because I am upset, you wanted to say.  But you couldn’t.  It didn’t matter that Wanda was smart and had figured out about your little affair over a year ago.  Or that she had told you that you would inevitably have to watch him marry someone else.  When she told you that, you’d simply shrugged and said, “He only wants someone to keep his bed warm, and I am in no place to deny my king.”

“Y/N, please tell me what happened,” she said as she reached up to tug on one of the ribbons she had braided into the strands of hair that she’d pulled back into a half-up, half-down sort of look.

“We got into an argument,” you finally admitted as your mind flashed back to what had taken place just a few hours before.

“I have to go,” you said as you straightened out your hair in the mirror.

It wouldn’t do to look as though you’d been rolling around in the hay.

Granted, your virtue wasn’t worth as much as the nobility that walked the halls of the castle, but still.  The principle was there.  And someday you’d have to get married and there was no doubt in your head that your husband would want to know that whatever children came out of your union were his.

“The ball doesn’t begin for another three hours,” James said as he rolled out of bed.  He didn’t even have the decency to get dressed before crossing his chambers to where you were standing, peering into his looking glass.  He looked almost godly in the afternoon sun that was streaming in through the open balcony doors.  “It wouldn’t hurt you to linger, my love.”

There it was again.  ‘My love.’  The title that he had given you that would never truly be yours.  It stung your heart every time he uttered the words, though you knew that you couldn’t say anything about it.

His arms wrapped around you from behind, your hands automatically clasping over where his rested on your sternum.  His lips trailed soft, feather-light kisses against any bare skin he could find.  His hair fell in a curtain around his face.  Your eyes were locked on your own in the mirror.  You wished for nothing more than to be able to stay right there, in his arms, hidden away from the judgmental eyes of the world.  “Stay… for just a little longer…,” he purred.

“My king,” you said after clearing your throat.  You knew how much he hated it when you used his title, and for the most part, you agreed to use his actual name when the two of you were alone.   But right now, you needed to get your point across.  You wriggled out of his grasp, turning away from him to pull on your shoes.  “This needs to come to an end.”

The air in the room changed as he froze behind you.  “What?”

You swallowed, knowing that defying your king could get you thrown into the dungeons or sent to the gallows.  You could only hope that you had gained enough respect in your time together for him to allow you to keep living your life as you knew it.  “This…  This needs to end.”

“I heard what you said.  I suppose I’m just wondering what’s gotten into you,” James said, letting out a chuckle as he tried to grab your hand.  He clearly thought you were joking, playing a little trick on him before the big night.

But you snatched your hand away before he could grab it.  “My king,” you said sternly, your voice void of any warmth.  “Tonight you are choosing a queen.  You are throwing an entire ball for it.”

“I don’t see how that means this has to end,” he said, his brows furrowing.

“I don’t think your wife would appreciate me warming your bed,” you replied dryly.

James rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the wall.  There was still a playfulness in his eyes because he didn’t get it.  Because he was a man and men get what the want, especially if they have a crown on their head.  “My wife—whoever she may end up being—will have her own chambers, as is normal.”

“And what then?” You snapped, your frustration reaching its boiling point.  “I will not—no, cannot—be your little plaything—your whore—for the rest of my life.  One of these days, I will be married to a man who wants to be sure I’m not bearing another man’s heirs.”  You could get in so much trouble for this.  You could be beheaded, for God’s sake.  But you didn’t care.  You’d spent the past two years warming the king’s bed and you truly only had yourself to blame for the current situation.  You’d lost your heart to him.  You should’ve ended it the second you realized you had feelings for the man, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it until now.

“You’re getting married?”

And maybe it was because you were so pissed off, but you could’ve sworn he was laughing at you.  “Yes, I am,” you said, your hands fisting at your sides.  “To the blacksmith in the village.”  You swallowed, willing yourself to stay strong, to not cry.  “And he may not be rich and he may not have a title, but at least I won’t be a toy to throw away when he’s done with me.”

James scowled, his hands having dropped to his sides as he stood up straight.  “I am your king.  And regardless of whether or not you’re getting married to some commoner, I want you.”

“If you want me, then you have to earn me!” You snarled as you whirled on him.  “I might just be a servant, but I am not yours!”

He was left completely silent as you stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind you.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Wanda cooed as she gently rested a hand on your arm.  Because it didn’t matter that she could be saying, ‘I told you so.’ What mattered was that you needed your best friend more than anything.

Because underneath all your anger was a deep sadness, a despair that only came from a broken heart.

“It’s alright,” you said, though it was clear that you were more trying to convince yourself.  “I’ll forget all about him once Adam and I are married.”

The redhead’s nose scrunched as she was reminded of your now fiancé.  “I don’t particularly care for that man.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not the one marrying him,” you teased as you moved to refill some of the Lord’s cups.  Plus, you could see the head of the kitchen, Vision, glaring at the two of you.

It didn’t matter that he was set to marry Wanda, he wouldn’t risk getting in trouble for two of the servants under his watch talking the night away instead of working.

The music continued to play as you moved through a few of the tables that lined the edges of the room, refilling goblets whenever you saw they were half empty or lower.  There were a few sly comments here and there, but nothing too out of the ordinary of the sleazy men.

You were pouring more wine for Lord Rumlow when your eyes drifted up to the dance floor, only to find James’s eyes already on you as he danced with the princess.  His startling blue eyes met yours, freezing you in place.

But you were pulled out of it by the sound of a someone shouting.  You gasped as you looked down, realizing that you’d overflowed Rumlow’s goblet and that it was dripping all over him.

“You stupid girl!” He snarled.  His hand swept across the table so that the goblet flew towards you, wine covering your dress.

There was no way that was coming out.

“I-I’m so sorry!” You said, stammering as you tried to mop up the wine with your dress.  People were starting to take notice of the commotion, Wanda included.  You could see her from the corner of your eye across the room.  She looked more like a raging bull than a girl, pushing up her sleeves as though she was going to storm him herself.  Vision appeared behind her, though, holding her back before she could do anything rash.  “Please, f-forgive me, Lord Rumlow.”

A yelp tore from your lips as the Lord gripped your upper arms, his nails digging into your skin through your dress.  He shook you harshly as spit flew from his mouth.  His face was twisted into something so horrific, you were sure that he’d been possessed by a demon.  No holy creature could be so ugly.  “I’ll have you hanged for you insolence, you—"

“LET HER GO!”  The king’s voice boomed across the room, and everyone fell deathly silent.

You whimpered as Rumlow’s grip tightened as the king stalked towards him, murder in his eyes.  You knew there would be bruises in the shape of his hands in just a few hours.  “Your Majesty, this worthless—“

“Have you lost your hearing, Rumlow?” James asked as he came to a stop in front of the two of you.

The man blinked in confusion.  “What on Earth are you talking about?  Of course not.  This kitchen mouse—"

“Then why have you not put her down as I’ve ordered you to?”

The other man’s jaw clenched as he stared down the King for a long moment, before tossing you to the floor.  “She spilled wine all—”

“She apologized, and spilled wine no reason for you to turn into a rabid animal,” James interrupted, his eyes still narrowed.  He was making it clear that Rumlow wasn’t getting anywhere with his excuses.  He hadn’t looked at you yet, and you didn’t dare move from where you’d landed on the marble floor.  “Maybe we should have you for prey on our next hunt.”  He sneered at the lower-born man.  “Get out of my sight before I send my dogs out after you.”  When the man was out of earshot, the King turned his head to speak to his right hand, Lord Rogers.  You’d heard all about him while lying in James’s bed after a night of love-making.  He was the King’s best friend as well as his most trusted adviser.  “Ensure that he leaves, Steve.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

Your cheeks flamed as you stared down at the floor, your palms pressed flat against the cold marble.  You couldn’t look your now former lover in the eyes.  Not after what had just occurred.  You were a servant.  You weren’t meant to be seen, and now every person in attendance was staring directly at you.

But James surprised you, getting on his knees so that he was on your level.  “Are you alright, my love?” He asked softly, gently tilting your chin up to look him in the eyes.

“Your…  Your Majesty, wh-what are you doing?” You stammered, eyes darting around the room to see everyone watching him.  “You shouldn’t be—”

“Y/N, are you alright?” He asked once again, making sure to enunciate each word.

You stared at him with wide eyes, swallowing.  “Y-Yes.  I’m so-sorry about the wine, I—"

James’s hands rested on your elbows so that your hands had to rest on his chest.  He didn’t care that the two of you were still on the floor.  “I don’t care about wine.  Or Rumlow, for that matter.  What I care about is whether or not you’re okay.”  He stared at you for another long moment before pulling you to your feet.  “Dance with me.”

“Wha…  What?”  You blinked at him slowly, unsure that you heard him.

“Dance with me,” he repeated, though he was already pulling you to the dance floor.

“B-But there’s people staring, and my dress, and I’m just—”

“You’re just what?” He countered, frowning as he brushed his knuckles against your cheek.  “Let them stare.  I don’t care about a dress.  And you…”  He smiled faintly as he took in your features.  “You are worth more than all of them put together.”  He held out his hand to you.  “Now, will you dance with me?”

After just another moment’s hesitation, you placed your hand in his.  He nodded towards the band and a slow waltz floated through the air.

“How is Princess Natalia?” You asked as he held you close.  You were avoiding his eyes.

“She’s fine, enjoying her engagement to Prince Clinton,” he said, though when you looked up at him, there was no cocky smirk that said he was poking fun of your jealousy.  No, he was being completely serious in wanting you to know that he wasn’t interested in her.

But even so, your eyes drifted over to the many eligible noble women that had come to try their hand at winning the King’s heart.

“What are you thinking?” He asked, his voice barely audible.

“One of them is going to be your wife.  They’re all rather pretty,” you hummed, unable to stop yourself from staring at the girls.  They stood there in their fine silk gowns with diamonds dripping from their ears and their necks.  Every single one of them was glaring at you, reminding you that you weren’t one of them.  That you didn’t deserve to be dancing with the King.  That he would never choose you as his bride.

“Pour moi, c’est toi la plus belle,” he said as he gently turned your head to look back at him.

You bit your lip as you followed his lead, surprised at how easy it was to dance with him.  The most dancing you’d ever done was in the village square during festivals, and those boys were never any good at it.  They spent most of the time stepping on your toes.  “What does that mean?”

“To me, you are the prettiest.”  Before you could reply, he twirled you under his arm and brought you back in.  There was a thoughtful look in the depths of his blue eyes.  “I’ve done a lot of thinking in the… five hours or so since you left my chambers,” he said, his voice dropping so that no one could hear.  He knew how damaging it could be for you if someone heard that you’d been alone with him.

“Oh?” You prompted, not quite sure where the conversation was headed.

He nodded, humming as he looked down at you.  “Did you know that my father was a lowborn Lord before he married my mother?”  His brows were furrowed as he recounted the story.  “He was the fifth son of my grandfather, who was the fourth son of my great grandfather.  My great grandfather, James II, was a rebel that was pardoned by his king due to his lineage.  But he was barely left with enough land and money to keep his title as a Lord.”

You were growing less and less aware of everyone’s stares on you as you simply focused on the man holding you.  The man that you considered to be the love of your life.

“But my mother didn’t care about any of that.  She was the only child born to my grandparents, the future Queen.”  He paused, his eyes flickering over to the Queen Mother.  When her husband had passed, she’d decided to step down and let her son take the throne, despite the fact that she could rule without him.  She was adored by her people, loved and respected, just as her husband had been.  “Anytime she told the story to me when I was little, she always said, ‘I loved him, which meant his title didn’t matter.  He was born my equal.  I simply raised him to my level in the eyes of the world.’”

Your throat felt dry as you stared at him, your heart beating so loudly that you were sure he could hear it.  “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I have never bowed to anyone in my entire life,” he said, drawing out the words as the two of you came to a stop in the middle of the ballroom.  “Not even my parents.  But I will bow to you as the sun bows to the moon every night, allowing it to shine for the world.”  As if to show that he was serious, he bowed deeply at the waist, shocked gasps ringing through the air.  His lips pressed to your hand before he came back up.

“James…  What does this mean?” You asked as he straightened up once again.  You thought you knew where this was heading but you didn’t want to get your hopes up just in case.

“Let me raise you in the eyes of the world.  Let me show them that you’re my equal in every way,” he said as he slowly sunk to one knee.  His eyes were swimming with tears as he looked up at you.  “Marry me.  You’re already the love of my life, my light in the darkness.  Be my wife and my queen.”

You couldn’t form words.  Tears streamed down your face as you rapidly nodded.  “Yes,” you finally gasped out, letting out a bit of a laugh.  “Yes, I will marry you.”

James got to his feet, pulling you into his warm embrace.  His lips met yours as the room erupted in applause.  When he finally set you down, he opened up his arms to present you to the room proudly.  Wine-stained dress and all.  Your cheeks flamed as you curtsied towards them, before remembering that you would never have to curtsy to anyone ever again.

“Come.  There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” he whispered, his breath hot against his ear as he led you towards where the Queen Mother, Winifred, sat on one of the thrones.  “Mother,” he said, eyes shining.  “This is Y/N, my fiancé.”

You knew the Queen Mother, of course.  You were the one who brought her tea every morning and every night.

She got to her feet, waving you off when you started to cursty.  “None of that nonsense,” she said, pulling you into a hug.  “Truth be told, I was wondering when my son would tell me about the girl he was so taken with,” she said, low enough that her son couldn’t hear.

Your cheeks flamed as she pulled away, but a fond smile tugged at your lips as your fiancé caught your gaze yet again.

James made a big show of bowing to you yet again.  “My Queen, will you give me the honor of a dance?”

Your heart fluttered as you placed your hand in his.  “I will.”

#bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #king!bucky #king!bucky barnes #royalty au #king!bucky barnes x reader #king!bucky barnes x you #king!bucky barnes x y/n #king!bucky x you #king!bucky x reader #king!bucky x y/n #king bucky barnes #king bucky #2000plumswritingchallenge

[ill-be-istj-if-no-one-else-is]

I saw on many MBTI forums that incompetence is the TJ's pet peeve. While nobody likes incompetence, what makes the TJ's dislike of incompetence different? Do you have any advice for working with a TJ teammate/boss?

So here’s the thing: while no one will say they like incompetence, a lot of people tolerate it. That’s how you get people saying “oh, well, he’s a great guy though” or “but they’re going through a lot right now” and treating that not as a reason to be empathetic but still get things done (healthy TJ response) but as a reason to grant unlimited lenience.

TJs don’t really do that unlimited lenience - high Te users value competence because they believe in getting things done in their environment efficiently and effectively. They will excuse people, but excusing to a (healthy) TJ means “perhaps its best that you go off this project and take the time you need, and we let someone else take on your role in the meantime”, not “oh it’s fine”. TJs have little patience for flakiness.

There’s also something I’ve brought up before, which sort of ties to Si in me as well but I think would be felt by xNTJs: the first company I worked for had a concept for people who were exceptionally creative or good with people (in client-facing roles) and sometimes pulled off a big success, but weren’t great with follow-through or every day tasks. Here’s the thing: that’s not competence. It’s certainly nice to have, but it makes a lot of other people’s jobs harder in the process, and I bet there’s someone out there who is both creative/has great people skills AND doesn’t require me to spend hours physically tracking them down to fill out required paperwork. TJs want efficiency, and it’s really hard to do that if the people around you are sucking up your time for things they really should be able to handle on their own.

So: for working with a TJ teammate or boss, assuming they’re a healthy/reasonable person, a good thing to do is get the basics down pat and build up your reputation - I’ll give someone much more leeway if I know they’re competent and having a bad day, vs someone who’s always required tons of my time and effort. Ask questions early if you’re having trouble so that you can make sure you learn how to do things, be punctual, be responsive, and if you’re going to miss a deadline or you’re having trouble, tell them as soon as you know it’s going to be a problem. Incompetence doesn’t mean you can’t make mistakes or not know what to do - it means you don’t try to address and learn from those mistakes, and you don’t let other people know so that they can help you.

Also, depending on your main judging function, a couple pitfalls to avoid when dealing with a TJ.

Ti: if your job has regulatory/busywork bullshit, just do it. Yes it’s stupid. It still needs to get done and your complaining is wasting even more time for both you and the TJ in question; it’s fine to do it and then say “hey this was stupid here are my suggestions” but not doing it means that the TJ will have to spend time making up for your lazy uncooperative ass, and nothing will change. Also if this is going to drive you up a wall, consider a field where you can avoid bureaucratic/regulatory bullshit.

Fe and Fi: despite being different types the main thing to avoid here is that unlimited lenience with others; it’s okay to point out someone’s having a rough time, but again, the Te response will be “okay, how do we support that person and make sure the shit still gets done, which may take the form of a leave of absence or a rearrangement of work” and not “oh it’s okay take all the time you need to do this urgent task.”

#mbti #extroverted thinking #Anonymous

[ajokeformur-ray]

Come with me, and you’ll be ... // Wonka x Reader //

@another-day-in-chuckletown - Wonka -  If you are, do you think you could maybe do something for how he and the reader would finally get together? hc’s

This is a request written as a thank you to Kate for being such a wonderful person, brilliant writer and all around firecracker omg we love you, you’re so beautiful inside and out! Enjoy! <3

Word count: 630

Okay but imagine him kneading your ass like that...

You were Charlie's teacher. Initially, you had only been helping out with the bookkeeping when you weren’t too busy, but so adept at your job were you that gradually did you get more responsibility. 

By the time it was known by all in the factory that you and Wonka had feelings for each other (but so intelligent yet so stupid were the two of you that you both somehow... didn’t know), you were almost essential to all in the factory.

You help to build machines and sometimes Wonka and Charlie even bounce ideas off of you. You’re practical and somehow able to talk down the boys from their sometimes insane ideas.

It’s been almost a year to the day that you started working at the Chocolate Factory and you’re working in the TV room.

There’s been trouble on one of the machines and you know exactly what to do. It shouldn’t take you too long, maybe only twenty minutes, but one of the newer Oompa Loompas keeps handing you things that they need help with and you’re significantly distracted.

As the Oompa Loompa handed you another thing which they needed help with, you smiled as patiently as you could, fixed the crooked antenna on the remote, and then got down on your knees so that you could talk to them one on one.

“You know how to fix this, don’t you?”

A slow nod.

“So then, why did you ask me? What are you trying to show me?”

Oompa Loompas aren’t stupid; they’re incredibly intelligent and hardworking and they know how to communicate. Being stealthy, though... not so much.

“What was it this time, Y/N?”

You almost jumped at Charlie’s voice, loud and echoing off the walls, clear as a bell behind you.

“Remote. I don’t know what - “ You sighed. You just wanted to get your work done. You had so much to do today. You straightened up, returned to your work -

Suddenly, a hand wrapped around yours and you were pulled, pulled, across the room and made to stand with Charlie just as Wonka walked into the room.

Your throat went dry. The top hat, the cane, and oh, those eyes... so captivating in that particular shade of purple that you had come to see as his...

“What’s... going on here?” As intelligent as you were, with all the qualifications you held and the training you had had to go through to land this career, and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what was happening.

Charlie and the Oompa Loompa shared a second of eye contact and Wonka giggled. “This is an intervention, isn’t it?”

Charlie was the brave one and with a final pat to the shoulder did the Oompa Loompa walk off. “Yes. You two - have feelings for each other.”

Wonka visibly recoiled and you giggled. “Fe-feelings? I don’t think so.”

“Kiss his cheek, Y/N. Try it - I want to see what he does.”

Charlie was grinning and you swallowed down every doubt, anxiety, fear and worry as you leaned up and pressed your lips to Wonka’s sallow skin. When did the poor man last go outside?

“See? Feelings.”

“What - what was that, Y/N?”

“Affection.”

“Disgusting.” A pause. “Do it again.”

You smiled and you did as he said. 

Again and again and again and - 

It wasn’t easy going and it took a lot for the two of you to actual label what was going on between you.

Wonka thought you were confused and your heart shattered to realise just how damaged this man truly was.

But he wasn’t about to question it. Affection was disgusting, but he liked your particular brand of the stuff and he knew that he never again wanted to go without it.

#charlie and the chocolate factory #catcf #charlie and the chocolate factory 2005 #catcf 2005 imagine #catcf 2005 #willy wonka #idk what this is lmao it might be Bad

[harrysgloves]

Trouble (chapter 5)

>>>Catch up with master list here!<<<

word count: 2.2k

story summary: You’re nothing but trouble and Harry can’t help the fact that he wants a taste.

warnings: Language // Drug Use

chapter summary: You and Harry go to a party

a/n: Everyone can thank my depression for the slow ass updates. Not sure if I’m keeping this series or not but I have it like half done so might as well. Anyways cheers to the drama

>>><<<

After a long week of boring classes, you were so happy for Friday night to finally be here. You were already dressed up and ready to be at the party that everyone else was already at. Dragging the protesting Harry behind you by his hand as your Doc Marten's hit the sidewalk pavement with determination.

"Could have worn a shirt t'the party at least." He groaned behind you. You could hear the pout across his beautifully annoying face as you rolled your eyes.

"Told you already, all the guys' will have their shirts off. Stop bitching." You pulled him harder by the hand forcing him to walk beside you.

"Better let me paint you fo' makin' me walk 'round naked across campus." His arm snaking around your shoulders that cheeky smile on his face as he peered down at you.

"You just want to touch me again." You said, rolling your eyes. A small smile curling at the corner of your lips as your face heated. You couldn't even deny that you wanted him to be close to you again.

"Got me there, love." He teased as you both finally made it to the frat house the party was at.

The sea of people inside the house was slowly starting to flow outside onto the front porch. People, mostly drunk girls, sitting on the lawn, giggling as you passed them. More like as Harry passed them.

"You're hot shit, Styles." You teased as you made your way through the tightly packed entry area.

He rolled those memorizing green eyes at you as you picked out a few paints you wanted to use and paintbrush for both of you. Your hands lingering over the paint bottles as you mentally tried to figure out what you were going to paint on him.

"Me first?" He asked when you finally turned back around, that annoying smug smile back on his face that made you want to kiss him and slap him at the same time.

"Knock yourself out. Just don't get it on that top, yeah? It was expensive." You said as he dipped the brush in paint. You had to brace yourself for how cold that shit was about to be across your skin. Berating yourself silently for not drinking beforehand.

"That was expensive? Half y'tits are hangin' out." He said, laughing when the cold-ass paint first touched your skin, making you jump slightly.

"Hey. It's called being sexy, look it up." You gestured to your outfit which consisted of your tightest pair of black high waisted shorts with fishnets underneath and a white crop top that, yes, showed the bottom of your breasts.

"Pretty sure my picture's next t'the definition 'f sexy, darlin'." He said, his eyes connecting with yours briefly before going back to work on whatever weird design he was painting on you. Which were mostly random swirls and a few flicks of the paintbrush here and there.

Of course, it wouldn't have mattered what the hell he was painting on you. He was so close to you his hot breath was tickling your skin every time he exhaled. Warming up the cold paint within seconds of it being on you.

You felt like your skin was crawling. Wanting so desperately to grab him and kiss him right then and there but you refrained yourself. Trying to reminding yourself that being like that with him again would only add on to the confusion running rampant in your brain.

His fingers brushing against your skin pulled you out of your thoughts. He quickly wiped away the paint from an area close to your hip bone that he messed up. Tingles running down your spine from such a stupid fucking touch made you want to pull your hair out.

At this point, it was just pathetic. Every time he touched you or you even looked at the damn guy you wanted to jump his bones.

You bit your lip as he finished up, all those pesky thoughts still floating around your brain of how he touched you the last time he was with you as he held up the brush once he was done.

"Make it good, yeh?" He said with a smile as you rolled your eyes, your hand snapping the brush out of his hand making him laugh slightly.

"Eyes up." You said, dipping the brush in paint, not wanting him to watch you at work.

"Oh no, you'll paint a dick across me if I do that." He said, backing up slightly as the paintbrush inched closer to his exposed stomach.

"I will not." You held up your pinky finger for him that he reluctantly took after silently debating with himself if he trusted you or not, idiot should have known better.

You smiled sweetly as you bent down in front of him. Looking up to make sure he was actually looking away from you when you first touched the brush to his skin.

"Fuckin' hell that's cold." He hissed, backing away from you. Making you mutter how much of a baby he was being as you pulled him back to you by the back of his thighs.

The smile not leaving your face as you wrote across him. Biting your lip to stop yourself from the giggles wanting to slip passed before standing up and telling him you were done. His eyes traveling down his stomach before a very amused look being shot at you.

"Wanna try it later then if y'think it's so great?" He said a cocky smile across his face at the words Fun Ride written fight above where his pants sat.

"Have fun!" You said starting to turn around before swinging back towards him. Your arms around his neck as his hands held your hips, trying to balance himself as you kissed the side of his cheek.

"There, now you're done." You said pulling away from the confused Harry. A perfect outline of your neon lipstick shining bright in the blacklights as you turned with one last wave to him, disappearing into the crowd.

>>>

It took you less than 30 seconds to find who you were looking for. Your arms going around her waist as you hugged her back tightly against you.

"God, it's a good thing it's you and not some fucking pervert. I was ready to throw my drink on someone." Rose grumbled before turning around to hug you back.

"Nope. Just regular old perverted me." You smiled, taking the drink from her hand and downing it in one gulp. Throwing the now useless cup into the crowd of people.

"Hey! I was drinking that." She whined, making you roll your eyes at her as you took her hand, dragging her through the house towards the kitchen.

"Yeah, well, I don't do cups." You said, throwing open the cabinets that you knew a little too well and grabbing a bottle of vodka.

"How'd you know that was there?" Rose asked as you turned around. A small shrug of your shoulders as you untwisted the cap, taking a drink before handing it to her.

"Fucked the head frat guy douche bag last semester. Found out all their dirty secrets." You smiled as she handed you back the bottle after taking a small sip for herself.

"Of course you did." She said as another arm was thrown over her shoulder, making her look up.

"What's up, ladies?" Finn said with a huge smile on his face as he took the bottle out of your hands taking a large drink from the now half-empty bottle.

"Well, we were having a good time before you showed up." You snatched the bottle back from him making him pout slightly at you. The dumb dork was cute in his own ways but oh so annoying.

"You ditching my boy again, Y/N?" That annoying smile across his face as you took a very long drink from the bottle. The burning sensation washing down your nerves about everyone finding out about your stupid damn obsession with Harry.

"Probably." You shrugged as he tsked you, clicking his tongue.

"Dunno why he's got the hots for ya pretty bad."

"That's exactly why then." You said, taking another drink before handing it to Rose who was not impressed at all with your response.

"You're so stupid. Just go hang out with him. You two would get along really well." She shook her head at you, taking a drink from the bottle before handing it to Finn.

"Yeah! What she said."

"Mhhh, no thanks." You said, your eyes scanning the room briefly before they landed on the tall British fucker in question.

An unfamiliar pit in your stomach forming at the sight of his hands wrapped around the back of some random brunette's neck with his tongue shoved down her throat. You rolled your eyes pointing your friends in his direction with your stare.

"Think he's getting on just fine. Let's dance." You said, finishing off the last of the bottle in Finn's hand and slamming it down on the table.

Really, for as much as you bitched about Harry. You had no right to feel any sort of way about him with someone else. You shook the thought away desperately reminding yourself that you didn't give a single fuck about what he did.

It was strictly physical.

And more importantly, you didn't do anything beyond sleeping with someone.

Ever.

Your hand wrapped tightly around Finn's as you dragged him out to the dance floor. Rose followed shortly behind you two until her very annoying girlfriend interrupted your fun, dragging her away for you.

"That bitch fucking hates me." You said, rolling your eyes as you squeezed through the crowd of people.

"Yeah, well, the British asshole is going to hate me if I dance with you." Finn said as you turned around to face him, your arms around his neck with a small smile on your lips.

"When have you ever cared about that?" You asked, peering up to him as he shrugged slightly. His arms around your waist pulling you close into him.

"Think Harry might actually punch me. Better make it worth it."

"I make everything worth it." You teased, leaning up on your toes to connect your lips with his.

You wished those same types of fireworks happened with Finn, that did with Harry, but it didn't. Your mouth moving slightly out of sync with each other, not working in that magical rhythm that cheeky thick accented fucker managed to know how to do so perfectly.

Yes, it was still a good kiss. And maybe a few weeks ago it would have felt amazing, but now, after Harry, it was just average at best.

"God, you really do like him, don't you?" Finn said when he pulled away from the kiss.

His dark brown eyes filled with a spark of teasing making you huff as you leaned back from him. Shooting him a glare before it faltered from your face. There wasn't a point in lying to him. He could tell from that simple kiss that you definitely had someone else on your mind.

"Trying to not like him." You sighed, laying your head against his chest. Hating yourself for how you felt and how much you really didn't want to feel that way towards him.

Wanting to persevere yourself from any sort of heartbreak happening in the future.

"Dunno why he's not that much of a prick." Finn said as his hand rested against your hair, trying his best to comfort you. Knowing what it was like himself to hate emotions.

"Let's just say it's in the best interest of everyone involved. Let's just forget it. Yeah?" You said, pulling back slightly looking at the very confused Finn. His eyebrows pulled together tightly as he stared down at you.

"Fine." He said, eventually giving up playing the role of matchmaker for the night. His hands reaching in his pockets, pulling out a clear bag with a few pills in it.

"Wanna forget about it? Let's do it the right way then." He held up the small bag in front of you like it was a bag of candy. Shaking the pills back and forth slightly.

"Knew I liked you." You said, reaching up, taking the bag out of his hand and placing a kiss on his cheek.

"Just doing what I do best. Helping people avoid their problems." He said with a smile as you handed two round white pills to him and took two for yourself.

Quickly shoving them down your throat, swallowing them dry. The slight stinging in your throat as they went down causing you to cough before looking back at Finn who didn't even flinch as he took them.

"You're too good at that." You said, rolling your eyes as your arms went back around his neck.

"One of my many specialties." He smiled, hands on your hips bringing you close to him as you started to sway lightly back and forth. Turning around to press your bottom against him.

Determined to forget all those wonderful thoughts of Harry as you lost yourself in the music. The mystery pills taking the edge off your emotions as you danced tightly against Finn. Praying that in the morning those green eyes would be just a distant memory.

#Harry Styles #Harry #Harry Styles x Reader #Harry Styles x You #Harry Styles x Y/N #Harry Styles Fanfiction #Harry Styles Fanfic #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Writing #Mine #Trouble

[ofhoneyandrosepetals]

The Favourite of the Gods

anon requested: Hi! Could you make an imagine where the reader is ivar girlfriend or is very close to him, and instead of killing Sigurd he kills her by accident when she tries to stop him? Pleaseeee

Pairing: Ivar x reader

Warnings: bit of violence

Word count: 1,886

Length: one-shot 

A/N: I wanna thank the anon for requesting this - it sure was a fun thing to write! Already making good time of the quarantine. Stay safe and enjoy xx

Being as close to Ivar as you were had its ups and downs.

Ivar was always very kind and attentive with you. You’ve been by his side for as long as you could remember - you two always played together when you were kids. Aslaug took care of you when you were at the Great Hall, fulfilling as she could the absence of your long deceased mother - a shield-maiden, fighting side by side with Lagertha, the first wife of Ivar’s father.

Ivar and his temper weren’t strangers for you, but most of times you weren’t in his danger area - you could count on one hand the times he had been rude to you, but you were never the reason of it. Also, he had never lost his temper towards you.

How could he?, you being truly loyal to him. You were different from the other kids - you didn’t avoid him and you didn’t paid him any pity behavior. Ivar was simply a kid who couldn’t walk. What was the big deal?

It was no surprise that, as you two grew, so did your feelings for each other.

And it wasn’t a surprise that none of you had the guts to tell each other.

And everyone could see it, except both of you.

But always being by Ivar’s side had a couple of low points, the very first of them being the target of silly stupid jokes of his brothers. The worst of them was Sigurd in the first place, followed by Hvitserk and then Ubbe. In front of you Ubbe was kind, but when he was with his brothers his behavior would totally change.

You never cared about all of that, but Ivar couldn’t help himself - he always snapped at his brothers, mainly Sigurd.

People of Kattegat would always whisper about you - were you two together? How could you like Ivar, one way or another?

You didn’t care for any of it, as long as you had Ivar there with you. He was different not only from his brothers, but from all the people of Kattegat - he was extremely clever, perseverant and had the most unique humour. What the Gods took from him they gave him other things in exchange. 

It was no wonder that, when Ivar came back from Wessex without Ragnar and decided to avenge him with the Great Army, you tagged along. Not in the war, of course - you weren’t a warrior, neither a shield-maiden. You were just you, Ivar’s best friend, the daughter of the smith. Ivar’s love interest - although you didn’t know that.

The Great Army won, and the Ragnarssons were having a feast - Ivar insisted that you joined him at the table with his brothers, but you declined, claiming that only family should be there.

“You are family, Y/N,” he said.

“I mean only the Ragnarssons, Ivar,” you said in a sweet tone.

“Yeah little brother, only men here. Put her in the table with the other women, where she belongs,” Sigurd said. His comment hurt your feelings, for it was quite unnecessary.

“Come on, there is no need for that,” argued Ubbe. Ivar’s gaze was at Sigurd, his jaw clenching, his hands in fist, trying to contain his anger. You held his fist and whispered at his ear:

“It is your victory, Ivar. Do not let him ruin it. I will be fine, truly,” you gave him a soft little smile.

“You will sit at Harald’s table. That is the closest,” Ivar’s tone showed that it would be no argument over it. You nodded and sat between Harald and Halfdan.

“I guess being Ivar’s puppy does not grant you much advantages as you imagined, right?” Halfdan said.

“I am not his puppy,” you said only.

“Of course not,” it was his response.

You were used to these kind of comments, so it didn’t bother you so much.

“He might be young, but he is very much clever,” you said.

“At what point?” Harald asked figuratively.

“To all the points. He is the favourite of the Gods.”

“Favourite of the Gods?” Mocked Halfdan. “It is no wonder that the Gods have a different type of humour,” you slammed your fist at the table.

“The Gods act in the most different ways, that is for sure. But you do not, ever, should doubt of them. Ivar is the favourite of the Gods.”

“Whatever you say. We are just their toys anyway. We only fit to give them joy.”

Ivar was paying attention to what was happening at your table.

“So,” Bjorn stands up and raises his horn. “Our victory was greatly succeeded. Skål!”

Everyone raised their horns.

“Skål!” You said along.

As Bjorn sat down, Ivar began explaining he would stay, but to make use of the Great Army, and not to settle down as a farmer. Many amount of people cheered at him, including you. With an army as great as this one, who would want to stay and settle, like Ivar said? There it was a chance to attack and raid and leave being conquerors. 

As the warriors were occupied talking with themselves, cheering, it seemed to you that the Ragnarssons were having some kind of disagreement. You’ve been by their side long enough to know when the thing was beginning to get serious. Sigurd felt uncomfortable on his seat. 

“Who among you will follow me?” Ivar began again, ignoring his brothers. “Who will follow me into battle, for the love of Odin, the All-Father?!” Most of men were cheering Ivar, applauding him. You followed them into shouts. 

The discussion among the Ragnarssons took place over the table again, this time between Sigurd and Ivar. This couldn’t be a good sign - of course any discussion between these two was a bad thing, but Ivar was already pissed at Sigurd for not letting you sit with them. This could only end badly.

“We have to stick together,” Sigurd was reasoning.

“Frankly, dear Sigurd, I do not care what you say; the truth is, I would not even piss down your throat even if your lungs were on fire,” Ivar said that loud enough so everyone could hear it. You were already standing up, hands on the table, ready to take a step if needed. Everyone laughed of Ivar’s comment.

“Well, maybe that is because you are not really a man, are you… Boneless?” Sigurd had a petulant tone. You had no idea what Sigurd was talking about, nor what did he meant. Ivar freezed, apparently in shock. You went around the table, ready to go up where they were. Ivar was silent while Harald and Halfdan declared their intentions, whether they’re going with Bjorn into the Mediterranean or having other business elsewhere.

Bjorn provoked Ivar about his intentions with the Great Army.

“After all, what kept the Ragnarssons together was the death of their father.”

Ivar leaned on the table, shoving away his shockness. “Who does not want to treat the army together maybe it is you, who wants to go away to sunny places! Everyone else can follow me,” you knew well enough that slightly hint that took over Ivar’s tone.

Sigurd got up, raising his voice. “I do not want to follow you, Ivar. You are crazy. You have the mind of a child,” Ivar growled. 

“And all you do is play music, Sigurd,” Ivar showed his teeth.

“I am just as much a son of Ragnar as you are.”

“I am not so sure. As far as I remember, Ragnar did not play the oud…”

Bjorn interrupted them, trying to make it stop.

“This has nothing to do with you!” Ivar’s tone was one of those, when he was about to completely lose his mind.

“That is not going to end well,” you said to yourself, preparing to climb.

“I guess it must be hard for you now that your mommy is dead, knowing she is the only one who ever loved you,” Sigurd said and, as he said it, you reached at the table.

It was no secret that Aslaug was a sensible matter to Ivar.

“Ivar,” you called him, but his movements were too fast. And you were too late.

When you were right in the line of his sight, his axe was already leaving his hand, aiming at Sigurd. But who could know that you would’ve stayed right in front of Sigurd, just seconds before the axe would hit him?

At first you felt the biggest pressure on your chest, followed by an excruciating pain. Then it was hard to breath and you felt yourself trembling. You couldn’t stop looking at Ivar.

“Stop,” you said too late. It felt like your entire body was late. You extended your arm in Ivar’s direction.

He was in shock. What had he done? When he saw you extending your arm to him he left the chair, crawling to you as you fell.

“Oh by the Gods, what have you done? What have I done? Why didn’t you stay where you were?” His voice was trembling, his eyes already soaked. His hands were caressing your loose hair and your cheeks.

“Because…” It felt impossible to talk. “Because you could not live…” You sighed. “You could not live with Sigurd’s death at your hands…”

“No, you silly woman,” he sniffed. “I could not live with your death. I cannot live without you, Y/N. I can’t,” his tears dropped at your cheeks.

“I… I did not know you would…”

“Me neither. I… I lost my shit, I am so sorry, Y/N. And once again you had to pay for it,” more tears fell.

“I only wanted…”

“To stop the argument, I know my dear, I know,” he touched your forehead with his. “I love you, Y/N. I have always loved you, and not for a second I stopped. I am so sorry, I am so sorry I could only say it now, and not sooner. What kind of a man am I?”

“You are… Ivar… the Boneless…” You made the greatest of the efforts to raise your hand and touch his lips. “I…”

“What?” He said desperate, looking for the words on your face.

“I lo…”

“Y/N? Oh no, no Y/N, just stay with me, stay with me, Y/N!”

“I love you too… my Ivar,” you shut your eyes; you couldn’t take it anymore.

Ivar couldn’t stop shouting your name, and eventually he screamed to the sky, a roar that could’ve reached Valhalla, so everyone in the whole nine worlds would know about your tragedy.

You felt your strength leaving you, your life vanishing. It was calm.

Everyone was looking astonished at Ivar and you. If it wasn’t for you, Ivar would’ve killed Sigurd. He fell on the chair, not believing for a moment how his fate changed in a matter of short seconds.

“No…” It was all what Hvitserk could manage.

Ivar again roared at the sky, and this time thunders answered him, as if Thor was hitting his Mjolnir, letting everyone know about what just happened. The sky became darker and darker until the rain came, washing your blood from the wood while Ivar stayed by your side, holding your hands.

“There it is,” said Halfdan lowly.

“What?” Asked Harald.

“Ivar the Boneless. The favourite of the Gods.”

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[starshine583]

Le Paon Part 4

(Here’s another part of the Le Paon AU! Tell me what you think and if you want more!)

Part 1 / Part 3 / Part 5

Felix didn’t bother hiding his scowl as he marched straight to his father’s office. Sitting in a room with nothing but the monotone voice of underpaid teachers blandly explaining things he’d mastered at the age of five gave him plenty of time to stew about the events of today’s akuma. 

Adrien, smartly, didn’t question his intentions, instead quietly shuffling for the stairs. 

Nathalie, foolishly, stood in front of the door, arching her brow.

“You’re father’s busy right now, Fe-”

“Can it, Sancoeur. I’m not in the mood.” He grit, pushing right past her and ripping the door open.

Gabriel stared down at his computer screen, unblinking, no doubt sketching another design that would look to be inspired from a trash bin. 

Felix curled his hands into fists. The man didn’t so much as glance his way! Did he even care about what happened?

“What was that!” He yelled. 

Gabriel looked at him then, a sharpness in his eyes that made Felix falter for only a moment.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” 

Felix rolled his eyes with a scoff. “Adrien’s out of range so drop it. You nearly killed at least half a dozen people today, me included!”

Gabriel sighed- as if he was the one being outrageous! “I can’t predict where the akumas rampage. If you’re so distressed about it, though, I’ll try to steer them clear of you next time.”

“Forget about the akuma getting to the school!” As annoying as that was. “We almost killed people today!” 

As far as he knew, they probably did kill somebody. “I thought this was supposed to be about the miraculous.”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes. “It is, but sacrifices must be made, Felix.”

Felix opened his mouth to argue, but Gabriel held up his hand to silence him.

“When we get the Ladybug miraculous, everything will be fixed. In the meantime, Ladybug has her ‘miraculous cure’,” A smirk- unsettling, at that -crossed his lips as he gestured to Felix’s chest, “As you’ve seen today.”

Felix tensed, his hand instinctively coming up to touch the previously healed injury from the fight. “How did you..” 

“I see what my akuma sees. I knew everything that happens during the battle.” Something in his tone sounded sinister to Felix. He couldn’t decide if the statement was a threat or simply new information.

“What about Adrien?” He asked next. His little brother might be a bit more naive, but he wasn’t stupid. They couldn’t keep this a secret from him forever. What happened if he found out first? What would he assume? What would he do? 

“He will know when the time is right.” Gabriel answered, turning back to his screen. “Now go finish your homework before your brother gets suspicious.”

Felix bit back a snarky response, spinning on his heel and leaving as told. He made sure to send Nathalie an overly cold glare on his way out, which she returned with an ever-so-faint smirk. Gosh, he couldn’t stand that woman, acting so high and mighty simply because she worked for Gabriel Agreste when in reality she was only a brainless- and infatuated, apparently -puppet who scrambled after his every word. Disgusting.

He opened his bedroom door, and a flash of black zipped by. Felix blinked, reaching up to rub his eyes. Did the lights just black out for a second? Or was he seeing things now? This better not be a miraculous effect.

“Oh, hey, Fe. Done with Father already?” Adrien asked, taking Felix from his thoughts. 

“I only had a few questions to ask him.” He replied, hanging up his bag and turned slightly, just enough for Adrien not to notice Duusu flying into his vest pocket.

“Huh. I thought you’d take longer than that. You looked pretty mad.” 

Felix shrugged, passing the room to lounge on the couch. 

He rolled his eyes when he caught a glimpse of Adrien’s computer screen. “You’re reading that tabloid?” 

Adrien swiveled around in his wheely-chair, clicking the “minus” button on the Ladyblog. “It’s not a tabloid, Felix. All information on the Ladyblog is fact checked and straight from the heroes.”

Felix scoffed, settling on the couch with his book. As if any reporter would ever be that genuine. People who went into that business were nothing more than talent-less idiots desperate for a scrap of fame. 

“Come on, you don’t want to know about Paris’ heroes?” 

“No.” He knew enough about them already, like the fact that Ladybug’s insecure despite being more than capable of her job, and that she probably hated his guts after what he did that morning.

Adrien sighed and turned back to his computer screen. “Well, I think they’re cool. Sucks that the Le Paon guy turned out to be a jerk.”

Felix sat up at that, nearly dropping his book on the floor. “What did you say?” 

“Oh, you’re interested now?” Adrien retorted, rolling back to show him the computer. 

An image of his alter ego clearly kicking Ladybug in the chest resided on the screen, and Felix winced. Adrien kept scrolling, revealing picture after picture of their fight. Who took these? How did he not notice a random citizen taking his photo?

The horrifying collection ended with a video of Alya Cessaire talking with none other than the citizen he saved from The Constructor’s wrecking ball.

~Yeah, I guess he saved me, but who’s to say he wasn’t the reason I was in danger in the first place?~

Note to self: Maybe we should just let the civilians fend for themselves. Felix thought bitterly, though he knew they had a point. It’s hard to appreciate someone saving you when that someone is also the cause of your peril. 

“I heard he even tricked Ladybug into thinking he was a hero before trying to take her miraculous. How can someone be so cruel?” Adrien said, shaking his head.

“Well, neither of us were there.” Felix found himself saying. “Maybe we don’t have the whole story.”

Like their mother currently laying underneath their mansion in an incurable coma, and the possibility of her being saved if the two miraculous were brought together. 

Adrien furrowed his eyebrows. “Fe, he lured her into a false sense of trust for his own personal gain. Only a villain would do something like that.” 

You don’t have to remind me. He mentally groaned. The way Adrien talked made Le Paon sound like some sort of monster. Maybe he was.

“I suppose.”

“Hey, what’s up with you today?” Adrien frowned. “You’re normally the ‘logical’ one here.” 

Felix pulled a small smile. “I’ve been preoccupied is all, adjusting to school life and all of that.”

Adrien hummed. “I guess that makes sense. Anyway, since you’re in a talking mood, what do you think about Chat Noir? He’s pretty awesome isn’t he?” 

Felix tisked, rubbing his side. He remembered the blonde’s staff more than the hero himself. “A good fighter, I’ll give him that, but he’s also reckless. He doesn’t think things through when he attacks.”

Adrien sputtered, obviously trying to find an argument for the statement. 

“I- you -I thought you said you didn’t pay attention to the heroes.” He finally replied with crossed arms. Why did he look so offended?

“I don’t. It’s just an observation.” Felix stated, picking up his book to resume reading. 

“Whatever.” Adrien grumbled, turning back to the computer.

Felix rose a brow, but didn’t bother questioning the shift in mood. Adrien was the one that asked about his opinion. If he didn’t like it, then that was his problem. 

~~~~~~

“Did you guys see the pictures?” Claude asked eagerly, throwing his bag on the desk.

Felix sighed and closed his book. There was no point in trying to read when Claude started one of his stories. 

“The pictures on the Ladyblog?” Allan guessed. 

“Yeah! Credit to the awesome cameraman, of course.” The brunette grinned, straightening with pride.

“Claude, are you sure you should be that close to the fight? Someone almost got crushed yesterday.” Allegra frowned as she sat down next to Allan.

Claude scoffed and waved his hand. “That’s what makes it interesting. Besides, I can’t let Alya down. Who else could get those awesome camera angles?”

“Well, there’s-”

“No one. That’s who.” Claude interrupted, placing his hands on his hips.

Felix rolled his eyes. “Was there a point to this conversation?” 

“Oh, yeah. Did you hear about Le Paon yesterday? What a jerk!”

Felix resisted the urge to face palm. He should have known better than to ask.

“I watched the video, but I didn’t understand what happened. They say the blue guy from yesterday was a villain?” Allan asked. 

“Le Paon and yes, he’s a villain working with Hawkmoth. Rumor has it that Ladybug thought he was a hero at first. Can you believe that? Tricking someone into believing you’re good just to literally kick them down? Even Felix isn’t that heartless!” Claude huffed.

Thank goodness the others were too invested in Claude to see Felix twitch. He couldn’t get a break could he? I mean, he deserved every word, but that didn’t make it any less aggravating. Was everyone going to remind him of his rash decisions this week? 

Allegra hummed, setting her chin on the back of her hand with an amused smile. “Someone more heartless than Felix? That is interesting. Maybe you should make a blog about Le Paon instead.” 

“As if. A blog about Le Paon would never be popular.” Claude replied matter-of-factly.

Allegra narrowed her eyes. “And how would you know?”

“Um, do you see any Le Paon blogs? Have you heard of any?” Claude continued before she could answer. “No. No, you haven’t. Case in point.” 

“Maybe no one’s thought of it yet?” Allan spoke up.

Claude threw him a light-hearted glare. “Don’t side with her.” 

Felix, for once, nodded in agreement. Alya and Claude were bad enough without Allegra and whoever she’d drag along on the scene. It was just more people to save and keep out of trouble, more distractions to keep him from Ladybug and Chat Noir.

“You know what, Claude? You’re on. I accept your challenge.” Allegra decided.

“What?” Felix and Claude asked in unison. Challenge? What challenge? Nobody initiated a challenge!

“I’m gonna make a blog for Le Paon, and you’re gonna sit there and watch the views skyrocket.” She stated, a determined gleam coming to her eyes.

Felix sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. How did he not see this coming? It’s only his luck that these three would inconvenience him in both his civilian and his miraculous life.

“That takes a lot of work, you know. You have to set up the account, find someone for the footage, work out names and contacts. Not to mention listing all of the sources..” He listed off, hoping to dissuade her.

Unfortunately, his words only fanned the flames. 

“Oh, so you’re doubting me too?” She asked, raising a brow.

“I simply-”

“No, I understand.” Allegra cut him off. “You guys don’t think I can make Le Paon a hit because he had a bad first impression.”

“I didn’t say that.” Allan said, somewhat sheepishly.

The blonde smiled, leaning forward to pat him on the head. “I know you didn’t. You’re safe.” 

Allan blew out a sigh of relief and went back to his music. 

“Anyway, I’ll be waiting for an apology when my blog drives Claude’s into the ground.” 

Felix rolled his eyes. So this was really happening. Wonderful. Perhaps Father could persuade some of the akumas to give the reporters a free pass? 

Claude scoffed. “Oh- oh, I see how it is. I was just gonna let you do whatever, but fine. May the best blogger win.” 

Allegra stood, narrowing her eyes with determination. “Don’t worry. I will.”

~~~~~~

Marinette stared down at the screen, a frown tugging at the corner of her lips. What’s the nicest way to say “No” to someone?

“I don’t know, Allegra..”

“Come on, Nette, please.” The blonde pleaded. “Alya has a cameraman for her blog, and I need to out-do her.”

“Why me?” Seriously, why did it have to be her? Why not Allan? Or Felix? Or anyone else who didn’t have a miraculous and a crucial responsibility to protect Paris.

“You’re an artist, which means you have an eye for the best angles and such.” Allegra explained.

“I’m not that kind of artist.” Marinette sighed. “What about Nathaniel?”

You know, someone who actually knows a thing or two about angles?

“He’s too scared to run into the action with me. You’re the only one I’ve seen run towards an akuma fight aside from Alya and Claude!” 

Marinette grimaced under Allegra’s puppy-like gaze. There was a reason she ran into those fights! A very important reason that couldn’t be pushed to the side because of something Claude said earlier!

Her eyes flicked to the phone again, looking over the blue and purple-themed blog that had “Birds of a Feather” at the top. Honestly, why would Allegra even want to make a blog about Le Paon? He’s nothing but a manipulative liar who only cares about himself. 

Allegra waited patiently for her reply, though Marinette knew she wasn’t going to back down if her answer was “no”. If anything, she’d either continue to bug her or find another cameraman to get herself killed with.

“I’ll think about it.” She finally relented, ignoring the thump of her purse against her leg. At the very least, she might be able to steer Allegra out of the akuma’s grasp.

Allegra grinned and threw her arms around Marinette. “Thanks a ton! You won’t regret it, promise!” 

Marinette chuckled, hugging Allegra back. Tikki’s lecture was already playing through her mind. “You shouldn’t put yourself in complicated situations like this. You’re responsibility as Ladybug always needs to come first. At worst, you lied to your friend about being able to make time for her.”

In her defense, it’s not like she could just decline. Everyone knows that when Allegra’s mind is set, there’s no changing it. If she wanted Marinette to be her camerawoman, then that’s what was going to happen, whether it took Allegra constantly asking or “conveniently” finding her during akuma fights and throwing her the phone. That could jeopardize her secret identity. So, when you think about it, she had to help Allegra.

At least, that’s what Marinette told herself during the walk home. 

“Marinette, You forgot to do the dishes last night.” Her mother commented as she opened the front door to the bakery.

Marinette winced. “Ah, sorry Maman. I’ll go do them now.”

Sabine gave her a fond smile and nodded. “There’s a bowl of fruit on the dining room table to snack on while you work on your homework afterwards.”

Marinette kissed her on the cheek with a “thanks!” and headed upstairs. She’d start on the dishes as soon as she let Tikki out of her bag in her room. 

Pushing open her trap door, Marinette gently set her bag to the side and climbed the ladder. Tikki flew out of the unzipped top, fixing her with a displeased look as she pulled out her laptop.

“Marinette, you know better than to make promises you can’t keep.” The small, god-like being began, exactly as she had predicted.

“I know, I know, but what was I supposed to do? She wasn’t going to stop asking, and at least this way, I can keep an eye on her.” Marinette said, repeating the argument she’d prepared earlier.

Tikki sighed, zipping over to the plate of cookies on her desk. “But how are you going to manage recording the akumas and fighting them?”

Marinette bit her lip. “I.. I’m sure I’ll figure something out.”

She opened her laptop and searched for Allegra’s blog again. Because of her internal freak out during the blonde’s request, she hadn’t been able to read the few posts Allegra made. It was a hope that she would have something useful on the mysterious villain.

How did she have time to make this? Marinette thought as she scrolled through the web page. Didn���t she say the argument took place that morning? “Birds of a Feather” already had a theme, introduction, and several pictures- albeit a bit blurry -from the news reports. Unfortunately, the blog didn’t have any new information for her.

“Marinette, you should do the dishes before you forget.” Tikki advised, munching on her second cookie.

Marinette, knowing she was right, sighed and stood up, leaving the computer on. She could always read through the blog later. Dishes shouldn’t take more than twenty minutes, anyway.

She walked back downstairs and turned on the faucet. While the water filled the sink, the dirty dishes were piled on the counter, and a clean space was made for the freshly washed ones. The purple dishrag twisted easily in her hands, letting the soap bubbles run over her fingers. 

Bells chimed faintly below, and Marinette pictured the customer that might be walking in. Maybe a young woman looking for sweets for her daughter’s bake sale. Or perhaps an esteemed gentlemen in need of a caterer to really sell his newest ideas at a business meeting. It might even be a little kid who’d wandered into the store. 

“I’d like two batches of truffles, please.” 

Marinette stopped short when a familiar voice echoed softly through the vents. 

“Of course! Anything else?” Her mother asked politely.

“No, that’ll be all, thank you.” 

Her dish slipped back into the sink. Was that.. Felix? That couldn’t be him, right? She couldn’t sworn Adrien mentioned his distaste for sweets the other day. 

Marinette swiftly washed and dried her soapy hands. Maman shouldn’t mind a small interruption as long as she finished the dishes at some point.

~~~~~~

Felix grumbled under his breath as he felt the car roll to a stop in front of the bakery. He thought that platter of truffles would last Duusu about a week, but she ate them all in one night! How could something so small eat so much? 

A soft bell chime greeted him as he pushed open the glass door, and the smell of freshly baked croissants prompted him to take a deep breath. 

“Can I help you?” 

A small, Asian woman stood at the cash register, offering him a smile that seemed vaguely familiar. 

“I’d like two batches of truffles, please.” He requested.

She nodded, her short, raven hair bouncing with the notion. It reminded him of two pairs of pigtails, one from a spotted heroine and one from a scatter-brained classmate.

“Of course! Anything else?” 

“No, that’ll be all, thank you.” 

The woman took his credit card for the payment and gave him the receipt. She then crossed the shop to a certain glass case and put his truffles in a bag.

“Felix?” 

Felix spun around, surprised to find bluebell eyes staring at him.

Speaking of scatterbrained classmates.

“Marinette? What are you doing here?” 

“It’s.. uhm.. It’s my parents bakery.” She replied, gesturing to the white words ingrained in the glass of the Cashier’s counter.

D-C Boulangerie Patisserie

D-C. 

Dupain-Cheng.

Felix face palmed. “Ah. Of course.”

Marinette giggled and closed the gap between them, choosing to lean on the counter as she asked, “What brings you here? I thought you didn’t like sweets.”

Felix ran a hand through his hair, mind suddenly blank. Why did he come here again?

A small shift in his pocket reminded him, but he couldn’t tell her about that little secret.

“Adrien likes sweets, and the personal chef took the day off for some family emergency.” A half truth. Both statements were accurate, though neither were the reason for his visit.

“Gotcha. Hope everything’s alright with the chef’s family.” 

He nodded, hiding his surprise by glancing at her mother again. (The relationship between the two explained the similar hair and smile.) To be honest, Felix hadn’t thought much about the chef’s situation. He just knew that they were gone, and it was inconvenient. 

Mrs. Dupain-Cheng picked that moment to approach them, bag in hand.

“You two know each other?” She inquired, an odd sparkle coming to her almond eyes.

“Maman, this is Felix. He just started attending our school last week. Felix, this is Sabine, my mom.” Marinette introduced, gesturing between them as she spoke. 

Felix extended his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng.”

Sabine scoffed, taking his hand with both of hers. “Oh no, dear, call me ‘Sabine’. There’s no need to be so formal.”

He returned her soft smile and nodded. It was amazing, honestly. He’d thought Marinette was the only one who could be so warm and inviting, but this entire family screamed “welcome home”. Then again, he supposed she had to learn it somewhere.

“Oh! Marinette, why don’t you show him upstairs? I’m sure he’d love a tour.”

Felix tensed. A tour? Of what? 

“Uh.. sure, but does Felix have time for that?” Marinette asked, sparing him a glance.

The concern was reasonable. Adrien’s schedules were usually packed with lessons and photo shoots and other things Father assumed he needed. Felix, however, had the convenience of being on the business end of the company, meaning he didn’t have to model for their products. It gave him far more free time.

“My schedule is clear for the time being. What are we touring?” 

Duusu could wait for his truffles a little longer. Right now he wanted to indulge on the opportunity to see what exactly made the Dupain-Cheng household so open and relaxing.

Marinette perked up. “Just the house. I mean, you can see the big kitchen too, if you want.”

“I think I’ll save it for later.” He replied, a smirk crossing his lips.

She put a hand to her mouth as she chuckled and spun on her heel. “It’s right up the stairs.”

He followed her up the blue staircase, sliding his hand along the banner as he went. The layout reminded him of an apartment building, with the cracked, wooden floors and old carpet rolled out in the hallway.

Marinette stopped in front of a lone door and easily pushed it open. Felix walked in after her, stepping into another small hallway that led to a decent sized kitchen and family room. 

“This is our place. It’s sort of small, but I like to think of it as ‘cozy’.” Marinette said, stopping at the stairs just inside the house. 

Felix hummed, taking in the environment. A cream colored couch resided on the far left side of the room, with a tv sitting across from it and a small, white coffee table in between. Their kitchen was to the right, mostly counters with a few bar stools to create a useful table when necessary. The many windows shed light on it all, making him wonder how dark it must be at night. 

Next, she brought him up the other set of stairs to a trapdoor. A bit unusual, but Marinette didn’t seem to bat an eye as she threw it open and climbed inside.

The first minutes in the room were spent letting his eyes adjust. If he thought the living room below was bright, then this attic had to be the sun itself. Not to mention everything and anything was all one color: pink. 

“And this is my room.” Marinette announced, walking over to the desk that was tucked between a ladder and the crawl space above.

I can’t imagine it looking any different. Felix thought to himself. Her desk was cluttered with papers and pictures, some of her family, some of her friends, none of him. (Why that bothered Felix, he didn’t know.) Her vanity had a few trinkets on it- a semi-circle shaped box with a notebook inside, a brush, and a round bottle of perfume. A large chaise sat to the right of the room, next to a black, full-length mirror. Lastly, there was a mannequin that stood next to the mirror, wearing an interesting choice of clothing.

“Did you make this?” He found himself asking, feeling the fabric of the pink, fluffed out dress. It’s a design he’d seen yet, and Felix prided himself in memorizing the popular fashions around Paris, Agreste brand included, of course.

“That?” Marinette replied, coming to stand next to him. “It’s just something I’ve been playing with, but yeah, I made it.”

Playing with? The dress was obviously hand-sewn, but in a masterful, refined way. She’d practiced- no, perfected -this craft. The ruffles that started from the waist down were swept over each other like rose petals, soft and delicate. Two butterflies were sewn into the side, almost like ribbons. Each pattern was carefully aligned, spreading black flowers across the pink fabric. Not a single stitch looked to be out of place. This wasn’t something she was “playing with”. This was-

“Amazing.” He muttered. “This is incredible work, Marinette.”

A blush bloomed across her cheeks. “What? No, no- I mean, it’s not even finished yet.”

“Nonsense. This dress is better than most of the atrocities people try to present to my Father.” He insisted.

Her blush deepened, and Felix couldn’t help smiling at it. 

“Do you have any more of these?”

Marinette furrowed her eyebrows. “More of the dress?”

“More of your designs.” He elaborated, straightening to look at her desk full of papers. “I’m sure Father would love to see them.” 

“Your- the Agreste?- I mean, Monsieur Agreste? He’s gonna- my designs?” She sputtered, putting her arms around her face in an odd, box-like position. 

Felix laughed. “If you don’t mind.”

Marinette whimpered- he hoped out of nervousness. It wouldn’t be a good first impression in her home to make her uncomfortable.

“No- uh- It’s just.. What if he- he doesn’t.. Like it?” She asked, fiddling with her pigtails.

“Impossible.” He scoffed. “This dress alone proves how much raw talent you have, and it’s not even finished. If my Father doesn’t see that, then he might as well close his business right now.” 

Felix put a hand on her shoulder. “Marinette, You are unbelievably brilliant. Don’t cut yourself short.”

A bashful smile spread across her lips, but she nodded. “O-Okay. Let me find some that are finished though!”

His hand slipped off her shoulder as she scrambled off to her closet. He followed, ignoring the strange feeling of disappointment at the loss of touch. 

Clothes were thrown this way and that as she searched through the outfits, deciding which one to give him. A small pile had grown in the corner of the room by the time she finally found a suitable arrangement. Two, to be exact. 

“These are the ones I like best. I have the original sketches for them in a drawer, if you want those too.” She offered, handing him the outfits.

“That would splendid, thank you.” 

Marinette crossed the room again, giving him time to inspect the other creations she’d given him. The first was a white, turtle-necked crop top with a pink jacket and black, ripped up jeans. The other was another dress- this time light blue -that was, in a word, frilly. Nevertheless, the material was just as impressive as the outfit on the mannequin.

“Here are the sketches. If you need anything else..” She trailed off.

Felix took the sketches with a nod. “That’ll do perfectly.”

~~~~~~

Tikki quietly watched Felix and Marinette interact from the safety of Marinette’s bed. He’d never see her up there, and if he did, he would most likely assume she’s a toy. 

Her eyes narrowed when the blonde put a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. Something about him seemed.. Off. She couldn’t put her finger on it. There was a certain feeling about him that made her suspicious. What were his motives? Why was he there?

Marinette seemed happy talking to him, blushing and stuttering from his proposal. It was a sweet thing to do, really. Vouching for the ravenette’s designs would certainly help her career.

...but there was still that feeling!

Tikki huffed, zipping down to hide behind Marinette’s computer. The closer she got to him, the stronger the feeling became. Yes, she’d felt this before. It was unique. But where? Why did it bother her? 

Marinette walked over to her drawers while Felix studied the clothes she’d given him moments before. It gave Tikki the cover she needed to sneak over to the chaise. Sitting so close to the boy now, the feeling seemed to overwhelm her- a sensation rippling through her entire body. It wasn’t unsettling, though. It was.. Familiar.

Duusu.

“Here are the sketches. If you need anything else..” Marinette’s muffled voice trailed off, and Tikki peeked around the chaise just in time to see Felix take some papers from her. 

“That’ll do perfectly.”

Tikki frowned. Why would Felix have Duusu? Didn’t Marinette say he was the boy that taught her painting? He was just a high school student. How did he even find a miraculous? 

A buzzing interrupted them, and Felix pulled out his phone.

“Ah. I’m sorry to say I must be going. Father wants me home for homework and violin lessons.”

“You play violin?” Marinette inquired, clearly awed by the fact.

Felix smiled- a smile much too soft for one of Paris’ most wanted. “I do. It’s another talent he thought I should have.”

“Will you.. Do you think you can play for me some time? If it’s not too much trouble, that is.”

Tikki couldn’t help chuckling at her chosen, always so sweet and thoughtful.

The boy’s smile faded, but he didn’t show any contempt either. He looked more of.. Grieved. 

“I’ll have to think about it.” 

“Of course, I completely understand.” Marinette replied, obviously picking up on his shift in mood as well. “See you tomorrow?”

His expression softened again, and he nodded. “See you tomorrow.”

Tikki followed the blonde out of her room- as he insisted he remembered the way back- and made sure to stay well hidden. Marinette had a habit of letting her out of her bag when she thought no one was around. Maybe this boy did the same for Duusu. 

Sure enough, when Felix stepped out into the hallway, He took one of the truffles he’d purchased and stuffed it in his vest pocket. Someone who wore designer clothing wouldn’t put chocolate in their pockets so casually.

A few seconds later, a small voice piped up. “Mm, these are delicious! So much better than the bland ones your chef made!”

Tikki barely held back a gasp. She’d recognize that energetic voice anywhere.

“Hush, Duusu. Wait until we’re at home to talk, remember?” Felix scolded in a whisper, shooting his vest a disapproving look.

“Of course! I’m sorry.” Duusu apologized.

“It’s fine, just wait till later.” 

Tikki frowned. The character Felix had shown so far was nothing but respectful, solemn, and kind. None of those traits were usually found in a villain. So why would he help Hawkmoth? Why betray Ladybug’s trust and choose to fight for the wrong side?

“Oh, there you are, Tikki! Where did you go?” Marinette asked when she flew back to the room.

“Just checking something.” Tikki answered, going back to her plate of cookies. She didn’t want to tell Marinette about Duusu yet, not until she spoke to the Master. He would know what to do about all of this.

“Oh.. okay.” Her chosen shrugged. “Well, did you see Felix? Did you hear us talking?” 

“I did, and I’m excited for you!” Despite her concerns about Le Paon, the boy was promising a future for Marinette’s dream career. That was something she could support for the time being.

Marinette squealed, falling onto her chaise in a puddle of pure bliss. “I’m excited too, Tikki! He was so sweet and- oh, he liked my designs! He said I was brilliant!” 

“That’s because you are brilliant, Marinette.” Tikki remarked, snuggling her holder’s cheek.

The ravenette giggled, returning the hug by cupping her with her palm. “I hope we get to talk again soon.”

Tikki simply smiled. Marinette deserved to be happy. She didn’t want to ruin that until she knew she had to.

-

The silence of the night strengthened Tikki’s resolve to stay as quiet as possible. Marinette mustn't find out about her sneaking out. The Master was adamant that he be kept a secret until they were told otherwise.

So, as her chosen cuddled under the covers and muttered about hamsters and paintings, Tikki flew through the trap door above and headed for Master Fu’s. 

To say she was surprised when she found him already talking to Plagg was an understatement.

“Hello, Tikki. You’re just in time.” Master Fu greeted, gesturing for her to take a seat on the table.

“Hey, Sugar cube. What brings you here so late?” Plagg asked with a grin, causing Tikki to roll her eyes.

“Don’t call me that, and I’m here about Duusu.” 

“Oh, so you figured out Chuckles was Le Paon, too?” He guessed, before putting a whole slice of cheese in his mouth.

Tikki gave him a look. “Who?”

Plagg took a minute to chew, before answering.

“He’s-” Bubbles forced themselves out of Plagg’s mouth before he could finish. 

“He’s my kid’s brother.” He rephrased.

“How did you find out about it, Tikki?” Master Fu interrupted, focusing on the task at hand.

“Felix came to-” Bubbles came of Tikki’s mouth as well.

“Felix came to our house today,” She continued, “And I heard him talking to Duusu on the way out.” 

Master Fu nodded, stroking his chin with a thoughtful expression. “Plagg hasn’t been able to get information about Hawkmoth from Duusu. Have you heard her say anything?”

Tikki shook her head. “I only heard her talking to Felix about the truffles.”

“Should I tell the kid? We’re supposed to be stopping them as soon as possible, right?” Plagg asked.

“True. Neutralizing an enemy would be helpful.” Master Fu began slowly. “However, we still don’t know who Hawkmoth is. If we take Felix’s miraculous, Hawkmoth will know we’re onto him. We need to be careful.”

“So.. what do we do about our chosens?” Tikki dared to ask.

“Keep them in the dark for now. Once we find out Hawkmoth’s identity, they will be able to know everything. Until then, I don’t want things getting out of hand.”

Tikki and Plagg nodded. 

“Now go back to your holders before they get worried.” He instructed, shooing them off.

The kwamis did as they were told, each flying off in different directions, both hoping everything would turn out better than the situation deemed it so.

Tag List: @im-here-for-the-content @novicevoice @mewwitch@minightrose @frostymoon11 @multishipper1needshalp@unabashedbookworm @unholykrow @trubel43@kaydenth3gayden @stardustrevoutionx @legendaryneckjudgestudent @aurordraws @crazylittlemunchkin @weird-homosapien @celestethegoddess @imnostrangertodisasters

#Felinette #Le Paon AU #Felix Agreste #Marinette

[fic-art-blurbs]

Felix Trio Shenanigans

This was literally written just for @codysenshi20 thank you for accompanying me while I wrote this ily friend

Felix...was having a very strange day. One moment, he was training in the monastery grounds, waiting for when the Professor would be telling them where they'd be off to next, and the next the ground suddenly opened up underneath him. And not only did the ground open up underneath him, but he fell onto a very hard, very unfamiliar floor, and then felt something - or rather, someone - land right on top of him with a loud thud and the breath practically being forced out of him.

And as the cherry on top of a very confusing sundae, he looked up to see his own face staring back at him. Albeit with messy hair, horns, and bags under his eyes that reminded Felix of the Boar.

Needless to say, he was having a strange day. Maybe even a rough day.

"Get the FUCK off of me - what the hell is going on?!" He grunted, pushing himself off the floor and whoever was on top of him onto the floor.

Though he did pause when he heard a familiar voice going "ack-!" at the sudden movement. In fact, it almost sounded like his voice.

Felix blinked. On the floor in front of him was a very familiar face staring right back at him, in full armor (holy fucking shit was he lucky to just get the wind knocked out of him) as he pushed himself off the floor. Felix stared at the armored-him, glanced back at the Boar-looking-him, rubbed his eyes, and glanced between them once again. Then, after taking a deep breath, he spoke.

“What, and I cannot emphasize enough, the fuck is going on?”

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

As it turns out, it was the Boar-looking-him - Fe, as they all agreed on calling him, as strange as using his childhood nickname to refer to another version of himself was - was the one that got them in this mess. Somewhat unintentionally. Okay, maybe very unintentionally.

The point was, they were gonna be stuck there until the tomes that could make portals to their worlds were found, so until then they might as well start getting comfortable. Unsurprisingly, Felix did not take this so well.

Very surprisingly, the armored-him - Feli, as they were now gonna be calling him - didn’t seem to be taking this nearly as bad as Felix himself. On the surface at least. Just one look at those clenched fists was enough to tell Felix two things.

One, this was definitely a version of him from some other universe or world or whatever.

And two, he was very not happy about this.

“So, we’re gonna be stuck here. For weeks, if we’re lucky.” Feli’s voice was strained, though Felix had to give him credit for managing to sound calmer than he could.

Not that he’d say so out loud, of course. 

“Yeah, so might as well get comfortable,” Fe said, looking over them both. “You two are taking this surprisingly well.”

“Well, how the flying fuck did you expect us to react?” Felix said in a deadpan tone, rolling his eyes. “Oh boy, we’re suddenly in this brand new world all because of some dumbass wanting to fuck around with things he shouldn’t have.”

Fe just grimaced at him. Felix tried to suppress the shiver that crawled up his spine at the way Fe seemed to be staring right through him. When the fuck did he get that kind of thousand-yard stare?

“Maybe be nicer to the only person that has a shot at getting you home, dumbass,” Fe said in a low tone, still staring right at him. 

“Well we wouldn’t be in this situation in the FIRST place if you’d kept your nose out of things it shouldn’t be poking into!” Felix felt his voice raising as he retorted, feeling that anger bubbling up out of him. 

If anything, Fe’s stare seemed to go even further, his eyes narrowing as they became colder. “Better than never leaving my little bubble of comfort because I’m scared of getting hurt.”

Felix’s anger bubbled over at that. He leapt up from where he’d been sitting, a snarl appearing on his face. “Why you-!”

Suddenly, there was a hand on his chest, pushing him back away from Fe. Felix looked over to see Feli with narrowed eyes giving him a look. One that was very clearly telling Felix to watch his mouth. 

“I think we’re getting a bit heated here. How about you sit your ass back down, and we not yell at each other over spilled milk.” Feli’s tone was solemn, almost daring Felix to just say something else to get his ass kicked.

For once, Felix shut his mouth, and sat back down. Fe continued to stare at him with narrowed, cold eyes, and he knew Feli was watching him out of the corner of his eye. 

Felix sighed. This was going to be a long, long few weeks.

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

Felix had now been stuck in Fe’s world along with Feli for the better part of two weeks. In that time, he had gotten to learn his counterparts quite well. Sort of. Maybe.

Okay, if he’s being honest, not really. He knew more about Feli than he did Fe, but there was one thing he knew for certain.

Both of his counterparts had very weird taste in men, let alone any romantic partner.

Seriously, out of all people, Ashe?? As in, knight-hopeful, far too cheery, constantly-toting-chivalry-around-like-a-cape Ashe???

How in the fuck did this even come to be??

In his world, while he and Ashe might’ve been on good terms, it was barely scratching the surface of “friends” if he was being generous. It was definitely nothing like what he was seeing with these two. More specifically, what he was witnessing whenever Feli and Fe rambled (rambled! Like some kind of lovestruck teenager!!) about their respective Ashes.

Even more specifically, what he was witnessing right in front of him right now. Namely, the way Fe was curled up next to Ashe, one arm wrapped around him and practically tucking his head under Ashe’s neck. 

Feli wasn’t even confused like he was by how affectionate they were being, out in the open - something that, even if Felix were to consider being with someone, would never imagine - though perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised by that considering Feli was also with an Ashe (the traitor). Instead he just sighed like some yearning fool, quietly mentioning how he missed his own Ashe. 

Felix couldn’t keep the shock off his face as Fe nuzzled, nuzzled, like some kind of cat, right into Ashe’s neck, and Ashe giggling in response. Eventually, he just couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer. 

“How the fuck did this even happen??” he blurted out, the disbelief clear in his voice. Fe just blinked at him almost sleepily.

After a moment of silence, he spoke. “Well you see, I just climbed up here and started cuddling with him, because I love and adore him, something you could only dream about.”

Felix’s jaw just dropped open at that response, distantly hearing Feli’s quiet “ooooohhhh” and Ashe’s almost startled laughter. After a moment, he spoke again.

“I wasn’t talking about that! Why the fuck would I even dream about that? I was talking about how the fuck you two even...happened!” He exclaimed, gesturing to them wildly.

Fe stared at him. He did that a lot. “Sounds like what someone who’s jealous about not getting to cuddle with the best boy in the entire world would say.”

Felix sputtered at that, indignation rising up in him. “You-!”

“Besides,” Fe continued, as if Felix hadn’t even spoken, “it took us five years of getting over our stupid pining to be able to even try dating. And I’m very happy that we did. Maybe wait another five years and you’ll get to have this with your Ashe.” As if to punctuate his statement, he hugged Ashe a tad bit closer to him and gave him a little peck on the cheek. 

As Feli laughed at that in the background, mentioning his own pining after Ashe before they got together, Felix learned another thing.

He really just wanted to go back home. Away from these two and their stupid Ashe obsession.

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

Three weeks into their unwanted stay, Felix learned another thing about his two counterparts.

They were not quiet in the slightest.

It was almost like they were doing it on purpose. It felt like they were doing...doing it every other goddess-damned night, preventing him from getting any actual sleep. He tried. Goddess knows he tried.

Goddess knows he did not want to know what Ashe sounded like during those intimate moments.

It was after three weeks, three weeks, of hearing either his counterparts or this world’s Ashe yowling like some kind of dying cat throughout the night that he finally snapped. The next morning, Felix marched right up to Fe as he was lounging on the couch, and finally went off at him. 

Or, that’s what he hoped. 

“You do realize that there are people in this household trying to get some actual sleep, you sex-obsessed lunatic?!”

Fe just blinked at him, almost sleepily. If Felix really thought about it, it almost reminded him of a cat. “Oh really? I hadn’t noticed.”

Felix felt his expression grow angrier at that. “Couldn’t you maniacs at least keep it down?! I swear to the goddess, even living next to Sylvain during our Academy days wasn’t nearly as bad…”

Fe blinked at him again, before a slow grin spread across his face. “I mean, if it really bothers you, you could just join us.”

Felix felt the anger completely vanish, in favor of a cocktail of emotions he couldn’t even try to name as his face heated up. “What-?!” 

“I know you heard me. Clearly you need it. I’ve never seen anyone with a stick further up their ass than you,” Fe almost drawled. “If you’re gonna have something up there, it might as well be something you enjoy.”

Distantly, Felix heard laughing he registered as Feli’s. Felix couldn’t even get angry about being laughed at, however - all he felt was what almost felt like embarrassment of all things rising as he tried to get ahold of his composure.

Judging by the still-present grin on Fe’s face, he wasn’t succeeding. 

He spun around and headed off back to his room, trying desperately to keep those images out of his brain as Fe called out after him, “The offer still stands!”

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

Four weeks into their unwanted stay, Felix was getting sick and tired of being here. He just wanted to go home dammit. Admittedly, his want to go home was seeping into his attitude, making him snappish and grumpier.

...Well, moreso than usual. But he was only usually that way because of these two Ashe-obsessed, sex-crazed maniacs.

Feli and Fe seemed to get along just fine. Much better than the fights Felix usually ended up picking with Fe. Well, he calls them fights, but it was more of a “very heated discussion”.

Thanks to the fact that Feli, the absolute fucking traitor, had started spraying him with water from that stupid-as-fuck bottle like he was some kind of cat that needed to be disciplined!

Just like right now. Felix was started to get more heated at Fe, his voice raising more and more even as Fe started shrinking in a little on himself the longer they “talked”. Just as Felix was about to finish his rant-

Spritz spritz!

“Gah-! What the fuck?!” Felix sputtered as he wiped the water away from hi face, opening his eyes to find Feli standing nearby with an unimpressed, almost disappointed look on his face as he held that stupid bottle in his hand. 

“You were getting too heated there, asshole. Calm down before you explode,” Feli stated dryly, not lowering the bottle in his hand at all.

“I was just-!” Before Felix could even continue talking, Feli pushed down the little trigger on the bottle, and more water sprayed out into Felix’s face. “Would you give it a fucking rest?!”

“Not until you say you’re sorry,” Feli stated.

Felix stared. Feli stared back. They held a miniature staring contest, neither willing to back down on this point. Feli started pushing down the trigger again…

“Alright, alright! I’m sorry! Just put that fucking bottle down!” Felix said in a rush, backing away a little without even realizing it.

As Feli asked Fe if he was okay, Felix continued wiping the excess water off of his face. He really wished he was home right now.

And that he could hide that fucking bottle somewhere it would never be found.

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

Finally, finally, after five, goddess-damned weeks in this cursed place, the stupid tomes that could bring them home were finally found. When Felix got the news from Feli, he almost felt like dancing. Finally, he could leave, and go back to where things were normal.

No weird Ashe obsessions, no noises in the middle of the night stopping him from sleeping, and best of all, no more of that accursed spray bottle.

Now the portals back to their own worlds were open, and Felix and Feli were able to head home. Feli was already muttering to himself about finally getting to see his Ashe again. Felix wanted him to shut the hell up.

“Guess it’s time to say goodbye, huh,” Fe said dryly, standing there behind them as they got ready to head through their respective portals. 

“Yeah,” Feli responded first, “thanks for making our stay pleasant.”

He paused. He looked at Felix, then back to Fe.

“Correction.Thanks for making my stay pleasant.”

“No problem,” Fe replied, a rare casual smile easing on his face. “I enjoyed having you around.”

Then Fe looked over to Felix, his smile vanishing. “Sure wish I could say the same about both of you.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Let’s just go home,” Felix rolled his eyes as he spoke, though he had to remind himself in the back of his mind that the spray bottle wasn’t here to get him for talking back. “I’ll be glad to never see you two again.”

Feli shot him one last look before waving bye to Fe and walking through his portal, with said portal closing behind him. Felix watched him go, then belatedly realized Fe was suddenly standing right in front of him.

“What?” Felix couldn’t help but ask, annoyance creeping into his tone. “I don’t like you, you don’t like me, so how about you just let me go with no fuss.”

“Yeah, I don’t like you.” Fe said it so easily that Felix actually started getting angry. Before he could say anything though, Fe continued. “But whatever, you might have your swords, and a sad, sad lack of Ashe in your life, but I’ve got one thing over you that you’ll never have.”

Despite the anger simmering just below the surface, his curiosity won out. “And just what is this thing?”

Fe looked at him, actually meeting his eyes for just what might have been the first time since Felix arrived in this world. “I have updog.”

Felix raised an eyebrow. “What is updog?”

Fe stared at him. Then grinned, wider and wider until he started cackling. Hard enough that Felix started to get uncomfortable. Then, placing a hand on Felix’s chest, Fe met his eyes again with that huge grin still on his face.

“Nothing much, what’s up with you?”

And with that, Fe shoved him backwards into the portal, with that stupidly prideful grin haunting Felix’s sight until the portal closed behind him.

#actual fic #felix #au #felix trio au #absolute crack #rip felix bullied for 2.5k+ words #your sacrifice is greatly laughed at

[7-wonders]

Bad Apple

Summary: Just when it seems as if Michael’s getting everything he’s ever wanted, it becomes too good to be true.

Word Count: 3558

A/N: You see what I did with the title? Eh? Eh? Welcome to the newest chapter of Mad Love! Buckle up friends, this is going to be a wild one. Seriously though, I’m not sure how I feel about this chapter or if I crammed too much in, so actual constructive feedback would be appreciated. If you enjoyed, I would love if you left a like, comment, or reblog. There is a content warning for sexual situations under possible dubcon conditions, but I promise it will be okay. Happy reading!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13

Michael senses you before he sees you. He’s thankful for this certain gift of his, not able to take his attention away from the dull conversation between two contentious world leaders. You were gone just long enough to start making him worry that something bad had happened to you; with the witches still determined to destroy him, anything that Michael holds dear is now in danger. You slide into the chair next to Michael, gripping his hand as he finishes discussing the logistics of various nuclear arsenals located around the world. The tight hold that you have on him makes Michael wonder if something scared you when you were getting some air, and he makes a mental note to ask Ms. Mead to check the security feeds to ensure that nobody or nothing gave you a hard time when you were alone.

“Finally,” you mutter into Michael’s ear when the impromptu meeting is concluded, “I thought they’d never leave.”

He stiffens when you kiss his jawline, making your way down his face until you reach his lips. “(Y/N), are you okay?”

“Of course I’m okay. Is it so bad for me to kiss you every once in a while?”

“Well no, but you’ve made--”

“I could stop, if you don’t like it,” you tease, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“It’s not that I don’t like it, I’m just surprised you’ve changed your mind.” You shrug in response, laying one more kiss on him before settling back in your chair and lifting your glass up to your smirking lips.

The remainder of the event passes by dreadfully slow, with the only entertainment the chaste touches Michael shares with you. He hasn’t kept too watchful of an eye on you, which means you probably had one too many drinks that have made you a giggling, affectionate mess. You haven’t left his side since you returned, something that pleases Michael immensely. This is how it should be, and this is how he hopes it remains.

“Seriously, how much have you had to drink tonight?” Michael asks in the car, smiling as you cuddle into his arms that are wrapped around you.

“I already told you, I only had one!”

“You don’t have to be scared to tell me, (Y/N).”

You smile up at him from where your head is leaning against his chest. “Michael, I promise that I’m telling you the truth. Now just be quiet and hold me.”

“I’m happy to oblige.” Michael closes his eyes, placing his chin on the top of your head. If he could, he would want nothing more than to bottle this moment up so that he can return to it whenever he wishes.

The manor is silent when Michael enters with you, the closing of the door echoing through the foyer that you had descended into mere hours prior. It almost feels like you’re in an extended dream state, every sense seeming warm and fuzzy ever since...since...well, you can’t remember what since, but you know that this feeling is associated with Michael, and that makes you want to bask in this feeling forever. Michael’s smile shines brightly, reminding you--as if you could ever forget--of just how much you love him. It feels as if your heart is beating solely for Michael, every blue-eyed glance he sends your way sets your heart thumping wildly. 

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

Mi-chael. Mi-chael. Mi-chael.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Michael says, stirring you out of your reverie. 

He leads you up the winding staircase and down the hall to your bedroom, the door opening to reveal the twinkling fairy lights that you strung up when you first moved in. Standing back from Michael, you slowly close the door behind both of you. He turns around to check on you, but you meet him with a kiss before allowing him the opportunity to question you.

“What are you doing?” Michael mutters against your lips, weaving an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

“Kissing you.” Michael bites your bottom lip, making you gasp.

“And doing it very well, I might add.” You lean your forehead against his, shoulders heaving as you catch your breath.

“Michael, I want you.” You walk with Michael back towards the bed, falling onto the soft mattress.

“Oh,” he breathes, almost not believing what he’s heard. “Are you sure?”

“I can’t keep up the charade of not wanting you anymore.” Michael’s large hand goes to the strap of your dress, sliding it down your arm so that he can caress your bare shoulder. 

“Promise me that you’re sober,” he pleads earnestly. “I will not take advantage of you if you’re not.”

“I’ve already told you that I barely had anything to drink tonight.” You push stray strands of golden hair out of Michael’s face, gazing up at him. “Please.”

Michael kisses you hungrily, hands roving up and down the planes of your body. Your head falls back against the pillows as you let out a quiet hum at the feeling of his full lips against your skin. It’s wonderful, like everything you’ve ever dreamt it would be. Michael sits up with you, unzipping your dress and letting it pool around your waist. Michael skillfully unclasps your strapless bra, hands cupping your breasts roughly as you quickly fumble through unbuttoning his shirt. He nearly throws you back against the pillows once more, and you cry out in anticipation.

“I love you!” you gasp, eyes screwed shut as he tweaks one of your nipples between his fingers.

Michael stills, sitting back on the heels of his feet in shock. “W-what?”

“I love you, Michael,” you say earnestly. “I’m sorry for being so stubborn and rejecting you. I was just scared. I love you, and I need you more than I’ve ever needed anyone or anything. 

“If I was dying of thirst in a desert and had to pick between a deep pool of water or a mirage of you, I’d pick my hallucination. You’ve loved me endlessly and faithfully since the day we were married. I’ve failed as your wife in the past, but I won’t anymore because I love you, and I’m not afraid to admit it now.”

Michael stares at you in disbelief, his hand almost shaking as he presses it against your cheek. You lean into his touch, kissing the palm of his hand and looking at him with the same sleepy eyes as before.

He pauses when he looks at your eyes, staring into them with suspicion. This entire night has seemed too good to be true, and he’s starting to worry that he’s right.

“(Y/N),” Michael says cautiously, “tell me what you did when you left to go and get some fresh air.”

You groan. “Seriously?”

“Please, my love.”

“Fine,” you agree begrudgingly. “I...went to go and sit on a bench, because it was too cold to actually go outside. I was checking my phone when a waitress came up to me, and then--”

Michael stares at you as you furrow your eyebrows in concentration. “And then what?”

“I--I can’t remember. She gave me something, maybe a drink?” You rub your forehead, fighting off a sudden headache. “I think it was a cocktail. And then, the next thing I remember is sitting back down next to you.”

“And that was the only drink you had today?”

You nod. “It was pretty good, actually. It tasted like apples and cinnamon.”

Michael’s never been on a roller coaster before, but the oft-repeated simile of your heart and stomach dropping dramatically right before the roller coaster drops as well is one he thinks could apply to how he feels right now. His face pales, the smile he had previously been sporting falling to a frown. Apples. How could he have been so stupid as to let you be on your own mere weeks after Satan had attempted to “clear” your mind?

Now, he’s faced with a decision that he hoped he wouldn’t have to encounter again. The drink, his father’s work, has done what was promised. You love him unconditionally, and isn’t that all that he’s wanted since he first laid eyes on you? But he knows this isn’t you talking, not really. It may be your voice, but this is not you.

He stands from the bed, buttoning his shirt back up. You look up at him in confusion, crawling towards him as he looks away from you.

“Put your clothes back on, (Y/N),” Michael mutters.

“What? Michael, what’s wrong?”

“My father is what’s wrong.”

Mild disgust crosses your face. “I mean, while I’m certainly thankful that your father created us for each other, I don’t see why you’re thinking about him when we’re about to have sex for the first time.”

“That’s the problem!” Michael exclaims, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “(Y/N) wouldn’t say nice things about Satan.”

“I’m confused, am I suddenly not myself?” You don’t bother to put your bra back on, but you do slide the straps of your dress over your shoulders once more.

“Say something mean about me,” Michael demands. “If you’re not under the influence of Satan, give me a snide remark about how I always look like I’m going to a Renaissance Faire or something similar.”

You stare at him for a long moment. “I--I can’t, I wouldn’t.”

“Yes, you would! And you do! Yesterday you said that I act like someone is holding me hostage whenever we go out in public and then proceeded to tell me to blink once if I was being threatened.”

You grab Michael’s hand, trying to get him to look at you. “And I shouldn’t have said that to you, it was rude and uncalled for.”

“See,” Michael finally turns around, “that’s how I know you’re under Satan’s influence. You show your affection by sarcastic comments, and you would have appreciated your so-called ‘genius’ with that particular jab.”

“It was the only way I knew how to deal with my feelings! But I’m over that now, because I--”

“Don’t say it,” Michael commands sharply. He sits next to you with a heavy sigh, defeatedly allowing you to move his arm around your body. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I’m so, so sorry.”

You smile sadly. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“It’s all my fault,” he mutters to himself. “I...I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to fix this.”

“How to fix what?”

“How to undo this magic.”

You’re not sure what he’s talking about, but you can’t bare to see him so distraught. “Well, you’re always talking about the witches. Maybe they could help?”

“No.” Michael shakes his head. “No matter how much trouble we’re in, I could never ask the witches. They would kill me.”

“Surely there’s other people who use magic?” Michael nods slowly, lost in thought as he tries to think of a solution.

“Give me one second.” He reaches for his phone, unlocking it and searching for a number. You watch as he holds the phone to his ear and waits for the person on the other end to pick up, admiring the way his hair is perfectly, effortlessly curled.

“Dinah, thank you for picking up. I know I promised that I was only going to need a single favor from you, but I need your help again.” He pauses, listening intently. “I understand, and we can negotiate compensation for you upon completing what I ask of you.”

“Who are you talking to?” you whisper, but he ignores you.

“I’ll send you the address, can you be here within twenty minutes? Yes, okay.” Michael pulls the phone away from his face and hangs up.

“Is everything okay?”

Michael smiles, running a hand through your hair. “It will be. An acquaintance of mine will be coming over in a few minutes; why don’t you go and put on some non-formal clothes before she arrives?”

“Will you help me get undressed?” You bat your eyelashes at him in an obvious attempt to pick up where he left off. 

“No, (Y/N). You’re perfectly capable of changing your own clothes.” You stand up, shrugging. 

“Oh well, it was worth a try.” Michael allows you to kiss him, his head only falling into his hands after you leave.

Exactly twenty minutes later, the doorbell rings. The emerald green dress has been replaced by a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt from high school. Michael’s version of “dressed down” is wearing a soft long-sleeved black shirt and forgoing the Gucci belt he was wearing, but that’s expected.

Michael opens the door, revealing a shorter woman with a colorful head scarf tied around her styled afro. She smiles thinly at him, setting a large bag down on the floor.

“Michael,” she greets, holding a hand out for him to shake.

“Dinah.” It’s when Michael says her name that it finally clicks for you.

“Holy shit, you’re Dinah Stevens!” She smiles bashfully, but you can tell that she loves the notoriety.

“In the flesh.”

“Michael, your colleague is a talk show host?” you ask in confusion, Dinah clicking her tongue in disdain.

“I’m also the voodoo queen of New Orleans, thank you very much.”

“Did you have a chance to read the information I sent you?” Michael questions, done with pleasantries.

“Yes, baby Satan.”

You tilt your head in confusion. “What information?”

“Nothing for you to worry about, sweetheart.” Dinah looks at you. 

“You don’t get to decide that for her,” Michael says through gritted teeth. “(Y/N), it seems that my father may be influencing your mind. Dinah’s here to help us.” You nod, but you feel like you’re not as concerned as you should be. After all, you’re with Michael, and nothing can harm you when you’re with Michael.

“Mind if I ask you a few questions?” Dinah steers the conversation back to the reason why she’s here in the first place.

You shrug. “Yeah, fire away.”

“Let’s continue this conversation in my office,” Michael gestures upstairs, leading your small trio to the spacious office on the second floor. Dinah takes a seat in front of the desk, with you sitting in a chair next to her as Michael sits behind the desk.

“(Y/N), do you remember what the waitress said to you when she handed you the drink?” Dinah begins her questioning once everybody’s seated.

“Uh, she had told me that it was the house special and that it was the last one she had. I figured one drink wouldn’t be too bad, especially since I was nervous, so I took it.”

“Mhm, and do you remember Michael’s followers kidnapping you and forcing you to marry him?” Michael winces at the reminder: although Dinah had warned him that she was going to be blunt in an attempt to see just how much Satan’s spell covered, it still stings.

“Well yes, but it was really the only way. I mean, can you imagine me doing that willingly? It had to happen the way that it did.”

“Okay. What happened after you drank the cocktail?”

The same pained expression as before appears on your face as you try to think. “I don’t know. Everytime I try to remember, my head just hurts really bad.”

Dinah chews her bottom lip, thinking. “Gimme your hands.”

You look at Michael in concern, but he nods that it’s okay to do so. When Dinah does grab your hands, her eyes go wide. The dark brown of her iris is replaced by an electric blue, and though it looks like she’s staring at you, you can tell that she’s staring right through you. After a couple of minutes, she lets go of your hands with a gasp, panting at the exertion.

“So?” Michael asks eagerly, barely letting Dinah regain her bearings. “Can the spell be reversed?”

“Ah ah ah!” Dinah chides, wagging a finger at Michael. “I believe you mentioned something about a payment?”

Michael huffs. “Fucking voodoo queens, you’re all the same.” She raises her eyebrows in response; challenging him. “Name your price.”

“I want Marie Laveau’s old territory, in the heart of the French Quarter,” Dinah demands with hardly a moment’s hesitation.

“You know Papa Legba does not take too kindly to me broaching his domains.”

“Nobody said that you had to step foot in New Orleans.”

The two powerful beings stare each other down, both daring the other to relent. Finally, Michael sighs. “Consider it done.”

Dinah’s chin raises victoriously. “What do you have in terms of potion ingredients?”

“Say the word, and it will be at your disposal.”

The voodoo queen waits for Michael to produce a cauldron-like bucket, pulling a weathered book out of her bag once he’s set the large bowl on the ground. “Let’s get to work.”

Michael and Dinah work in tandem, the voodoo queen (she had reprimanded you for referring to her as a witch) calling out different ingredients and the Antichrist conjuring them for her. Some, like anise and lavender, are commonly found in nature and thus familiar to you. Others, such as wormwood and twice-blessed water, you had believed to be purely used in fiction. You’re fine with watching the two figure this out on their own, knowing that you’re nowhere near useful in this particular situation.

“Are you sure it’s safe for me to drink something that contains human blood?” Your nose crinkles in disgust as Michael slices his hand open, the blood dripping into the boiling mixture.

“Safer than you drinking a cocktail made specially by Satan,” Dinah quips, gesturing for Michael to stand back as she starts to chant. 

You don’t know what language she’s speaking in, but you do catch the name “Papa Legba,” the man (demon? You’re not sure) that Michael had referenced earlier, repeatedly. Dinah comes to a stop just as quickly as she started, stirring the mixture once more before nodding.

“It’s done,” Dinah says. “The reversal of the darkest kind of magic will be painful, more painful than what I believe the original effect of that magic was on (Y/N). I’ve mixed a sleeping draught in; hopefully, this means that she’ll feel minimal pain.”

Dinah pours the potion into a glass and hands it to Michael, who looks at the dark purple liquid apprehensively. “And you’re sure this will work?”

“You’re really going to question my skills now?” Dinah raises an eyebrow, and Michael shakes his head meekly. “That’s what I thought. Call me if something bad happens, or if nothing happens. I’ll expect payment by Monday.”

“Thank you, Dinah. Truly, you have no idea how much I appreciate this.” She chooses not to respond, instead gathering her belongings and moving past Michael and out the door.

“A woman of few words,” you remark, drifting towards Michael. “You’re gonna make me drink that, aren’t you? Even though I don’t want to? Even though we both have everything we’ve ever wanted now?”

Michael closes his eyes tightly, gathering his nerve before taking your hand and walking with you to your bedroom. He’s never really felt much empathy for the first humans to walk the Earth. Adam and Eve were weak, and easily susceptible to sin. They knew the consequences, yet accepted the apple anyways. Michael thrives off of sinners, and had previously seen their decision to give in as easy. Now, however, tempted with his heart’s desires standing right in front of him, he understands why they were torn in two when deciding whether to give in or resist.

“I’m doing this because I love you, (Y/N). On your own time, and in your own way, maybe one day I’ll be lucky enough to be loved by you in the same way. But not like this. I’m sorry that this had to happen to you, and that I dragged you into my fucked up, mess of a life. You deserve better than what I can give you.”

“You give me what you’re capable of, and that’s enough for me.” Your head is killing you, screaming to fight back and refuse to take the potion that the voodoo queen concocted, but you push through for Michael. Which version of you is pushing through, the you that’s under the influence of Satan or the you that Michael loves, you’re not quite sure.

Michael helps you into your bed, making sure that you’re completely comfortable before perching on the edge of the mattress. “I’ll be right here the entire time, I promise. You won’t go through this alone.”

“I love you, Michael,” you say earnestly, taking the glass that he hands you as he smiles forlornly.

“I know you do. It may be a different form, but I know. Now, drink up.” He watches as you lift the glass to your mouth, your muscles tensing as you fight Satan’s influence to do as Michael says (something that Michael takes a small amount of pride in).

At first, nothing happens. You feel the exact same as you have, albeit a little wary as you wait for something to happen. Michael’s confused as well, but he still has a reassuring smile on his face to keep you from freaking out. You both wait until a sharp pain in your chest makes you gasp loudly, the last thing you feel before going under.

//

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