#am normal about them [lies intensify]

[sysba]

untitled twc drabble

this has no title because the doc where i drafted it is just called "mommy issues" and it says all you need to know about it. told @night-triumphantt edith would say something to rebecca after that book 3 birthday flashback/convo so here it is, unfiltered unedited brainrot happy sunday i love siblings<3 i love hating rebecca<3

Edith’s eyes are fixed on the same spot even after Kiara leaves, a scowl so deep one would guess the door personally insulted her; in the busy aftermath of the mission no one seems to notice her troubled look, or the subtle shake of her shoulders as she folds her arms impossibly tight.

She swallows once. Then again. 

It’s been like this ever since she’s started working with Unit Bravo: she’s been biting her tongue, pushing down words that would’ve darted out of her before and hit their bullseye. Instead she’s been stuck with this acrid taste in her mouth, uncharacteristically docile as she ends unborn conversations and walks away before the hellos.

And that’s what her every instinct is telling her to do now, too. Say nothing, walk away. It’s the smart choice, the self-preserving one. But when it comes to her sister she can’t afford to do damage control.

“You don’t listen to her.” It’s out of her mouth before she can think twice of it, her tone clipped and decisive.

She hasn’t yelled, has not even raised her voice, but she feels like she might have. Everyone stops, sensing the shift in the air. 

Rebecca is frozen on the spot, looking right at Edith like she just threw ice water on her. Like she knew the accusation was directed at her.

Unit Bravo glances between them in confusion, but nobody speaks. Edith doesn’t even spare a quick look their way, all of her focus on Rebecca. She steels herself. 

Too late to go back now.

“You never listen to her.” She doesn’t have to say Kiara’s name to see Rebecca’s unyielding features soften, settling into hurt. “She told you she was hurt, and you made it about yourself.” 

Again. That last word hangs between them, unspoken and unforgiving.

Rebecca frowns. “That was not my intention.”

“It never is, no,” Edith sighs through her nose, shoulders falling a bit. 

Tiring, so tiring… She wants to do this for Kiara, stand up for her because she won’t, but it’s as if every cutting word she aims at Rebecca is shot back at her. 

She hugs herself tighter, the blood on her tongue feeling almost as sickening as her next words. “You remember organising a kids’ birthday party and feeling guilty about having to miss it. What I remember is a seven-year-old kid in a dress too big for her, trying not cry in front of all of her friends after you left. Even saved you a slice of cake that she knew was gonna get thrown away. She was staring up at me with those giant weepy eyes and I couldn’t do shit about it.”

“Edith…” Rebecca’s tone is soft, regretful, and it’s but a water drop on a pyre. “That wasn’t your responsibility.” 

“Then why’d you leave me to pick up your slack, huh?” Edith snaps, then reins herself in when she notices the way Nate is looking at her. “Whatever, that’s not what I–” Her jaw clenches briefly as she looks away. 

That’s not what she wants to talk about, it doesn’t matter. She’s glad Kiara isn’t here right now, lest she think she resents her. Truth is, taking care of her sister was never something Edith did just because there was no one else. It was a choice, one that she hasn’t stopped making (because having to choose, she would always choose Kiara). 

But telling Rebecca where she went wrong as a mother somewhat means reminding her she has two kids, something Edith is not all too keen on doing. It’s the same as throwing a grenade and then stand there, waiting for the shrapnel to tear into you. 

Right now I’d pick the fucking grenade. 

Edith’s lips purse as she meets Rebecca’s gaze again. “Two days later, at school, one of Kiara’s classmates made fun of her. Said ‘not even her mom cared about her birthday.’ I threw my lunch at him during break and got sent to the principal, so they called you. You didn’t show up there either,” she adds the last part with a smirk so venomous Rebecca almost recoils.

It’s true, though. Rebecca was too busy at work that day, so she had sent a sitter instead. And then grounded Edith for “using her hands and not her words”... as if a cold cheeseburger hurled at your head would hurt as bad as a punch.

Rebecca fidgets on the spot, the few wrinkles on her face more evident as her brow furrows in guilt. Edith can sense the apology before it comes.

“I am–”

“Don’t.” She doesn’t need any of this from her mother, doesn’t need her to be sorry. It’s too late for the two of them, anyway. 

But maybe there’s something they can both fix. 

“That’s not why I’m telling you. You get that, right?”

Edith’s gaze pierces through Rebecca, who faces it bravely this time. Eventually she nods, lips pursed and poise stiff. 

“I’ll do better. I want to be better… for her.”

Edith smiles at that. It’s bittersweet, and not all that trustful, but it’s there. 

Maybe there is something the two of them have in common, after all.

#twc fic #twc detective #mywritings #edith blake #kiara kingston #kiara & edith #agent rebecca #am normal about them [lies intensify] #myposts

[tyrant-tales]

Vile Liquid

A/n: Thank you @powerrangers15 for this idea because GENIUS. Sooooo this is made with Xingyun in mind, but it does not have to be read that way if you don't want to! Enjoy!

Wordcount: 1.7k

Lees: Gaming, Chongyun, Xingqui and partially Zhongli

Lers: Zhongli, Gaming, Xingqui, and partially Madame Ping

Prompt: How rude!

♡~~~♡~~~♡

Normally, seeing Chongyun, Xingqui, and Gaming running down the streets of Liyue Harbor was nothing out of the ordinary. Today, however, watching old man Zhongli chase after them was different.

    How did they get in this predicament? Well, somebody (cough cough, Xingqui, cough cough) thought it would be funny to give the old man coffee instead of tea, which didn't end well. Zhongli took one sip and immediately glared daggers at the teen. Gaming and Chongyun didn't actually do anything, but Xingqui dragged them into the whole mess.

    So now, there they were. Sprinting between crowds and taking any shortcuts to lose their tail.

    "Why did you drag us into this?" Chongyun groaned while turning a sharp corner.

    "You were willing to let me suffer all alone?" Xingqui pouted, "Besides, I always drag you into things."

    Gaming just laughed, "C'mon, it's not like you mind it anyways!"

    Chongyun stayed quiet, continuing to run as if his life depended on it. For all he knew, it did. 

     All three teens kept their pace but came to an abrupt stop. They'd run straight into a dead end. Right as they turned to run, Zhongli stepped into view and blocked their exit.

     "It appears you can't run anymore," Zhongli chuckled. Xingqui stepped back into the wall, whereas the other two kept their stance.

     Chongyun looked back at his friends, one looked slightly worried and the older one just smiled. Of course, they all knew the old man wouldn't hurt them, but slight fear still settled in. 

     "So? Who's idea was it?" The eldest asked. 

     Chongyun sighed and stepped forward. Hoping to protect his friend, he lied, "It was mine," His friends' heads shot over to him.

     "But it wasn't? It was mine," Xingqui defended, as he walked up next to the two teens.

     "It wasn't mine, but I did think it was kind of funny, I won't lie," Gaming admitted.

     "What I am hearing is that all three of you had at least some part of it," Zhongli shook his head, "Vile liquid, truly." 

     The youngest teen laughed quietly.

     "I see this is still funny to you."

     "Just a bit, yes."

     "Why don't I give you something better to laugh about, then?" The former Archon tackled Xingqui to the floor. Which didn't take a lot of effort, considering how Zhongli dwarfed the younger in both height and strength. 

     "AGH! Hey, hey! Wait! Ihim sohorry!!!" He pleaded, immediately giggling when the old man scribbled against his sides.

     "I do believe it is a little late for that," He paused to glance at the other two staring in awe, "if you both try to run again, it'll be worse for you."

     After that, they both decided against trying to escape. So they just stared at their friend.

     "I feel kind of bad, but he had it coming."  Gaming said.

     Chongyun pulled out a popsicle and started to eat it, he seemed to be blushing, "I never feel bad. He always dishes it out then drags me into it too," he smiled endearingly, "Hey, now you'll be a part of that tradition too!"

      "This happens often then?"

      "Basically everyday. You really should visit more, it's kind of entertaining." 

      "ZHONGLI pleheahase ihim sohorry!" Xingqui pleaded. Zhongli just shook his head and smirked.

      "Maybe next time do not go after me for your schemes. You know well enough the outcome," he paused to drag his hands up to the youngers ribs, "Come to think of it, it is almost like you try to get this to happen."

       Xingquis squirming intensified and he blushed brighter, "Thahats nohot- ihi dohont-AH!" 

       "Interesting sentence there. Mind explaining what 'ah!' means?" The ex-achron never let him answer; he drilled his fingers into the spaces between the youngests upper ribs. Xingqui screeched.

       "Woah! You're so loud," Gaming teased. He knelt next to the lee's head and patted it. 

       Xingqui shook his head to get Gaming's hand away, to which Gaming gasped dramatically.

       "Oho, you offended Gaming. I'll visit your grave, don't worry." Chongyun laughed, finishing his popsicle.

        The boy in question followed Zhonglis technique, drilling into his underarms ruthlessly.

       "NOHO PLEHEAHASE! STOHOP!!" He screamed, twisting and turning in every direction. Both of his 'attackers' let up, the older one turning towards the other menacingly. 

       "Wait, why are you looking at me like that?" Gaming said, slightly backing up to the best of his ability on his knees, "Nonono! Wait, no!" 

      Despite his pleading, he was tackled to the ground right next to Xingqui. Zhongli then Squeezed his sides, then he relished in the adorable giggles that followed.

      Xingqui sat up and looked over to Chongyun pleadingly. Chongyun walked over to him and sat next to him. Xingqui fell into the other's arms and laughed quietly. 

       "I don't feel bad for you, so don't try to get that out of me," the older chided. Xingqui whined slightly before leaning further into the hug. Chongyuns face went bright red.

       Zhongli spidered across Gaming's ribs, eliciting a shriek, "Well, you seem to be even more ticklish than Xingqui and Chongyun. I did not know that was possible, Gaming."  

      "Shuhush!" He yelled.  

      Zhongli just nodded in disapproval. He switched from spidering to squeezing with one hand and poking with the other, staying on his ribs. Gaming moved from side to side, laughing sweetly. 

      "How endearing," The eldest chuckled, moving his fingers to Gaming's stomach and scribbling. Gaming just shook his head, trying to get rid of the sensations. 

      Xingqui perked his head up and motioned for (a very red) chongyun to let him go, to which he complied. The youngest got behind Zhongli and squeezed his sides.

      He straightened his back and turned quickly, grabbing Xingqui and pulling him next to Gaming on the floor. Chongyun stared in awe of the stupidity of the situation.

      "Now that, child, was not very smart of you," Zhongli feigned a frown while attacking both of the teens under him. Chongyun backed up into the wall and observed, knowing he was probably, no, definitely next. 

      "Yohou ahalreheahady gohot mehe! Why ahagahain?!" Xingqui cried out, wriggling violently. 

      Gaming accidentally whacked Xingqui in the arm trying to protect himself. Zhongli, much against his morals, laughed at that. Xingqui kind of deserved it.

      Zhongli focused on those two for about 5 more minutes before letting them go. Both instinctively curled up on themselves, trying desperately to get rid of the phantom tickles. 

     "Chongyun," Zhongli said, making the younger flinch, "I believe it is your turn." 

     The boy in question stayed seated against the wall, but stared at the old man, blushing profusely.

     "Alright, come here," Zhongli ordered before basically picking up the teen and dragging him to the floor entirely. 

     "Agh! Waitwait! Ihi didn't even doho anything!" Chongyun attempted before shutting up completely when his side was attacked. He laughed immediately, softly batting at Zhonglis hands. 

     "Ah ah ah, hitting isn't very nice," Zhongli deadpanned, grabbing chongyun hands and pulling them up. He looked over to the two recovering teens, "If you help me now, I will go easy on you next time."

     They both seemed to contemplate it, Xingqui standing up first, "I'll help because I want to. It's not for your satisfaction, I just want to see my dear friend smile."

     Chongyun yelped, "You are such a traitor!" Despite Chongyun acting upset, he didn't fight Xingqui when he took his arms, nor did he fight to get free at all. 

     "Mm.. I'm sure you think I'm a traitor." 

     Gaming decided to join them, sitting next to Chongyuns legs. 

     "Noho, not you too!" Chongyun complained. 

     "Yehes me too!" Gaming teased. He experimentally squeezed the youngers thigh. He squeaked and kicked out his legs. Gaming grinned wildly. 

     Zhongli brought his fingers to life on Chongyun's stomach, to which he giggled and tried to curl up. Xingqui smiled down at his friend, wincing back at the loud squeak from the poking at the bluenettes thighs. 

     "You know, you're really cute like this," Xingqui booped his friend's nose, causing him to blush brighter than before. 

     "Ihaha cahant- ACK- Ihim tohoo- plehehease!" 

     "Awe, you are just adorable, haha!" Gaming complimented, skittering his fingers across the lees knees (hah see what I did there?).

     Chongyun dug his heels into the ground, trying to avoid kicking anybody. 

     Xingqui, out of fear of Chongyun hitting his head, moved to sit criss cross. He then moved the olders head to his lap for protection.

     "Are you just too ticklish? Is that what you're trying to say?" Xingqui finally said, "That's just soooooo cute, 'Yun!"

     "Shuhut uhup!"

     "What? I'm complimenting you!" He gasped in mock offense, "Is it too flustering for you? Awe, Chongyun." 

     The exorcist yelped when Zhongli targeted his upper ribs, beginning to cackle loudly. 

     "What is going on here?" A familiar voice called out. 

     Zhongli turned his head, "Ah, Madame Ping, hello."

     "Oh Zhongli, are you bullying these young children? How very rude!" She made her way to the old man, who had since gotten off of Chongyun. The teen was taking heavy breaths.

      "Oh no, I assure you they started this ordeal."

      "How can I be sure? Why don't I just teach you why you don't bother kids right now?" She threatened. Chongyun had migrated to hugging Xingqui, who lazily traced shapes on his back, making him giggle. 

      "I do not believe that would be necessary, Madame Ping," Zhongli defended. He seemed slightly nervous.

      "Oh but look at that boy-"

      "He does not mind it, truly," Zhongli interrupted.

      "And now you interrupt me? Oh I'll teach you a lesson, Zhongli!" She pounced at him. 

      Zhongli jumped before being taken to the floor. Xingqui and Gaming shared looks, seemingly thinking how did she take him down? 

      "I- they really did cause this whole thing, please, I am not lying!"

      Gaming had a mischievous look in his eye, "We did nothing! He just chased us here and attacked us so rudely!"

      Zhongli rolled his eyes. He quickly shut his eyes when his stomach was poked by Madame Ping.

     "Please not in front of them…" He pleaded.

     "Oh fine. Come with me, you bully," she teased, winking at the teens.

     Safe to say Madame Ping would be a new go to for ways to bother the old man.

#tickle content #genshin impact #xingyun #lee!xingqui #lee!chongyun #lee!gaming #lee!zhongli #ler!Zhongli #ler!xingqui #ler!gaming #like no one cares #but yknow

[quitealotofsodapop]

I am in a funny mood, so you get this:

A multiverse meeting – which is just hanging out, enjoying modern conveniences and shenanigans (more so from them actual adults then the kids, aside from the Dorito God Sacrifice Incident) – going about normally. There’s probably a documentary about something that makes the youngers go ‘oh!’ in turns.

Then the door is busted open and as everyone is grabbing a weapon – they see Nuwa, the Goddess of Creation herself, panting wildly, hair everywhere, holding a bundle that she full on yeets at LMK!Mac – he just caught it – and exclaims, “None of you saw me here, alright!” Then she zips away fast enough that the dust only kicked up a minute later.

“What the fu-”

“Language!”

“Oh, sorry!” Sarcasm drips, “But do YOU have any idea what is going on?!”

Then her husband Fuxi stumbles through the door, “Did any of you see Nuwa?!”

The confusion only intensifies. What was going on?

“Not recently.” LMK!SWK lies, you know, like a liar.

Fuxi just accepts it and runs out. They can hear him shouting for Nuwa, saying things like “I won’t be mad, I promise!” and “Just tell me what you and Hou Tu did!”

“What is this about?” Reborn!SWK feels very confused, the confusion is paramount, enough of it was in the air to choke an elephant.

They turned to look at the bundle – vary it was something dangerous. LMK!Mac slowly moves to open the bundle up and see its contents. You don’t need six ears to hear the heartbeats.

LMK!Mac blinks when he sees it, “Oh fuck.”

“Look now who’s swearing.”

LMK!SWK leans in and – “Fuck!”

“What is it?!” Smash!SWK nearly shrieks.

“Um…” LMK!Mac turns to reveal the bundle – to be a small demon monkey with a face marking, “It’s a baby?”

“What.”

So, yeah, that’s HOW Sun Luzhen happens – because bored gods, wine and curiosity leads to ‘fucking around and finding out’. Literally.

Now, Nuwa and Hou Tu just need to pay for child support X’D

Oh my chinese mythos gods

that is the perfect explanation for how Sun Luzhen happens XD

Nuwa and Hou Tu had a repeat one-night stand and made another stone monkey. Bonus if it was similar events that led to SWK's own creation in some theories XD

For all we know, Fuxi is the third parent in the genetic mess that is Mystic Monkeys.

Poor LMK Shadowpeach now got another baby to deal with. At least little Luzhen seems to adore his adoptive dads, and especially his big bro MK. The rest of the Wukongverse are horrified.

#wukongverse #sun luzhen #shadowpeach being parents #shadowpeach #nuwa #fuxi #hou tu #lmk fan children

[fat-hedonistic-hogs]

How about another girl joining the fatrooms? Like Bulma or Towa?

"Alright Bulma.. You've got this! If this invention works you'll revolutionize energy production for everyone on earth! 1...2...3!" Bulma yelled closing her eyes as she flipped the on switch of her latest invention. It was a miraculous new creation designed from remnants of various evil scientist's works. Given the sheer number of them the z fighters had faces she decided to combine their surprisingly advanced technology in order to create a device that theoretically could produce infinite energy!

A blinding flash of light enveloped the laboratory and Bulma felt her skin tingle as she was bathed in cosmic rays. This wasn't part of the plan! She panicked yanking the switch down causing it to break off. The entire world shook for just a moment as space bent and reality cracked... and just like that she was gone leaving nothing but a scorch mark on the floor.

"Son of a... Now we're gonna have to waste a wish bringing me back to li- Wait isn't other world... where the hfil am I?" She asked rubbing her eyes which were still a bit dazed after the flash. "Well infinite energy is off the table but teleportation isn't anything to sneeze at! Now how the heck do I get out of here?" Bulma asked herself her own voice echoing as she got a good look at her surroundings. She was in some sort of abandoned mall, or atleast that's what she thought it was. The place was huge and rather run down but the power was still on even if the lights above her head flickered every few seconds. "Guess I better make my way to an exit.

She sighed hoping she didn't go too far from west city, she didn't have a phone on her but she'd be able to contact Vegeta once she got somewhere with one. "Man just how big is this place?" She groaned as she walked passed empty stores devoid of any kind of life. Clothes, creepy children's toys and electronics were scattered on the floor making the entire scene seem unnerving. "Its all in my head... just nerves from the shock that's all, it's just a creepy abandoned mall nothing more." Bulma said picking up the pace passing infront of clothing store full of faceless mannequins.

The clocks were no help trying to pin point the time. The ones not broken or smashed on the floor were left spinning wildly round and around. She had no sense of time either since the place seemed to have no windows just more and more stores and escalators going up to higher floors surely shed be at the exit soon enough. The place wasn't endless...

"Ugh I feel like I've been walking for HOURS! My stomachs starting to kill me..." Bulma groaned her gut growling with hunger. Thankfully salvation was close at hand. There was a food court and not just any food court one that had mysterious tables all stocked with freshly made burgers still warm and steaming as they sat on napkins and plastic plates. "What the? Who the heck leaves food out in an abandoned mall? And it looks like these were just made..." Bulma said a bit confused as she carefully picked up a burger and examined it. It looked normal enough and smelt real and not rotten. Her hunger only seemed to intensify as the greasy smell of the sandwiches filled her nostrils. "Kami forgive me for being so stupid but I feel like I'll eat my own leg if I don't grab a bite soon." She groaned shoveling the burger into her mouth smearing her face with ketchup and grease as she tore into it like a hungry animal. The petite scientist wasn't a heavy eater but she managed to clean the plate in no time flat finishing with a loud "BWOOOOOOOOORP!" That rattled some bear by glass. "Man that was delicious! Just what I needed now back to looking for a way out of this creepy place." Bulma said before turning her attention to a large jumbo sized soda and basket of chili fries. ".... okay maybe a snack to go." She said blushing as she swiped the basket and drink before going back on her path. Each step she took was met with a gulp of her drink or a handful of messy fries being shoveled into her mouth. She didn't bother to grab napkins so she simply wiped and cleaned her mouth with her arm for now slowly adding more and more stains to her futuristic looking jumpsuit. The routine of eating and walking helped get her mind off the creepy atmosphere of the seemingly colossal sized mega mall with Bulma oblivious to her own softening features. Food was all she had and she didn't even question why her fries never seemed to end or how each sip of her drink always gave her a sweet sugar mouthful of soda despite being chugged at for over an hour straight.

"Oh another food court!" She said perking up as spotted a rundown looking stand in the shape of a burger. Waddling over Bulma ignored the groaning of the stool beneath her rear of the sound of threads tearing as she began to out grow her jumpsuit. She grabbed armfuls of hotdogs, pizza, burgers and more piling them up on a singular table and helping herself. "It's been a few hours I think... Someone will... BLRRROOOOORT! Huff... come for me soon. Just gotta hunker down and wait for help. Beats walking all day." She groaned cheeks wobbling as she suckled down a mustard covered hotdog and let lose a few rancid bursts of gas. Her plan had changed from finding a way out to waiting for rescue. She didn't need to worry about escape! She had everything she needed right infront of her.

Fat sausage fingers shoveled food towards a pair of ketchup stained lips while a exposed pair of breasts caught falling food and leftovers like a massive pig trough. A table stacked high with food sat in the center of the food court with Bulma at its base stuffing and gorging herself more and more. Legs became tree trunk sized and her ass had long sense swallowed the stool she once sat on. Manners and shame forgotten as she shoved her head face first into a plate of nachos lapping up cheese and crunchy chips with her tongue.

Her once beautiful complexion ruined by grease and food clogging her pores. Her hair greasy and long rolling down her back after ages of being uncut or washed. Even her nose changed flattening and becoming a snout from the countless hours of being pressed against plates and dishes. She was like a gargantuan hog only capable of seeing the mountain of food infront of her and not caring about anything else. She ate and ate till she couldn't even move her bingo wing covered arms any more. She was a glutton a bottomless garbage disposal for junk food and slop.

The food never stopping and her stomach never filling, the once brilliant scientist reduced to a eating machine driven only by the never ending need to stuff herself... help wouldn't come but even if it did... would she care?

#muse: bulma #anon ask #slob #fatrooms

[cancankiki]

Lonely No More (2/?)

Felix and Bella Love Story

Warnings: none. Didyme is alive in this story, see notes from CH1

As she sleeps I keep her hand in mine, despite how cold I must feel to her, she has not let go once. It was comforting for both of us. I’ve spent this time admiring her: her long brown hair, her delicate facial features, the sounds she makes while sleeping all add to her beauty. I can only imagine how much her beauty will intensify after she is like me.

Dimitri approaches and asks if he could come in. “Yes.” He looks down at her, a smile on his face. His concern written in his face and it brings me a sense of peace to know my brother cares for my mate. “She cried herself to sleep.”

“Perhaps that’s a good thing.” He sighs, “There was a heated discussion about who would be her sire. They want to speak with you in the throne room. I can watch over her in here.”

Anyone else I would have refused, but I trusted Dimitri. Slowly withdrawing my hand from hers and standing up. That seems to break her sleep as much as I felt the loss. Her hand reaches out to feel nothing. Quickly opening her eyes she looks for me and sees me standing. Her reaction is to sit up quickly, the spotting Dimitri she pulls her knees to her chest, holding them tight.

My response was immediate, sitting on the bed, I held her hands, that seems to calm her worried features. “I am needed in the throne room for a few minutes. Dimitri will stay here with you, he is my brother and will keep you safe. I will be right back.” She nods and stares at us both.

Looking at them, before heading quickly to the throne room. The queens were there with the kings. Queen Didyme rushed over to me, “I had to put up quite a fight with Caius, but I will be Bella’s sire. He is quite salty about this, but she needs a mother more than she needs discipline.”

I could hear Master Caius scoff in the background.

“I plan on changing her in the morning. Normally we give some time. Since the Cullens lied to her about changing her, the last thing we want to do is have her think we are repeating what they did. We are all in agreement that if she is able to block Aro and Alec’s gifts as a human, imagine how powerful her gift will be when she is one of us.”

I nod thinking the same thing myself. I would get to train her and teach her all I know. What better way to know that she is protected and out of harms way.

“Felix, go back to your room and I will be there shortly to share this information. I have to stop by the secretary and pick up a few things. Heidi put together a list of comforting and personal items she may need for the rest of the day and tonight. We’ll order her whatever she wants if she gets hungry.” Queen Didyme rushed off, her personal guards following her, me following them but I detour back to my quarters.

As I get closer, I hear sweet laughter coming down the hallway. It has to be Bella, then there is Dimitri’s laugh, that’s my confirmation. Probably telling her embarrassing stories about me in order to make her laugh. I want to listen and hear more of her laughter, but I need to see her again, and perhaps if she lets me, hold her in my arms.

“If you think that’s funny, wait till you hear what embarrassing things Dimitri did.” She looks at me, was that a small smile? Was she happy to see me?

Dimitri stands up, then with a flamboyant bow for Bella, “I have plenty more stories for next time.” When he walks next to me, he whispered for my special hearing only. “She doesn’t think she’s worthy of you.” Then he was off, back to the throne room.

Sitting back on the bed I place my hand over hers, which are still wrapped around her knees. “Queen Didyme will be here soon, she will be your sire. She will change you in the morning.”

“You don’t want to change me?” Her eyes wide and a frown forming on her face.

I grab both her hands with mine. “I would love to change you, but I must follow orders of the kings and queens. Queen Didyme feels that you need a mother figure more than ever. The sire bond is extremely strong and they call the ones they created their children. She will be here soon to explain.”

As if on cue, she walks in with an overflowing tray. “Oh dear Bella.” She places the tray on the table and sits on the bed, immediately pulling Bella into a hug. It took a moment, but Bella hugs her back, then sobs into the queen’s chest. Once Bella calms down, the queen presents the chocolates, grapes, cheese, crackers, water, and an electric kettle for tea. “Heidi will be bringing clothes for you to choose for your transition. Then you can order whatever wardrobe you want.”

Master Marcus appeared at the doorway, I was not expecting him. He clears his throat gently, “We are very excited about your possible powers. Once you are turned, Felix will train you, he trains, all newborns and guards, so you are in great hands. You have an excellent warrior and protector as a mate. While I will not be your sire, as Didyme’s spouse, I will consider you my child as well. We are a family here. Yes we have very strict rules and orders that must be obeyed, but we take our bonds quite seriously.”

Bella just listened face unreadable until tears dropped from her eyes. “Thank you.” Whispered from her lips.

Didyme placed a final kiss on Bella’s forehead, walked toward Marcus, who pulled her to his side, and they disappeared with their guards.

When Bella and I were alone, I set up the tea and snacks she wants on the table. I pull out the chair for her to sit and push it in when she is seated.

She ate slowly, occasionally glancing at me. “I’m an open book Bella. Ask me anything.”

It was difficult to not smile at her shocked expression. “Okay. How old were when you were changed? How old are you now? Where did you live? What power do you have? Do you remember anything about your human life? Are you unhappy about being mated to me?”

#Felix and Bella #Bella Volturi #Bella Belongs in the Volturi #Fuck the Cullens #Didyme Is Alive #Felix and Bella Love Story #Volturi are the Good Ones

[hubbie22]

Here is an ask well half an ask from the lovely @meddowscrl please don’t hate me 🥺 I just can’t do happy endings. I tried, I just couldn’t. I can only do angst. I like to suffer ~nervous laughter intensified~ Also, please excuse the writing, I have a respiratory infection and am heavily medicated.

You were happy, weren’t you?

“I want a divorce.”

You stare at him, you had only asked if he wanted to change the drapes. And the answer, turned your world upside down. He had been your boyfriend since 1968, your husband since 1972 and yet with one sentence he was now nothing.

“The drapes, I just wanted to change the drapes.” You mutter out like a hapless child.

“We haven’t been good for months.” He looks at you, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses.

“We haven’t?” Since when haven’t you two been good? Since when haven’t you two shared one brain cell? That was news to you.

Roger stands firms, flicking his long hair back. “No, Y/N.” He sighs, “We haven’t been us for months.”

“Is there someone else?” You look at him, searching for something. “You promised me. You promised me.” The words come out like a chant or mantra, what you held onto when he was on the road. A promise from another lifetime ago.

He sighs, as if he wants to tell you the truth. But he looks at you, and he sees the brokenness he caused. And he can’t bare to make it worse. So, he lies.

“No.”

You walk past him, and he grabs your hand and you think for a moment he will tell you he change his mind. But he hasn’t, and you tear yourself away from him trudging up the staircase.

“Y/N, this has been a long time coming. I’m not happy…. I’m not happy with you anymore.”

“A long time coming for who?” You can’t even look at him while you are packing your things. Most of which, he bought you. So, you only bring what you can into this relationship with yourself. “For you? Because I was happy.” There are tears streaming down your face, like a waterfall, “And I thought we were happy, it’s news to me that we aren’t. And that’s we haven’t been for sometime. Or maybe that you haven’t been.”

You sit across from him in a London high-rise, a wood table between you two and armed with a divorce lawyer. It happened fast, or maybe you were out of it the last few months.

You looked over at Roger, his hair was shorter the last time you saw him.

He stopped by your new apartment to drop off things you left, you could remember his shocked face when you open the door. You heard rustling outside and curiously you opened the door to see Roger crouched down, putting a box by your door. Blue eyes meet yours, and it was like time hadn’t passed. And maybe that’s why you treated it that way, maybe that’s why you went with the old routine. And you wonder if it was the gleam in his eyes, that let you believe that there was something to hold onto; that hope remained.

“Just some bits and bobs of yours.” Roger said, fumbling his keys in his hand.

“Thanks, Rog.” You can’t move from the door frame, the gaze y’all shared unbroken. Years of memories dancing between tha gaze. The squeal of the kettle you put on earlier makes the both of you jump.

“Cuppa? I still have your favorite biscuits.” You couldn’t stop yourself from buying them. It was just normal. And sometimes normal in this new word you didn’t know, was what you needed to sleep at night.

“Really?!” His blue eyes light up, and you motion for him to come in. Staying for tea was a dangerous thing, an old and easy routine. It was weird being so comfortable with someone, who was leaving you behind. Funny how the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Maybe it was because of the easiness of it all, that you left yourself fall back into the comfort of it all. As of you two were old friends, not two lovers frayed at the seams. Because of that easiness, you let yourself entertain a thought that maybe you could save your marriage. Put back the broken pieces into something recognizable, but it wasn’t enough. The yearning, the reminiscing of old times through the stuff he brought to you somehow turned into fumbled kisses and clothes thrown around haphazardly. It was something you thought would change the course of where your life was going. Instead of reconciling, it turned into Roger sneaking out when he thought you were asleep. It turned into your lawyer, letting you know Roger wanted you to have more than you asked for. It turned into more resentment and hurt from you, how he could use you and then leave you. How could he so easily but all those years together aside? It turned into something that shouldn’t have happened. And it turned into something that would stay with you forever. A funny word forever, because forever never is forever.

“Sign this, and your divorced will be finalized. All assets obtained during the marriage have been split, due to Mr. Taylor’s wishes.” Your lawyer says looking at you, sliding the papers across, while Roger’s lawyer speaks, “You will be comfortable, and well off Y/N. My client has been more than generous. In fact, I’ve never seen a settlement this amicable from the side of the main breadwinner .”

You sign the papers without any words, you don’t even look at Roger. You realize as you sign on the dotted line, this will be the last time you will use the surname you used for years. Funny how something you thought would never change, would be stagnant in your life just fades away. You then pass the papers across the table back to Roger’s lawyer, you watch as the lawyer slides the papers over to Roger for his signature.

And when Roger takes the paper, you stop breathing you wonder if his mind will change at the eleventh hour. But, he signs it without any hesitation. It’s a fluent and flawless movement, very unlike Roger- really. Part of you breaks at that, it was like he didn’t care he was closing the door on years of his life. Closing the door on you.

You stand up, smoothing out your wide legged pant suit. After the divorce, you had dipped your toes back into the world of working for a living. Putting that masters degree in business to use, and now it was time to separate yourself from the last of the rock n roll lifestyle you loved. And you turn to walk away, high heels on the marble floor when someone grabs your wrist turning you around.

“Take care of yourself, Y/N.” Roger looks at you with concern in his blue eyes. And you wonder if it’s for the friend he was losing, and not the marriage he let go of so easily.

You look at him, “I will. Don’t forget to wear your glasses, we both know you are blind. Don’t forget to call your mum once in while, she misses you. And try not to get so angry at the boys, they mean well.”

“Even after everything I’ve done, you don’t hate me.” You spot something in his eyes, you can’t put a name too. An emotion that seems out of place, it was almost looked like guilt and forlorn.

“I told you a long time ago, I could never hate you. No matter how much, I may want too. I just can’t.”

“You are too good, Y/N. I’ve forgot to remind myself of that. Maybe that’s why…” he drifts off, “Even those daft band mates of mine agreed. Never let me forget it. But, Im sure they are out to drive me mad!” He says with a small smirk.

“With the drum sets you destroy, I doubt the plan to make you mad.” You make a small sound, something between a strangled “hmph” and snort in retort.

“Same old, Y/N.”

“By the way, I have something to-”

“Roggiee!” A voice like a bell cuts through the hushed words you tell him.

You both turn to see a girl, or really a woman bounding toward y’all. And you look toward Roger, and you see the look in his eyes. A look that used to be reserved for you. And it clicked, the guilty look etched in his eyes, not even moments ago. The guilty look he wore that night. The whole reason your world was being upended and ruined. It was for her.

The bitterness filled you up, the way he could so easily toss you aside. The look you threw at Roger was one of pure resentment and unbridled rage.

“You lied.” Your hushed words, that come out through clinched teeth drip with a malice.

He looks at you with wide eyes, as if he was trying to shelter you from the truth. And you see that damned look again. “Y/N, please. I just couldn’t tell you.”

But before you can answer, she comes up with a smile on her pink lips and a twinkle in her dark brown eyes. “You must be, Roggie’s lawyer! I’m Gwen.” She smiles at you. And her smile is sickly sweet, and almost innocent.

It makes you want to scream, to throw something, to do something other than what you are doing.

“I’m Y/N, actually.” You extend your hand to her. Her eyes go wide, and she looks at Roger, who goes to her side immediately.

“Y/N, please listen.” He hold onto her side, and the whiteness of his knuckles against the material of her dark dress don’t go unnoticed by you. “I didn’t mean to fall in love with her.”

Gwen chimes in, “We honestly tried to stay away from each other, we just couldn’t. We were drawn to each other.”

If you weren’t so bitter, hurt, and angry perhaps the romantic side of you would find that notion tragic. You had read about it in books, and always rooted for the star-crossed lovers. But, now you were the collateral damage, you were the woman scorned.

“When we decided that what we had was something, I couldn’t tell you. I couldn’t tell you that I was in love with someone else, when you were there from the start. I just didn’t want you to find out after I got back from tour-”

“He couldn’t see you broken like that.” Gwen finishes for him.

You can’t even begin to comprehend the information given, you were gobsmacked. You were completely barred raw, for everyone is this godforsaken lobby to see. And because of that, you selfishly did not want to see how genuinely happy he looked with someone else. Someone who wasn’t you. So, you used the words you knew would cut him to the bone. “So, you thought it was better to make me believe it was my fault you weren’t happy. That I was ignorantly living in one sided marital bliss, while you were falling in love with someone else? While you were planning to leave, I was planning for a life with you?” Your eyes are blazing, your face hot with rage, “You thought it was better to make me believe I was the problem? I can’t believe you! After everything I did for you? After putting my life on hold for you?! This is how you repay me? I deserved the truth, but you, the both of you took that from me.”

“I just-” He sighs, “I just wanted to be happy again, and when I’m with Gwen I’m happy. And I was going to tell you, I was going to tell you that day with the drapes. But, you then you uttered that damn promise. And what was I supposed to do? How could I break my best friend? I’ve always been the asshole to everyone, but you.”

“I love you.”

You look at Roger, his long blonde hair disheveled with bright blue eyes. “I love you too, you are my friend. My very best friend.” You bump your shoulder against his, and let out a giggle.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

You stare at him wide eyed, “Oh.”

“I have been for sometime.”

“Rog, I love you too. But, that doesn’t mean I want to date you. I know how you are, you will grow bored of me and find someone else. And love is sweet, but it’s not your nature. I don’t think I have it in me to me hate you, or to lose you. Please don’t make me lose my best friend.”

“You don’t get it, Y/N.” He looks at you like you hung the moon, and you like it. You crave that look. “I don’t want anyone else, it’s you. And I think it’s always been, and always will be you.”

“You promise? You promise it’s only me forever?” You bite your lip and stick out your pinky finger, like you had done so many times growing up.

“I cross my heart and hope to die.” He says as he raises your intertwined pinkies up to kiss it.

“And in that moment, I was back in Truro laughing with a curly haired little girl, and then I was in uni with that same girl, who was my best friend, I saw that girl. And, I couldn’t do that to her.”

You look at him, your face cold as stone. “I’m still that girl, I haven’t changed. You have. And that’s okay, it’s okay the change that’s life.”

That is how it ends, with a look of heartbreak on your face as the elevator doors close on the sight before you. And when the doors open, and you are greeted by the sight of the lobby. You realize, you didn’t even tell him what you wanted too.

Would it change anything?

#roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #queen imagines #roger taylor

[korasonata]

So, I know it’s not model stream day but I had a bunch of leftover quotes that I cut from the original Joe and Cleo model stream posts due to length. Was originally planning to compile them all together and make a larger master post when they finished the castle, but the list was getting a bit long so decided to do it in parts instead 😅 So here we have all of the other moments I greatly enjoyed that got cut from the first few posts.

—

STREAM 1

—

Cleo: See I can cut straight! But if anyone asks you from the police, I can’t. You didn’t see anything.

—

Cleo: I’m feeling very put out by my chat at this point, because it’s just sort of like “are you sure you didn’t screw up?” No I’m sure I didn’t screw up, leave me alone! Oh…..

SILENCE…

Cleo: …I might have screw-…

SILENCE

—

Cleo: I love it when Joe goes silent, cause you know he’s having a meltdown. And that’s quite funny.

—

Cleo (in response to Joe explaining the use of “Moshi Moshi”): It’s Joe. I don’t know if Joe lies or tells the truth on any given day. But I’m assuming this is correct.

Joe: People are saying “but what if Joe’s a fox?” Well that’s why I said Moshi Moshi! See? And I didn’t go away.

Cleo: I- I’m a fox…I can’t say it….It’s fine…

Joe: Yeah, that’s ok.

—

STREAM 2

—

Cleo: is that Cleo’s hands? No. They’re an imaginary persons hands.

Joe: it depends if you’re watching my stream or Cleo’s.

Cleo: I mean that helps.

Joe: if you’re watching my stream, it’s my hands.

Cleo: if you’re watching Joes stream it’s probably Joes hands. If you’re watching my stream, it’s probably an alien entity.

—

Joe: we actually got a super posh nail salon near me now, and so I was kind of thinking like “oh I should- I should go there and get the green- the chroma green nails before I do this.”

Cleo: oh god Joe.

—

Cleo: This here is a map of what the things should be. What the heck is part 10? I’ve got to find par-

SILENCE

Cleo: ok well I found where part 10 is.

—

Joe: Cleo’s going to have plenty of time to catch up, don’t worry.

Cleo: Catch up from the leading position that I already had.

Joe: Yeah. Well, but to make up for any lost time that you’re currently antago- or not antagonizing. Agonizing over. I’ll know when your antagonizing.

Cleo: Oh yea-you will know when I’m antagonizing.

—

Joe (reading chat) : “How do you determine the limits of Cleo’s patience?” Uh, “are they redefined every time you test them?” Ummm…

Cleo: *laughing* interesting question Joe. I’d like to hear your answer to this.

—

Cleo (about Joes model): it’s very small. We’re not comparing size though.

—

Cleo (reading chat): both Bdubs and Joe have small castles *laughing* We’re not gonna talk about Bdubs’ small castle.

—

Joe: My beard keeps brushing the ringlight which the camera is attached to, so I’m worried it’s vibrating the camera when my beard hits it. And it’s tickling my chin. Which is very very strange.

Cleo: *snort laughing*

Joe: *laughing* Cause normally no one tickles my chin during a stream.

Cleo: *still laughing* It’s not a common thing.

Joe: No, we don’t have like a reward tear for that with channel redemption.

—

Joe (talking about cutting his beard): maybe I should just go trim this one part so I’m not bumping the camera.

Cleo: I- I… I mean, if you wanted to do that on stream I would not- (trails off)

Joe: Oh, you- oh! I guess I can get a mirror out, hold on. I’ve got a mirror, so let me see.

—

Cleo: you know what Joe? I don’t know.

Joe: That’s ok Cleo. I don’t know either. That’s what makes us a good team. Mutual ignorance!

Cleo: CLUELESS!! CLUELESSNESS!!

—

Cleo (about Xisuma and Pearl): We don’t bully each other. Cause I’m always right. That’s how it works.

Joe: Mhm.

Cleo: …the way you said “mhm” Joe made it sound like you don’t think I’m always right.

—

Cleo: To be fair, I do quite like the model making.

Joe: Yeah, other than the fact that it’s like really stressful, it’s really relaxing!

—

Joe (doing a face camera expansion): “EXPAND JOE!” Do do do do!

Cleo (singing the Adams Family): Do do do do!

Both (in harmony): Do do do do!

Cleo: Do do do do! Do do do do!

Joe: *click click*

—

Joe (explaining about his Gomez Adams suit): I went to a tailor in another city.

Cleo: And you just went “Give me the suit that Gomez Adams wears!”

Joe: No! I looked at all the suits and then selected the one that Gomez Adams wears!

—

Cleo: Ghostbusters! *laughing* Don’t bust the ghosts, they’re just trying to make a living guys. Do you know how hard ectoplasm is to get?

—

Joe: Well, but like, for example, if you think about how much CO2 we waste on air conditioning every year, and the fact that people feel a chill when they like, walk through a ghost. You could just have like a- a big ghost that like walks around with you inside of it. As like an air conditioning suit.

Cleo: I don’t- I don’t want any ghost inside of me? Just…saying?

Joe: I mean I guess technically you’d be inside of it, but like…

Cleo: I’m not sure if that makes it worse or better.

—

Cleo (reading chat): “Is the crying to make the paper more supple?” No. The crying is to make us more willing to accept our life choices. That have lead us here.

—

Cleo (in distress): NO! Why would you do that?! WHY?! Why?! Why? Why. Why?!!!

Joe: What happened? Your cat do something?

Cleo: No no no. This is the roof. The roof has decided to not. And now I am deciding to not with the roof!

—

Cleo: Sorry, I’m just trying to keep things together.

Joe: Keep it together, Cleo! Keep it together!

Cleo: I mean, some one of us- one of us has got to.

Joe (desperate): One of us has got to keep it together Cleo, and it’s you! There’s no way the one keeping it together is me!

Cleo: *uncontrollable laughing*

Joe: Sobbing intensifies!

Cleo: Everything hurts and nothing is ok!

Joe (deeply distressed): It’s fine!

—

Joe: At my previous jobs, I would tell them that I don’t want this job. I don’t want this career. I’m good at this technical stuff that you need, and can do it at a price that you can afford. But my priority is being able to drop off my kid at daycare and pick her up at daycare. Everyday. I- My- my then wife will never be available to take care of that child because she’s a PHD student. If the kid is sick, I am taking the day off to take care of her. If you don’t like it? You can find somebody else.

#hermitcraft #hermitblr #zombiecleo #zombie cleo #joehills #joe hills

[mrsalwayswrite]

Magic and Firelight (Ivar x reader)

Oh God. you know how I said I never write smut....apparently I lied. I blame this entire thing on @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom​ and @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie​ for encouraging this. All. Their. Faults. 

This one-shot was inspired by the moodboard created by the ever-lovely @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom​ for a challenge. In the challenge she had to use Ivar, MagicAU and Licking....so I made sure to incorporate those themes into this written one-shot.  

Also this does not fit anywhere in the Vikings timeline because I want everyone alive and marginally happy, ok? So everyone lives in Kattegat but think season 5a Ivar. 

Warnings: SMUT, unexpected feels, like one swear word. 

Words: 4200

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius​ @evelynshelby​ @pomegranates-and-blood​ 

reminder: not my moodboard. this entire, glorious thing belongs to @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom​ who was kind enough to let me use it.

  Revelry filled the air, coating everything in the Great Hall like a fresh snowfall. The feast was well underway. The smell of roasted meat and ale rose steadily into the air, along with the laughter and cheers of those still in attendance. A contest of strength just finished, the loser ending up with blood dripping from his nose, tainting his teeth, as he laughed uproariously. 

 A joyous shout shot through the hall. The signal of the next form of entertainment. Fists pounded on the tables in delight, a few exclamations arising amongst the sound. All noise ceased when a slow drumbeat began, like the echo of a steady heart. It sunk into the skin, traveling to the chest until one's heartbeat matched in echo. 

 Ivar shifted in his seat near the base of the thrones. They both sat empty behind him, his mother having retired long ago, and Ragnar at a nearby table with Floki and a few others, laughing with a flushed face and ale horn in hand. Glancing around his table, he could see the wild excitement in his brothers' eyes…. for they all knew what came next. 

 As the drumbeat started to increase, the first of the swirling dancers emerged. Their bodies covered in thin fabric that teased as much as it covered, leaving one longing for a glimpse only to be denied as she continued her provocative movements. The six beautiful women moved through the tables like swans gliding through water, each step, each sway of their hips graceful and in tune with the beat.

 "Who are they?" Ivar asked gruffly. These women were not the normal entertainment at a feast. Nor did he did not recognize any of them. 

 "They came with a trader from the Mediterranean." Ubbe answered, never removing his eyes from the dancers. "He petitioned with father yesterday to allow them the chance to entertain us in the way of their people…. or something along those lines."

 "Remind me to ask that trader where they are specifically from, because I know where I am going to explore next." Hvitserk stated with a smirk. 

 Ubbe bumped shoulders with Hvitserk, an unspoken agreement in the action. 

 Ivar rolled his eyes at their antics and turned his gaze back to the dancers…. Only to freeze when one locked eyes with him. 

 She stood across the fire, the flames appeared to lick and dance upon her skin. Every curve, each dip of her luxurious body highlighted in the flickering light. Her hair hung long, swaying with each movement, its own form of enticement. It was those eyes though, that held him spellbound to her. Large, luminous orbs that seemed to peer into his soul, that stole the very breath from his lungs. All he could do was stare as she danced. Each movement was pure elegance and seduction. The whole time those mesmerizing eyes kept him spellbound, oblivious to all but her. With her eyes locked on him, it felt she danced only for him. Each twirl of her body, each shake of her barely clad hips, her hands tracing patterns in the air, it all felt like a dance to entrance him. To maintain his attention. To rile up his blood and desire for her. To make him yearn for her with his whole body and soul. 

 When she finally released him from her gaze to spin away, he gasped in a lungful of air. Not realizing until now how he had forgotten to breathe while watching her, so enthralled by her, even air became unnecessary. 

 "You alright, Ivar?"

 The raven-haired Ragnarsson looked at Hvitserk, noticing the smile that teased the corners of his mouth. 

 "This is the closest he's seen a naked woman besides Margrethe and we all know how that went." Sigurd snarked, bringing his cup of ale to his lips. 

 "Shut up before I rip your tongue out and feed it to the flames." He snarled at his curly-haired brother. Fury stirred in the hollow of his chest like a wild animal threatening to tear apart its cage. 

 Ubbe smacked the table. "Enough. Both of you."

 The table quieted as their focus returned to the dancers. Eyes searching the hall, a slow-growing panic simmered in Ivar's gut as he could not see her. The other five dancers spun and twirled about, their bodies an example of art in motion. 

 Without warning, the gentle touch of a hand on his shoulder caused his head to whip to the side, ready to demand blood from the one with the audacity to touch him…. Only to be met with those eyes that made him flustered and hot all over. 

 With her touches tender, she trailed her hand from his shoulder up his neck to cup the side of his face. Even if the need arose, he would be unable to remove himself from her sensual touch and her penetrating gaze, bewitched by her to remain still. Never before had he felt so exposed to someone. Even the times when he broke bones and had to be carried like a child, humiliation ripping into his skin. Now he felt undone as she beheld him, consumed by her with just a look. If the other dancers were art, then she, this divine beauty beside him, was a masterpiece, crafted by the gods themselves.

 Waves of jealousy rolled off his brothers, crashing against him like stormy waves on a beach but for once, he did not care. His eyes stayed glued to her, hypnotized by her very presence. 

 Suddenly he found himself facing her, unable to remember when he turned away from the table. She stood between his brace-clad legs, gazing down at him. Her fingers traced over his cheek, only to land at his mouth. Her thumb rubbed his bottom lip, encouraging his lips to part. Unable to resist her, he obliged, lips parting slightly. She made no further move, either to draw away or closer. His heart beat rapidly with excitement and mischief. A streak of wicked intent made his lips curl slightly, giving him away. His leather-bound hands reached out for her thighs; the soft skin almost foreign beneath his calloused-hardened fingers. In the same instant, he nipped at her thumb, still lingering on his bottom lip. Then he waited for her reaction with an impish smirk.  

 She chuckled, a sultry, honeyed sound that flowed straight to his useless cock and made him shiver in delight. 

 Never removing her eyes from his, she reached down to grab one of his hands on her exposed thighs. Then torturously slow, she guided it up the contours of her body, his hand caressing her hip, up her stomach and between her full breasts until his hand was at her mouth. Without waiting, she encouraged two of his fingers within. As her tongue swiped and sucked on his fingers like they were a tasty treat, Ivar lost all ability to think or resist. His hand still on her, gripped her thigh to ground himself, to confirm this was not a dream. 

 Women never paid attention to him, never looked at him with lust. After the latest raid in England where he proved his prowess in strategy and as a warrior, less women looked at him with disgust.

 But never this. 

 Never had one put him under a spell that made him want to sell his soul to possess her. Never had he seen desire darken a woman's eyes as they beheld him. Never had his own body and mind reacted with such a carnal, animalistic instinct. 

 He pulled his fingers from her mouth and dropped his hand to curl around her throat with just the slightest pressure. "Are you a thrall?"

 "No." She answered in a breathy tone, that only intensified his growing lust. Then she leaned closer, her lips brushing his ear, those barely contained breasts almost in his face. "Do with me what you want, Ivar the Boneless. I am yours tonight."

 Whatever previous desire bubbled in his veins exploded at hearing her alluring whisper. A guttural groan lodged in his throat. The hunger for her reached an all-consuming, feverish pitch. Without a word, he pushed himself to his feet, slipping the crutch under his arm. "Come."

 He half expected her to laugh and walk away but instead, she traced a hand down the tunic over his torso with a purr of pleasure. Then when she looked up at him coyly once more, he was halfway to throwing her onto the table behind him to ravish her right there. 

 She silently followed him back to his room. The whole walk his mind raged, both in desire and fear. He knew he could not pleasure her as a man but this ethereal creature that followed him deserved to be worshipped. And she had chosen him tonight. Out of all those in the hall, including his brothers…. she chose him. 

 He vowed to make sure she did not regret it. 

 He dismissed his personal thrall as they walked in, pleased to see the fire lit in the small hearth and furs laid out before it. The door closed, echoing in the room. Once alone, he moved over to sit on a nearby stool, leaning his crutch on the wall behind him. 

 She watched the fire, standing in the middle of his room. Her clothing appeared almost translucent in this light, a way of directing and guiding the eye along her perfect body. 

 "Take off your clothes." He commanded in a husky tone. 

 With a seductive wink back at him, she tugged on the few ties keeping the minimal clothing on her flawless body. In a moment, everything pooled at her feet….and he damn near swallowed his tongue. Bare before him, he was convinced there was nothing more stunning, more gorgeous than her. She put every sunset to shame, every spring flower, every star to grace the night sky, nothing could ever compare to her. 

 "Dance for me, my beauty." 

 A beguiling smile on her lips, she watched him for a moment. Then she began to move. A slow sway of her hips, hands trailing up her body to rise above her head. 

 There was no force that could tear his gaze away from her. When she danced in the Great Hall, he had been memorized…. but now, it would be sinful to remove his eyes from her graceful form. The circular motion of her hips, her hands tracing the curves of her body, the heavy-lidded eyes that watched him. He wanted nothing more than to sit at her feet for eternity and watch her dance. To worship at her altar and bestow her with gifts from the Aesir. 

 Then she began to spin slowly, allowing him to see all of her, a music leading her that only she was aware of. At one point, she squatted down and slowly rose, only to snap her hips up in a way that made him audibly growl. His hands were clenched in his lap, desperate to touch her, to replace her hands with his as they caressed her body. 

 Finally he could stand it no longer, this enchanting, sensual dance that made his blood boil ceaselessly with desire. 

 He swallowed thickly, mouth dry. "Go by the fire." He demanded. 

 If she was confused by his command, she said nothing. Turning around she sashayed over to the furs laid in front of the small hearth in his room. His eyes greedily drunk in the curves of her body as she moved. She laid down on the pile of furs before the hearth, unashamed in her nudity. With the colors of the flames and shadows painted across her body, she appeared ethereal. Something only for the gods to view. Perfection at its purest form.

 Sitting on the stool, he quickly worked the straps of his braces, never taking his eyes off her. Unwilling to miss her glory for even a moment. She laid on her side, gaze on him. One hand propped her head up while the other skimmed those curves highlighted by the flames. 

 Once freed, he crawled over to her like the predator he was. Hunger and domination with each placement of his hands and shift of his shoulders. There was no doubt who was in control. His fierce gaze never removed from her, keeping her pinned with the same strength as if ropes held her down. As he approached, she silently rolled onto her back, an intensity in those eyes as they watched him and a kittenish smile on her lips. With that, he crawled up her body until he hovered over her, blanketing her perfect form. Then he waited. Staring down at her, he was shocked once again that she chose him. That she currently lay beneath, pliant to his touch and commands. It was a powerful and dark sensation. To have this control, this power over her….to have her at his mercy. A more rapturous feeling than killing Christian priests or obliterating any army. 

 "Ivar…." She sighed out, tracing the line of his jaw with her finger. "Don't keep me waiting."

 A crooked grin grew on his face. Here lay this Valkyrie, this goddess, this divine creature beneath him, begging for him. Without wasting a moment, his mouth descended on her skin, his arms holding himself just above her. He placed open-mouth kisses along her chest, loving the soft sounds of pleasure it drew from her. His tongue traced the curve of her breasts, paying special attention to the tattoo of a flower between them. Suddenly he drew one of her nipples into his mouth, causing her back to arch. Her hand flew up to grip his braids, as he sucked and licked the bud until it was hard and peaked, then he switched to the other side to repeat his ministrations. 

 "Ivar…." She moaned, tugging on his braids, hips rolling beneath them. 

 "Shhhh…. soon." He nipped at the side of her breast, pleased with the heat that flared in her eyes. "We go at my pace…. and I plan on taking my time."

 Slowly he slithered his way down her body, his tongue leading the way over her soft skin. There was nowhere he did not worship with his mouth, nowhere safe that his tongue did not covetously explore. By the time he was done with her, his mouth and tongue intimately knew every inch of her and the erotic sounds those spots drew from her lips. With a long swipe of his tongue starting at her sternum, he trailed it down between her breasts to her belly only to end at the top of her womanhood. 

 He glanced up from between her legs, the scent of her arousal a beacon for him to follow. She laid there, bathed in flames, coated in his saliva, chest rising and falling like the waves of the seas, with her eyes closed and mouth partly open. Never had he witnessed anything more magnificent. 

 "Still with me, my beauty?"

 Her eyes fluttered open to peek at him, a tantalizing smile on her lips. "Always."

 With that, he dove into her. His mouth feasted on the juices coming from her womanhood. It was nothing like he expected. She tasted sweeter than honey, stronger than ale. He continued to lap and lick her, wanting more, needing more of her taste. For he swore, this was the nectar of the gods. A sweet ambrosia not meant for mortal men. 

 Her cries of pleasure doubled his resolve to ravish her with his tongue. To bring her such pleasure that she would always remember him. He flicked at her clit with his tongue, watching her keen to the ceiling above. Her hips rolled as he sucked at her folds with reckless abandon. 

 Each mewl and cry from her mouth, made him feel like a god. Each chanting of his name seemed to strengthen his body to continue. Even as he laid on the floor, propped up on his elbows, her legs over his shoulders, he felt no pain. As if her ecstasy flowed back into him. Instead of the constant ache of pain from his legs that clawed at his mind ceaselessly, for once it was silenced. All he was aware of…. was her. As if she invaded his body and possessed his mind. 

 If he was to die now, with her cries of pleasure filling his ears, he knew Odin would still allow him into Valhalla. For to bring this celestial being pleasure must be akin to the glory of battle. His blood roared in his ears, forcing him to continue, desperate for more. Her taste on his tongue was a craving he never knew he had until now. In the cradle of her thighs was his new favorite place to exist. 

 When she peaked, when her pleasure overwhelmed her and his name was screamed into the very heavens above, he greedily ate away at her, drinking everything down and still yearning for more. He licked at her womanhood through the aftershocks, her taste and scent all his senses wanted to know. 

 Once satisfied, he peered up at her, expecting to see her blissed-out, eyes closed and immobile. Instead what he witnessed made him freeze, unable to move.

 She observed him with eyes that glowed like two full moons on the darkest of nights. 

 Where once he had been the predator, intent on devouring her, adamant to possess her…. now he understood. He was the prey. He was the one caught in the spider's web. He was the one now owned by her alone. Those glowing eyes entranced him, preventing him from looking away, sealing his mouth shut to call out. Unable to do anything but gawk at her in a bewildered, longing awe. 

 Slowly she leaned up, staring at him. He could not remember moving. All his mind could fathom were those eyes…. those glowing orbs that he swore had seen Valhalla, that galaxies swirled amidst, that stole his soul and branded her mark on him. When he next blinked, he was sitting, with her straddling his lap, in all her exquisite, naked glory. Her eyes beheld him with softness, her hands a gentle weight on his shoulders, even her bare breasts pressed against his chest, all of it alluded a power that could only be answered with reverence. 

 "Who…. are you?" He stuttered out. 

 She smiled; a captivating thing that made him want to worship her again but also sink his teeth into her bottom lip. "I have been called many things throughout my life. But tonight, those names do not matter. Tonight, I am simply y/n…. Tonight, I am here for you."

 "Y/n?"

 She purred as if the name stoked a fire within her. "Yes, my valiant warrior." Her hand tangled in his braids again, almost guiding his head to the side as her plump lips skimmed his jawline. "I have heard your prayers, seen your cries. I cannot give you your legs but I will give you what I can."

 A quake raced up his spine. "What?"

 "Shhhh…. surrender to me." 

 Hesitantly, she pressed her lips to his, as if giving him time to pull away. Instead, he felt a jolt shoot through him. He groaned, opening his mouth, allowing her to take control. He had thought her taste as he lapped greedily at her core was ambrosia, but her mouth…. oh, the taste of her mouth was both death and life combined. Something so intoxicating and potent, it stole the very breath from his lungs while a vitality bleed into his veins simultaneously.  Her mouth held him prisoner, a melding of their lips and tongues that scorched him in every way deliciously possible. 

 "Do you feel it?" She whispered, before delving into his mouth again with an even greater need. 

 And he did. By this point, his legs should be screaming at him, especially with her weight on his thighs. Instead there was no pain, no ache. Only blissful tingles danced on his nerves and a fire stirred in his belly. 

 He wrenched his mouth from hers, eyes wide and panting as he gawked at her. 

 "I cannot heal you," she quietly said, eyes still glowing, "but I can take some of your pain in exchange for the pleasure you gave me."

 Unexpected tears welled in his eyes. Pain, his constant companion since birth, now was barely a blip on his mental radar. He dropped his head to her chest, overwhelmed by the lessened pain and bliss coursing through his veins. As he thought about it, as he feasted on her, every lick, every caress of his tongue against her, pain drained from his body like slow droplets of water. It was only now he noticed, so caught up in her exquisite taste, that he easily could become drunk on and never wish to be sober again. 

 She spoke against his ear, authority and power ringing in each word. "Hear my words, Ivar the Boneless. Your fame will live on for generations. You will not be forgotten, in this life or the next. This is my final gift that I give you."

 She drew his face back to hers, pressing her lips to his in a fiery, desperate kiss. Her words, her touch, her taste, everything felt seared into the very marrow of his bones. A burst of white light and ecstasy flooded through him, making him wonder for a second if he died. 

 When he opened his eyes, mind hazy as if intoxicated, it was to find himself alone. Frantic, he looked around. Yet there was nothing to show of her presence. Not even her discarded clothes lay on the floor anymore. 

 "No….no, no, no." He mumbled, refusing to believe she was gone…. but there was no denying the truth. Yet even as he sat there, tears still slipping down his cheeks, he could feel her presence with the absence of pain. He could still taste her on his tongue. Strength and vitality flowed through his crippled body in ways he had never felt before. 

 He was unsure how long he sat there before a quick knock on his door interrupted his thoughts. It opened to reveal Hvitserk who cautiously stepped in, eyes scanning the room. 

 "You alright, brother?"

 Ivar wondered at the stupid question then realized he must be referring to the evidence of tears still staining his cheeks. Hastily he wiped them away on his sleeve. "What are you doing here?"

 "We thought we heard something…. I came to check on you." He tilted his head and scanned the room once again. "Where is she?"

 Ivar turned his face to the fire, without answering. How could he explain all that just occurred without sounding mad? That a glorious being chose him, used him for her pleasure and then gave him priceless gifts. No, no one would believe that. This was a memory, a present for him alone to cherish. 

 "You know if you need advice with pleasuring a woman, I am more than willing to help. They do call me the love guru." Hvitserk chuckled but immediately silenced at the stony glare Ivar sent his way. "Um, right. Well, I'll head back out." He started to walk away but stopped at Ivar's call. 

 "Wait!" When Hvitserk turned back around, Ivar swallowed thickly then continued. "What…. what color are my eyes?"

 The flaxen-haired brother moved closer. "Um, blue…. a vibrant blue…. they almost look like they are glowing but with a veil over them. I've never seen them like that before. Are you feeling alright? Do you want help getting to your bed?"

 Ivar smiled longingly, his chest squeezing at his brother's words. "No….no, I feel… I feel great, Hvitty."

 "Um, sure. Do you need anything?"

 "No, you can go back out to the feast."

 "Okay, good night, Ivar."

 Ivar did not answer, only just hearing the door closing as turned back to face the dancing flames. His mind drifted to thinking about her, his beauty. 

 Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something nestled between the furs. Carefully he maneuvered himself over to gently grab it, curiosity pushing him forward despite caution. Cradling it in his hand like a priceless treasure, he now could see what it was; a pendant, only the size of his thumb, but it was in the color and shape of a full moon and an etching that matched the tattoo of the flower between her breasts. 

 "Y/n." He whispered, as if prompted by something to say her name. To his surprise, the pendant glowed faintly for a moment, so reminiscent of her eyes before dulling back. 

 "Thank you." He slipped his necklace off with Thor's hammer and added the pendant. Once back on his neck, he lifted the pendant and kissed it, only to stifle a moan as the faintest hints of her taste tingled on his lips. 

 Feeling euphoric, he laid back on the pile of furs, pressing the pendant to his lips. He closed his eyes, trying to remember every moment with her. He prayed that he could see her once again, either in this life or in Valhalla. For he knew, there would never be another like her. He had no idea who or what she was, only the name she gave him. A name that would be branded upon his heart and soul for all eternity. 

#vikings #vikings ivar #vikings fanfiction #vikings fandom #vikings imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #ivar the boneless x you #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #Hvitserk #Hvitserk Ragnarsson #hvitserk lothbrok #ubbe #ubbe ragnarsson #Ubbe Lothbrok #Sigurd #sigurd ragnarsson #based off moodboard #mz writes #mzwrites

[slowpoke-fics]

Migraine

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Dean x reader, platonic Sam x Reader

Summary: reader is scared to let the boys in and tell them about the chronic migraines she suffers from, after a hunt the truth comes out and you're shocked with how they respond

Warnings: smut, no a too whole lot, two paragraphs on 3000 words, nothing too triggering I think, medicine, as always, I might have missed something read at your o w n risk

A/N: It might be a little long, tbh I dont know what a long/short fic looks like but it's def one I could've split and didn't. I really enjoyed writing this one, am having a little bit of a block after writing six fics in a day. shout out to my first smut in at least five years.

You had been hunting with Sam and Dean for a couple of months, finally feeling like you had earned your place. You didn't feel comfortable letting them know your weaknesses, which is why you didn't tell them you had migraines. You were able to cover for the most part, hiding it from the family you've come to know quite well. Most of the time. Sometimes you just couldn't, the pain overbearing and you just had to stay in bed all day, "It's just cramps." You lied to the boys, who assumed that you were covering your face and curled up like a child because of your embarrassment and pain. Sooner or later they will find out, and that's just what happened on this witch hunt.

You were the first one back into the motel, just wanting to lie down, Sam and Dean following suit. Dean slammed the door, causing you to jump with a jolt of pain to your head, reminding you of the already particularly bad headache you had. Thank god you'd be home soon. You went into the bathroom, wanting to shower after a long day of hunting the witch down, turning the lights off as you shut the door, you sighed, the pain growing. You turned the shower on, making it just a little warm, undressing and sitting down, putting your knees close to yourself, held together by your crossed arms with your head on your knees just enjoying the relief the water brings you.

You must've lost track of time because the next thing you hear is Dean, pounding on the bathroom door, basically screaming, "Y/n, damn, we want hot water!" You groaned, "Fuck off Dean! I'll be out in a minute," you shouted, much harsher than you wanted. You heard Dean grumble but couldn't understand it. Ignoring him, you finished washing your body, head already hurting bad enough it was too much to have to stand and wash, worried you might puke if you moved around more than you needed.

You came out of the shower, laying on the bed, closing your eyes, waiting to leave when you heard Sam speak up. "Did you get hurt and not tell us?" You rolled your eyes, then rose up and looked at Sam. "What?" You were confused, why would you not tell them if you got hurt? You looked over your body for any marks as Dean spoke, "Why else would you take so damn long?" You glared at him, "Sorry, I guess I won't enjoy my showers anymore." You laid back down, Dean looked at you with a pang of guilt you didn't see. He was just, in his own way, trying to check on you.

When both Sam and Dean had showered, you packed up your stuff, not caring if you left anything behind, you led out the door, crawling into the backseat of the impala. As you started rolling out, you realized it was going to be a long trip when the first wave of nausea hit you. Leaning into the window, enjoying the cold, you closed your eyes, knowing sleep would not come.

About two hours into the trip back to the bunker, after not saying a single word, you finally spoke up. "Dean," he looked at you through the rearview mirror, "pull the car over, Sam you gotta let me out." Dean was a little shocked, "What," he said quickly. "Pull the car over, before I hurl in your baby." At that, the car near immediately stopped, Sam quickly allowing you to get out. Almost as soon as your foot hit the ground, before you were even all the way out of the car, vomit spewed from your mouth. Sam was rubbing your back, not sure why you were sick, as you'd never gotten car sick.

Dean got out of the car, circling it to come to your side, worry written all over his face. Dean replaced Sam, Dean whispering something to him that you couldn't hear over the splashing on the road. You heard the car door shut, and felt Dean pull your hair back. Once you were done, Dean, helping you raise up, asked, "What's going on?" You looked at him, worry still plastered on his face.

"Nothing, I just got car sick," still feeling like you could throw up, you took a deep breath. The pain of your headache intensified by the fit. Dean laughed a little, "You've never gotten car sick in your life," shaking his head and adding, "I mean," down to a whisper, "are you pregnant?" You had to laugh a little, regretting as pain soared through your head, "No, Dean, why would you even ask that?"

"Well, in the same night you take an hour longer showering than you usually do and vomit on the side of the road." He smirked, reminiscing, "I mean after our encounter a couple of months ago-" You had to interrupt him, "We fucked once, I also recall telling you I was on birth control." Dean chuckled, "What can I say? I've got strong swimmers." Smug son of a bitch. "I'm not, can we please just go home? I got car sick, it happens."

Dean got very serious, "Not until you tell me what's going on, I'm worried now." Silently panicking, afraid that if you told them you had chronic migraines they'd think you couldn't go on hunts and you'd be alone again, but really not wanting him to worry, you finally spoke up, "It's just a migraine." Dean's face contorted in confusion, "A migraine? Since when do you get migraines?" You looked away from him, toward the trees lining the side of the road, "They're chronic, I've had them for years." Deans face softened, he reached for his passenger door and opened it for you, allowing you to crawl in.

"You all right?" Sam spoke from the backseat, thankful you didn't have to crawl back there again. You just nodded, bringing your knees to your chest and lying back against the window with your eyes closed. Dean started the car and after a few minutes he couldn't keep his mouth shut, "Why didn't you just tell us?" Sam didn't say anything, also wanting to know why this was such a big deal for you to keep a secret.

You took a sharp breath in, not moving a muscle, not even looking at them, "I was afraid you'd tell me I couldn't hunt with you guys anymore." Dean looks at sam through the rearview, the guilt on Sams face matching his own, "We would never-" Dean gripped the wheel a little tighter, "We would have worked around them, so you can be home when they're this bad. It wouldn't be puking on the side of the road horrible." Dean shook his head, reaching across to you to rub your arm, you looked at him, and he jerked his head in a come here motion. You did as you were told, starting to scoot over, he redirected your movements so your head was in his lap. His fingers running through your hair, his hand finding the back of your neck apply just a tiny bit of pressure right at the base of your skull, rubbing up and down softly, alleviating some of the pain, somehow letting you sleep the remaining trip.

When you woke up Sam was already out of the car, Dean opening your door you sleepily sat at the edge of the seat, head throbbing. Putting your hand on your forehead, elbow on the back of his bench seat, eyes still closed, you felt Dean pull your hands to his neck. "No," you jerked back, eyes filled with tears at how bad the morning light was making you feel, "I can walk." Dean huffed, "Shut up and let me carry you." You resigned and put your arms around his neck, laying your head in the crook of his neck, loving how he smelled.

You noticed as he carried you in, every single light that could be out, was. Sam must've done that for you. Opening the door to his room, you started to protest, "Shhh," he gently laid you on the bed and pulled the covers up for you, "just let me." Dean left the room, you're not sure where, but there was a pang of sadness in your chest, wanting to be near him. He came back and placed a cool rag on the back of your neck and one on your forehead, he touched your lips, slowly dragging his thumb over your lips, speaking softly, "Open up, let this pill dissolve on your tongue okay? It might be a little nasty, but it'll help." You took the pill, as it started to dissolve you scrunched up your face at the nasty taste, causing Dean to chuckle.

Dean headed to he door, it was now or never, "Will-" you started and your voice broke a little, you're not sure out of embarrassment or pain, "will you stay?" Dean smiled at you, coming to the side of the bed, crawling under the covers with you, "As long as you want me." You rolled over to him, laying your head on his chest as he put his arm around you. He started playing with your hair, running his fingers up and down your arm.

You wanted to be able to properly enjoy this, but your head hurt so bad. After about fifteen minutes you couldn't help but cry, silently, wanting the headache to go away. Dean noticed, feeling his damp shirt, he didn't say anything, just kissed your head. "They're not normally this bad," you sniffled, "I can usually push through them." Dean started rubbing your back, knowing how nervous you were to tell them, not really understanding why you'd believe they would say you couldn't hunt with them. "Y/n," he contemplated on what to say.

"You don't have to hide anything from us, you don't have to push through them, if you're in pain it's okay, we all have our faults, you don't ever have to be afraid that we'd tell you to leave. You're our family now, we need you. I need you." Your heart skipped a beat, did he really need you? In what way does he need you? "What do you mean?" Dean had to admit it, had to come clean, now or never.

"I don't mean just hunts," you looked up at him, shocked, tear stained eyes which broke his heart. He gently cupped your face, leaning forward and bringing his lips to yours, you instantly responded, pressing into the kiss, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth, he pulled back, "God you taste better than ever." You laughed, laying your head back down, "Okay, I understand." He couldn't do chick flic, it was hard enough for him to say he needed you, but he needed you to know.

Sam came in, replacing your rags, "You want some more medicine?" You nodded, pushing your hand on Dean's chest so he knew he couldn't get up. "Sammy, she'd love that but doesn't want me to get up." Sam laughed, your cheeks flushing, "No problem, Y/n." Dean placed his hand on yours, "I feel like a bath might help, I can run you one." You shrugged, "lotta work." Dean copied your shrug, "Not really, just gotta start the water and put the bubbles in." You instantly responded, talking over him, "Not you, me," you pause and lifted your head to looked at him, eyebrow cocked, "bubbles? I don't have bubbles?" Dean laughed heartily, "Not you, me. My bubbles and my work, I'll do it all, nothing I ain't seen before." He winked at you, smug bastard. You laid your head back down on his chest, shrugging again.

Sam came back, Dean lifting his hand up to take the medicine from Sam as you lifted yourself up and grabbed the cup from him, "It's coffee, it might help." You couldn't turn to face him, didn't want to, "Thank you so much." Sam smiled, but you couldn't see, "Of course, anything." You heard the door close softly as you took your place back on Dean, resting the cup on his chest.

After a few minutes after you had taken the medicine, Dean slid from underneath you, taking the coffee cup, causing you to groan in displeasure. Dean chuckled, and headed toward the bathroom. Once in there he lit a singular candle, started the water, and put the bubbles in. Coming back to you he wrapped his arms around your waist, letting you move your limbs to where they needed to be.

He sat you down on the bathroom sink, while he took his shirt off you removed your own. He reached behind you, unclasping your bra and pulling it off you. Dean wanted to tell you how gorgeous you were, wanted to touch you, but he knew you were more than not up for it. He knows when to be respectful and when to be downright filthy. You slid off the counter, you pushed your pants down, just enough so they could effortlessly fall off of you.

Dean stepped into the tub first, holding his hand out to you. You happily took it, just wanting to lie back down. Dean put your back to him, wrapping an arm around you he slunk to the ground, water splashing lightly. He pulled you back to him, allowing you to lay your head back on him. His fingers found their way to your scalp, applying a small amount of pressure, taking some of your pain. You had no idea that the Dean Winchester could be this, soft.

You just laid there with Dean, letting the water sooth you, letting Dean make this better. You couldn't think, just lay. You don't know how long you laid there, laid in complete silence with Dean taking care of you. "Do you want me to touch you?" Dean spoke, barely loud enough that you could hear him, you hummed, wordlessly asking what he meant. "I did some research while we were in the bed, lots of women have said that masturbating can seriously help." Still speaking softly, making sure that you weren't going to get overstimulated. You thought for a minute, all the times that you had touched yourself in hopes for the pain to lessen-all the times it worked. "Mhmm." Dean just continued rubbing your scalp, "Say it." A twinge of need pooled inside you, "Touch me Dean, I want it."

Dean needed no further encouragement, he needed to know this is what you wanted, needed you to admit it. He wasted no time, slowly working his hands to your nipples, fingers teasing, tickling their way to touch you. He twirled your nipples between his thumb and index finer, gently pulling them up, eliciting a whimper from you. "Don't worry good girl, I'm gonna make you feel better." Deans hands trailed to your waist, pulling you up a couple of inches, giving him better access.

Dean's right hand tiptoed to your clit, gently rubbing your bundle of nerves, rubbing circles until your hips bucked forward, wanting more. Dean's left hand moving to your lower stomach, resting lazily. You opened your eyes and stared into his eyes, a soft moan falling from your lips, "More." Dean smirked, quickly raising his left hand to push your head back, nonverbally communicating for you to rest, just enjoy this, then returning his hand to it's home.

Dean's thick fingers slid inside you with a thrilling stretch, you gasped, forgetting how good he filled you up. "Good girl, I know you can take it," Dean started to pump his fingers slowly, curling them upwards to hit just the right spot. "Mmmm," you hummed, almost singing, "please." Dean sped up, his fingers hitting your g-spot, palm rubbing your clit, you clenched tightly around him, slowing him down but making him damn near growl. You bucked your hips forward, panting, squeezing his wrist with one hand and grabbing the side of the tub with the other. "Gonna make you cum," Dean nipped your earlobe, a whimper. "Gonna show you that you need me," moved to your neck, a moan. "Gonna remind you what it feels like to gush around me," another nibble, another kiss. A desperate desire pooled in your belly, pussy clenching, clit throbbing. "You gonna cum for me? Cum on my fingers like a good girl?" Dean pressed his left hand down, the pressure sending you over the edge, you spasmed around his fingers, legs shaking, juices leaking out of you and into the tub. He let you ride it out, until your legs had calmed and you had stopped pulsating around his fingers. He moved his hands back to your scalp, continuing the previous scalp massage.

You tried to catch your breath, his thick cock resting between your legs, you could almost see it throb. You reached in-between your legs, starting to pump his cock but he moved your hand. "No," he kissed your lips, then your forehead, "once you're feeling better we can discuss it." You moved your hand to rest on his thigh, "can we just lay here a minute?" He hummed in approval, letting you close your eyes and enjoy the moment of bliss.

After awhile, you had almost fallen asleep, Dean started to get up, slowly dragging himself out of the tub careful not to disturb you too much. Once Dean had found the towel in the under lit room he reached his hand to you, helping you stand up. You stepped out of the tub, reaching for the towel but he pulls it just out of your reach. Dean sighs, "You may feel a little better but I still want to take care of you," starting to pat you dry, making sure to get the dripping tips of your beautiful hair, "I want to, please let me." You let him finish drying you off, let him slip his own shirt and boxers on you, wondering when he'd have gotten them. You even let him carry you back to his bed. Once he laid down, you were immediately beside him, filling the perfect spot next to him. "Sleep." He commanded, it was not a suggestion, and you did.

When you woke up, your back was facing Dean, his chest pressed to you, arm wrapped tightly around you like you'd run. You turned a little to look at his sleeping form, surprised when his eyes fluttered open, "Mornin', any better?" You turned towards him, placing your leg between his, your own arm underneath his and wrapped around him, "Manageable." You laid there, for how long you weren't sure. Eventually Dean spoke up, "We should go get some breakfast." You nodded, reluctantly rolling to the side of his bed, swinging your legs over.

You and Dean walked to the kitchen, Sam already cooking, hearing you cross the threshold into the kitchen he spun around. Upon realizing you guys had gotten up he immediately grabbed the coffee pot and filled up the cup sitting next to a few pills on the counter and creamer. You gently chuckled, "What a saint," you slapped Deans arm. "I told you," Dean started as you sat down and he moved to get his own cup of coffee, "we could've helped you manage."

You started fiddling your thumbs, not able to look at the boys, "I know-sigh-I was afraid, I'm sorry, I know it's dumb but-" looking to Dean, "I was afraid I'd be too much, lose the family I've come to love. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you." Sam turned to you, pausing from the breakfast. "It's not dumb, Y/n. If you're hurting, if you're struggling, if you're afraid, we face it together, all three of us. Because you're right, we're family, and you belong here. Your problems are ours." Dean beside you now, hand placed on your back, thumb drawing small figure eight's, "We can help you, face anything this hellhole throws at us, stick together and say fuck it together," a kiss placed on your lips, pressing into you with loving force, "you just have to let me."

#supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fluff #supernatural smut #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x you #dean Winchester x you #dean smut #dean fluff #dean Winchester smut #dean Winchester fluff #dean winchester fluff #sam x y/n #sam x reader #sam x you #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Main Story Chapter 2-13: 时间针脚 The Patchwork of Time Translation

“Hold on tight. There’s no need to be afraid.”

*Light and Night Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *CG Image used with permission from 蓝咕咕 ☆ *Main story tag will be #For Light and Night

Evan: Watch out!

The floor of the elevator suddenly tilts, the powerful force of the action knocking us into the wall. Evan raised a hand, bracing it against the wall while he used the other to shield me within his embrace.

The sound of screeching metal against metal rang out in the air as the elevator, which had originally stopped, continued plummeting once more!

The ear-piercing roar intensified, and all I could see were the red digits counting down with tremendous speed. Tears spilt forth from my eyes like a rushing stream.

My entire world spirals as the feeling of weightlessness crashed down upon my being, its clutches iron-clad. I closed my eyes in utter terror, my heart seemingly stopping.

Only one thought was reverberating in my mind: I don’t want to die like this!

❖☆———————————★❖

Evan: Hold on tight.

The arm around my waist tightened its grip while the palm at the back of my head patted twice in reassurance.

The elevator was freezing and dark, yet this embrace was all-consuming and so very warm. It gradually calmed my panic-stricken heartbeats.

Evan: There’s no need to be afraid.

Evan kept his gaze firmly on the rapidly changing display panel within the darkness of the lift, a deep crease between his brows. An increasingly vibrant crimson hue flashes past his eyes.

As the crimson fades into nothingness, the elevator jolts thrice more before coming to a standstill.

Ba-thump, ba-thump…

A set of calm and panicked heartbeats resonated, ringing out within the small enclosed space.

❖☆———————————★❖

Evan: Okay. Everything's fine now.

I didn’t dare to see if the elevator would continue plummeting once more. My body stiffened, tightly coiled and unwilling to relax.

Then, a beam of light shone from a phone to the elevator’s door. It shook slightly from side to side.

Evan: Does this make it a little better?

MC: Yeah…

I had yet to recover from the shock. I clung tightly onto his sleeves, nodding dazedly.

Evan: Don't be scared. We'll be able to get out soon, trust me.

He placed the phone into my hand. He then reached into his pocket, procuring two pen caps.

❖☆———————————★❖

Evan slotted both pen caps onto each of his index fingers and crossed them. The shadow of a little rabbit was cast upon the halo of light shining against the elevator door.

As if frightened, the little rabbit trembled twice. Its two floppy long ears hung close to its body as it huddled against the ground.

❖☆———————————★❖

MC: This is a frightened rabbit.

Evan: Yes, well… It resembles your earlier self quite a bit.

He looked at me, a mischievous smile surfacing within his eyes.

Not wanting to lose out, I picked up the two pen caps and lifted them. The rabbit shadow cast upon the door suddenly became much more lively.

MC: As if!

Evan: Then, why do you always seem to be in such a pickle whenever I see you?

I opened and closed my mouth, unable to formulate a response against that. The last time I met him, I was frantically trying to get out of the way of danger. And this time, the elevator broke down, and I even clung onto him so hard that his clothes were all crumpled and wrinkly...

In the end, I still needed him to comfort me.

MC: I definitely won't be in one the next time we meet.

Evan: Oh?

MC: I'm actually pretty brave! Normally… I just never expected an accident like this to befall us so suddenly out of nowhere.

Evan: It doesn't matter whether or not you're brave. You've still fared splendidly earlier.

His smile was filled with firm assurance. It made me subconsciously throw all fear and panic that I’d felt right out the window.

MC: You’ve been stuck here for so long. Wouldn’t it affect your work?

MC: You’re supposed to be preparing for the succession ceremony, aren't you? Yet, you ended up disappearing for so long.

Evan nodded, seemingly troubled.

MC: I can help vouch for you that we were stuck in the elevator if the CEO gets mad at you.

Evan: Do you… know who's the CEO?

MC: Nope. Although, I’ve heard the others talk about how nice he is; about how he’s a gentleman and about how he’s very easy to approach.

MC: And about how he’s very hardworking. He arrives at the company earlier than everyone else and only leaves in the morning when everyone’s gone...

MC: But these are all rumours, so it’s bound to be a little exaggerated here and there.

The mirth in his eyes only grew.

Evan: Hmm… and?

MC: And I think he’s like Doraemon! Only in my head, of course.

MC: I hear that he can even magic out band-aids and bruises spray from his pocket in the dead of the night!

A warm smile slowly forms on his face. Looks like my words managed to amuse him well.

❖☆———————————★❖

Ding-dong!

The lights above us flashed twice before coming back to life, followed by the “ding” that denoted a floor arrival.

MC: We're saved?

❖☆———————————★❖

The elevator doors slowly slid open to reveal a well-built man. His eyes widened in surprise upon seeing us.

??: ……!

Evan: Sorry. I have some business to tend to. Can Zhou Yan send you over instead?

MC: No need. You can just go on ahead, I’ll be fine by myself.

Evan nods and doesn’t say anything more.

I waved at him before running straight to the front desk.

❖☆———————————★❖

To prevent the accident with the elevator from happening again, I reported the incident to the administration about how it had broken down earlier.

❖☆———————————★❖

Time passed quickly in the afternoon, and soon, it was almost time for the CEO’s succession ceremony to begin. The venue was already filled with people the moment I entered.

The media were all armed to the teeth with their mics and cameras at the ready as they all wanted to be the first ones to catch a glimpse of how the new CEO of the Warson Group looked like.

Hao Shuai: The back row's still empty. Let's move over. No one's gonna find out if we sleep in the back!

Li Man'man: I don't think that's a good idea…

Man With Quiff Hairstyle: When's this going to go on till? It's getting in the way of my work.

Brother Mao: See if anyone's gonna give you their time of the day here, Mr. Oh-I'm-so-serious.

Zheng Lin: We can't do that. The administration has already allocated seats for each Team. We're up front.

Brother Mao: Front seats are a win! I wanna see the true face of this mysterious CEO!

Everyone followed Zheng Lin, seating themselves in the front row.

The ceremony soon began. The announcer fixed up the mic. And after making a simple and brief introduction as an opening remark, the announcer raised his hand in a gesture for the next person to take the stage.

Announcer: Next, let us invite the new CEO of the Warson Group, Evan Lu, to speak!

Evan? I suddenly recalled the signature that had been beneath my offer from Warson.

Evan: Good afternoon, everyone. I thank you all for taking the time to attend the ceremony today despite your busy schedules.

Evan: I am Evan, and I will be taking over as the new CEO of the Warson Group.

I thought I’d misheard him. I dumbfoundedly raised my head.

It felt as if everything around me had gone out of focus. All I could see was the bright stage with all its brilliant lights and the man who stood in the centre of it.

My saviour from the Café back then; the one who comforted me back in the elevator, and the person currently standing on the stage… They were the one and the same.

I can't believe he's the CEO…

But now that I think about it; it all made sense. It was only logical for him to have been near the show venue of the competition if he was the Warson Group's new CEO. And it would make sense why he'd told me that he was preparing for the succession ceremony earlier as well.

Who would've thought that this was how everything played out to be...

Dumbfounded, I stared up at Evan. Those calm and bright eyes of his cut through the crowd and faced me, as if our minds were one.

It was alight with a warmth akin to the one that had been reflected within his eyes in the darkness of the elevator.

I was still stupefied by the time the succession ceremony came to a close and everyone left.

It was then that a cup of coffee appeared before me.

MC: … This is?

Zhou Yan: I'm Zhou Yan, Mr. Lu's assistant. We apologize for the scare you had earlier. This is from him.

He slipped the coffee into my grasp without a word before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

There was a familiar logo on the coffee cup. It was from the Café that Evan and I had met.

It was just like an inadvertent reminder that no matter what his identity, that wouldn't change the moments we'd shared before this day.

MC: Thank you, Doraemon.

❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Night⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Chapter 2-10) | Next Part: (Chapter 2-15)

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #萧逸 #Osborn #齐司礼 #Sariel #陆沉 #Evan #查理苏 #Charlie #夏鸣星 #Jesse #For Light and Night

[missdawnandherdusk]

No Place Like Home

Draco X Hufflepuff!Reader

An Alternate Reality (read the entire series here)

Summary: In a world with no such thing as magic, or wars, or potions, what happens when you find yourself in a muggle school with an equally confused Draco... and your very alive father? It’s a perfect world... but it’s not home. 

A/n: So, I watched WandaVision, and well I have a few things to say. Anyway here’s out Hufflepuff darling in the same situation and me toying with what she would choose on a much shorter time line. Let me know if this hurts you as much as it hurts me. 

“Miss Y/l/n!” The loud voice woke me from my slumber, and I sat up abruptly. “Please sleep on your own time and not in my classroom!”

“Sorry, professor,” I rubbed my eyes, blinking.

The room was a bright cream color with vibrant posters on the walls. The desks were a cheap knock off wood and the chairs were plastic and metal. The floor was tile. The projector showed... chemistry. The notebook under my arms was filled with chemistry notes all done in pencil. The kids around me weren’t in uniform. They were... muggle.

I was in a muggle school.

Internalizing my panic, I started to think furiously about how in the world I had ended up in a muggle school. I should be at... and I should be with... and I had a... with... and I was planning...

A splintering agony surged through my head. I gasped and pressed against my temples, trying to ease the pain.

“Miss Y/l/n! If you are going to disrupt my class, then please remove yourself!” My eyes flashed up to a stranger. I didn’t know a face that surrounded me.

I stumbled out of my seat and out of the classroom into the hallway. Again, the floors were tile and the walls an awful plaster painted an off-white. A bulletin board gave information about school spirit and upcoming events. All of the paper was an obnoxious neon color that did not aid my headache. My hand went to my bag to get out a... I frowned. I normally had them on me. They... they were...

In my painful fervor, I ran into someone. My headache subsided at the sight of him. 

“Draco!” I sighed in relief.

“Yes? Do I know you?” He raised an eyebrow at me, a cold look on his face. I took a small step back my brows furrowing. My hand went to the hollow of my neck where my locket normally hung, but it was gone.

“Draco,” I couldn’t believe it. “You don’t.... you don’t know who I am?”

“Well, I’ve seen you around school, but no.” He shrugged. “I didn’t know you knew my name,”

I know a lot more than just your name, I thought in vain. I worried my lip, trying to find the best course of action. There was no answer for me.

“I’m... Y/n,” I spoke slowly, to be sure of my words. “Could you... help me?” 

“Are you alright?” He almost scoffed.

“Uh... no not really,” I admitted. “I have a terrible headache and it feels like the room is spinning a bit,”

He sighed and rubbed his face. “Alright, I’ll take you to the nurse,” I didn’t expect his kindness. I don’t think he expected it either judging by the furrow of his brow and the indignation in his eyes.

As we walked along in the hall, I attempted to memorize the route, or even find some sort of marker that differentiated one hall from the next but there was nothing. It was a maze of mundane.

The only comfort I had was walking by Draco’s side. There was still something off. I yearned to reach and hold his hand. The longer we walked along the quicker my headache subsided. I had glimpses into memories of laughing with him. Dancing, walking, kissing, smiling, fighting...

I looked down at my hands and for the blink of an eye they were covered in blood. I gasped and the pain in my head intensified.

“Hey, woah, are you okay?” Draco asked, steadying me.

“No,” I screwed my eyes shut. “Something... something’s... Merlin I wish I could remember!” 

“Did... Did you just say Merlin?”

“...Yes,” I dared to open my eyes to see curiosity in Draco’s.

“Who in the world are you?” He was mystified, reaching out to steady me. As soon as his hand touched my shoulder, everything came into perspective.

A thousand memories came flooding back. Train rides and magic. Slytherins and Hufflepuffs. Harry Potter and Quidditch. Wands and short hair. Robes and castles. And Draco, a thousand times Draco. In every memory, woven into every part of my psyche. It always came back to him. It always centered on him.

“Draco, something is wrong,” I stressed, pacing the hall, the pain in my head gone now that my memories returned. “This... this isn’t right,”

“Well of course it isn’t right,” His words sparked a flicker of hope in my chest. Maybe I wasn’t crazy after all. “I shouldn’t be here. We should both be in class.”

“But you should be here!” I raised my voice. “How can you not remember me, Draco! How can you not remember everything we went through together!? Why does no one remember!? Where are we!?” My hands went to my hair to run through it anxiously but the perfectly done updo constrained me. “Oh this stupid hair!” I started to pull out the pins and ties that held it into place and muss it up until it was falling at odd angles around my shoulders. “Oh, I wish I had my wand so I could chop it all off!”

Draco’s eyes flashed to mine at my final statements, something familiar in his eyes. The Draco that I knew. The one who I loved. But it was soon gone replaced by the caring ditz of a schoolboy.

“No,” I refuted, wanting that look back. “Wait,” I paused, going to him. “You remembered something. I know that look,”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He stood, turning his back to me.

“Draco Malfoy,” I snapped. “You remember! Merlin all it took was me shouting at you! You arrogant egotistical little twat!” I was giddy with the fact that Draco remembered.

“I don’t—” Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. “I... I can’t see it all. Just... flashes. Brief glimpses... then it’s gone,” He turned to me, his brows knitted together. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “There’s just... there’s something off. Something missing. There’s supposed to be magic. And wands, and something called Hogwarts... and... Voldemort,”

Draco hissed and glared at me. “Don’t you ever say that name!” He pinned me to the hallway wall.

My eyes widened in shock at his outburst, but it was a brief moment because suddenly Draco was struggling to stand, staggering over to adjacent wall to steady him.

“Draco?” The concern in my voice was evident.

“I... I think I need to lie down,” He choked out.

“You do remember,” The revelation quelled my old fears but brought on new ones.

“I... my head hurts,”

“I know,” I comforted softly, reaching out for him. “Let’s get you to the nurse,”

“You have no idea where that is,” He muttered, leaning against me as a crutch.

“Not really,” A smile played at my lips.

“I liked your hair shorter... I can almost see it...” He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. “Why do you remember fully, and I can’t?”

“I don’t know...” I mused. “I don’t know if I’m even supposed to remember anything. This has to be some sort of spell... a curse.”

We had found our way to the office, Draco conscious enough that he remembered the way. The receptionist eyed us, but Draco with his usual schmooze, lied elegantly. It made me smile, knowing that he was still just as clever here as back... back home.

“Alright sweetie,” The receptionist clacked on her computer and smiled sweetly. “I’ll just call your dad and have him come and get you,”

“My dad? You’ll call my dad?” I stammered out, leaning against the raised front desk for support.

“Or I can call your mom if it’s too much trouble,” The receptionist smiled kindly. “Are you sure you’re alright dearie?” The nurse asked.

“She’s had a long day,” Draco held my shoulder, giving a tight smile. “It’s her migraine. It throws her off the rest of the day, hence our reason for coming.”

The receptionist smiled kindly and made the call... to my dad. Draco and I waited for a while in the lobby, near a fake Ficus that had no hope to flourish in the florescent lighting. He held my hand the entire time and let me lean on him for comfort and strength. I didn’t doubt that he could feel anxiety rolling off me in waves. Merlin, I wish I had a potion or two on me! It would allow me to think straight even for a moment.

“Is that my little sunshine?” The voice made me jump out of my skin and turn.

“Papa?” I gasped and broke free from Draco’s grasp and ran into my father’s arms, tears stinging my eyes.

“Hey there pumpkin,” My dad chuckled. “You haven’t called me that since you were two... you feeling alright sunshine?”

I drew away, staring... memorizing him. Photos didn’t do the kindness in his eyes any justice. And the warmth of his hold was intoxicating. It was everything I ever wanted.

“Just tell me it’s gonna be okay,” I whispered without thinking.

“Of course, it is,” He smiled, petting my hair softly. “Everything is going to be just fine,” 

“Dad?” I asked. He looked at me expectant. “I love you,”

“I love you too, sunshine,” His smile reached and lit up his eyes. “Now let’s get you home. You’ve had a long day,” He looked over my shoulder, to Draco. “Thank you, son, for taking care of her,”

The look in Draco’s eyes told me how much those few words meant to him, and how much Draco remembered.

“Hang on, dad,” I paused taking a step toward Draco.

It was a choice before me. Draco and a life of magic and danger and true love and battles between good and evil. Or my father and the chance at a normal, magic free life at a muggle school with no danger or fears that Draco could be a part of... that my dad could be a part of. The gravity of the situation made me reach to my locket for comfort but was met with the tangled waves of my long hair.

“This isn’t right,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face. “Don’t make me choose,” 

“Let’s go home, sunshine,” My dad spoke as if I hadn’t. As if I weren’t crying. I looked back at him one last time.

“I’m sorry,” I was really crying now. “But this isn’t my home. I love you, dad,”

Tears blurred my vision, but I felt Draco stand firm and ready beside me. My hand reached for a wand that wasn’t there.

“You couldn’t just be happy?” A voice echoed in the now vacant office. Draco hovering beside me, my breath quickened. “I tried to give you everything! A happy ending! Couldn’t you just be happy!?”

“...Mother?” I blinked rapidly, clearing my tears. “What did you do!?” I shouted at no one, at the disembodied voice.

“Just once, couldn’t you be happy? And play your part?” She materialized in front of us. “You could have been happy, my darling,”

“This?” I gestured around me at the white sterile scene and florescent lighting. I glanced up at Draco. “I’m not happy if I’m not where I belong,”

“In the middle of a war?” My mother sounded desperate. “As the leader of all of Hogwarts? In danger!? Fatherless!?” I flinched at that.

“With Draco,” I took his hand in mine. “And my friends. And... Abby.” I gasped, suddenly recalling. “And...”

“Pansy,” Draco breathed out, struggling to form more of the memory. 

“We have to go back,” There was no denying that. “This isn’t right,”

“If you want them, they can be here too. Anything you want.” She was desperate to make me stay, “You could be happy here. Walt... Your father could be here, no one could hurt you,” There were tears in her eyes. “You’d be safe,”

“I want to go home,” I choked out.

The world changed around me, and I felt a weight off my shoulders. Quite literally. My hair was short and cropped again, and a familiar weight hung around my neck. I reached up and ran my fingers over my locket.

“It isn’t safe, but it is good,” I murmured.

.

masterlist

.

more like this:

hufflepuff series

the serpent beneath

.

@coffee-addicti @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18@whygz@crazywritingbug @bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog@savingdraco  @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise @katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen@hxneybgb @belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms   @cocochanelthepupper @ninacotte @braelynn-johnston     @jiggllyy @darcypotter-blog  @thiccheerioss@lottie289 @beautiful-pegasus@tceedlmao @anonymous034 @bi-andready-tocry @dragonsandbread @the-queen-of-hell-things @alienmotel  @oh-itsnothing @sunflowerxsadnessw @fattycooter @fanficsigottaread @gweaslvy @strawberriesonsummer @gaysludge @ray-of-sunrise @artist-bby @shadowsingeraxolotl @quillsareforwriting @wollymalfoy @lilpieceoftoast @paper-cats @floweryjh @hufflautia @livize75 @annie-mcl @riathearora @live-like-luna @justathoughtfulangel @coconutdawn @skteaiy @naughtygranger @dragonsandbread @abundantxadorations @moony-artnstuff @and-then-a-girl-with-luv @1-800-luvsick @pandas-rice-field @in-slytherin-we-trust @emmaa-t @introvertedrae @infinity1o1 @echpr@dekulover @marshmallowtraver @cereuselle @lonely-skywalker @sleepysnapesnake @hoeforthefictional @coldlilheart @helen-paris @rosie-starlit-sky @vulture-withafile @hogstupefy @eveft @iraniq @groovyfluxie @cool-weirdo-wannabee-author @rosegold-thorns @criminaly-supernatural @ghostofdolans @mxl-foyrecs @ginger-haired-queen @bex4whovian @kellyrose193 @unlikelygalaxygiver @marvel-trash-was-taken @one-edgy-bitch@supersouthy @garbagejay@rejectedlonelyasianchild  @lucymxwell @coldlilheart @elia-the-bibliophile @biggalaxydreamland @fuckbuckyyy @hopem1218 @youareinllve @tyrusparker @3rdofkingdomtrees @i-mmunity @zero-nightshade @graym01 @fandomtrash88 @snakey-drakey @ceeellewrites @thatguppienamedbae @pinkleopardss @angel-blogging @xhoney-bee-x @jovialthings @samanthahaigwood @minigigglybabi @clumsy-writing-rdb @lahoete @yourenotafailureoverall @m-winchester-67 @shiningstar-byulxx@clumsy-writing-rdb @dracosathenaeum @dracofeltonmalfoy   @harryslouis @iilovemusic12us @itsbebeyyy @dumspirospero-1 @kaye-lantern @anerroroccurrrrred @franbow29 @big-galaxy-chaos @itsbebeyyy @gryffindors-weasley @ornella0910 @ultrabuzzlightyear @phantomface1983 @emmalee12 @kuyrukludenizkizi @aubreylovesthegames @deafeninglandpersonempath @ackermanbitch @oingo233 @drismultiverse-blog @majicbamana @harrypotter289 @marinettepotterandplagg @cupidpoison @brownwheatrice @introvertedrae @gryffindors-weasley @frecklesandfirecrackers @bitchinbadgers @mkstover @dracomalfoyreader @mortallythoughtfulgurl @sakumorubywy @smileycount @ceeellewrites @is-it-really-a-secret @blogforharrypotter @spencerreidisbootiful @lam-ila @justawilddreamerchild @heavenlyrainyparis @trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room @dracomalfoyreader @spellbinding10 @justawilddreamerchild @queen-of-the-coven @potterpasties @trudabest @theonlystoriesiliketoread @daltonacademia @jemmakates @dannighost @imagines-andshizz @unstableye @hahee154hq @malfoystylinson @idkmanicantenglish @subpar-life​ @myshadowsingeraz​ @isabellamur​ @dracoswhore007​ @subpar-life​ @sxphiemxlfoy​

#draco #draco x hufflepuff!reader #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco x reader #draco x #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #Draco Malfoy x OC #draco malfoy x #draco lucius malfoy #Draco Malfoy #hufflepuff #slytherin x hufflepuff #huffleproud #slytherin #draco redemption #draco malfoy redemption #redeem draco malfoy #redeem slytherin #Harry Potter #harry potter request #Harry Potter rewrite #harry potter fanart #harry potter blog #alternate universe #draco au #draco angst #draco request #draco reader insert

[rinharu-purple]

Testing the Waters: Prank Date

In my post here, I've briefly touched upon this date and it's significance in the development of Gavin and MCs relationship. Which is why here is a quite short analysis on this date.

Before we start some update on my works... I've received all of your asks and read them all, there are so good questions among them that I just can't answer them in a single sentence. But I've also received all of the analysis requests. Thank you all so much for your compliments, comments and trust! I appreciate it dearly in my heart and reading them brightens my day! 💖💖💖

All of them already have a draft, but please have just a little bit of patience until I complete them. One of the asks is including all of the LIs and therefore requires me to go through their dates as to not overlook anything. If there is a committed Victor Stan out there to volunteer, I would appreciate it so much! I'm also working on putting GavinxMC storyline in a chronological order (with a healthy sparkle of Headcanon as to which date might take place during which chapter). In this work, I put everything together alongside their highlights which might also serve as a Date/Main story glossary for the new Gavin stans and the older ones, so beware! 🥰

Without further ado...Spoilers ahead!

First things first... This date takes place right after the Romantic Date and before the "Kiro crisis" Date ;)

During this date Gavin and MC are still in the earlier stage of their relationship. Gavin is surprised to see MC awake at 6 am and MC worries about getting a cold from the wind swh. But Gavin already knows about MCs favorite breakfast spot and MC knows that Gavin can handle spicy food. The date comes to because Gavin takes MC to the shooting spot, which is roughly an hour away (MC wakes up 90 min. earlier to make it in time, but Gavin needs only 30 min. to get her there). So he makes sure they can have breakfast first. Assuring that their date starts early in the morning.

The shooting has a Prank theme to it so everyone on set is in a mischievous mood. For example the director offers MC sandwich biscuits with mustard in them, to which Gavin activates his "protective bf" protocol and intimidates the poor director. Freezing the atmosphere in an instant. BUT! Get this... What he does next earns my respect.

After this the director tries to smoothen the vibe by saying Gavin does that because he cares about MC and then offers him a biscuit (which is a pretty shameless act since everybody knows now that some of them are pranked. One shouldn't ever try to pull a prank on someone with whom they had an unpleasant encounter just a second ago). Gavin knows this so well and yet thanks him, takes the spicy biscuit, eats it as a whole and then says it tastes good. People, this is how you deal with bullies elegantly. Plus the friendly tone he uses shows that he is over with what happened a moment ago and that he isn't important enough to annoy him. Gavin had the chance to just downright rejected him, but instead he saw his challenge, accepted it and robbed him of his joy. Moreover, the director then thought Gavin had a normal biscuit so he tried one lol... What an idiot.

After the break, MC takes Gavin to the backstage room and asks him to wait for her. And than leaves for 2 hours! Once she's back, she finds Gavin sleeping on the couch, inviting her to... check on him?! Anyways Gavin was apperantly having a nightmare, MC tries to touch him to which he reacts with his military reflex by catching her hand mid air all the while having messy hair and then MC comes up with the idea of grooming him a little since she wants to see him bare foreheaded to which he replies he did, in fact, have shorter hair in the military! (we need a karma on this, asap)

Afterwards Gavin took on the role of a coiffeur and braids her hair first but then gives her the look she had while at high school (our birdcop is always nostalgic about high school).

One thing leads to another and Gavin decides to take the advantage of the situation they're in. As I said earlier, this date takes place after Romantic Date, so Gavin has spent a valentine's day with MC and met her family before that, so my guess is that he is already sensing some mushy vibes (Joe's word for romance) on MCs end, that's why he decides to test the waters and see how frequent these vibes go.

The best part is, he doesn't plan on doing anything up to this point, but as he sees her in a low pony, I think it just triggers his inner emotions and he gives in. He can't help but opening up to her about how he wished he could've spent the missing years with her, which flusters her big time. He takes this as athe signal he was waiting for so here he goes.

Gavin's 4 step plan in seeing if MC is willing to kiss him:

Step 1: Call her out on being nervous.

Step 2: Intensify the sexual tension.

Step 3: Answer her questions with questions. (keep the ball in her court)

Step 4: Tilt your head and shorten the distance...

Step 5: Get cockblocked 😂

God knows I die for his sigh by the end. It speaks a thousand words 😆

But Gavin isn't a quitter, so once they're left alone he makes sure he clears the air and explains his intentions as he has her in his arms...

Still keeping the ball on her court though and leaves it to her interpretation as to what he just did was a Prank or not. ;)

Well played Gav, well played. 👏

----—----—-------—

Masterlist

#mlqc #mlqc gavin #mlqc bai qi #mlqc haku #mlqc baek gi #mr love queen's choice #koi to producer #Mr. Love Gavin #Prank date #Kiss interrupted #Young love #early relationship #Analysis #Meta #Mlqc spoilers

[sassooda]

Worlds Away JJK AU / Chapter 6- Sealed

w/c - 3,609

   “Wake up Gojo. We need to talk.” Satoru hears this voice and it’s followed by a sharp kick to the shin. That would’ve hurt.

               Satoru opens his eyes but doesn’t raise his head, he just remains slumped over in this chair that he’s bound to, not looking at any one thing in particular. He doesn’t care to, he just feels so defeated, useless.

               “I met your sweet little girlfriend recently and I must commend you on your choice of woman.” Naoya lingers for effect, “She was delicious.” Satoru’s eyes widen.

               He then snaps his head up bear a sinister glare for Naoya. Unable to speak, unable to otherwise move, unable to break the Zenin’s fucking face in. What the fuck does he mean she was delicious? What is happening out there? He imagines the worst.

               Naoya squats down a few feet in front of Gojo, meeting the glare with a satisfied look. Seeing the all-powerful Silver shaman wrapped up in talismans from mouth down, trapped and at their mercy in this small stone room…it was fucking fantastic. They would never be able to kill or physically hurt the godlike man but they could seal him with curse magic cancelling talisman, which is the plan they executed flawlessly.

               “I can understand now why she is so important to Getou, aside from her breeding possibilities.” Naoya is purposefully exuding a taunting tone. He has always hated Gojo for being the strongest, and effortlessly at that. Naoya also despised his brutality and psychopathic nature, the very thing that gave Gojo the drive to commit atrocities. The Zenin clan was supposed to be on top, like they had been for hundreds of years before. As he is the next head, ensuring his rule to be a dominating and absolute one is his upmost priority. He’ll do anything to obtain that kind of power.

               Gojo’s glare intensifies as he��s forced to listen to Naoya drabble on, thinking of all the ways he was going to tortuously murder this fucking bastard. Him, Getou and Toji. All of them…and anyone else that had a hand in this. He was going to be merciless. ‘These fucking cunts forgot about who I really am apparently and seem to have decided that I’ve gone fucking soft…’.He definitely hasn’t. He’s going to fucking slaughter them one by one…he deemed the first strike to be that of slicing off their eyelids so they can’t turn from the horrors he’ll grant them. He’s going to bathe in their blood, maybe even literally.

What did they do to his Elska? Where is she?

               “You should’ve seen the way she was squirming beneath me, begging me to not stop,” Naoya lies, “I’ve never had a woman take me so well, and that mouth…GOD that mouth Gojo, did it feel that good for you too? …oh and look at this!” He held up the underside of his wrist to Gojo’s face, only leaving inches between the two. Naoya knows he’s heavily exaggerating about the sex but he figured the marks left of his wrist would be enough proof to make it seem believable. He just wants to hurt Gojo

               Satoru winces at the sight, replaying Naoya’s words as he studies the scabbing puncture wounds. ‘Wait, why didn’t she heal them shut afterwards for him though? She always does that for me so I don’t scar.’, he wonders, unable to speak the doubt into Naoya’s childish looking bitch-like face. He wishes he could. ‘Still though, that means he had contact with her and knows about her bite. FUCK.’. He can’t fucking do anything. ‘Why didn’t I ever create a back up plan for this? None of the others may even know what’s going on right now…’, and he has no way of reaching out. ‘God fucking damnit.’.

               “Don’t worry, you’ll be able to see her again soon, we have plans for her. I… have plans for her.” Naoya’s expression is that of a sexual deviant. “Don’t you think she’ll look good in the Zenin blue?” He continues as if he’s just carrying on a normal conversation with an old friend, “Next time I’ll make sure fill her with my seed.”. Naoya seethes to Satoru, meaning every word that he speaks. “She will be bound to me soon enough, carrying my children…”, Naoya tilts is head up in arrogance as he chuckles to the helpless man below.

               Satoru is seeing red. Internally losing his shit.

               “I’ll bring her in here and perhaps even let you watch.” Naoya teases as he stands up, smiling widely down on the silver-haired man, mentally patting himself on the back for being able to inflict this pain on him. He then walks over towards the wall and simulates how he’d fuck her into it. Floating his hands over what would be her waste and throat. Satoru notices that he seems familiar with her build. “Oh Master Naoya, please… yes right there” he imitates in a higher, more feminine voice as he laughs to himself afterwards.

               Satoru is just staring straight ahead, unwilling to watch Naoya’s little performance. He’s thinking about how he’s going insert a hand through the Zenin’s stomach and fucking rip his intestines out and make him wear them like a scarf. Might even strangle him with them too if he’s still alive at that point. ‘Actually, I’ll ensure he’s still alive for that.’.

               “I guess I should stop...” Naoya turns to face the door, less amused now that he’s reminded himself that he didn’t get to fuck her, and begins walking toward it, “There’s no need for me to improv here, it’ll all come to fruition here very soon”, He grabs the handle and spins himself out into the hall in a boisterous manner, his dark blue robes encircling him. “Just get comfortable and relax your majesty.”, his words venomous but tinged with a high mockingly pitch. And with that, he left Satoru alone again with his thoughts.

               Satoru was trying so viciously to move, his brain commanding his limbs to rip apart what bounds him. No luck. Not even a fucking twitch. He throws his head back as far as he can and wants to scream in rage and frustration. A small muffle of a sound is all that he can produce…or maybe he just thinks he did. ‘What the fuck am I going to do? How do I fix this? Does anyone know that I’m even missing?’. He’s supposed to fucking protect her… his love…he’s the fucking strongest…but he’s at his weakest.

               He begins to sweat at the thought of them getting their hands on her, on his Elska. What they would do to her, what they would make her do. The satisfaction they’ll feel inside of her as they tame her, if they can. He knows they’ll fucking try. They’ll force her until she’s willing, or worse… Memories of his own that mirror the situation play before him, but he replaces himself with Naoya and adds Toji and Getou into the picture. He feels like he’s going to vomit. He knows all too well the depths of depravity that can be explored in a situation like that, specifically with her.

               Because he did it too.

               She just doesn’t remember.

               ‘I can’t let this happen…’ he thinks internally as he begins to tear up. ‘Elska…I’m so sorry for all of this.’ He drops his head back down. ‘My love…’

That’s when the door opens again.

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

After the recent reports of the kidnapping gone wrong, embarrassingly wrong, he decided that maybe he should check her out himself. He does not like it when mistakes happen, he does not like looking like a fool and he’ll be damned if that occurs again. He’s figured out a basic but perfect trap for that little bitch and he won’t even have to lift a finger, Naoya is more than willing. He finds that strange but wondered if maybe the little psycho just isn’t used to being around strong women. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to let him have a little fun.

She’s roughly 2 blocks away and is walking with 2 others, younger men. “Interesting…” he says as he brings his left hand to place in a thinking pose under his chin and lays eyes on the boy in the middle. The young man is clearly Sukuna’s vessel, he fits the description of the soft pink hair and red hood on his shaman uniform. Another target they’re aiming for. Maybe he could make their bond work to his advantage. The boy inhabiting the ancient curse seems like a fucking child though, so carefree and weightless in his presentation…the complete opposite of what is Sukuna. How was he able to keep the immense curse suppressed? The other boy, also in shaman wear, he’s never seen before. He is the tallest out of three with messy black hair and carries himself in a more aloof manner. He’s sure he doesn’t recognize the kid but something about him is extremely familiar. “Very interesting…”

He puts himself into position with a paperback novel, sitting on a bench about 60 ft into the park that his scouts told she uses to cross through. Hopefully they split up like reported about half a block from the park, he’d hate to have wasted his time with this. He’s waiting for her to enter and pass him, that’s when he will make his move. “Here kitty, kitty.” He smiles at his own choice of words.

——————————————————————————

               “Listen boys, I appreciate you for being so sweet and trying to cheer me up.” She stopped to turn to Itadori and Megumi before they went their separate ways. These boys are beginner shaman that recently graduated from the privatized JuJutsu Academy where Satoru would teach at…if you can call it teaching…he was just so, well, unorthodox in his methods. She’s known them almost as long as Satoru, they’ve always been around since he was their sensei. She loved the boys very much and has wondered at their growth as fighters, they both have extremely high potential, maybe even to one day be up there with their sensei.

               “but we don’t have to tiptoe around anything alright? It only makes it more awkward when his name is brought up…” She looks down to the left and speaks his name in her mind even though she just avoided saying it out loud.

               ‘Sati…’

               “Elska, I’m sure he’s alright, this is Gojo sensei we’re talking about after all!” Itadori says as he huffs out his chest and places his balled-up fists on his hips. “No one can touch him!”

               “Yea, I know…I hope so…” She releases softly holding back tears. Itadori is trying so hard to help but her insecurities involving the situation begin to surface.

               It’d been 3 months since she last saw Satoru, since she last kissed him, was held by him. Her whole world was flipped upside down after he disappeared and she lost herself underneath all of the turmoil that blanketed her being, suffocating her. There were times where she didn’t even care if she ever fed again, knowing that she could ease out of her sadness if she’d just give up. Other times she was ready to fucking set the world ablaze, destroying anything and anyone that would be in her way until she finds him.

               She wants him to be ok, to be alive. Of course she does he was the love of her fucking life, like a fairytailed knight in shining armor. She just doesn’t know why he would disappear from her if he was though…I mean unless…I guess it’s totally possible he just wanted out. Maybe their life together wasn’t as perfect as she thought. He was always known as huge player before she came into the picture. Did he just want his freedom again?

               “Gojo has been known to disappear every now and then when he needs a break from this life. He usually doesn’t say anything to anyone until he decides he wants to come back. I wouldn’t take it personally Oda, ok?” She remembers the words that Namami, a fellow shaman, flattened her with. She knows he was trying his best to be comforting, he just wasn’t very good at it…at all. It was almost laughable. She thanked him anyway with the sincerest smile she could muster, still stinging from his statement. If that’s the case, then she’s going to be fucking furious with him. Possibly beyond that.

               Megumi picking up on the fact that Itadori’s words had the opposite effect intended, decides to interject and start the goodbyes. “Don’t be sad Elska, when we get back from this mission let’s make a big dinner with everyone back at the academy.” He looks at her with a kind face as he snatches the dense Itadori’s arm to begin to guide him in a different direction than the park she’s about to walk into.

               “I’ll bring the sakeee!!!” shouted Itadori as they began to walk away. All three of them laugh as their paths diverge. ‘That does sound like a good time, what great young men they’re turning out to be’ she allowed a smile to accompany the heartwarming thought.

She’s currently on her way to her new favorite bookstore, Gena’s Collections. She doesn’t know if she was a big reader prior to 3 ½ years ago but she’s loved the sanity it’s helped her keep ever since Satoru disappeared.

‘Sati…’

               She stops for a moment and shakes her head before continuing to walk. She’s always such a downer these days, not meaning to drown those around her in the same emotion as she merely struggles to exist. She feels the worst when she does it to Toji though. After the attack that took place at her apartment months ago, Toji became very protective, almost like a body guard.  She found it uncomforting at first, his constant hovering but she soon began welcoming his company. One day she realized that his presence, just someone being there for her, was the spinal structure she needed while she went through the process of learning how to stand on her own again. To stand without Sati. Really, the only times he wouldn’t be around are when he says he has a mission, like today. He also gave himself to her to feed from, so she does that regularly with him now. There were times when she would struggle to suppress the urge to sleep with him while feeding. Her instincts are wired in a way that yearn for the completion of the ritual.  She knows he notices because he would find ways to make the idea more appealing by tightening his grip on her, breathing into her ear, place kisses on her head, or push his hardened self against her while she’d drink him. He was satisfied with that for a while but one day, his patience ran out.

The first time was tender and caring, probably exactly what she needed to be convinced for it to happen again. The way he caressed her, rubbed her, held her, fucked her… She knew he was being careful, careful with how he inserted himself into her daily routine, her mind, her heart, her body. Even with the pheromones. The highs he would gift her would be fulfilling and help for a while, but her heart would always cry for Satoru afterwards, even harder with guilt and the unknowing. They both were aware of that so she was never sure of what she was to Toji, or what he was to her.

‘Sati…’

               She’s been deep in thought since she entered the park but comes to back to reality and automatically takes in her environment, she has to remain aware. Everything seems normal, just empty. There are usually more people around here at this time of day. She looks up to take a deep breath and remind herself that life is still beautiful, searching for the sun to warm her face. But she feels it getting cooler instead, and fast. She opens her lids.

Did someone just cast a barrier?

               She stands there keeping her eyes to the sky as she watches this translucent brown dome form around the around the park. Who’s the caster? What the fuck do they want? Her body tenses as she mentally prepares for the fight that’s surely about ensue.

               Barriers are exactly what sound like. Not every shaman has the capability to form one of these, but the ones who can use it when they want to fight or do something that would expose the shaman world. The barriers coat whoever is inside allowing them to fight and move freely without worrying about being discovered by non-shaman. If a non-shaman is on the outside of the barrier, it will look like nothing is out of the ordinary at all, they aren’t even able to see the tinted dome it forms.

               Elska drops her purse and kicks it aside not wanting to be restricted by anything, she has no idea who or what she is about to be up against. That’s when suddenly a man appears behind her. She could sense him before she saw him. He’s tall, almost as tall as Satoru but instead has long black hair that he has tied into a loose bun behind his head. His face is so smooth looking with a sharp jawline and dark, dark brown eyes. He’s wearing an all-black suit. He could only be defined by her as devilish. Was it him that casted it? She plants her feet but shifts her weight so that he can move from that spot and dodge an attack if she needs to. She doesn’t trust this handsome stranger, something is very dark about him, regardless of the harmless face he’s giving her.

               “The infamous Elska Oda…I am pleased to make your acquaintance.” He gives a formal bow and reaches to grab her hand. She moves her arm back and away, avoiding his grasp. “My name is Suguru Getou.” He ignores her display of distrust, “It’s a pleasure.”.

               She stares at him for a moment judging him harshly, unable to shake the eerie feeling he exudes. A breeze blows between them as if the universe was trying to draw the line on this fiasco right then and there. That’s when she smells something familiar, something that upon registration faltered her knees, causing her to have to catch herself. Her eyes immediately blur from the intrusion of liquid at this sudden realization and she has to remind herself to breathe.

               She smells Sati.

               Getou observed her reaction once the breeze laced around them. ‘Too fucking easy’ he thought. How did his men have such a hard time with this girl? He scans over her as she’s building her energy up, he’s hardly concerned. She’ll want to hear what he has to say. He closes the gap between them slightly and leans down into her ear.

               “We have your precious Satoru…” He leans back up to take in her reaction but she doesn’t do anything particularly entertaining. She’s still just standing there, staring through him.

               “Did you hear me little one? I sai-“…

He’s doubled over grabbing his gut now. ‘DID SHE JUST FUCKING HIT ME.’ He’s not used to anyone being abhorrently fucking stupid enough to challenge him.

               A second feeling of force connects to the side of his face, cutting his skin open along his cheekbone. She was always better with her kicks.

               “Where the hell is he?! You say you’ve got him?! WHERE THEN?!” Half of her words sound enraged, the other half condescending and irregularly pitched, almost unrecognizable. She feels like she just snapped. Is this man telling the truth? After staring down and waiting for a response that he clearly wasn’t going to give, she brings both of her hands together in front of her and begins to raise them up, planning to collide it down on the back of his neck while he’s kneeling over still.

               Before she could bring her conjoined fists down, he thrusts his hand into her sternum pushing her up off her feet and into the air slightly. He knocked the wind right out of her. She lay there awkwardly on the bench she fell into wheezing and gasping, trying to take in a breath finally being successful after a few heaves. He sits down hard on her legs and crosses his own once he’s seated, ignoring her thrashing next to and beneath him. Leaning back slightly with his arms folded, he turns his upper body towards her. “You’re not very lady like at all” he hisses “You’re actually kind of a bitch”. He purposely expresses his displeasure. Wiping the stinging cut on his face and then looking at the blood on his hand. “You’re going to have to eventually atone for that one.”. He’s irritated that he was made to bleed but also slightly impressed that she was able to hurt him. He would not be underestimating her predictability in the future.

               She sit’s up and begins to demand to know where Satoru is but before she can open her mouth, he motions her to close it again with his hands. “Come back here at midnight. Maybe you’ll see him then.” He stares at her whilst saying it, ending the sentence with a smile. He then turns his head over towards the entrance “Well would you look at that?”

               Her eyes are prompted to look over in the same direction. The fear of it being a friend of his or something growing.

“Toji!” She calls out to him, not realizing that she was able to move now. He was just entering and looking around like he didn’t know where he was going. Was he looking for her?

The pressure on her legs had dissipated and she was able to swing them off of the bench. She quickly stood up and did a full 360, trying to spot the long-haired man that was literally just on top of her. It didn’t make sense, he was nowhere to be seen. He was gone.

Next Chapter (7)>>

Chapter List

#geto suguru #Naoya #naoya zenin #naoya smut #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo smut #jjk au #some vampire like stuff #fushiguro toji #toji smut #jjk x named character #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji fushiguro #jjk x reader #possessive jjk #gojo is a menace #geto smut

[infinites-chaser]

Librarian! PH. 52 MLQC MC / Victor :)

HELLO ANON U WERE ONE OF THE FIRST PEOPLE TO RESPOND TO MY LIBRARIAN ASK GAME I’M SO SORRY IT’S TAKEN SO LONG,,, victor is just. hard to write. aLSO I'm doubly sorry since i’ll be combining this with the Victor ask from @truth-be-told-im-lying ​ hope neither of you mind T-T i don’t think my mind could do two victor ficlets akwlfjsdkls

ANyway I love you both LOTS AND LOTS hopefully this attempt at Victor isn’t extremely out of character;;; it’s a lowkey soulmates AU if that counts for anything :> aND this fic gets the special treatment of an actual Title bc True was wonderful enough to help me by typing Victor as an Enneagram Type One

okaaay and without further ado, 

49, 52 + Victor/MC

‘[He] wakes up in [his] bed, determined to begin again.’- These Ghosts Are Family, Maisy Card. (pg. 49)

‘As [he] pushes through the onlookers to meet [her], he is certain he is the only person moving.’- These Ghosts Are Family, Maisy Card. (pg. 52)

((pronoun changes in both quotes to better fit the ficlet))

spoilers for Victor/MC’s childhood!

spend my whole life searching

Victor doesn’t believe in soulmates. (After half a lifetime of searching turning up nothing, he doesn’t believe in much.)

Once upon a time, he might’ve. (He wanted to). His heart rate doubled and sped up to match hers— a carefree little girl skipping across the road, too far away to hear his nerves cry danger, too caught up in dreams and fantasies to hear his warning shout. Time slowed down so he could save her, and on that afternoon on the crosswalk, drops of rain suspended in the air, he did.

At that age, he hadn’t had the sense to wonder why a young girl like her had been crossing the street without supervision. Why her smiles had come freely, but had always looked a little sad, a little wistful. Why she’d been so eager to accept his baked treats. Why she’d been at the playground without a parent. Why she’d always been alone.

Now, seventeen years later, he wishes he did. Wishes he’d known something as simple as her last name.

He dreams of her. Of finding her again: the girl whose heartbeat matched his. The girl whose smile had slowed down time itself for him, as if short moments with her could’ve each stretched into a gentle eternity. He’d wanted them to. He’d wanted to capture every moment spent with her, to make them last, to savor them, so they’d pass slow and sweet like honey on the tongue.

Time had passed slow when he’d wanted it to. Those sunlit afternoons had been sweet, they’d been happy.

Only, time is a fickle thing. When he takes his eye off it, it races away, too fast for him to keep up.

The kidnapping. The experiments. The torture.

The escape.

She saves him. He’s too slow to save her.

And even if he can stop time, here’s the thing: he can never turn the clock back.

Still, he wakes up. Every morning, he gets out of bed. Gets dressed and goes to work. The world around him moves on, and demands he does, too, even if his heart’s still eleven years old and clutching her motionless body, eleven years old, the only sound in his ears his pounding pulse, the absence of the accompaniment of hers an accusation more painful than any hateful words.

It’s a recurring theme in his life, time. It’s ironic, really, when he thinks about it. That he can stop time without lifting a finger, and yet, when it comes to things he cares about, people he loves most, he’s always eleven years old again, always too late.

(His Evol’s time control, but perhaps, all this time, he hasn’t been controlling time, it’s been controlling him. He’s imprisoned by a single moment, a memory, a regret. A past that can never be undone.)

Whenever he has spare time, he devotes himself to searching. Resigns himself to the fact he’ll probably never find her, if all he has to go off of is a child’s face, once preserved in his memory, now fading. Hair color. Eye color. Age. A name. Nothing more.

The searches turn up nothing. 

He spends late nights in the office to distract himself, builds up a capitalist kingdom of a company, if only to put off for a few hours more the prospect of returning home to face his nightmares alone.

His father praises him for LFG’s growth over dinners filled with awkward silences. The name Victor Li appears more and more often in business newspapers. Investors approach him. He gets interviews. Gets offers for TV appearances, for sponsorships.

He takes them, these material successes. Wonders if any amount of them could ever make up for the failure from his childhood. If they could bring her back. He tells himself if he finds her, when he finds her, when he brings her back, it’ll be to a more perfect world. One in which he’ll never fail her again. It’s a foolish thought, but it keeps him going. With it in mind, he proceeds to work twice as hard.

Souvenir is what saves him. A small allowance, a self-indulgence, a seed of hope planted in what he thinks is his darkest time.

It’s for her, more than any of his frantic searching ever was. A dream, a foolish one, that one day she’ll step through his memories and through the restaurant’s door, that one day they’ll share a pudding together again, their hearts beating as one.

He doesn’t get to open Souvenir often; his job doesn't let him. He made sure of that, long ago. But when he does, after the last customer’s left, and he’s put up the closed sign, he cooks for two.

(The first time, Mr. Mills had taken a single look at his silent, still face, and his expression must've spoken volumes. The older man hadn't said a word, only helped clean the kitchen after, the normally gentle lines around his mouth pulled taut in a worried frown.)

He sets the second place at the table himself: carefully places fork, knife and spoon beside lukewarm appetizers, tucks a napkin under soup bowls going cold. Watches the empty seat and the untouched meal for an eternity before finally eating his own. His technique's impeccable. It has been ever since he'd aced his culinary lessons, since he'd bought out the school. He'd used the finest ingredients. He always does.

The food still crumbles like ash in his mouth. (It always does.)

Mr. Mills will find him there, nursing a glass of wine long into the night. He knows better not to question it, but sometimes he'll pull up a chair, drink a glass, too. talk of everything and nothing, talk of his parents, his sister's family, of times gone by.

Victor will never admit it, but the older man's presence makes those nights less hard. his stories, his memories — they keep the ice in his heart from spreading any further when it feels like nothing else will.

Ten years stretch into thirteen, into fourteen, into fifteen, into a broken clock, time stopped because does the passage of time mean anything if he measures it, measured it in time with her? If she's gone?

The meals shrink. First appetizers vanish, then entrees too, until all that's left are desserts, puddings that he stares at all evening, puddings a girl had loved once, that he can almost imagine her sitting there eating, her noticing him watching her and her answering blush and smile. His smile back.

Almost, because after all these years without her, he can’t quite imagine her face. Not as she would look now. Not even as she was, seventeen years back.

(He dreams and finds he doesn’t remember what her smile looked like, exactly. Doesn’t remember the sound of her heartbeat mingling with the sound of his.

Memory is cruel. Memory is imperfect. No matter if you can stop time, no matter how hard you try to memorize a moment, when you revisit it, it’ll never be the same as when you lived it the first time.)

Then:

The day starts like any other. He wakes up, gets out of bed, gets ready for another day of work, another night of searching. He scrolls emails while waiting for his espresso machine to heat, then puts his tablet aside when the coffee's done. He eats in silence. As always, he's done five minutes before he needs to leave for the company, the perfect amount of time for him to do a last-minute check in the mirror— his tie's straight, his shirt unwrinkled, not a hair on his head out of place. The reflection that stares back at him is unchanging; these days it barely shows even the passage of time.

He sighs. Shakes the thought off like the piece of lint it is on his otherwise immaculate state of being, and heads for the door, the lock automatically clicking behind him at eight o'clock am, exactly on schedule, exactly as planned.

He's about to take a seat in his car when an inexplicable urge to walk to work takes hold of him. He pauses. Calculates and re-calculates the time it would take (fifteen minutes, not accounting for rush hour traffic making crosswalks slow), and he's about to decide it's not worth it, it's a silly thought, but the urge intensifies.

Do it, the eleven-year-old in his heart seems to be telling him. You won't regret it.

He frowns and rubs his forehead— for a moment, he wonders if all his searching, all his foolish hopes are finally getting to his brain.

He decides to take the walk, anyway.

He regrets it, not nine minutes later, when despite the sun's light shining strong through the clouds, a light rain begins to fall.

Worse still, the traffic lights haven't changed once in the past ninety seconds. He won't be late, he'd accounted for this, but he's stuck in a crowd of pedestrians, and their chatter's beginning to grate on his nerves. He's considering calling the mayor about it after exactly one hundred seconds have passed— clearly, the light's broken, this is far too long for commuters to wait— but then, finally the walk sign flicks on.

He's already across the street when it happens:

First, a phone rings.

Then, the loud honking of a car.

Tires screech.

Time slows. Time stops.

He's back on the crosswalk in a matter of heartbeats, the inattentive idiot in his arms (it's a girl, it's always a girl, hair dark, eyes wide, expression shocked).

"You..." She says, blinking up at him with those wide, almost-familiar eyes. Distantly, he registers the echo of a heartbeat overlapping with his.

"Who are you?"

Who are you? His mind asks, but deep in his heart, he already knows the answer. It can't be.

"Evolver?" He says instead, shoving down memories that threaten to surface: another rainy day, another crosswalk, another heart that had seemed matched to his. He tells himself he's being delusional, that he thinks he can hear her heartbeat because she's in his arms, wide-eyed and fragile, her heartrate skittering back and forth like a fool— this isn't like his careful, methodical searching, this is a fluke beyond flukes, it means nothing, it'll lead to nothing in the end.

But she's in his arms, warm and soft against his protective embrace, she's in his arms and it feels so right it's almost painful, his pulse pulled into a panicked pace to match hers.

He sets her down abruptly, as if burned, and turns to go.

"Someone can't come to your rescue every time."

Around them, suspended raindrops begin to fall. The world, resumed. The world, once again predictable and mundane. Except for her.

He knows, without looking back, she's staring after him, her heart, his heart, still racing.

He allows himself a smile.

He allows himself some small sliver of hope.

(His frozen time starts moving again.)

#mlqc #mlqc victor #mlqc fanfic #val writes #hNnghghg this took so Long and writing vic gives me so much stress BUT HOPE Y'ALL ENJOY #u didnt hear it from me but it was actually really interesting to explore his character like this and. i've definitely developed more of an #appreciation :> of sorts #victor is an enneagram one and rly that's all that matters thats all u need to learn from this fic #also sOULmate AUs i love them that's it does this mean i think vic is MC's soulmate;;; maybe in this universe but not generally ailsjkfd #JUST FOR THE RECORD. i am not a vic stan so it must be said #TIL that mr mills does not have a wife/family and that makes me rly sad

[mashi-sims]

6 Popular tropes that fit #Cooliver

1. Friends to Lovers. Duh

This is the most obvious one, and I wanted to start with this one because if Cooper and Oliver ever become canon, this is what their relationship would be.

In my head, Friends to Lovers is always problematic because it’s easy to lose a beautiful friendship to a mediocre romantic relationship, as has happened to many LGBT couples on TV, but if done correctly, it warms my heart and makes sparks of joy fly all around.

The journey of their friendship not only as a partnership but as a mutual beneficence that helps them both grow and develop as their individual selves, helping each other find their own path, confidence in themselves, inspiration and motivation to fulfill their dreams, ultimately becoming better individuals aiming to transform into the best versions of themselves they can be, *voice intensifies* all while being together and offering each other’s company and support, becoming accustomed to being next to one and other and not being able to imagine a life without the other, slowly developing emotional ties that make them consider if a different kind of love exists, and them exploring it and realizing that, in fact, THERE IS. That type of slow build that transforms into a romantic relationship because they both agree they are each other’s most treasured person and they want to stay in each other’s lives forever, that’s some GOOD STUFF.

2. Fake Dating

The reason why I believe a good fake dating au can get so popular, is because it can offer a pretty natural transition between “Not having any kind of feelings”/”Being unaware of their feelings” to “Oh, my gosh I am in love with this person what do I do”, and it can be so heart-wrenching it’s addictive.

In a beautiful world, Oliver is totally in love with Cooper and he just doesn’t know it yet, and there’s where this trope comes in handy.

There’s a number of reasons why two characters may start fake dating; getting someone off their backs, making someone jealous/angry, needing a date for a special occasion, or getting some odd financial benefit from it, if you’re willing to take it as far as getting married and having to pretend to be actually married so nobody know their marriage is a scam.

They agree to start fake dating or to start introducing each other to other people as their boyfriends, because Cooper wants these interested girls (and boys) in his money to go away, or because Oliver is the only single one at his ballet and he doesn’t want to go to after-show celebration alone, and after one or many fake dating moments, they start realizing they don’t need to act or pretend to act a certain way at all, because there’s stuff they’d normally do with or say to each other, or at least the trust or the reliance is already there. 

Think about the inevitable time where they do have to stop acting like fake boyfriends and they start missing it, or when they mid-date realize there’s something real between all that pretending and now they don’t know what to do about it, imagine the conversation they’d have when they realize they can’t go back to being friends anymore.

3. N Things

This one is more like a writing strategy than an actual trope, but it still works. We’ve all read the “4 times they almost kissed, and one time they did” or the “3 times they said I love you to someone else, and one time they said it to each other”

Okay, now hear me out- how about, “3 times Oliver said Cooper wasn’t his boyfriend, and one he didn’t have to”, or “5 times Oliver said he wasn’t gay, and one time he couldn’t”? I’m down for that.

The heart of this trope is the repeatability of a certain joke, a comment or an unfortunate event and that’s obvious it’ll turn itself around, and it’s that one moment that finally comes which makes you want to dance under the rain.

To me, the amount of times Oliver’s had to tell other people that he isn’t gay or that Cooper’s not his bf (Cooper also said it once) is the perfect starter to this “n things” strategy.

Come on, American Housewife! You’re making it too easy for me to expect that one moment when it all turns around!

4. Babysitters

Neither of these boys is ever shown to be a kid-person nor to have a soft spot for babies, or anything like that! Like, at all! Their whole characters are based around the facts that they are both money-driven, superficial, and self-absorbed (although in the process of becoming better than that), and we barely ever get to see them pouring their hearts out or letting their guard down.

Therefore, imagine a day where Oliver is forced to babysit Violet (or another baby if there comes to be another one), and he’d undeniably be annoyed at the situation because this baby/toddler has ruined his plans, but Cooper obviously stays and helps him out because where else would he be?

It’s the times driving them both crazy when they don’t know how to make a baby stop crying, or when they’re deciding who should change the diaper because neither of them wants to; it’s the time when they’re both a mess because some chaos happened with the food or the paint while they were trying to come up with an activity.

Then it’s Oliver slowly coming down with baby fever as he’s trying make them laugh or when he’s walking around the room trying to make them fall asleep, and Cooper is in awe because he had never seen that side of his friend, and he had never expected it to look so damn cute, and Oliver had never expected Cooper to stay with him for a whole day just taking care of a baby.

It’s at the end of the day when they’re tired as hell but they agree that they had fun and that they’re glad they had each other to help out, and although they don’t say it, maybe it wasn’t so bad their original plans didn’t end up working out.

5. Hurt/Comfort

This is not a trope for everyone, you may love it, you may hate it, you may be indifferent, or you may be like me; somewhere in the middle but with some strong opinions. If done right, it can be a beautiful addition to the story of two characters in process of falling in love. If done wrong, it can victimize the characters in unnecessary ways or show them in a light that doesn’t suit them, thus making them feel out of character, which is every true fan’s worst nightmare.

Although, let’s focus on the small things; like characters holding on to their emotions for too long until they really can’t do it anymore, and they need somebody to help them out, even if they resist it, because in the end they’ll acknowledge they’re thankful for having them, and it also makes their relationship inevitably grow and develop, because there’s something really special about having someone you can truly be yourself with and knowing that they’ll stay, and they’ll help you through everything and make you feel like you’re going to be okay, even (and especially) during your worst moments.

(Although really toned down,) we’ve already seen this kind of comfort between the two; like when Cooper found out Oliver lied about his vacations, and he told him he didn’t need to lie to him out of all people, and that he could come on vacation with him whenever he wanted, or when Cooper’s parents ditched him and he confided in Oliver, who believed he had become tired of hanging out with him, and Cooper had to reassure him that wasn’t the case; those were small moments where we got to see them somewhat upset and being comforted by the other, and that’s when it feels like their friendship is strong and real.

The reason why I believe this trope fits them so much is because they are barely shown in a vulnerable state that allows them to have a sad plot where they’d need to be comforted, and it’s during times like these where you can really see their relationship grow.

Also, I want to point out that it’s not about romanticizing or sexualizing sadness, at all! It’s about using these moments to slowly build and give consistency to the relationship- don’t even get me started on how much I hate seeing and reading characters making out after having a breakdown.

6. Mutual Pining

Some people like to suffer, okay? Some of us like a good tragedy, and there’s nothing more tragic than two characters who are deeply in love with each other, but they’ve resigned to keeping it hidden deep down because they’re convinced the other doesn’t feel the same and they don’t want to lose them nor their friendship, even if it means having to live with a painful secret for the rest of their lives.

When you start having feelings for another person, you may be brave enough to let them now or try and see where things go, because you have nothing to lose, right? But what happens when it’s your best friend you have feelings for? There’s a lot there to lose if do things go wrong, and there’s no certainty that they won’t, so you might as well leave things as they are, because nothing would be more painful than to lose the person you love the most for making things weird because they don’t feel the same way...

And it’s completely frustrating to see two characters with the same internal monologue, because you know what IT COULD BE, but THEY don’t know that- and I love it.

There’s a million different ways this trope can play out, and it’s always so interesting to see where things go after both characters have resigned to never let the other one know how they feel, and then we get to see these destructive actions like dating other people because they think their feelings are unrequited, but they have no idea the other is in deep pain because of seeing the person they love with someone else... yes, a good tragedy!

Anyway, thank you for reading this rant and feel free to add to the list or make any of these come to life.

#Cooliver #American Housewife #A little rant I couldn't get out of my head

[jeonsjiddies]

how not to | kth

Summary- Taehyung takes Tannie to the vet and develops a crush on the vet, and proceeds to tell a few white lies to see her again word count- 1.6k pairing- taehyung x reader genre- fluff Warnings- none? a/n: loosely based on How Not To by Dan + Shay, for my beautiful @sugarly-laysa​  ; another one in third person, idk lol

The first time Taehyung saw her, he almost dropped Yeontan, who was the whole reason he’d walked into the vet in the first place. Yeontan had been lying around Taehyung’s apartment, just whining pathetically and refusing to eat or drink. Taehyung had panicked and scooped the small dog into his arms, dashing towards the closest vet. He threw the doors open and anxiously talked to the receptionist, while gingerly stroking Yeontan’s fur to soothe his beloved dog-son.

“Don’t worry Mr. Kim, the doctor will be right out.” the woman smiled reassuringly but Taehyung couldn’t stop pacing around the small lobby.

Then, she walked out of the swinging doors and time stopped. Taehyung swore that the colors around the room dulled in comparison to the way she shined. Light seemed to follow her, like she was an angel and the air around her was her halo. Yeontan wiggled in Taehyung’s loose grip, snapping him back to reality. He tightened his arms around the pup and walked up to the doctor.

“Hello, Mr. Kim! My name is Y/N. Please follow me and I’ll take a look at Yeontan here.” she flashed him the most enchanting smile he’d ever seen.

Momentarily speechless, Taehyung just nodded and quietly followed the unfairly gorgeous veterinarian to an examination room and placed Yeontan on the table, stroking his fur to relax him.

“So, Mr. Kim, what seems to be the problem?” Y/N asked, putting gloves on and gently patting Yeontan’s head.

“He won’t eat or drink and he’s acting very lethargic.” Taehyung explained, “I’m very worried. Tannie’s usually full of energy and always ready for a snack.”

She nodded, furrowing her eyebrows together and gently pushed on Yeontan’s stomach, feeling around for abnormalities. Yeontan let out small whimpers, but didn’t yelp or snip at her. He was the perfect gentleman and Taehyung was a little proud of that. Y/N looked over Yeontan for a bit, doing a few tests and looking in his mouth, checking his temperature, making sure she didn’t miss anything that could be troubling the poor little guy.

“I’d say he ate something he shouldn’t have. I’ll prescribe him some mild pain relief and you can just keep a good eye on him, and come back if anything gets worse, okay?” Y/N instructed him, and Taehyung nodded obediently, his eyes glued to her every movement.

He just couldn’t find it in himself to look away. She handed him the script and pet Yeontan one more time, leaning down to speak to him specifically.

“I hope you feel better, buddy.” she cooed sympathetically.

Yeontan, though he still looked rough, gave her a couple of kisses and leaned into her touch, which she smiled at before scratching behind his ears then standing up.

“Thank you so much, Y/N . Really.” Taehyung bowed a bit, looking up at her and when her eyes met his, he felt shivers run up his spine, which only intensified when she placed a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s my pleasure, Mr. Kim.” she smiled.

“Taehyung. Or Tae. Please.” he returned her smile.

“Tae.” she corrected, his name rolling off her lips like dripping honey.

Instead of responding, Tae sent her another smile before exiting. His heart was thrumming in his chest as he carried Yeontan back to his car, immediately going to fill the prescription for him to clear up his tummy issues as soon as possible.

A week and a half later, Yeontan was back to normal, but Taehyung was not. He could not get Y/N out of his head, every time he closed his eyes he could see the way her eyes sparkled, the way her lips curled up in that sweet smile… he didn’t know how not to think about her. He needed to see her again.

Biting his lip, he glanced at Yeontan and debated his plan. It wasn’t exactly ethical to lie and say that something was wrong with Yeontan when he was fine, but he had no other method of seeing Y/N, seeing as how his social media stalking had come up empty handed. Taehyung scooped Yeontan up in his arms and brought him up to his face.

“Listen buddy. I know you’ve faked sick before so I would stay home… think you can do it again so we can visit that pretty doctor?” Taehyung grinned, “I’ll give you a treat!”

Yeontan wagged his tail and barked excitedly upon hearing one of his favorite words, and Taehyung took that as an agreement and set off for the vet. Entering the building, he felt nervous. He hoped she wouldn’t notice his true intentions for coming in and embarrass him.

“Hello, Mr. Kim.” the receptionist greeted, “Back again?”

“Yes, Tannie seems to not be feeling well again…” he trailed off, avoiding eye contact.

Yeontan, on queue, let out a pitiful whimper.

“I’ve got you checked in, Y/N will be right out to get you.” the receptionist smiled sympathetically.

Taehyung stroked Tannie’s fur in a silent thank you as he waited for the beautiful doctor, and when she finally stepped out, Taehyung felt the air leave his lungs. She was just as beautiful as he remembered. Maybe more.

“Hello Tae, Tannie. Come on back.” she smiled.

Taehyung followed her and set Yeontan on the exam table, shooting the Pomeranian a look, and mouthing “treat” which caused Yeontan to let out another pathetic whimper. Y/N’s gaze snapped to the small dog and she cooed softly in sympathy, doing another checkup. Several minutes went by and Taehyung was getting more nervous, pulling on the collar of his shirt and working up a light sweat.

“I can’t see anything wrong with him… when did this start?” Y/N asked.

“Last night.” Taehyung lied.

“Hm… let me do a few more tests but I think he might just have another tummy ache. He should be fine.” Y/N smiled encouragingly.

Taehyung nodded, watching as she worked on Yeontan, who was an amazingly good sport. He was getting so many treats. Soon, they were on their way, bidding the doctor a goodbye and going home, where Taehyung rewarded Yeontan with treats and bites from his own dinner.

Two months later, Taehyung was embarrassed to admit he still brought Yeontan in under false pretenses sometimes. He didn’t do it often, less than a handful of times really, but he still felt awful that he couldn’t just gain the courage to ask Y/N  out. She was just so beautiful he couldn’t find it in himself to put himself out there.

He walked into the vet's office, and the receptionist wasn’t stationed at her desk. Taehyung frowned in confusion, looking around. He waited a few minutes then decided to go searching for someone. He quietly turned the corner to the examination room, and heard voices coming from it. He peered in without being seen, and he saw Y/N facing someone with a light blush gracing her cheeks.

“I wonder if he’ll show up this week…” Y/N giggled.

“Who?” he heard the voice of the receptionist ask.

“The hot guy with the Pomeranian who comes in like every other week, Taehyung. I haven’t seen him in a few days and I think I’m going through withdrawals.” Y/N joked, placing her arm across her forehead dramatically.

“Oh right!” the receptionist laughed.

“The things I would do to that man…” Y/N  trailed off with a smirk.

The receptionist seemed to choke on something while she laughed and Taehyung felt his chest swell up with pride. She liked him. She liked him! He tried to sneak away unheard but Yeontan decided it was the perfect opportunity to start disobeying his dad, and he let out an excited bark and jumped from Taehyung’s arms, running up to Y/N and wagging his tail, jumping up on her legs to beg for pets.

Y/N’s eyes grew wide as she stared at Taehyung, who stood sheepishly in the doorway after being caught eavesdropping. Both their faces were bright red with embarrassment and the receptionist took the opportunity to slip away unnoticed, while Y/N picked Tannie up and began stroking his fur, avoiding eye contact with Taehyung.

“I, uh… am sorry if you heard anything um… unprofessional…” she coughed.

“Sorry I kind of creeped on your conversation. I waited in the lobby but when no one came I got concerned.” Taehyung explained, then his demeanor changed, taking on a playful one as a smirk graced his lips. “Hot guy with the Pomeranian, huh?”

“Oh god you heard that.” she whined, using her free hand to cover her face.

Taehyung let out a chuckle, stepping closer to her. Her eyes shot up to meet his, and he smiled, biting his lower lip in nervousness.

“I’ll take it as a compliment… if you agree to have dinner with me tonight. Say 6? After you close.” he spoke, his voice coming out more even and sure than he thought it would.

“I’d like that.” she smiled up at him, “But does that mean you’re going to stop pretending Yeontan is sick?”

“You knew?!” Taehyung gasped.

“Tae… Tannie is a great actor, but you’re a terrible liar.” she giggled.

Taehyung hid his face in his hands and laughed, the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked.

“I didn’t want you to stop coming.” she shrugged.

Taehyung smiled at that, and the doorbell chimed, signaling a new customer, so Taehyung decided it was time for him to leave. He took Yeontan from her arms and placed a chaste kiss to her cheek. Her eyes widened but she smiled at him.

“See you tonight?” she asked.

“See you tonight. Maybe we can talk about all those things you’d do to me…” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, a playful smirk on his lips.

“Oh god. Get out.” Y/N laughed, shoving his back to propel him forward.

Taehyung laughed, letting her push him out into the lobby, and spent the remainder of the day thinking about all the possibilities that awaited the two of them. As usual, he couldn’t stop thinking about the beautiful doctor with the heart of gold, he just didn’t know how not to.

#kim taehyung #taehyung #v #bts v #bts #bts fluff #v fluff #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung fluff #tae fluff #yeontan #tannie