#but ill probably allow a week for people to wrap it up

[wedontdeservethestars]

What about Johnny Cage x Ada Wong type of reader?

Oohh this is a cool concept!! I kind of took her mercenary work and general stoicism into account here, it turned into an enemies to lovers type deal (which. FAVORITE trope. God.)

Content: gn!reader, mentions of alcohol and getting drunk, enemies to lovers

(Link to AO3 version here!)

How your phone number kept getting leaked, you had no idea. You changed it frequently enough that you rarely had constants in your life when it came to other people. Going into it, you knew that mercenary work didn’t allow for the most sociable life. But that was fine. You were a loner. You thrived on your own, and you liked it that way. It was much easier to watch your back when there weren’t loved ones standing behind you.

But here you were, staring at your fifth burner phone of the year, with a notification from a number that read as unknown but you had memorized by now. You didn’t even need a name to put to the text. It was too obvious: the all-lowercase, horrendous grammar, and overuse of the sunglasses emoji were enough of a calling card.

Johnny Cage.

Asking for a date.

Again.

You and Johnny had the unfortunate circumstance of meeting about a year or two ago when you were both unexpectedly wrapped up in saving Earthrealm. You saw him as a nuisance, someone who couldn’t take anything seriously even when lives were on the line. The more annoying part was that you were proven correct too many times over the course of those several days together. And yet, Johnny hung around you like a lost puppy, constantly trying to impress you with jokes or feats of strength or his fabulous wealth at home. None of it interested you. It only made him try harder. 

Then, the aforementioned texts started to roll in when you two were physically apart. That plus the constant movie trailers and advertisements with his face plastered all over them made you sick to your stomach. As an overplayed TV commercial for an action figure based on his likeness cruelly reminded you at least once a day: “You can’t escape the Cage!”

And yet, though the easy option to block him remained in the back of your mind, you never did. You found it much more cathartic to answer with a sarcastic comment or an insult, even though you knew all it did was throw fuel on the fire.

[heyyy their dollface😘😎😎😎]

[What do you want this time, Cage.] After you sent the message, you sighed and set your phone down on the table. You stretched in your living room, taking in the muffled silence of the city, punctuated by voices through the walls of your apartment and engines on the streets below. Your phone’s buzz added to the mix. You groaned, as if you had expecting anything else but for him to answer right away.

[welllll im in town]

[ur town]

[like right now]

[drinks?😎]

Your brow furrowed. You tried to recall when you told him where you were staying, but it occurred to you that if Johnny could track your cell phones, he was probably paying some dick to give out information on your whereabouts, too. 

[How stalkerish of you. Charming.]

[nahhh nah not stalkerish!!]

[just wanna see u again. too much to ask?]

[Pretty much, yeah.]

[cmon. pls? ill pay!]

You gave a strenuous sigh and looked around at the rest of your apartment. It was silent, mostly bare. You had never bothered to decorate. For once, and only for a moment, the usually comforting depersonalization of it all felt lonely. You weighed your options. At least if you went out, it would be something different. You hadn’t gotten a hit in weeks and the static nature of sitting at home and going out only for groceries was taking its toll. Already regretting it before you pressed a single key on the screen, you answered. 

[Fine. Where?]

[noonans bar?]

[How do you even know about that place?]

[not my first time around the block, sweetie. filmed once or twice here before n found out pretty quick where the best drinks were]

[For once, you’re not wrong. I’ll be there at 8. If you’re even 10 minutes late I’m leaving.]

[u drive a hard bargain. luv it😘 ill see u soon!]

[You’re so annoying.]

[😎]

The local bar was, as usual, loud and full of too many people. It made you nervous to be around so many at once. The only saving graces were the fact that you were able to snag a booth in the corner, where no one could sneak up on you, and the drinks. Johnny was, unfortunately, right for once. They really were the best in the city.

You were already sipping on a Rum and Coke, something light that gave you enough buzz so that you weren’t completely miserable but kept you sober enough to stay alert. Not that you were expecting a fight or anything, but it was a habit you’d gotten too used to. Years in your profession had made you strong and confident in your abilities, but had also made you quite antisocial. It was already hard to trust strangers when you were younger and inexperienced. Now, it was nearly impossible. 

And then, of course, was Johnny. You watched as he entered the bar, already grinning like an idiot and giving quick greetings to anyone he passed. He even scrawled a few autographs on some napkins to excited patrons as he made his way over to you. That was something else that you hated about Johnny. Just the act of being seen with him immediately called attention to yourself. Usually, that was something you couldn’t afford. But you had already agreed to this whole thing, and now he was sitting across from you in the booth, no doubt drawing stares and chatter from some of the people around you. 

Johnny ignored them all in favor of you, though. He took off his sunglasses (because of course he still wore them at night) and flashed you a grin. 

“Wow. Hi. You look great.”

“Johnny,” you mumbled in acknowledgement. You lifted your glass and took a long sip before continuing. “Started a tab already.”

“Right on,” he nodded, unbothered by your flippancy. His eyes flicked down to your glass. “Can I have a taste?”

“Do you even know what it is?” you asked, but you decided you could part with a sip and held it towards him. 

“Nope.” Johnny grinned and tried some of it. When he pulled away, he seemed surprised. “What, are you a lightweight?”

You scoffed. “Hardly. I just don’t wanna get wasted and have to rely on you to drag me home.”

“Suuure.” You reached for the glass, but Johnny managed in one last sip before handing it over again. “Heh. It’s like we just kissed.”

“How old are you?” you grumbled. “Twelve?”

“Only in dog years.”

Before you could point out the inaccuracies of that analogy, Johnny was already talking again. 

“Noticed you got all dressed up for me.”

You looked down at your jacket, hoodie, and jeans. Your sense of style wasn’t anything to gawk at. That was the point. When you met Johnny’s eyes again, you saw that his face was riddled with sarcasm.

“You should feel lucky I even agreed to all this.” You folded your arms. “I should just get up and go home now, in fact.”

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry, doll,” he chuckled. “No hard feelings. I promise. I’m just givin’ you a hard time is all.”

“I’ll show you a hard time,” you muttered as he stood to order a drink.

“I heard that!” he laughed over his shoulder. You glared at him as he leaned against the counter, joking with the bartender about something or other. His laugh annoyed you. His hair annoyed you. His brash sense of style annoyed you. His ass annoyed you, too. Stop staring at his ass. You almost decided to get up and leave while he was distracted, but even if it was Johnny, you couldn’t bring yourself to be that mean. After all, you had agreed to this. Might as well see it through. 

“So?” Johnny asked when he came back with a tall mug of a draft beer. He’d gotten you one, too. You weren’t much for beer, but hey: he was paying. “What’ve you been up to? Been a while since I’ve seen ya.”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

Johnny laughed. It wasn’t a joke. 

“Alright, alright. We can just talk about me if you want. Trust me–no issues with that.” He gave you a wink that made you sick to your stomach. Then, he started on a tangent about all the movie work he’d done over the past couple of years. You’d heard of most of the projects from ads, but you let him talk anyways, half-hoping he’d run out of steam eventually. You drank your beer, not relishing in the taste but certainly relishing in the way it made you a little less agitated. Soon, Johnny’s words weren’t even entirely annoying. Sometimes they were even interesting. Not enough to ask any questions about the ins and outs of a Hollywood stunt star, but you were no longer pouting into your glass. 

Johnny kept talking. You kept drinking. And then, the inevitable happened. You were drunk. You could tell because the small part of you that was still aware of the world in a more sober-fashion knew he was still talking, but you couldn’t for the life of you actually focus on what he was saying. You’d pick up a sentence or two and then immediately forget about it. You were too distracted by the little details: the way he wet his pink lips after a sip of beer, the warm color of his eyes, his strangely pretty and probably–no, definitely manicured nails. Johnny was a looker. You weren’t one to deny it, but you weren’t happy about it either. In fact, the more you thought about it, the more you looped back around to being irritated with him. How come he had to make you feel this way? You, out of all people, who couldn’t afford to have close relationships? Who couldn’t even stand him in the first place, and yet hesitated to cut contact with him every time you got a text? Who thought about him late at night, alone in bed, and way more often than you wanted to admit?

It was all his fault, you decided. Of course it was. Johnny was messing you all up. You never felt like this, like a lovesick puppy. You frowned, your hazy focus settling on his mouth. You saw Johnny frown, too. It sounded like he was saying your name, and you were sure he was, but you didn’t really care. He snapped his fingers near your ear and it almost brought you back. You leaned in, raising one of your hands. You were gonna give it to him, you decided, show him what for in return for making you feel so stupid and weak and so utterly enamored. But your hand landed a lot more softly on his cheek than you initially meant it to, and instead of telling him off your lips were suddenly busy making love to his. 

For once, Johnny didn’t seem to know how to respond. His usual suave self was broken. All he was able to do was sit there, frozen, eyes wide, as you finally did what you thought about doing many times before. 

Once you were satisfied, you pulled away with a slow breath. Johnny was blushing. Actually blushing, and not the fake “aw, shucks” kind of blush you’d seen him pull before. This was real. You’d caught him off-guard. You’d destroyed him.

A small smirk found its way onto your lips and you distracted them by finishing off your drink. When you were done, you wiped your mouth on your sleeve and muttered, “You’re stupid.”

“What?” Johnny seemed to genuinely not have heard you, still completely lost in his own world. 

“Never mind,” you sighed. “That was…ugh. Whatever. Sorry.”

“Sorry?” He looked even more surprised. “What, like you didn’t mean to kiss me?”

“No. But like–” You struggled for a moment. Now you were getting flustered. “I didn’t want to. I just–I don’t know. I don’t know. It just happened, okay?”

“It absolutely did just happen.” Johnny seemed to be falling back into his nature, now that you were, too. “D’you want it to just happen again?”

“No,” you muttered quickly. But you leaned in again, still staring at him. His hand landed on your neck. It was surprisingly warm. “Maybe.”

“That’s what I thought,” he grinned, and suddenly he was kissing you again. It felt good, but what was even worse was that it felt right. Fulfilling, almost. Like this is what had been missing in your life. 

You wanted to beat yourself up just for even thinking that. 

After the few sloppy kisses were over, you started packing your things. You knew that if you stayed around him any longer, you were gonna say something you regretted.

“Hey, hey, where’s the fire?” Johnny murmured, still very much in the slow romantic mood that you were desperately trying to pull yourself out of. 

“I need to go,” you huffed, standing from the table. The room spun. Johnny took note of the way you wobbled and stood up beside you. 

“Hey.” He steadied your shoulders and scanned your face. You furrowed your brow, trying to look intimidating. Based on his expression, it wasn’t working. “You’re drunk.”

“Nice work, genius.” 

Johnny’s face slowly fell as he looked at you. A short sigh huffed from his nose. “...We wouldn’t work. Would we?”

You shrugged, both because you knew the answer and you wanted to pretend you didn’t. Johnny nodded. You had never seen him so serious before, nor so sad. It made you wanna throw up. Or maybe it was just the booze and dizziness.

“Let me at least get you home safe.” He started walking you towards the door. It was a slow process, and with his big arms wrapped around your shoulders, you were glad about that. Outside the bar, it was starting to rain, the tiny drops coming down in waves of mist. Johnny cursed under his breath and pulled your hood up for you. As he did so, you caught a glimpse of his face again, kind and doe-eyed and so goddamn sad. Your own lips tugged down in a frown. You looked away as you spoke again.

“We could try.”

“Huh?”

“We could try,” you repeated louder, trying not to stumble. You had the safety net of drink to blame all of this on if you felt differently in the morning. But somehow, you knew you wouldn’t. You could feel Johnny staring at you before the two of you started to walk down the street again. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

#if anyone got the reference to noonans bar...teehee #wedontdeservethefics #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #mortal kombat #mk #anon #asks #enemies to lovers #cw: alcohol

[mimble-sparklepudding]

Somehow further Anagram Silliness.

Having had a somewhat silly sort of week, with breaking various sorts of bad news to various people, some of them very small, I find myself in need of further ridiculous distraction.

So, in another episode of the series for which nobody asked, here are some further anagrammatical adventures.

Reika Tsukihana of @reikatsukihana is an anagram of "Hark, I Ask Auntie", which possibly reflects some close family bonds. More concerning is "I Sneak Haiku Art", which suggests Reika is involved in some shady Hingan poetry smuggling operations. Really very worrying is "Kink Hiatus Area", which is probably something provided at certain RP venues for people to take an occasional break, but not the sort of place that Reika would frequent.

Li'daen Hena of @ae-fond-seeker is an anagram of "Linen Ahead", which suggests she's been working on her weaving skills. But my absolute favourite would have to be "An Ideal Hen", although I suspect Li'daen would not be impressed at the title.

Nomin Tal Kheeriin of @paintedscales reveals a wish that we should "Rethink Minion Ale", which I think is a reasonable response to excessive sponsored promotions. However, as befits her archery skills, she does also intend to "Hone Interlink Aim".

Resi Aria of @elfie-kitten informs us of her capacity to magically raise a breeze with "I, A Raiser". And then goes onto demonstrate it with the command "Arise Air".

Baron Silvaineaux de Rosaire of @houserosaire will not allow his military subordinates to gainsay his strategies - "Auxiliaries Bar No Endeavours". However he has also forbidden them from prettifying aquatic mammals with jewellery - "Auxiliaries Adorn No Beavers" - which the beavers probably appreciated.

Finally, Stefan Delvanguard of @cadrenebula has learned that wrapping up warm is useful in colder climates - "Fur Lends Advantage". Despite his scholarly appearance, clearly Stefan isn't afraid to complain if he feels ill-treated and often "Adds A Vengeful Rant". Sometimes he feels a bit unhappy with how things have gone, seeing them as simultaneously stressful and dull - "An Eventful Sad Drag" one might say. But most cryptic of all, we must know that "Fate Lends Vanguard"... Make of that what you will.

I should probably stop now. Sorry for the silliness!

#ffxiv silliness #ffxiv anagrams #ffxiv ocs #mimble nonsense #ffxiv oc #final fantasy xiv #ff14 #ffxiv #ff14 ffxiv

[i-am-bitterly-jittery]

Day 6: Learning To Dance

For @moxiety-week

Word Count: 1289

Rating: Gen

Pairing: Moxiety 💙💜 background Roceit

Warnings: none

~~~START~~~

“I don’t think I’m supposed to be here,” Patton whispered as he marveled at the high, vaulted ceilings of the Royal Ballroom. 

Virgil glanced around too, though not nearly as impressed as Patton was. “It’s prettier when there’s a party.” 

“You hate parties,” Patton chuckled. 

“Yeah, but before all the people get here, and the decorations are up, and the musicians are setting up on stage… you’d love it.” 

“I love it now!” 

Virgil smiled as he watched Patton explore the large room. It was dark, but the enormous windows taking up the entire south wall allowed the full moon to illuminate the space just enough to see with. 

Virgil had been the Royal Tailor’s son back in Mentiroso, but as the only other child in the castle close to the King’s youngest son’s — Prince Janus — age, he’d received a Royal education. 

It wasn’t that he was the Prince’s friend, but rather that the only way to trick Prince Janus into focusing on his studies was if there was some sort of competition to beat. If Virgil took the same lessons as Janus, then he would have someone to be better than — to put it another way, if Janus had failed his studies, then there would be some poor, servant-class boy who had done better than him. 

Virgil was the Prince’s rival. 

As they grew older, Virgil was assigned the role of Prince Janus’s advisor — or to put it more accurately, his manservant. When Prince Janus was sent off to marry Prince Roman Sanders of Gemelo, Virgil was sent with him. 

That’s where he met Patton. 

Patton worked as a kitchenhand in the Sanderses’ castle. It was his dream to be the head chef one day, but for now he mostly did prep work. 

As Janus’s Royal Advisor, Virgil’s role and status in the castle was vague and ill-defined, which allowed him quite a bit of freedom, actually. The thought that Virgil might be unimportant kept people from questioning why he was doing seemingly demeaning tasks — tasks such as clearing dirty dishes from the dining hall so that he might run into the cute kitchenhand as he brought the dishes to the scullery maids. Then again, the thought that Virgil might be Important™ kept people from questioning him when he went places that were restricted — places such as the Royal Ballroom in the middle of the night with said cute kitchenhand. 

“I wish I was important,” Patton mused wistfully. “I’d learn to dance, and I’d attend big fancy parties with princes and dukes and such, and I would dance the whole night away.” 

“Well, I’m not important, and I can’t get you into a big party, but I can teach you to dance,” Virgil offered. 

“Really?” Patton gasped. 

Virgil shrugged, hoping the moonlight wasn’t bright enough for Patton to see his blush. “Sure, I was taught by some of the best dance instructors in Mentiroso, some of it probably stuck.” 

“I would love that!” 

“Okay, so…” Virgil paused as he thought of the best way to start; Patton smiled encouragingly. “Let’s start with the basic waltz.” 

He stepped closer to Patton and took his right hand in his left and wrapped his own right arm around Patton’s waist. This position put him really close to Patton’s face, but he was trying not to think about it. 

“Now you put your left hand on my shoulder,” he instructed. “A waltz is done in three-three time, so the steps will be one, two, three, one, two, three. Does that make sense?” 

“Maybe?” Patton answered, a confused wrinkle appearing on his forehead. “Keep going, maybe it’ll make more sense later.” 

“Okay, so your first step will be to step back with your right foot. Your second step will be to bring your left foot back and to the side, so it’s parallel to your right foot, but one step to the left. Your third step will be to bring your right foot over to meet your left foot, so you’ll be standing the same way you are now, except back and to the left. Each step would happen on the beat of a song. Is it making more sense?” 

“So it’s back, left, together?” Patton asked. Virgil nodded. “And then what are you doing?” 

“I’ll be moving the same way, except I’ll be making the opposite moves so that we stay together, so I’ll be going forward, right, together. Do you want to try it?” 

“Yes, let’s.” 

“Okay, back,” Virgil instructed. 

Patton stepped back with his right foot like he was supposed to, but he didn’t quite step back far enough, and Virgil, who’d tried to take a whole step forward, stepped on his foot. 

“Sorry!” Patton apologized. 

“That’s okay,” Virgil assured him. “Take a full step back, there’s nothing behind you, you’ll be alright. Now, back.” 

This next try went much better as Patton and Virgil took nearly equal steps. 

“Left. Together.” 

“I did it!” Patton cheered. 

“You did,” Virgil smiled. “Now let’s see if we can do a few in a row. Back, left, together. Back, left, together. One, two, three. One, two, three.” 

The pair made their way across the floor with minimal stumbling. It took Patton a few repetitions to stop staring at his feet, but once he got it, it was much easier to keep his eyes on Virgil. 

“Okay,” Virgil decided once they started approaching the wall. “Now let’s learn how to go the other way. Now our steps are going to be reversed, so you’ll be going forward, right, together, and I’ll be going back, left, together, okay? And forward, right, together. Forward, right, together.” 

This direction had a few more hiccups as Patton occasionally stepped with the wrong foot, but eventually he got the hang of this direction as well. 

“Now we’ll put them together into a box step. So that’ll be back, left, together, forward, right, together, and then we should end up right back here.” 

“I’m gonna mess up a lot,” Patton frowned. 

“That’s alright, we’ll go slow. Back, left, together…” 

There were a lot of false starts, and they often failed to take equal steps both ways to end in the same spot, but eventually Virgil was able to transition from counting the steps to humming a waltz song. 

As the song Virgil was humming came to an end, the two were left standing in the middle of the ballroom, holding each other close. With the lesson over, there was nothing to distract Virgil from the fact that Patton was right there. 

“You’re a really good teacher,” Patton whispered, as though the quiet of the ballroom was something to be revered and preserved. 

“Thanks,” Virgil whispered back. 

Neither of them moved, each just staring at the other. Slowly, Patton pressed up on his toes to bring himself closer to Virgil’s height, and Virgil found himself drifting downwards to meet him. 

He wasn’t sure who initiated the kiss, all he knew was that Patton’s — soft, warm — lips were moving against his own, and he was responding in kind. After a minute, Patton pulled back. 

“I have to get to bed,” he whispered. “But this was really nice.” 

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed, somewhat dumbly. 

“I hope we can do it again sometime,” Patton smiled, looking the slightest bit smug. 

“Yeah,” Virgil said again, his brain struggling to form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences. 

Patton leaned up to press one last kiss to Virgil’s lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Virgil.” 

“Yeah.” 

Virgil watched as Patton walked out of the ballroom; he stopped at the door and turned to give Virgil a little wave. Virgil waved back, and Patton left. 

Tonight was definitely worth all the knowing smirks Janus would be sending him the next day. 

~~~END~~~

I hope you all liked my extremely creative names for kingdoms (Janus is from “liar” and Roman is from “twin”)

General taglist:

@royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple @arsonic-knight @misunderstood-shadowling

#Moxiety week 2022 #Moxiety week #moxiety #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #roceit #sanders sides #ts sanders sides #thursday writes #my writing #sanders sides fanfiction

[nebulablakemurphy]

All For You (Pt. 7)

Summary: Elliot and Jules’ baby shower attracts some unlikely guests. Companion series to Because Of You & Before You.

Warning: this is a mature series that includes mentions of drug use/overdose, mental illness, explicit language and mentions of sex.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

They knew it’d be good, the first time they were all ‘together, together.’ Healing what was broken, solidifying the bonds that have been strained for so long. Elliot’s neighbors definitely got an earful.

After that things get better.

Rue finally drags Elliot down to an NA meeting. He doesn’t know if it’ll work for him, but Rue insists they helped save her life. Turns out it’s not all bullshit. Wanting to be sober helps too. Y/N and Jules entertain themselves while they’re gone.

Whatever worries the four of them had about the logistics of all this seem silly now. The idea that this would someday end also felt impossible.

The longer they stayed there, hole up in Elliot’s apartment, the less desire anyone had to leave. Like they might all just stay crammed into one tiny bed for the rest of their lives.

———————————————————————

Y/N’s belly is growing by the day. A happy, healthy baby kicking away inside. Jules feels the first one, entirely by coincidence. Or maybe it was the sound of her voice that sent a tiny foot soaring into her palm. Jules’ smile is brighter than the sun.

The baby won’t move for Elliot, which becomes a running joke. Baby Vaughn-Collins already picked a favorite before he or she was even born. Jules and Elliot decide not to find out the sex until birth, but they all have predictions.

Y/N is thirty-four weeks along when the nursery is finally ready. She and Rue are invited over to see it. Cream colored walls, with soft gender neutral pastels, turn their former guest room into a rainforest themed oasis for their bundle of joy.

“It’s beautiful,” Rue tells them, running her finger tips over the soft sheets inside the crib.

Jules smiles, “I still can’t believe it.”

Elliot is unusually quiet. Y/N pulls him aside, into the hallway.

“Cold feet?”

“Nah. It’s just all getting real, you know? Filling out all that paperwork-”

“Did you change your mind?” Y/N asks, even though it’s too late to really change his mind.

“This was a terrible idea and I’m so sorry.”

“Elliot, what?”

“When this is over you’re gonna understand.” He runs a hand over his face. “You’re gonna be happy for me and Jules. You’re gonna think that everything is the way it’s supposed to be and all is right with the world. Your life will go on, you’ll watch them grow up with the best parents any kid could ask for.

You’ll come to their birthday parties, help with their homework, and maybe even coach their soccer team. You’ll worry when they’re sick. They’ll love you and you’ll love them. Most times it’ll make you happy-”

“Elliot stop, it’s ok.” Y/N cuts him off. “It’ll be ok, we’ll figure it out. Maybe sometimes I’ll be sad. Like when I leave the hospital without a baby for the first time. Or the first few weeks when I’m all swollen and in pain, I’ll probably cry myself to sleep-”

Elliot wraps her up in his arms. “Come stay with us. Or we’ll stay with you guys. Whatever is better for you and Rue and the kids, but please don’t fucking do that.”

“No, that’s part of it.” Y/N murmurs against his neck. “Part of letting go, we have to allow that separation. You have to let yourself feel it.”

“Did your therapist tell you to do that?” Elliot draws back slightly to look at her. “He’s fucking fired.”

“You can’t fire my therapist, Elliot.” Y/N laughs, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Bullshit,” he snaps. “I’m glad you did. Rather than having to find out later. Does Rue know?”

“Yeah. She’ll be with me.” Rue knows everything.

“And I don’t get the option to be with you?” That’s the rub isn’t it? She’s his once removed. Not his wife, not the mother of his children, not his anything.

“We can discuss it.” Y/N agrees. “All four of us, there are four people in this. Not just me and you.”

Elliot nods, “fine, yeah.”

“I love you and I’m glad we had this talk.” God, that feels weird. It’s good to have discussions instead of just doing things and watching them blow up in their faces. That’s part of finding a better thing.

“I just love you.”

“I know.” That’s why they fight. Why they always have and why they always will.

“I don’t want you to feel alone in this. Or like you only have Rue. You have me and Jules.”

Maybe they could all stay together…just for a little while.

———————————————————————

Y/N is thirty-nine weeks and one day pregnant at Jules and Elliot’s baby shower. The timing is slightly precarious because the date kept getting moved around. No sign of baby yet, just Braxton hicks contractions that wake Y/N from a dead sleep.

Rue’s been amazing through the whole thing, she wakes with Y/N. Rubbing her back, whispering soothing words, that she’s safe and loved. That’s she’s ok and this won’t last forever.

The baby shower is beautiful, small and intimate, at Elliot and Jules�� house. Their friends and family are very accepting of their situation. Even though not everyone fully understands it. Like Fez, for example, who’s just arriving with a giant box.

He’s been happy in his new life. Without the drugs or the dealing or…Ash. He has Lexi and their children to ground him. Keep him motivated. Somehow time marches on.

“Jules?” Someone taps Y/N on the shoulder.

“Uh, no.” Y/N smiles, turning to face them. It’s not anyone she’s seen before, but the woman reminds her of someone she knows very well. “I’m just…incubating. Jules is around here somewhere.” Y/N looks to the long white table, adorned with mint green ribbons, where Jules was just a minute ago.

“How do you know Elliot?”

“He’s my friend.” Y/N tells her, feeling Cameron tug at her hand.

“Mommy, can I have some more snacks?”

“Yeah, baby. Go ahead.” Y/N ruffles his curls before he rips back across the room.

“Is he yours?” She knows. Cameron looks just like him.

“Yes.” Y/N clears her throat, growing more uncomfortable by the second. “So, how do you know Elliot?”

“I’m his mother.”

His mother. Y/N’s heart clenches. Elliot has only seen his mother a handful of times since he went to live with this aunt and cousin. If they’re on speaking terms, he hasn’t mentioned it.

Y/N isn’t sure what to do and she can’t see Elliot among the crowd anywhere. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Will you excuse me for a moment?” It’s rude, Y/N knows it is. But this feels wrong, Elliot or Jules should be here. Not her, it isn’t her place.

“Of course.” The woman smiles softly.

Y/N dashes down the hall, and up the stairs to the second floor bathroom. She jiggles the handle only to find it locked. Come on. She needs to pee and have a breakdown. Y/N doesn’t knock, taking a seat on Elliot and Jules’ bed and pulling out her cell phone to text Rue while she waits.

‘Hiding in the bedroom. Someone’s in the bathroom and I really have to go. I might jump out the window and climb onto the top of the garage, then use the trash cans to get down, so I can leave without anyone seeing me. Do you think I’ll make it?’

Rue’s response comes a few seconds later. ‘No, I do not think your pregnant ass will make it. What happened?’

‘Elliot’s mom is here.’

‘I just ran into her and Jules’ mom.’

‘Why is she here?’

‘I don’t know. I didn’t send the invites, but Jules and Elliot are M.I.A.’

Y/N sighs. ‘I’m gonna knock and see who’s in the bathroom.’

‘You prepared an escape plan without knocking?’

‘Uh, yeah. Updates to follow.’

‘At the edge of my seat.’

Y/N can feel Rue shaking her head.

Knock, knock.

“There’s a bathroom downstairs.” A voice replies from inside.

“Elliot?”

“Y/N?” The door creaks open.

Not just Elliot, but Jules. “You guys having a quickie? Elliot you know your mom’s here, right?”

“I didn’t think she’d actually show.” He admits, she never has before. “You left Rue alone with her?”

“Rue’s been warned, Fez and Lexi are down there. They’ll man the fort. She was more interested in Cameron though. Good luck explaining that.”

“Shit.”

Jules lets out a watery laugh and Y/N gets a good look at her as she steps onto the tile floor. Elliot moving to lock the door behind Y/N.

The blonde’s eyes are red and puffy, she’s been crying. Seated on the lid of toilet seat.

“Jules what happened?” Y/N closes the distance between them, crouching downs between Jules’ knees so they’re at eye level.

“My mom.”

“What did she do?”

“Nothing.” Jules looks away, swiping the back of her hand over her cupid’s bow. “She was actually really nice.”

“Why are you crying?” Y/N pushes a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

“Because…like,” Jules takes a deep breath, “what if I mess up?”

“With the baby?”

“Yeah? What if I mess them up? I can’t do this. Elliot can do this, I’m not ready. And he waited for so long for me to like catch up.” She looks to her husband in defeat. Clearly it’s not his first time hearing this. “But I can’t because I’m so fucked up because of what she-”

“I know what she did, Jules.” Y/N whispers. “But you are not gonna do that.”

“How do you know?”

Y/N takes Jules hand softly, placing it on her belly between them. “I know you. I know how much you want this and I know you’re scared. I know why you’re scared. Motherhood is scary, you love your baby so much. You’ll worry about them and you’ll mess up sometimes, everyone does. But you’ll keep learning and trying and you will be an amazing mom.”

“I want to be.”

“We’re in this together.” Y/N reminds her. “Me and Rue will help, whatever you need. If you’re feeling overwhelmed or tired or whatever, we’ve got you. Elliot’s got you.”

“I don’t want to be a burden. I know you’ve got your own stuff going on with the Rue and the kids and like…healing after the baby.”

“This relationship is not a burden to me.” Y/N says, patiently. “You are not a burden, Jules. I love you so much. I love being with you. I love spending time with you. You make me so happy.”

“No,” Jules argues, “I love you. You make me happy.”

“Are you really gonna argue about a mutual feeling?” Elliot chimes in.

“Yeah.” Y/N cocks her head to the side. “I felt it first.”

“I felt it stronger though.”

“Unfuckingbelievable.” Elliot chuckles.

Y/N used to feel bad for him, being surrounded by all of them, all of the time. She doesn’t anymore, he clearly enjoys it.

“Be with me after.” Jules says, kissing Y/N’s hands and then her belly.

It’s still under review, what would happen when the baby came. If they were all staying together, it would have to be at Y/N and Rue’s house.

Jules and Elliot would bring over the bassinet and set up shop. They would bond with their baby and Y/N and Rue would keep their schedules. Sawyer and Cameron would have a blast with everyone under one roof. Y/N would have support if and when she needed it. They would all have extra support and the pitch did come with a lot of perks.

“Are you sure?” Y/N asks anyway.

“Be with me, please?” Jules whispers.

Y/N takes a deep breath, “ok.” She still has to pee though.

Elliot and Jules excuse themselves, waiting for her to finish. The plan was to go back to the party together. But-

“Guys?” Y/N calls, from inside the bathroom.

“Yeah?”

“Get Rue.”

“What’s wrong?” Jules wonders, rattling the doorknob.

“My water just broke.”

Part 8

#rue bennett imagine #elliot euphoria #jules vaughn imagine #before you #because of you #all for you #rue bennett #euphoria #jules vaughn x y/n #jules vaughn x you #elliot x y/n #elliot x you #elliot imagine #rue bennett fanfic #rue bennett x y/n #rue bennett x you #rue bennett x reader

[madam-wakefield]

Butternut Squash Soup

A little sickfic written for the @berenaadvent day 17 prompt “cold”.

This can easily fit into the “Open when…” series as a something that happened in their lives before Bernie deployed. It shares a few similarities to some of the things in Serena’s Open when you feel ill… envelope contains! You don’t need to have read that for this is to make sense though.

Read on A03

Serena HATES being ill, okay she knows everyone hates being ill, but she absolutely loathes it. It’s actually for totally unselfish reasons in a way, it has nothing to do with the fact that she struggles to talk with a raspy voice, or that she sneezes and blows her nose so often that she has to walk around with a tiny tin of Vaseline in her pocket. It isn’t even about the migraine she usually gets that even painkillers and a full two litres of water don’t get rid of. No, it’s about all the things she can’t do and all the people she can’t look after when she’s ill.

First there is Jason who gets so angsty if his routine isn’t followed, if the right meal isn’t served up at the right time on the right day, because fish and chip night can only ever be a Thursday, “the chippy is far too busy on a Friday, Auntie Serena, and they just don’t prepare everything to the same standard.”

Second is her ward, the one she’s in charge of. With junior doctors and F1s and F2s who rely on her calmness to help them, to guide the, to make them better doctors. To show them the ropes, to talk them through a new procedure or operation and to just be that firm solid figure at the end of a day when everything seems to have gone so wrong no matter what they’ve done. Shes had years of days like that, they aren’t any easier than they were, but she knows how to cope with them now in a way the younger doctors don’t yet but will learn to.

Lastly, it’s her patients. The thing about AAU is that as much as the trauma bay will often pull her into surgery unexpectedly, there is also a number of patients who have scheduled operations, operations that she is needed to perform.

So, when she wakes up at 5am in the morning three weeks before Christmas, shivering despite the warmth of their bedroom only to be overtaken by a fit of sneezes she curses, she can’t afford to be ill not now.

“Rena…” comes the sleepy voice from the other side of the bed as the covers shift and Bernie slowly sits up, her hair sleep mused and messy.

“Go back to sleep darling, it’s your day off,” Serena says gently because Bernie has worked for the past five days straight and deserves to sleep in, she’d been home three house late last night due to a multi car pileup on the motorway that had pulled her into surgery just minutes before handover. It sounds genuine enough, but she knows there is no way Bernie will listen when as she finishes speaking her body is racked with a sudden coughing fit, so classic for her if she managed to catch a winter cold.

“I’m awake now sweetheart, you know I would have probably woken you up to make you coffee before your shift anyway. As I happens you aren’t going anywhere today, but I am going to go downstairs and make you a lemsip.” I’ll be back in a second. Bernie leans down and presses a kiss to the top of her head, and she snuggles into it, loving how openly affectionate Bernie is when they are alone. She can only stare unashamedly as Bernie climbs out of bed and walks, naked, to the door where she grabs her dressing gown and wraps it around herself before quietly leaving the bedroom, knowing only too well not to wake Jason.

Serena uses the time to use the en-suite, almost grabs for a packet of paracetamol before she remembers not to because she’ll get all she’s allowed from the lemsip Bernie is making her. Instead grabs the Vicks vapour rub and the little tin of Vaseline that she’ll need and places them on her bedside table before herself grabbing her dressing gown off the back of the door, putting it on before sliding back under the covers back propped against the headboard. Just as she’s settled Bernie comes back in the room, using her back to push against the door, arms carrying a tray laden with cups and a light breakfast.

She places the tray on Serena’s own bedside table and hands her the lemsip, smell unmistakable even if it is slightly lessened by her awful, blocked nose. Placing a kiss on top of her head before pulling away. Grabbing her own cup of coffee and sliding back into bed next to Serena and placing her arm gently around her. Serena snuggles in close, feels cold whereas Bernie always seems to feel warm.

“I rang Hanssen and told him you wouldn’t be in work today.” Bernie reassures her, but Serena is quick to argue.

“I’m fine to work,” she protests before her body betrays her. Bernie takes her cup just in time as she starts to sneeze again, just manages to stop her sloshing the liquid all over the bed.

“And how exactly do you think you are going to do surgery when you have a sneezing or coughing fit multiple times every hour?” Bernie asks gently, no malice at all in her voice, only concern.

“I, I don’t know, but Miss Williams is scheduled for surgery today, and you know as well as I do that if she doesn’t get that surgery today, she may not make it home for Christmas.” And Bernie knows Serena will try and put everyone before herself, hates letting her patients or her Holby family down.

“Which is why I’ve already told Hanssen I’ll go in and perform the surgery, it’s not something I’ve done as much as you, but it is a procedure I’m familiar with. I’ve also told him I’ll be on call for the day if he needs it.” Bernie says now handing Serena drink back to her.

Serena takes another sip, of the still very hot liquid before replying. “But today is meant to be your day off, you’ve worked far too much overtime the past few days anyway, you need a rest too.” Serena says worry lacing her raspy voice. Hates that Bernie is having to do this because of her.

“Sweetheart, please stop that trail of thought,” Bernie says giving her one of her no nonsense looks that she images had men quivering when she was in the army. “I’m not doing it because I have to, I’m doing it because I care about you and want you to rest and get better, and besides I’ve got three more days off after today. Please just let me do this so you can get yourself better.”

Serena relents and thirty minutes later Bernie is once again kissing her atop of the head as she says goodbye. As Serena herself snuggles into the hot water bottle Bernie has made her, safe in the knowledge that apart from to use the bathroom she doesn’t have to leave the bed, Bernie has placed everything she might need on her bedside table.

Serena falls asleep quickly once Bernie is gone, she still feels guilty about the fact she’s gone but the biological need for sleep to help her get better wins.

When she wakes a fair few hours later the house smells unmistakably like Bernie’s cooking. She glances at the alarm clock only to realise it’s been over five hours since Bernie left the house and that she’s performed Miss Williams’ surgery and already returned home.

Serena lies there content for a few minutes before a coughing fit pulls at her lungs, has her sitting up and reaching for the bottle of water that Bernie had placed on her bedside table that morning.

It’s as if Bernie has some sort of innate sense because not two minutes later, she once again pushes into the room arms carrying a tray, only this time she’s still dressed in the shirt and trousers she’d put on to go to work that morning and they tray is instead laden with two large bowls. Serena knows without asking that it’s Bernie’s butternut squash soup. She watches as Bernie places the tray on her own bedside table this time, Serena’s still too full of everything else and leans over to kiss the top of her head before she sits on the bed before handing her a steaming bowl of golden yellow soup.

“Thank you,” Serena says genuinely grateful for her girlfriend who always goes above and beyond to look after her when she’s poorly, whose soup is like some sort of magic that always make her feel so much better.

“You’re welcome, I know how much you like this when you are poorly. Know it’s about the only thing you can stomach, and thanks to that soup maker you brought me last Christmas is doesn’t take me long at all to make a batch. And before you ask the surgery went well, Miss Williams is most definitely on track to be home for Christmas.” Bernie says smiling at Serena gently.

“I love you,” is the only reply that feels right for Serena, because it’s the only words that she feels show Bernie how grateful she is for her.

“I love you too,” Bernie says back, bending down to kiss the top of her head once again, something she always loves Bernie doing when she’s feeling rubbish. “Now eat up before it goes cold, it’ll make you feel better, you and I both know it. Then maybe we can cuddle together and watch a movie.” And that’s exactly what they spend the rest of the day doing and Serena is definitely grateful that by so miracle the red phone must stay silent as Bernie isn’t pulled back into work and instead gets to stay snuggled in bed with her. Serena still HATES being ill, but she can’t help but be thankful that she has someone to look after her and truly her make her feel better.

#berena advent 2023 #Berena Advent Cold #Madam Wakefield Writes #Berena Fanfic #Berena #Bernie Wolfe #Serena Campbell #holby city #holby #buckle fandom

[indecentpause]

Find the Word

jumping on an open tag from @andromedaexists to find leave, guarantee, follow, alright, & night. excellent words here! thank you for leaving an open tag for me to stumble across!

from The Black & Blues

cw: homophobia, mental illness, anxiety,l medica

leave:

You all pile in without further interruptions. He was probably just big talk. Once the doors are closed and Jaisyn’s started the van, Josselin crawls into your lap and buries his face in your stomach, like you do when you need reassurance. You gently pet his hair and say, “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I doubt he’d even recognize you somewhere else.”

Josselin shakes his head. “I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine.” You gently tilt his head so you can see his eyes. “I’m fine. Okay? It’s just some asshole who thinks he’s a big shot talking shit. I dealt with way worse in high school. It’s okay, okay?”

He doesn’t argue, but he wraps his arms tighter around you. Frankie, sitting next to you, gently jostles his ankle in reassurance.

“So, what…what happened?” Josephine asks. “Austin just said we had to leave, like, now.”

“Homophobe saw my hand on Josselin’s waist and decided he was going to start shit.” Josselin curls even closer around you, holding you like you’re going to get torn away at any moment. You run your fingers through his hair again, gently scratch the back of his head. “Josselin, hey, it’s okay. We’re okay. I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.”

“I know. I’m afraid they’d hurt you.”

“What the actual fuck,” Sara snaps.

guarantee certain:

You each stand to shake [Jaisyn’s] hand. “It’s all right,” you say. “We’re just glad to finally meet you!”

He sits down with you. Sara is the first to speak. “I’m in a relationship with two of the men in the band. All three of us are aroace,” she says bluntly. “So if that’s a problem, we’ll find someone else.” Morgan nearly drops his drink. You both whirl toward him and Sara says, “Is that a problem for you, Morgan?”

“No!” he exclaims. He lowers his voice a little. “Of course not. I just wasn’t expecting that. And I certainly wasn’t expecting you to lead the conversation with it.”

“That’s fine,” Jaisyn says breezily. “You do you.”

follow:

“This is us?” you finally manage, in a voice loud enough to hear. “This is us!?”

“We sound so professional!” Josephine says. “Oh my god, we sound like pros!”

Sara jumps into Austin’s lap on Kris’s other side, then pulls him in by the arm, until the three of them are in a laughing, happy pile on the side of the room, Josephine and Morgan are holding each others’ arms at the elbow and bouncing like excited cockatiels. And you leap on Danny with a hug so hard it knocks him back. He hugs you back, your hands tight on each other’s shoulders.

“We did it!” you say. “We fucking did it!”

“We did!” Danny laughs. “We made it happen!”

All eight of you, together, pile into Jaisyn’s van and out to Pick Me Up to celebrate with vegan chili cheese fries. You try not to be too rowdy, but you can’t help the loud, happy laughter that floats from your table and through the restaurant.

It’s July and you’ve played at least one show a month since you started in December. Sometimes two or three when your schedules allowed. You’ve amassed a small following of people who come to shows specifically to see you! You have fans! You’ve finally started making money out of it.

alright/all right:

[The doctor] scribbles something down on her chart. She flips through the papers on her clipboard and says, “Your blood pressure and pulse are a bit high for someone as young as you are. How often do these panic attacks happen?”

“Maybe five or six times a week. Most days, now. It started with just one every couple of weeks but over the last two months it’s gotten so much worse.”

“Do you feel anxious all the time? Or just when you have these attacks?”

You don’t answer right away. Eventually, you say, “I think I’ve always been anxious. I remember events where I wasn’t, but I don’t remember time periods of it.”

She nods and scribbles something more.

“All right, Meara, I’m going to refer you to a therapist, who will have a meeting with you and refer you to a psychiatrist if they think it’s needed.”

You can feel your face fall, and your chest twists tight. “How long will that take?”

night:

Downstairs, Danny is in the kitchen making something that smells delicious. You call out a hello as you enter, and he pops out of the kitchen, holding a wooden spoon.

“Meara! How are you? Josselin said you had a really rough night. Did something happen?”

His voice is a little tight on the last question, like he’s afraid you’ve been cornered again. But he’s always been like that with you, ever since you were just two closeted kids.

You rub at your face as Josselin closes and locks the door behind you. “I had another panic attack. At work.”

Danny’s expression shifts from worry to alarm. He leans back into the kitchen and you can hear the click of the knob as he turns the stove off so he can give you his full attention.

“You don’t have to–”

“No, it won’t hurt it. I just started. What happened?”

sending the open tag along with black, shine, relief, and twist!

#writeblr #my writing #tag games #excerpt #wip #the black and blues #sheraton academy #sheraton academy au #meara ryanne #josselin clearwater #danny yazdi #josephine gupta #sara quill #morgan acosta benitez #jaisyn mayhew

[absolutepitch1]

Early music instruction

Child abuse can be tough to identify, fundamentally due to the various layers of mystery utilized by a lot of people of those required, from the kid to the culprit and, surprisingly, the casualty's loved ones. This happens as a result of various variables, for instance, the youthful one might feel regretful and hesitant to approach and report the maltreatment, particularly in the event that the assailant is a trusted or regarded power figure like a teacher, uncle, auntie or parent. Different elements include: the culprit might be the casualty's cousin or companion or the guardians probably shouldn't report the episode regardless of whether it becomes visible for dread or cultural and familial disdain and denigration.

Understanding the treacherous idea of kid misuse, grown-ups at home and in the area must, in this way, be particularly watchful toward any peculiar or surprising way of behaving displayed by youngsters, outsiders standing around close to where kids accumulate like jungle gyms and schoolyards, and signs of regular and fierce homegrown questions. Grown-ups should likewise assume on the liability of instructing themselves on the various types of kid misuse, their side effects, and comprehend how to safeguard youngsters from it.

Children's music videos

Child care Montessori near me

Kindermusik classes  toddler enrichment 

Early music instruction

Learn absolute pitch

Learn perfect pitch

Here are the various kinds and indications of youngster misuse:

Actual maltreatment: Kids experience actual maltreatment most frequently because of their folks, instructors, and parental figures. Actual maltreatment can appear as shaking, pushing, slapping, hitting and beating with a belt or another item. More outrageous types of actual maltreatment incorporate consuming the youngster with cigarettes or matches, singing the youngster with heated water, breaking the kid's bones, hauling the kid's hair out and not allowing the kid to eat, drink, rest or utilize the washroom.

A portion of the signs related with actual maltreatment in kids are:

Apparent, incessant surface wounds

Engravings of instruments like a belt or a stick

Swathes and different types of wrapping

Uncommon swelling, particularly on places that wouldn't regularly become wounded

Wounds that are at various phases of recuperating

Wounds that show up after unlucky deficiencies (for instance, from school) or after the end of the week

Cracks in odd spots like the face

Generally speaking poor actual wellbeing

Their clarification of the wounds isn't credible, or the kid/young lady will not make sense of the wounds by any means

Forceful or removed conduct

Restless, unfortunate way of behaving

The youngster is excessively anxious to satisfy grown-ups

The adolescent is watchful and unnaturally awkward around grown-ups

The kid is reluctant to return home or communicates dread of his/her folks

The youthful one is hesitant to cause problems

Sexual maltreatment: Youngsters can experience the ill effects of anybody going from the guardians to more distant family individuals like aunties, uncles, and cousins, companions of the family who successive the house, more seasoned companions of the person in question, educators, mentors, and, surprisingly, complete outsiders. A few types of sexual maltreatment incorporate stroking the kid's private parts, having sex or oral sex with the youngster, having intercourse before the kid, making the kid contact a more seasoned individual's private parts, involving the kid in porn and showing the kid X-evaluated books or recordings.

#Early music instruction

[mrskurono]

When is the collab due?

OH MY GOD IM SO DUMB I TOLD MY WIFE 500 TIMES WHEN ID END IT BUT FORGOT TO POST THE DUE DATE

It will end 06/19 (aka the day before father’s day bc I thought I was funny)

thank you for asking now my dumb ass can add that to the rules!

#oh wait i did add it #sorry it was just between dividers #anyways june nineteenth #but ill probably allow a week for people to wrap it up #three.talks

[sluttywonwoo]

take it off || k.mg x reader

Pairing: mob!mingyu x fem reader

Summary: as much as you hate to admit it, jealousy looks good on your fiancé 

Warnings: swearing, light smut (18+)

Word Count: 1.8k

a/n: reworked this old blurb originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )

Masterlist

“Mingyu, slow down,” you said with a sigh, trying not to roll your eyes.

“What was he thinking?” Mingyu spat, not acknowledging what you had just said. He gripped the steering wheel even harder.

You watched as his knuckles began to turn white and rubbed his arm soothingly. “Baby, take a deep breath. Relax.”

He just shrugged you off and cursed at the car in front of him.

“Don’t fucking tell me to relax.”

“It’s not a big deal, Gyu.”

He actually turned his head towards you and looked at you this time. “You’re joking.”

You shrugged sheepishly. “I’ve had worse.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

You winced, knowing you’d probably made it worse and that Mingyu was likely now picturing the grimy hands of ill-intentioned strangers all over your body.

“I should have him killed,” he snarled.

To most, that threat would sound completely ridiculous or utterly insane, but your fiancé was the head of the Seoul mob-the South West branch anyway- and he was no stranger to violence. Having someone killed would be as easy as snapping his fingers.

You scoffed to call his bluff.

“You think I won’t?” he challenged and you groaned.

“You promised you were done with that.”

It’s true, one of the conditions of your engagement had been that Mingyu agree to put the more sinister side of his business to rest, and although you trusted him, in all honesty, you weren’t sure how well he was upholding his end of the deal.

“I’d make an exception.”

“Well don’t. I don’t want some poor guy’s blood on my hands.”

At that, the car screeched to a stop right in the middle of the freeway. The cars behind you honked and flashed their lights at Mingyu as they maneuvered to avoid a collision.

You huffed in frustration, wanting to bang your head against the dashboard. This was exactly why you didn’t like for Mingyu to drive himself: he pulled dangerous shit all the time like this. Literally, all of his other men had drivers who took them places and you desperately wished Mingyu would hire someone, but he insisted that it was safest if he was the one driving (yet here you were in the middle of the highway).

“You could’ve fucking killed us!” you shouted, more annoyed than anything.

Mingyu took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. But y/n, he’s not just some poor guy.”

“He was trying to get a rise out of you, Gyu. He fucking hates you, of course, he’d go after me, and he was drunk.”

Mingyu narrowed his eyes at you, foot still pressed firmly on the brake. “That’s not a fucking excuse, you of all people should know that. Why are you trying to defend him?”

“I’m not trying to defend him, I’m just saying he doesn’t deserve to die. Can we please just get home?”

Mingyu relented and put the car back into motion making you breathe a sigh of relief.

Even though he didn’t say anything else you could tell his mind was still going a thousand miles a minute. You watched him chew at his lip in silence and wondered what was going on in that beautiful head of his. Nothing good, you could be sure of that.

Mingyu’s mind was darker than most. Occupational hazard. He carried so much pain that you hadn’t known about when you first met him. He’d let you in slowly, keeping you at arm’s length for months, until he almost lost you. And then he knew he couldn’t keep things from you anymore. It was still a challenge to understand his thought process sometimes, but you liked it that way. How could a ruthless, power-hungry mobster also be the most loving, family-oriented person you’d ever met in your life? How could someone who dropped a grand on a dinner like it was nothing secretly rather spend one more night picnicking with crappy Chinese food on the bedroom floor in your old apartment? You couldn’t think of an answer, and you didn’t want to.

The guy at the bar tonight had been some rival of Mingyu’s. You hadn’t seen him before, but you could tell because when Mingyu got up to get the two of you more drinks he swooped in and laid it on heavy. He looped one arm around your waist and placed his other hand on your knee and began attempting to seduce you. Sure, you were uncomfortable but more than anything you were angry. And tired. Tired of being used as bait, something to get to Mingyu.

You didn’t want to make a scene so you listened to the asshole talk about how much better he’d treat you than Mingyu until your fiancé eventually returned with your drinks in hand, face beet red, eyes dark with anger.

The man, you never caught his name, left the bar with a broken nose. Mingyu left with bruised knuckles. You’d thought it would end at that, but of course, once Mingyu got started it was hard for him to stop. It was a gift in the bedroom, but a curse in the rest of your life.

Then, so softly you almost didn’t hear it, Mingyu broke the silence in the car and said “I know what he said to you,” and it all clicked.

Normally, a hand on your shoulder, thigh, ass was enough to set Mingyu off, but combine that with the filthy words he’d undoubtedly overheard spilling from the man’s lips… no wonder all he could see was red.

“Mingyu, I-“

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to start something.”

“Start something? Is that true? Or do you think he’s right?”

“No, of course not.”

“Do you think he can satisfy you better than I can?”

“Mingyu!”

“Well do you?”

You shook your head and rubbed your thighs together, fighting a shiver. As irritating as Mingyu’s jealousy could be, the effect it had on you was even more infuriating. The man could already turn you on without doing anything and whenever he started acting a little jealous it was game over for you. It was pathetic, really.

“Why the fuck did he even think it was okay to look at you, let alone touch you?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged finally settling in to play the game. “These big dudes with huge muscles just think they can have whoever they want.”

Mingyu whipped his head back towards you. “What did you say?”

You ignored him. “I mean he definitely wouldn’t be as good as you, but he could do some damage.” Mingyu was full-on glaring at you now, and you wanted to tell him to keep his eyes on the road, but you couldn’t give up so fast. “I mean, just one of his hands could probably wrap around my whole neck. Like they were giant, and you know what they say about guys with big hands-“

“Do you think this is funny?”

Any sane person wouldn’t even think about taunting Mingyu like this, not with his reputation, but you couldn’t be sane to be with someone like Mingyu anyway, and besides, you knew he was a big softie at heart.

“A little,” you admitted. “You look really hot right now.”

He really did. His hair was tousled with silver highlights from the moonlight streaming in through the windshield, his tan skin was flushed with adrenaline, and his white button-up was unbuttoned just a few times to show off his collarbone. You bit your lip. You were so fucking weak.

“That’s not going to work.”

“No?” You quirked an eyebrow and leaned over the console to see that he was already more than half hard in his dress pants. “Because it looks like it’s working.” You reached over and began to palm him through his trousers, smirking when he cursed and rolled his neck at the contact.

“Y/n, if I have to pull over, you’re not going to be able to walk for the next week.”

Oh no, that’d be horrible you thought to yourself and rolled your eyes. He had to know that’s what you secretly wanted, right? Right? Why were men so stupid?

Either way, you took your hand back and moved it up under the hem of your dress to where you were feeling a little desperate for some friction. You sighed deeply when you rubbed yourself over your panties, not even surprised at how wet you were.

“Fuck,” you hissed out and hiked your legs up onto the seat so you could give Mingyu a better view.

“Stop that.”

He said it so forcefully that you froze, fingers hovering over your panties, about to pull them to the side. Then you smiled.

“No.” You went ahead and did it anyway, slipping two fingers inside of yourself easily.

You weren’t one to defy Mingyu often, especially when it came to what he asked of you in the bedroom, but you knew how crazy it drove him and just couldn’t resist.

Mingyu groaned, trying and failing to maintain an angry expression. His eyes betrayed an absolutely sinful lust that made you want to melt and you wished more than anything he’d just pull the fucking car over.

“Fuck, Gyu,” you gasped, “I wish these were your fingers, you’re so good with your fingers.”

“Yeah? You sure you wish they’re my fingers? Not someone else’s?”

You shook your head vigorously. “Never. You’re the only one who knows how to make me cum that hard.”

“Is that what you want? To cum hard?”

“God, yes,” you moaned, pumping your fingers in and out of you faster.

“Take off your dress.”

“What?” you weren’t sure if you’d heard him right, you were still driving down the highway after all.

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

Not wanting to push your luck any further you didn’t hesitate to listen this time and pulled the loose fabric up and over your head.

“Good girl,” he praised and you whined. You were still wearing your bra and underwear and as much as you’d love to flash oncoming traffic, you hoped Mingyu wouldn’t ask you to take them off.

“You can touch yourself,” he said and you complied, knowing it was more of an instruction than an allowance.

It felt good, really good, but you still wished it was him instead of you.

“Fuck, darling you look so beautiful like that, God, I can’t believe I get to marry you.”

“If, you stop, killing people,” you managed to get out through gritted teeth and Mingyu laughed.

“I’m not going to kill him, baby. I made a promise. You’re too important to risk losing, even if he is a fucking prick.”

You whimpered, the mixture of complete head-over-heels love you felt for Mingyu and pleasure making you crumble.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he said, reaching over and taking you by the wrist, stalling your movements just as you were about to fall over the edge. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll forget you ever met that asshole.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

forever tags: @haven-cove

shoot me an ask to be added/removed from my taglist

#take it off #mingyu smut #kim mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x fem reader #mingyu x you #mingyu x y/n #mingyu x female reader #mingyu x fem reader #kim mingyu x female reader #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen x reader #svt x reader

[crybabyjuju]

[Fluff]GlamrockFreddy x Sick!GN!Reader

A/N: I plan on making more FNAF characters x sick reader short stories, so keep an eye on that. I got the idea of making this since I’m currently sick myself. 

Warning: This does mention a split paragraph of vomit, nothing detailed but I put a “*” before and after the paragraph so you can just ignore it if it makes you uncomfy! :)

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

“I’m coming!” You screamed as you shuffled your way to the door.

You were just laying down all cozy just watching a show when you heard a knock at your door. You’re currently sick and the last thing you wanted to do was have any guests uninvitedly over at this time. You unlocked your door and opened it up, “Who is-”

“Hello, Superstar.”

You couldn’t even believe what you were seeing.

“Get inside!” You loudly whispered to the large animatronic bear. 

You worked at the same pizzaplex Freddy performed at, only your job was giving tours to people. Sometimes you would come across Freddy during your tours and a simple “Hello” would be dear. A lot of times though, there would be the excited children that just had to stop and chat with the bear. You wouldn’t consider yourselves friends though, since you never truly got a chance to sit down and talk to each other. But as far as you knew, you could say you and Freddy got along just fittingly.

Since you were sick, you weren’t able to show up for your job at the megaplex today. Actually, you’ve been out for a week since your illness has yet to go away.

“I haven’t seen you around… Y/N.” Freddy said, his tone drifting into something you couldn’t put a finger on. “I thought surely something must’ve happened to you. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Freddy watched as you started coughing into your elbow. You suddenly felt his eyes scan your face. “What are you doing?” You nervously asked. “You’re not feeling well.” 

You blinked at him. “Really? I didn’t know.”

“I must call an ambulance.”

“NO DON’T!”

{}{}{}

“So resting is what cures your body? And it is not an urgent issue?” Freddy asked. You nodded. “Then maybe you should rest and I can stay right here in case you need anything.” You gave Freddy a quizzical look. “You should probably get back to the pizzaplex. If they run maintenance and see that you’re not there…” You trailed off. You realized that a 8-foot mechanical bear doesn’t just wander around unnoticed. “Freddy, I have to call them and tell them you are standing in my house.”

You picked up your phone and was about to dial the megaplex until he snatched your phone and placed it in his stomach cavity.

You looked at the empty spot in your hand where your phone was resting literally a second ago. 

“Please… let me stay here with you.” For a metallic being that was semiconscious, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for Freddy. 

“Okay, but you need to get back to the megaplex before it closes.”

*

You both happily sat down in front of your television, watching whatever comfort show you had on. It wasn’t until just half an hour later, you found yourself running into your bathroom and spilling your stomach out into the toilet. After you were finished, you sat on the cold tiled floor for a few minutes.

“Would you like some water?” Freddy asked in the doorway. You raised an eyebrow. “Did you happen to see all of that?”

Freddy nodded. You groaned in embarrassment until Freddy commented, “I work with children, Y/N. I’ve had many kids throw up all because I got to sing happy birthday to them.”

*

After you got yourself cleaned up, Freddy helped you into bed. “Perhaps, I should go back to the megaplex and let you rest.”

Just as Freddy was about to turn to leave, you grabbed ahold of him. “Wait!” you exclaimed, catching Freddy off guard. “Maybe you could lay here and spend the night?” You blushed at your question.

Freddy gave you a warm smile and took his place right next to you on the bed. He wrapped his arms around you and allowed you to drift off into sleep.

{}{}{}

“Guys… Freddy’s still not here” Chika worriedly announced, peeking out onto the open floor where a large crowd of fans gathered.

“Well if Freddy’s not here, how are we going to perform?” Roxanne asked, most of the staff shrugging and not knowing how else to proceed further.

“Ladies,” Monty chimed, “I got this.”

Monty then cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled out into the crowd,

“WHO HERE KNOWS THE SONG WAP?”

#fnaf glamrock freddy #fnaf sb #fnaf #fnaf security breach #fnaf x reader #fnaf glamrock animatronics #glamrock #fnaf glamrock freddy x reader

[reidsnose]

love letters

overview: spencer has a wonderful idea after finding out that reader had never gone to her senior prom

genre: fluff fluff fluff

a/n: i mixed two ideas that have been sitting in my notes app for this lol but i think its sweet!! i wrote it a little rushed and definitely not bc im not getting a prom this year due to miss rona👀 LMAO but as always please lmk what yall think ab it :)

masterlist

-

the idea had fully occupied his thoughts the second after the words left your mouth.

it was "the buttcrack of dawn" as you had called it, though spirits were high on the late jet ride home. it was a rare but much needed positive end to the case, and everyone was happily chatting with each other. since the case was involving high schoolers, the subject fell on prom. everyone went around sharing their prom stories one by one, recalling awful dresses and questionable dates til the questions turned to spencer.

"what ab you, pretty boy, what was your prom like?" morgan asked, still smiling widely from recalling his own.

you watched spencer shift uncomfortably for a second.

"i uh..i never went to prom." he stammered, a tight lipped smile on his face.

"no! you just dont wanna tell us!" prentiss cried, throwing her hands in the air.

"i graduated high school when i was 12! why would i have gone to prom?" he reasoned.

"you had to have gone when you were older or something! everyone has!" jj countered.

"thats not true, i never went to prom either," you defended, subconsciously inching closer to spencer.

before anyone could even ask you to explain why, spencer got the idea. he mentally left the conversation after you gave your answer. he spent the whole rest of the ride home and the next couple of weeks brain storming and planning.

and casually after work one day, as he was walking you to your car, he asked you if you wanted to hang out with him that weekend; at his house.

you and Spencer had hung out before, but mostly at your house or at coffee shops; he didn't invite people over very often.

of course you agreed but you grew confused when he told you to dress fancy.

you raced home afterwards to raid your closet, looking for any fancy dresses you may have stuffed in there.

spencer spent the whole day preparing his apartment. he put up streamers and balloons. he made a playlist of all your favorite songs. and then he rushed to get his clothes from the cleaners.

and when you knocked at his door the breath that left your lungs struggled to come back after he opened the door.

he stood in a gorgeous suit, different than he had ever worn to work. he rubbed the back of his neck and gestured to the living room, revealing the adorable (albeit poorly made but its the thought that counts) decorations.

"um.. welcome to prom," he said, turning back to you, revealing a blushy smile.

he tried not to stare too much at you, but it was difficult. your eyes sparkled as you stepped inside and looked around. and the dress you were wearing fit you so gorgeously he truly couldnt take his eyes off of you.

"spencer, i..." you trailed off, enchanted by what he had done.

"sorry if it looks bad. or if you think its weird that i did this. i just thought cause neither of us went to prom maybe you wanted to have a little one with me? yeah now that i say it out loud maybe you hate it im sorr-" he rambled behind you.

you turned quickly to him as he got lost in his words, eyes glued to the floor. cutting him off by wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him as tight as you could. you could feel the tension leave his body as he melted into the embrace, returning it gladly. he doesn't like to be touched by anyone really, except for you.

"i love it. thank you," you whispered, giving him one last squeeze before letting go.

he has a spread of snacks lying out on the coffee table which he has mooved to the corner of the room to make space for a makeshift dancefloor.

he turns on the music and you two start talking and dancing and laughing. two fools with four left feet completely and obliviously in love. well, oblivious the the other anyway.

a slower song came on, an old one that you had wanted to slow dance to ever since you were a little girl. and somehow naturally you two came together, his hand dropped to your waist, the other delicately cradling your own. your other hand found its way up to his shoulder, feeling as though a magnet was pulling you two closer. and closer.

he looked absolutely stunning. the soft lights he had strung around the apartment sparkled like stars in his eyes; its was...dizzying, in the most incredible way.

unbeknownst to you, as you stared at the stars in his eyes he was looking at his whole world that he had been somehow lucky enough to hold in his arms.

he held his arm out, allowing you to spin and when he pulled you back both of your arms ended up wrapped around his neck, and his around your waist. you were less dancing now and more...hugging. with your head pressed to his chest, he hoped with all his might that you wouldn't be able to hear his hammering heart. you most definitely could, but it was calming to know he was as nervous as you were. you smiled, listening more to his heart than the music he had played for you.

you were both sure that you could burst from pure bliss. the song ended a little too quickly for either of your liking and reluctantly you let go of each other. and suddenly Spencer was hit with the realization that he forgot something.

"oh my gosh," his eyes widened as he looked around the room.

"what?" you asked, mirroring him and looking as well.

"i can't remember where i left your corsage! i was gonna give it to you at the door but i forgot!" he exclaimed, running around the room checking shelves.

you smiled to yourself. he got you a corsage!

"ill help you look" you decided.

"please do," he chuckled.

"i thought you had an eidetic memory, shouldn't you know where you left it?" you joked, shooting him a smug smile.

"y/n, my brain was all jumbled to day and it wasn't just from being around you," he realized what he had said and quickly turned back to the shelf he was looking at, "could you check in my room please?"

his heart was racing at his own stupidity; how could he just say that so nonchalantly? he had been planning to tell you that he liked you for the longest time he cant afford slipping up and having it be anything less than perfect.

you slipped into his room, your cheeks warm from the idea that you make his big brain all jumbled. he probably didn't mean it like that, you were just looking too much into it.

you sighed as you crouched to look under his bed for it. you found a small wooden box that you slid out from underneath. it had your name on it.

is it normal to keep a corsage in a wooden box? you wouldn't know, you never went to prom.

you shrugged your shoulders, "i found it spence!"

with out thinking you opened the box, except instead of a band of flowers you were greeted with letters, all addressed to you. there were annotations written in the margins with purple ink. you furrowed your eyebrows as you scanned the various letters.

dear y/n,

today you complimented my glasses and my heart skipped a beat. thats dumb spencer dont start like that

dear y/n,

im in love with you. too forward

dear y/n,

you make life worth living. shes gonna think youre a creep

you felt a rush of euphoria fill your chest. did he really feel these things for you? your thoughts swirled in the most wonderful way. a wide smile broke across your face, butterflies running rampage through your stomach as you reread his words. his words addressed to you.

"oh thank God i really thought i lost-oh. oh no." spencer started as he walked through the door of his room immediately walking back out. you followed, blinking your watery eyes at him. "i can explain.

"i think youve explained enough, theres like 20 letters in here!" you chuckled, flipping through them.

"i didnt know how to tell you and i dont want to ruin what we already have and i-"

"it wasnt too forward." you stated, grabbing one of the letters.

"what?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"in this one," you held up the letter, "you wrote dear y/n, im in love with you. and then you crossed it out and wrote that it was too forward but i dont think it was."

"youre not mad?"

"mad? spencer ive been trying to admit the fact that im in love with you since i realized it myself, why would i be mad?"

"youre..you feel the same way?" he looked back up at you, a hesitant smile pulling on the corners of his lips.

"more so," you beamed, stepping closer.

he wrapped his arms around you, "thats good or else the rest of this prom would have sucked."

you chuckled, pulling him impossibly closer to you as another perfect song played.

-

-

ultra mega super cool taglist

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @spenxerslut @violetspoetic @aperrywilliams @b-a-utiful @eevee0722 @srhxpci @reidemandweep @imdefinitelyfloating @random-human-person @gurkiloni @luvspence @calm-and-doctor @ssavanessa22 @singularityjc @sydnee-kom-spacekru @sydneekomspacekru

#criminal minds #spencer reid #reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluffy #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid cute #derek morgan #morgan #prentiss #emily prentiss #jennifer jereau #jj #platonic!bau x reader #bau #bau x reader #behavioral analysis unit

[benditlikepress]

one good movie kiss

here for @sunforgrace 's thesis statement: give dean one good movie kiss and he WILL be alright

“Are you avoiding me?”

Dean’s hand stills in the air above his cup of coffee as the voice cuts through the kitchen.

Cas is standing in the middle of the room in an ill-fitting sweater and his hair is dishevelled as though he’s been tossing and turning. He looks so unremarkable, so human, it makes Dean’s breath catch in his throat at the reminder.

It’s been three days since Cas got back and it occurs to Dean when he speaks that it’s the first time they’ve been alone together. Awake, that is: Dean realised early on that difficult conversations couldn’t happen if you’re asleep. Thank god for Cas’ Empty-rescue hangover.

“No. I’m not avoiding you.”

“OK. Good. I was worried that after what happened things might be weird between us, but I suppose that’s unavoidable.” Cas pulls a face that’s a little self-deprecating.

I’m fighting the urge to run the hell away from you, Dean thinks. To stay the hell away from you before I do anything else to hurt you. Before you make a reckless decision to save me, again, or say something so brutal and true that my legs give out from under me and I’m left sitting alone on the floor wondering how the hell I’m supposed to do this on my own.

I’m fighting the urge to wrap you in my arms and never let go.

“I’m not avoiding you, Cas. I just.. I’m trying to figure out the stuff I have to say to you.”

“I understand. I know everything that’s happened recently is a lot to contend with.”

“Yeah, that’s an understatement.” Dean coughs and stands up, tapping his hands against his legs for something to do. Cas is looking at him expectantly and Dean knows he deserves answers but how is he supposed to do that? How do you even begin to explain to someone that their mere presence in the room has your breath hitching? “But it’s not.. you. It’s not you I’m avoiding. It’s just. Y’know. The stuff you said before you..” He doesn’t say it. He can’t. Cas blinks.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. That’s – god, that’s the last thing I want. I’m just.. trying to get my head around it.”

“I meant it.”

“I know you did. I know that. I just.. I believe you, and nobody’s ever really said that stuff to me and meant it before. So I don’t really know how to talk to you about it. But I.. so long as you know I appreciate it.” The words are too fast and Dean doesn’t know if that’s more or less embarrassing than the way he’s stumbling, pathetic half-words forcing their way out of his mouth.

“OK.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

And it’s that simple to him, apparently. He doesn’t ask Dean for anything else. It pisses Dean off, actually – he wants Cas to ask him. Maybe if he’s forced to confront it the words might come out a little easier.

“I mean, you know that I.” Dean stops again abruptly and jesus christ why is there a lump in his throat? “It means something. To me. It means a whole lot, actually. Maybe if it didn’t it’d be easier to talk about. There’s stuff that I wanna.. stuff I need for you to hear. That you deserve to hear, when I get my head out of my ass. Because I don’t feel like I deserve any of that crap you said to me, but you deserve to hear things back.”

It feels like a monumental admission but it’s clearly not the thing on Cas’ mind as he frowns.

“You think you don’t deserve that? You really believe that?”

“Honestly? I’ve never believed it. I don’t know why you give me the time of day half the time, man. And you don’t have to.. argue about it, or anything. I know you want to. It’s just how I see it.”

Cas thinks about that for a couple of seconds, eyes boring into Dean so deeply he half-wonders if he can’t still see his soul. He walks further into the room but doesn’t approach Dean – not really. Just takes a couple of steps between the distance.

“I won’t argue. Not now. But I hope I can make you understand that you deserve it. Happiness, peace.. love-” The word has Dean’s mind reeling, flashbacks and heat rushing “– I spent a long time believing I couldn’t accept them for myself. I thought too much had happened, or that I wasn’t built to be capable. You allowed me to think differently. I want you to do the same.” Cas looks down and taps his hand on the edge of the table as though he hasn’t got Dean’s heart in the palm of it. He looks up again and his expression is breath-takingly earnest. “Dean, the things I said barely touch the sides. I don’t know if I could ever put into words the impact you’ve had on me since we met. I just wanted you to understand. I needed you to understand how other people see you, even if you can’t see it for yourself.”

“Message received.” Dean responds like a fucking asshole but Cas smiles all the same, warm and knowing and in a way that fills Dean with the relief of being understood.

“I can give you space to think about things if that’s what you want. I know I’ve put you in a difficult position.”

“It’s not difficult. Probably not for anyone else except me.”

Dean smiles in derision and Cas returns it but it’s pity and sadness and love and Dean’s mouth closes. “It was difficult. I threw things at you that’d been on my mind for a long time and didn’t give you any time to process it.”

“I’ve had weeks. Weeks and weeks, and I still can’t.. I think until I saw you again I had no idea how to understand it. Looking you in the eye and thinking about it-” Dean closes his eyes and pushes away black ooze and secrets and everything else that threatens to flow over the things he wants to remember. Tears in Cas’ eyes and his smile so bright, brighter than Dean even thought him capable.

He’s looking at him now like he might break.

“I’m sorry, Cas. I know I’m not-”

“I know exactly what you are, Dean.” The words are clear and sincere and Dean wonders if there’s anyone else in the universe capable of arresting him so simply. “I’ll leave you to it.” Cas eventually nods at Dean’s breakfast and smiles, dipping his head as he starts to leave.

“We’ll talk. We will.”

“I know we will.” He smiles a little as he turns to walk away and suddenly Dean’s heart is in his mouth at the sight of the back of his head.

Say something. Say something.

“Cas.” Dean calls too quickly, too desperately, and when he turns to look at him with naked expectation all of the wind is knocked right back out of his sails. “I… fuck, Cas. I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He smiles with complete and utter sincerity, and god he has to stop doing that. Stop accepting Dean’s bullshit as though it’s nothing. Shout, argue, anything.

He’s leaving. He’s still leaving, he’s turning away and suddenly Dean’s legs are propelling him through the kitchen of their own accord.

Dean grabs his arm and yanks him around, the force of it making Cas briefly stumble a little before he straightens his feet and looks at Dean with a wide-eyed confusion that makes Dean’s heart hammer in his chest.

Dean brings his hands up to cup Cas’ face around his ears on his neck and jaw, in a way he has before and convinced himself wasn’t ever possible when they weren’t battling life or death. Cas’ stubble is a little longer than usual and he strokes the line of it with his thumb, watching as Cas’ mouth falls open just a touch in the echoing silence.

Dean takes his time, registering every mini-movement of expression in Cas’ face as he understands what’s happening. His hand comes up to Dean’s wrist but doesn’t push it away, rather grips it for dear life as though he’s afraid it’s going to disappear. When Cas’ eyes travel down his face Dean takes it as invitation and closes the gap between them, pressing his lips lightly but surely against Cas’.

At first Cas’ are stunned frozen against his and Dean starts to panic that he’s made some kind of earth-shattering error in judgement before the hand on his wrist relaxes and he feels a pressure against his mouth. Cas’ lips are a little chapped, like always, and Dean feels his eyelashes flutter.

He opens his eyes reluctantly as he pulls away, not sure what he’s expecting to see (rejection? Lucifer? nothing at all?) and almost slams them shut again when he finds Cas peering at him with such utter arresting devotion he thinks his knees might buckle.

Dean’s hands drop to his sides of their own accord, suddenly absolutely terrified, but Cas doesn’t move away in return. In fact, he brings his hand to Dean’s cheek and Dean’s sure he must look like a fish opening and closing his mouth in stunned silence before suddenly Cas moves in to kiss him again, other hand coming up to grab his face and hold him in place as his lips are ferocious and impassioned against his own.

And this, this is more like it, Dean’s barely able to think as Cas’ mouth opens and his tongue plays along the line of Dean’s own lips, his heart hammering in his chest as he hears a noise in Cas’ throat as he allows him entrance.

Cas kisses like he’s never going to get another chance: like Dean has granted him a once-in-a-lifetime wish that’s going to get taken away at any moment. He’s hungry and sharp and warm and Dean feels breathless as he lowers his hands from his face to his neck and then to his hip, pulling Dean sharply against him as Dean’s own hands cup his jaw and try desperately to gain a semblance of control.

There’s stubble scratching his face and he tries fleetingly to explain away the flushing burn on his skin as a by-product of it, but then there’s a hand riding up his shirt onto on the bare skin at the small of his back and it’s on fire.

Where the hell did Cas learn to kiss like this? His head is spinning before he can ponder the question and fingers on his back are steady and grounding even as Cas’ tongue and lips and breath have him practically able to feel the earth spinning beneath him.  

The kiss slows steadily and then all at once as Cas’ lips lighten against his, and he feels him exhale against his skin in a release that Dean himself is desperate for. He knows it’ll come, eventually: in every moment he allows himself to open like this, touch on his skin making him feel alive.

Cas pulls away and Dean feels a longing form deeply and harshly in his throat that barely stops him from yanking him straight back in again. He forces himself to open his eyes, wondering if Cas can see water pricking in the corners of them.

“Don’t give me space, Cas. I don’t want it.” He manages to say though his voice sounds foreign and weird to his own ears, like it’s formed by someone else. There’s that smile on Cas’ lips again and he feels a desperation to say something, anything, that’ll keep it frozen in time. “Just stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“I know.” Cas’ own voice is quiet now and Dean’s fingers somehow find themselves reaching out towards Cas’ hand, pulling it a little.

“You wanna do something today?” He says, just for something to say. Anything to prolong the moment.

“OK.”

“Sweet.” Dean nods and tips his head away, running a hand through his hair to try to gain some composure as Cas smiles at him as though nothing’s happened.

Dean has to pinch himself to check that it has.

#supernatural #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfiction #my fanfiction

[skzsauce01]

Angel Sent From Up Above

Anniversary Request Special

Synopsis: Hyunjin, a new guardian angel, has fallen in love with a human. His human’s girlfriend, to be precise. Angel AU, background college AU and skater AU.

Warning: violence

Word Count: 8.3k

Pairing: fem!reader x guardian angel!Hyunjin; fem!reader x human!Jeongin

“Is she healed now?” Hyunjin asks the moment Jisung flies in. He knows Jisung is probably exhausted from keeping maladies away from you, but he needs the answer now. “Is her flu gone?”

“Yeah.” Jisung’s wings are tinged gray with ruin, but he keeps them on display for all the other guardian angels to see as he walks past them. They are proof that he has been doing his duty. They’ll return to white soon enough anyway. “Your human’s her boyfriend. Why didn’t you try to check through him? He visited a few times even though she told him not to.” Jisung sighs and shakes his head. “What an idiot. He’s going to get sick himself.”

“He hasn't visited recently, so I haven’t been able to check through him. The Archangel’s forbade me going to Earth unless it was something serious. I think he’s worried I'm spending too much time with humans.”

Jisung shakes his head. “I think he’s worried that he’s going to have to Seungmin you.”

“I'm not going to get expelled.”

Jisung shrugs, and ruin falls from his wings like ash. “You better watch out. You checked up on her too much last time she got sick, so he's probably trying to make sure you won't abandon your human. He's banished people for less. Case in point: Seungmin.”

“She's important to Jeongin, so she's important to me."

Jisung sighs. “Sometimes I think you’re more protective of her than I am.”

He says it as a joke, but Hyunjin knows it’s the truth. He cares deeply about you, maybe even more than his own human, but he will never say that last part aloud.

Hyunjin used to believe that becoming a guardian angel was the best thing that ever happened to him. All of his afterlife, he had wanted to be promoted, to be granted the pure white wings and the crown of sun rays. Regular angels had wings and halos but never white wings and golden halos; silver and silver was the “regular” combination.

Watching over a human was considered the highest honor an angel could receive, and everyone clamored to gain the attention of the Archangel. Hyunjin was not immune. He worked as a messenger for years, delivering even the most inane notes between the higher ups. He endured the attacks, verbal and sometimes physical, and kept his mouth shut. Eventually, the Archangel recognized his efforts, and before dawn broke on Earth, Hyunjin was named the new guardian angel of a baby boy, Yang Jeongin.

“You will protect him. You will guide him,” the Archangel said. “He is your responsibility now and yours alone. Do you understand?”

From Heaven, Hyunjin could only look at the wet, wrinkled face of his human. His human. “I understand.”

Then the Archangel flew off, and Hyunjin flew to Earth for the first time to meet the baby. No one noticed him as he phased through the hospital walls nor as his giant wings folded back. Only Jeongin would be able to see his guardian angel.

“Hello there, little one,” he whispered to the swaddled baby. The boy was fast asleep, and Hyunjin gently stroked his face. “I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Hyunjin, your official guardian angel. I’ll always be nearby now, and I’ll always make sure you’re safe. Sometimes you won’t be able to see me, but I’ll always be watching over you. I promise.”

Jeongin stirred awake and stared back at Hyunjin. Two sets of eyes blinked at each other, one full of curiosity and one full of tenderness.

“Go back to sleep,” Hyunjin said. He drew his hand over the baby’s face, and Jeongin’s eyes fluttered shut. “Sweet dreams, little one.”

Guardian angels talked about their humans like parents, bragging about how gifted they were and sharing complaints about what unbelievable thing they did the other day. Hyunjin mostly did the latter. Jeongin was an adventurous child, which was just a nice way of saying that he liked to play with danger. Hyunjin often had to fly in to save him or to redirect the threat somewhere else. The other angels joked that Hyunjin stayed on Earth more than Heaven sometimes. He didn’t mind though. Even with his human’s shortcomings, Hyunjin adored him. He watched from above as Jeongin said his first words, attended his first day of kindergarten, and got into his first fight.

“He’s a troublemaker,” Minho observed.

Minho was a guardian angel as well, but he tended to lurk on the outer edges of the realm as the other angels avoided him for a reason Hyunjin hadn’t figured out yet. Hyunjin liked him well enough and treated him like a mentor, sometimes a friend.

“Hey, you’re not one to talk. Your human started a black market of candy at school.”

Minho shrugged. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

Jeongin didn’t end up growing up into a troublemaker, to Hyunjin’s relief. The impulsive streak was still there, but he utilized his judgement more now. There were no car crashes or cases of alcohol poisoning, and when Jeongin asked out girls, it was with daisy bouquets and a suggestion to get lunch. Hyunjin slowly stopped making routine trips to Earth and chose to view Jeongin from the comfort of Heaven. It was there that Hyunjin noticed you.

“I think she’s upset with him,” Jisung abruptly says. “She cried after a video call with him, so if your human starts acting strangely, that’s why.”

The news makes Hyunjin stop mid-step, and he turns to his friend. “She cried? What? What did she cry about?”

“I don’t know. I was too busy trying to lower her temperature. Can you believe that she almost hit—”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I just got back! There is no ‘earlier!’ Besides, we aren't allowed to interfere in anything that isn't dangerous. Heartbreak, if this is even what this is, is temporary."

“Humans do drastic things for love.” The movies has seen while watching Jeongin have told him that much.

“Which we will attend to when it happens. You’re a new guardian; you’ll understand them better over time. Not everything is life-threatening, fragile as they are.”

Hyunjin turns away from Jisung and glances down at Earth. The clouds part, and all of the brick buildings of the university rush towards his eyes as he focuses on Jeongin. He’s asleep at his desk, his lamp still burning bright above him. How long has it been since the video call? Or perhaps he’s just tired from the events of his day. But he looks so small and vulnerable in his chair. Jeongin isn’t fragile — the amount of situations he has gotten out of covered in bruises and blood is astronomical — but he is mortal.

“But she loves him,” Hyunjin softly says, “and he loves her.”

“Exactly. Humans fight over small things all the time, and this is one of those times.” Jisung places a hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder to placate him. “Trust me.”

“... I trust you.”

“Good. I need to rest, but we can catch up and see what stupid things they do after.”

The moment Jisung flies off to the rest area, Hyunjin goes against the Archangel’s orders and flies to your apartment. When he peers inside your bedroom window, he spots you sitting in bed in the dark, your phone screen illuminating your face. He phases inside and sits at your desk chair, resting his forearms at the top rail. You can’t see him, but he wishes that you could.

You mindlessly scroll through messages, sniffling every few seconds. Whether it’s from your crying or your illness, he doesn’t know. He can’t hand you a tissue or tell you comforting things or hug you like Jeongin can. When you wrap your blanket tighter around your shoulders, he wraps his wings around himself as well.

Suddenly you throw your phone beside you and let out a heavy sigh. “It can’t get any worse than this,” you say to yourself.

Hyunjin waits for you to say more, but you only stare at the ceiling with blank eyes. He can’t compel you to talk; only Jisung can, but he’s not here. So instead, Hyunjin knocks over the glass of water on your bed when you shift into a more comfortable position.

“Of course it can,” you sigh again and blot as much water as you can with your tissues. You pull another one out of the box with more force than necessary and furiously dab your sheets. “First I get sick, then I miss a homework deadline that I can’t make up because my professor lost his heart thirty years ago along with his hair, then my boyfriend breaks up with me for like no reason, apparently I have an exam tomorrow, and now I’ve spilled water all over my bed, so I can’t even sleep. Thank you, universe. I really needed this.”

He immediately regrets his decision.

“Worst freaking week of my life,” you mumble as you throw away the wet tissues. Hyunjin almost reaches out for your arm when you pass by, but he retracts it just in time.

When you climb back into bed, you draw your blanket up to your chin and begin murmuring numbers. They come out calm and even at first, but they become more tense as time passes. Hyunjin half-listens as he scans the contents of your desk. A laptop, a shopping bag, an open notebook with doodles on the margins, an uncapped black pen, and a pack of gum. He presses his forefinger to the point of the pen, drawing a tiny heart by touch. Then he stamps the heart among all your misshapen stars and imaginary flowers. You might just think it’s an ink smear, but he hopes you look at it and smile.  

You hit three hundred and forty-seven before you begin to sound drowsy. Hyunjin stands at the foot of your bed, watching as you finally drift off in the middle of three hundred and ninety-three. Serenity settles across your features.

“I’m sorry for what I did earlier. Good night and sweet dreams,” he whispers. He pats the corner of your bed before flying off into the night.

He needs to see Jeongin.

It was hard not to notice you when you were on a collision course with Jeongin. You were going too fast, and Hyunjin’s wings couldn’t carry him to Earth in milliseconds. With horror, he watched as you sharply turned the building corner on your skateboard and just barely jumped off in time when you saw Jeongin about to make the same turn.

“You okay?” Jeongin asked as he hurried to stop your runaway board.

“I should be asking you that!” you exclaimed as you followed him. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have veered that close to the wall. You’re not hurt or anything, right?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“Good. I can’t risk getting sued again.” Unsure of how to respond, Jeongin nudged back your board to you. You neatly stopped it mid-roll with your foot. “Thanks, by the way. See you around.”

“Yeah, see you.”

You kicked off, but before you left the area, you turned around and gave him a wave. Jeongin waved back, albeit more shyly than you. After a moment’s hesitation, he yelled out, “Be careful!”

“I’ll try!”

Jeongin laughed and turned the corner, looking at the brick wall with more wistfulness than most people usually did. Before he entered the building, he peeked around the next corner, as if he expected you to come speeding by again. You didn’t.

After that, he noticed you more often, usually swerving around strangers as you cut through campus. Whenever he had the opportunity to say hello, he did so with a smile, and you returned it with a waggle of your fingers before disappearing into the crowd. Once, you nearly crashed into a railing. You laughed it off and gave him another wave along with a funny face. Hyunjin felt something inside him melt. Jeongin must have too since he headed to his next class with the most lovestruck expression Hyunjin had ever seen on him.

It was then that Jeongin began forming a plan.

Two weeks after the first meeting, Jeongin waited in the quad for you to show up. Just as he hoped, you came walking down the steps fifteen minutes later, skateboard tucked underneath your arm. It was supposed to seem like a coincidence, but Hyunjin had followed Jeongin as he scoured nearby skate spots, asking around about you. Yesterday, he had learned where you liked to practice tricks. He got up from his bench, hands hidden behind his back, and approached you with the same moves and confidence he had rehearsed in the bathroom mirror.

“Hey! How have you been?” he called up from the very bottom.

Meanwhile, Hyunjin groaned. Jisung, who Hyunjin had tracked down two days prior to this, also did so.

“You said he was a charmer,” Jisung complained. “Look at him. He can’t even charm dogs with a treat.”

“For your sake, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Just wait though. It’s going to get better.”

Jisung huffed. “It better. She deserves the best.”

Fortunately, you took it all in stride and waved hello at Jeongin. When you were finally beside him, you answered, “I’ve been good, thanks. You’re not here to sue me, right?”

“No! I was actually wondering if you could teach me how to skateboard. If you have time, that is.”

“Really? But I almost killed you that one time. I mean, I’d be happy to, but it’s kind of weird after what happened.”

“I’d rather skateboard than walk, and you seem pretty good at it.”

You shifted your weight to one foot, and Hyunjin chuckled when he saw Jeongin’s eyes wander to your jutted-out hip. Jisung made a noise of disapproval.

“Okay, what is this really about?”

“Skateboarding,” Jeongin said. Then he took a step closer and held out a bundle of daisies towards you. “And lunch, if you want.”

You broke out into a grin. “I am a little hungry right now. L/N Y/N, skateboarding extraordinaire and ramen enthusiast, at your service.”

“Yang Jeongin, also a ramen enthusiast. Nice to officially meet you.”

Jeongin is still sleeping at his desk when Hyunjin arrives. He shifts and exhales when the wind from Hyunjin’s wings create a small breeze but does not wake.

“How could you break up with her?” Hyunjin says. “She’s amazing and wonderful, and you decide that you don't want to be with her? Sometimes I wonder what’s going on in your head.”

Silence.

“If I were human, I would have never done that, but…”

Jeongin shifts again, burying himself deeper into the crumpled hoodie he’s using as a pillow. The table squeaks, and a mechanical pencil rolls off the desk. Hyunjin quietly places the pencil back to its initial place and shuts off the lamp.

“Take care of yourself, and make good choices, okay? I can’t do that for you.”

Instead of flying back to Heaven, he perches on the roof of the building across from Jeongin’s. Jeongin finally wakes up and notices that his light is off. He glances at it confusedly for a few seconds, wondering if he misremembered leaving it on. In the end, he decides it’s not worth the effort and falls into his bed. He didn’t even spare you a thought, a crime in Hyunjin’s eyes.

Then he realizes he may have a bigger problem on his hands.

Jisung.

Jisung is going to be very upset when he finds out about this.

Over the weekend, you brought Jeongin to the quad to learn the basics.

“Put both feet on the board now,” you said as you walked alongside a skateboarding Jeongin. He was borrowing yours to practice, so he treated it with more reverence than a well-used board would need. Even though he was pushing with his back foot, he was going at a snail’s pace.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m going to lose my balance and fall.”

Perhaps it wasn’t reverence after all.

You shook your head. “No, you won’t. You’re not going that fast anyway. You can just step off if you really feel like you are. Give it a shot.”

To his credit, Jeongin lifted his foot a few centimeters off the ground before planting it back. “I’m going to lose control.”

While you did your best to persuade Jeongin to give it another try, Jisung gave Hyunjin a dissatisfied look. “I remember you telling me he was a daredevil. What is happening?”

He didn’t exactly know either. “He’s in front of his crush; give him a break.”

“These two better not end up dating. She deserves so much better than him.”

Hyunjin gave him a dirty look, Jisung gave him a “What? It’s true” type of a shrug.

You step in front of the board. “How about this?” you said. “You stand on the board with both feet, and I’ll pull you along so you can get used to the feeling and be less of a scaredy cat.”

“Okay.”

You took both of his hands and slowly guided him backwards. At the same time, you instructed him to put more weight on one side to change directions. Jeongin was surprisingly stable, and Hyunjin watched proudly as his human suggested that you increase your speed a little.

“See? It’s not bad?” you said. “Keeping balance isn’t that hard, right?”

“Yeah. Also,” he grinned, his meek demeanor completely gone, “we’re holding hands now.”

Your eyes widened as you glanced down at your joined hands, and you let out a delighted gasp. “You sneaky little—” Much to Jeongin’s alarm, you let go and smirked. “If you go past the bench without constantly pushing, I’ll let you hold my hand when you walk me home.”

“Kind of presumptuous of you to assume that I would offer to walk you home,” he teased, resting one foot on the floor. “Or is that what you want me to do?”

“You asked me to lunch with flowers. You were going to.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Then he kicked off, skating past the bench with ease. Still going, he looked over his shoulder and shouted, “Do you want to grab doughnuts before you head home?”

“Watch the lamp!” you yelled as you ran towards him. “Jeongin, stop looking at me and turn around!”

The collision with the lamppost was unavoidable, so Hyunjin simply watched as Jeongin took a flying leap off your board and took a tumble on the concrete. While you fumbled for band aids — Jeongin’s knee was scraped and bloody — Jeongin patted his pockets to check that his phone had not fallen out.

“So doughnuts?” he sheepishly asked.

“Sure. I’ll buy.” You finally found one hidden in the bottom of your backpack along with an alcohol wipe. “Guess you get to hold my hand after all.”

“How are you so prepared?” he asked, nodding to the contents you had unceremoniously dumped out whilst rummaging. “You have tweezers and gauze?”

“My mom made me carry a first-aid kit with me when she found out that I skate to class. It comes in handy.” You ripped open the package. “This might hurt.”

“You can kiss it to feel better.”

You laughed and pressed the alcohol wipe to his knee. “You’re such a flirt, I love it. Does it hurt?”

“Yeah, hurts a lot.”

You opted to kiss the band aid instead, causing Jeongin to pout and Jisung to sigh in relief. When you stuck it onto his skin, Jeongin made a big production of being relieved from pain, which made you laugh and shove him.

“No! She’s in love with him,” Jisung groaned. His wings drooped, and Hyunjin swore his halo actually dimmed when you kept your hands in Jeongin’s after you pulled him up. “Well, Hyunjin, looks like you and I are going to be best friends.”

Hyunjin personally saw no issue with that. Like Jeongin, he had been charmed by your antics and your easygoing nature. Protecting his human’s friends, family, or lovers wasn’t part of Hyunjin’s duty, but he felt compelled to watch over you too.

Because if he were human, he would have fallen in love with you too.

In the midst of his lamenting, Jisung flies down and sits beside him on the roof. His wings are still slightly gray, and Hyunjin strangely begins to feel self-conscious of his pure white ones.

“Didn’t the Archangel forbid you from doing frivolous things?” Jisung says in lieu of a greeting. “I saw you at her apartment earlier.”

“I just wanted to check up on her. Not that I thought you lied,” he hastily adds. “I wanted to see for myself. She’s a little… distraught.”

“She got into a fight with her boyfriend. It’s normal.” When Hyunjin doesn’t reply or even make a sound, he grows concerned. “Is it something else? She’s getting sued, isn’t she? I knew it was going to happen someday. When I find that smug richie-rich, I’m going to—”

“Jeongin broke up with her.”

“What.”

Hyunjin repeats his sentence, trying to block the view of Jeongin’s bedroom with his body. Jisung looks like he’s ready to rain judgement onto him, and while Hyunjin is rather good at his job, he’s not sure if he can hold back an enraged guardian angel. Jisung takes several deep breaths before regaining the little composure he can muster.

“I knew I hated him for a reason. I knew he didn’t deserve her,” he spits out, though the venom in his voice wavers. “Why would he even break up with her? She loved him so much.”

Hyunjin shrugs. “That’s what I want to find out.”

“When you find out, let me know. I’m going to see her now.”

Hyunjin stays on the roof until sunrise. Jeongin sleeps without any trouble, and when he wakes up, he looks fresh-faced, no guilt hanging over his head. Hyunjin feels something inside him cracking apart.

You truly don’t deserve this.

“Do you think they’re going to crash and burn?” Jisung asked as he studied you and Jeongin walking through the park, practically glued to each other’s sides. “I think they’re moving too fast. It’s only been a month.”

Hyunjin really didn’t care about that. As long as you and Jeongin were happy, he was happy. “A month is a pretty long time for them. Mortal lives are short.”

“Exactly. They should be more selective about their life choices.”

Hyunjin only rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to you. You were pointing at the tiny carousel in the middle and tugging at Jeongin’s sleeve. You dragged him over and pushed a coin into the slot for the ride. The lights lit up and a carnival theme played while you struggled to wedge yourself between the saddle of an elephant and the roof of the carousel. Jeongin sat on the edge, beside the tiger, and chuckled at your flailing limbs.

Hyunjin suppressed his own laugh. You were something special. Just last week, the two of you had made it official and started dating. You had done it in the sweetest possible way.

You had taken him to a local skateboarding shop to help him pick out his first board. Once he had chosen one — the ‘one’ being a light blue deck patterned with multicolored doughnuts — the staff at the shop sent him to the back to try it out. Meanwhile, you made the age-old excuse of needing to use the restroom when you were actually getting the flowers you had hidden in the back.

Hyunjin had turned into a pile of fluff when you gave Jeongin the daisy bouquet and asked if he wanted to officially be your boyfriend. You were so earnest. Jeongin playfully pretended to think it over, a feat Hyunjin knew he wouldn’t have been able to do if he were in his position. There were no fireworks or confetti when Jeongin finally said yes, but the staff did clap and cheer. Jisung looked on with contempt. Hyunjin looked on with envy.

“You know,” Jisung abruptly said, snapping Hyunjin back to the present, “when her last boyfriend broke up with her, she had ice cream for dinner for a week.”

“Oh.”

“You see why I’m being wary of him now?”

Hyunjin did, but Jeongin was different. His previous relationships always ended well, and on one occasion, he remained friends with his ex. He sighed and decided that a change of topic was necessary so he wouldn’t have to potentially endure a tirade. “Did you hear about Minho’s human? The bank he worked at got robbed, and he got held at gunpoint.”

That caught the overprotective Jisung’s ear. “What? Is he okay?”

During Hyunjin’s recountment of Minho’s recountment, the carousel ride ended. You squeezed out of your spot, hitting your head on the roof, and Jeongin pulled you in for a forehead kiss. The world grew brighter when you smiled, he realized.

Hyunjin shadows Jeongin around all day, hoping to learn the reason for the breakup. Unfortunately, Jeongin doesn’t say anything. He does show some regret though, as he scrolls through past messages and old pictures. When he heads to classes, he opts to walk instead of skateboarding like usual and avoids the quad whenever possible.

In the evening, while Jeongin is chewing on his salad like a cow to cud, Hyunjin pays you a visit. He finds in the freezer section of the grocery store with three pints of ice cream in your basket. From the looks of it, you’re about to add another three to your haul. Peanut butter pretzel sounds equal parts delicious and confusing.

Hyunjin studies your expression, frowning at the same time you do. Your eyes are ringed with red, your jaw tight, and your eyebrows seem permanently furrowed. When he follows you back home, he half expects you to start crying on the way, but you hold fast and manage to open a pint of the salted caramel flavor before the tears finally come. There’s no wailing, just sniffling and the sound of you furiously wiping at your face with the sleeve of your hoodie. In the midst of it all, you find the strength to reorganize the freezer to make space for the other pints. Something about that makes Hyunjin’s heart drop.

By the time your roommate discovers you in the kitchen, the entire refrigerator has been reorganized and the ice cream finished. You sit in a dark room, your finger hovering above the ‘SEND’ button of a message to Jeongin. Hyunjin can see it if he flies above you: “Can you please just tell me why? You keep saying you did something wrong, but I don’t even know what it is. Please let me decide if it’s worth breaking up over.”

“Rough day?” she gently asks as she flips on the switch.

“Yeah.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Maybe tomorrow. I just wanna process it right now,” you hollowly say. You grab your skateboard — the same black, paint-splattered one you had last year — and unlock the front door. “I’m going out for a ride, but I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

“Stay safe.”

After you leave, Jisung phases through the kitchen walls and hisses at Hyunjin, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Jeongin?”

He nearly forgot about him. Eating dinner isn’t a dangerous task anyway though. Besides, if Jeongin does get physically harmed somehow, Hyunjin will feel an echo of the pain. Hyunjin glances at the door, and Jisung shakes his head.

“I’ll take care of her. Go back to Jeongin, and make sure he’s okay. You can’t keep leaving him all the time.”

“Fine, I’ll go.”

“Good.”

Hyunjin reluctantly goes back to Jeongin, who is still eating his salad. His resolve from last night is clearly gone as evidenced by his melancholy expression as he scrolls through even more photos. The one of you in mid-air makes him clutch his phone.

“Let me get one of you when you’re really high up,” Jeongin suggested. He was comfortable gliding around on a skateboard now, but nowhere comfortable enough to try any tricks. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop you from trying to get him to learn. The “pop shove it” was your favorite, solely for the amount of height you could get.

“Okay.”

As you did over and over again for your enthusiastic boyfriend who was unfortunately not that great of a photographer, Hyunjin observed from a rooftop behind Jeongin. Sometimes you looked like you were flying. He could imagine wings protruding from your back, and if the sun hit you just right, there appeared to be a halo as well.

“I got one!” Jeongin exclaimed as he held up his device to you. “Look.”

Hyunjin couldn’t see for himself, but your mouth dropped into an ‘o’ once you took a first glance. A flustered smile made its way onto your face, and everything about you turned soft.

“This looks amazing,” you said. You sidled up to him and rested your cheek against his shoulder, turning your head towards him. “I love you.”

The words hung in the air for a few seconds as both Hyunjin and Jeongin tried to process them. This was the first time you had ever said them, and it came seemingly out of nowhere. Hyunjin recovered first.

“Say ‘I love you’ back, you moron,” Hyunjin whispered, like Jeongin would be able to hear him from this distance. “‘I love you too.’”

“I wanted to say it first,” Jeongin finally said. “Ugh, I had it all planned out too. We were supposed to get doughnuts after this, and I was going to buy you one of those heart-shaped ones.”

You kissed him on the cheek and intertwined your fingers with his. “We can still do that.”

At the doughnut shop, he said the words second, and you kissed him again, leaving a crystal of glaze on the corner of his mouth. Hyunjin licked his lips as if you had left it on him instead.

“Did you find out?” Jisung asks when Hyunjin leaves Jeongin to check up on you. You’re skating around the city, making sharp swerves and weaving in-between lampposts. Jisung is trailing behind you in the sky, but he slows when he sees Hyunjin approaching.

“No, but—”

“Then go back to him. Hyunjin,” Jisung sighs, “I know you care about her, but she’s not your human. Jeongin’s your responsibility.”

“I know but—”

“Go back. And I’m telling you this not as your friend but as your senior. You’re a guardian angel, and you need to take your responsibilities seriously. I’ll get the Archangel involved if I have to. Do you want to get Seungminned?”

The threat of the Archangel strangely doesn’t scare him anymore, however. In fact, the Archangel being involved may solve many of his current issues.

“I’ll find you again when I find out,” Hyunjin slowly says.

Jisung nods in approval before racing after you again. Hyunjin heads to Heaven, not to keep an eye over his human but to become human.

Ten months into Jeongin’s relationship with you, Hyunjin asked Minho, “Is it possible to give up your divinity?”

Minho gave Hyunjin a curious look. “Is being a guardian angel that taxing for you? You haven’t even experienced a full lifespan yet. I know, twenty year-olds are annoying, but it’s not nearly as bad as forty year-olds and their mid-life crisis.”

“I’m just curious. Or, as a last resort,” he added, hoping that Minho would stop being suspicious if he joked about it. “My human’s been making some dumb choices.”

A lie, but Minho fell for it.

“I told you he was going to be a troublemaker!” he cackled. He sympathetically patted Hyunjin’s back. “If I’m being honest, I thought about it a few times. I always get assigned to the troublemakers. Probably because the higher-ups hate me for not tolerating their BS. They’re always playing favorites. Anyway, the easiest way is to get expelled by the Archangel. It’s happened a few times before.”

“Can’t you just ask him?”

Minho smirked. “You don’t think other angels have tried that? He only expels the ones who don’t want to be. It’s supposed to be a punishment.”

“What’s the hard way then?”

“Same thing minus the Archangel getting involved: your wings getting cut off,” he matter-of-factly answered. “The halo will break once your wings are detached. It’s only been done once, by the way.”

Hyunjin absentmindedly rubbed the area where the bones of his wings met with his shoulder blades. All he needed were two clean cuts across his practically impenetrable back.

“How do you do that?”

“With the Archangel’s sword. Another angel has to cut it though; you can’t do it yourself.”

The Archangel would likely banish him to Hell for even asking about his weapon. If Hyunjin ever did manage to steal the sword away, Jisung would never agree to it. He couldn’t just ask any angel to help him.

“How do you know about all this?” Hyunjin asked.

Minho hesitated, something he rarely did. He quickly recovered, hiding his sudden apprehension with his usual devil-may-care nonchalance. “I can’t give away all of my secrets.”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Friends. The word hung in the air like the sun, and Hyunjin knew that Minho would tell him because underneath all of his bluster was loneliness. Because no one liked Minho, or if they did, they still avoided him anyway.

“Yeah, we are,” Minho answered, smiling for a second before a strange expression crossed over his face, pride mixed with a touch of sadness. “Do you really think the Archangel would have expelled one of his favorite guardian angels that easily?”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Seungmin. He asked me to cut his wings for him.”  

“I need you to cut my wings,” are Hyunjin’s first words to Minho after not speaking to him for days.

To his credit, Minho is only speechless for a few seconds. The dove in his hand pecks at him for more headpats before he recovers. “Well, do you have the sword?”

“No, but I think I can get it. When I do though, would you do it? You’re the only one I trust.”

Minho sighs and tosses the bird out of Heaven, grimacing a bit when he hears it squawk. When he faces Hyunjin, he smiles the same smile he did when he talked about Seungmin. “It’s always me, huh? I’ll do you one better. I’ll steal the sword for you. The Archangel’s been pissing me off anyway.”

For once, Hyunjin’s thoughts are not on you but his friend. He imagined that Minho would be willing, but perhaps he’s too willing. “Are you trying to get expelled as well? We can go together.”

“No, I like being immortal. I hate all of the BS I get put through sometimes, but the Archangel can’t kick me out. He swore an oath to me a long time ago before he got promoted, and it’s pretty much unbreakable. Besides, even Heaven needs a scapegoat.”

That explains why virtually no angels interact with Minho, Hyunjin being the exception. He has never heard of the Archangel being oathsworn, though it seems likely that the Archangel wants to keep that a secret.

“How are you going to get it?” Hyunjin asks. “How did Seungmin even get it? The Archangel always has it with him.”

“Seungmin was one of his favorites,” Minho reminds him. “He had easy access to him, and the Archangel trusted him enough to let him borrow it for ‘a study.’ Don’t worry about me though. Just wait for me on Earth. Somewhere where no one goes. I’ll find you, slice off your wings, and the Archangel won’t even know what happened to you.”

“That’s not possible. He always keeps it on him.”

Minho shrugs, a gleam in his eyes. “I’ve done it before. Why do you think I’m the scapegoat?”

Seungmin. For Minho and now Hyunjin, being Seungminned didn’t mean being expelled for being frivolous anymore; it meant leaving of your own accord.

“What happened to him?” Hyunjin asked. “Why didn’t the Archangel grant his divinity back? Someone should have spotted him on Earth.”

Minho’s wry grin was back. “You think the Archangel wanted everyone to find out the golden boy of Heaven no longer wanted to be an angel? Plenty of angels already saw him roaming Earth. It was easier to let everyone think that Seungmin was banished. So when they saw him on Earth, he was just a fallen angel, nothing important.” He nudged Hyunjin’s arm, and the solemn atmosphere vanished. “A troublemaking human isn’t all that bad. Like I said, the twenties are annoying, but they’re manageable. Is he one of those partying types?”

“He goes out sometimes,” Hyunjin carefully replied. Jeongin liked hanging out with his friends and you — mostly you, now that Hyunjin thought about it — but he wasn’t getting blackout drunk every night. At least, Hyunjin hoped he wasn’t. He usually watched over you if you were ever in the vicinity. “Speaking of which, I should check up on him.”

Minho said his goodbyes, and Hyunjin flew back to Earth once he saw that you weren’t with Jeongin. You were studying at your desk, rolling a pen between your fingers, reading through a document on your laptop. The desk light casted a warm glow on your face. You frowned, and your lower lip swelled outwards.

He wished he were human.

Just as Minho said, Hyunjin waits for him to arrive in a secluded part of the university campus. The building rooftop is devoid of anyone, and the area surrounding it is empty as well. The evening turns into night, then night into the early morning when the sky begins lightening. Still, Minho has not come.

He distantly wonders how Jeongin is faring and his promise to Jisung. When he’s human, he’ll ask Jeongin directly, maybe in disguise of a survey: “Why did you break up with your last partner?” Even to him, it sounds stupid. However, that’s not the real reason why he’s giving up his divinity, so it hardly matters to him. Jisung is resourceful; he’ll find out eventually.

Finally, when the sun peeks over the horizon, Minho descends from Heaven, a familiar silver sword in his hand. He lands beside Hyunjin, a triumphant smile on his face. But his usual humor has been replaced with solemnity.

“You’re sure about this?” he asks as he rests the blade on the top of Hyunjin’s wings.

He has never felt so sure of anything in his life. “Yes.”

“It’s going to hurt.”

“Then make it quick.”

Searing pain shoots through his body as the sword pierces through the thin skin and into the bone. The process is not as nearly as seamless as Hyunjin hoped it would be, and Minho breathes heavily as he pushes the blade down. Bones snap, feathers drift to the floor, and blood trickles down his back. The pain only grows greater near the end, but Hyunjin grits his teeth and keeps quiet. Dawn breaks when his wings finally fall to the floor, no longer white but splattered with red. Soon they fade into dust, and the remnants scatter into the wind. His golden halo shatters into sunlight. The world dulls as the last of his powers disappear, but everything feels much better than when he was an angel.

“Thank you,” he whispers to Minho, who he cannot even look at anymore. His eyes would be burned.

“You’re fallen, not quite mortal and not quite divine. You won’t be affected by all of an angel’s power.”

When Hyunjin cautiously glances at him, Minho waves the bloody sword at him. “See?”

“Yeah.” He wanted humanity, but this is good enough for him. He just needs you to be able to see him, hear him, touch him.

“I need to go back before Heaven becomes Hell, but find Seungmin if you can. He can help you figure things out. Last I heard, he’s living somewhere in the mountains.”

“Thank you,” he repeats. “Minho, I can’t even put it into words about how much this means to me. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

Minho pats his shoulder before stripping off his clean shirt. “Clean yourself before you leave. No one wants to witness a walking crime scene this early in the morning.”

When he flies back to Heaven, the last thing Hyunjin sees are his wings, still pure white.

“Hey,” you said as you laced your fingers with Jeongin’s. He had just finished class, and you had waited for him outside the building. Hyunjin had sat on the other end of the bench, savoring the proximity. That was the closest he would ever get to you. “Are you busy tonight? The skate shop just announced — literally an hour ago, those jerks — that they were doing a midnight drop, and I kind of want a new deck.”

“Ugh, I’ve been meaning to buy new trucks, but I have to meet up with my group tonight. Send me pictures though.”

Disappointment only momentarily flooded through Hyunjin. If it was anything like the last two meetups, it would be at the library, and the library was a safe place. Jeongin would be fine there. Hyunjin would be free to shadow you as you went to the skate shop.

“I can get it for you,” you offered.

He shook his head. “It’s fine. Maybe I’ll just wait for a sale.”

“Don’t be surprised if I do get you new trucks,” you warned. You let go of his hand and held his arm. “I still owe you for last month’s dinner.”

Jeongin shook his head again, a smile making its way onto his face. “You don’t owe me anything but a kiss.”

“Flirt,” you laughed as you pressed your lips to his cheek. “Never change, Yang Jeongin.”

That night at the skate shop, Hyunjin hovered above you as you stood in line, chatting with others. There were no unscrupulous characters around, but he stayed with you, only going back to Jeongin when Jisung insisted. However, by then, Hyunjin had already seen you eyeing the shiny teal trucks through the window. Hyunjin knew nothing about skateboards even after all those months, but you seemed pleased by them.

“You’re only getting trucks for sure?” your brand new acquaintance asked. “This is, like, the biggest drop they’ve ever done.”

You shrugged. “I’m kind of on the fence about the decks I saw on the email. I don’t know. Maybe wheels too?”

Meanwhile, Jisung hissed, “Hyunjin, go before something happens. What if a fight breaks out?”

Hyunjin sincerely doubted that one would happen at the library. He lingered around, taking his time unfolding his wings and stretching them.

“Your boyfriend’s lucky,” your acquaintance sighed.

“Nah, I’m the lucky one.”

Daisies, that’s what he needs right now. Choosing the rooftop of a building was not a smart decision, but the access door is thankfully unlocked, and Hyunjin races down all of the emergency stairs. However, with no form of currency on him, Hyunjin heads to the quad, hoping that he can pull up some dandelions for you. You need to be supported, and bright yellow flowers are just the thing.

What he doesn’t expect though, is to find you doing pop shove its at your usual spot. It’s so early in the day; did you even go back to your apartment to sleep?

“Good morning,” he calls as he walks closer. He waves at you, and you can see him! You tentatively wave back and give him a halfhearted smile. “How are you today? You look beautiful.”

“Thanks, and I’m fine,” you politely reply as you take a step back away from him. “What about you?”

Hyunjin curses in his head and takes another step towards you. “I’m good. Really good, actually. I was wondering if you could teach me how to skateboard. I’m new here, and skateboarding seems like an efficient way to get around.”

You flinch at his words, and he desperately wants to take them back. How did Jeongin do it? Why do his statements come out so stiff? “You seem pretty good at it.”

“Are you not cold?” you blurt out. Hyunjin curses again as he realizes that he’s shirtless. His old one was stained, and Minho’s was as well as the result of his cleanup. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. “You know, I have to get going, but it was nice meeting you.”

“Hyunjin. My name’s Hyunjin.”

“Nice meeting you, Hyunjin.”

You grab your board and immediately head off to the direction of your apartment. Hyunjin is tempted to follow, but he stays where he is. A bad first impression isn’t the end of the world. The only thing holding him back is his lack of a shirt.

He wanders through the quad, scanning the grass for some flowers. Most of them are the white, fluffy dandelions, but he needs the bright yellow version. However, he takes the white ones anyway in case he can’t find any. The wind scatters the seeds, and he—  

“Hyunjin, I told you not to come back.”

Jisung.

Hyunjin turns around, dropping his bouquet onto the ground. To his horror, not only is Jisung present but also the Archangel. His sword is strapped to his side like usual, not a blood splatter tainting it. Minho did an excellent job of cleaning up the crime scene.

“Jisung, Archangel,” Hyunjin nervously greets. The Archangel frightens him now. “How can I help you?”

“Jisung, why did you bring me here?” the Archangel asks. “I have other things to attend to.”

“He’s abandoned his human too many times, and I don’t think he’s fit to be a guardian angel anymore.”

The Archangel grasps the hilt of his sword and studies Hyunjin, up and down, back and forth. He circles him, and Hyunjin can almost feel his mortality-divinity shining through his body. Jisung hasn’t noticed yet, but there is no doubt the Archangel hasn’t.

“Normally,” the Archangel begins, “the punishment for not fulfilling your duties as a guardian angel is being expelled from Heaven. But you have already fallen.”

“What?” comes Jisung’s shocked voice.

“It was a mistake,” Hyunjin tries. Minho’s words ring in his ear: He only expels the ones who don’t want to be. “I thought I wanted humanity, but I’ve realized that being a guardian angel is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Please. Grant me my divinity back. I will never abandon my human again. I will swear an oath if I have to.”

The Archangel smiles with no teeth, and a chill runs down Hyunjin’s spine. “I’m in a forgiving mood today, so I will do just as you ask. Your divinity will be granted back, but you will no longer be a guardian angel. I’m stripping you of those powers and those duties. You will be replaced immediately. It was my mistake for tasking you with such a large responsibility when you weren’t ready yet.”

With just a snap of the Archangel’s fingers, Hyunjin’s senses sharpen, and the world comes hurtling at him. Nothing is dull anymore, but everything feels so dark and wrong. You will never be able to see him, hear him, or talk to him again. And he will never be able to either. Power surges inside of him, and new wings burst through his shoulder blades, fanning out once they reappear. A silver halo hangs over his head. There is no physical pain into becoming immortal again, yet he wishes there was something. Everything he and Minho did was erased with ease.

Hyunjin swallows the lump in his throat. “Thank you,” he chokes out.

“You’re very welcome. Come along now. Only guardian angels are allowed to be on Earth.”

Hyunjin follows the Archangel back to Heaven while Jisung goes after you. The Archangel loudly deliberates on who he should be replaced with, and Hyunjin knows that his request was not granted with kindness. The Archangel informs that he will be a messenger again. Hyunjin barely hears him as he takes one last look at Earth. Jeongin is there. Jisung is there. You are there.

Hyunjin avoids Minho’s eyes as he flies inside the realm behind the Archangel and hides among the rest of the regular angels until he is called to send a message. The higher-ups recognize him, make snide remarks about his demotion, and make pitiful faces at him. He barely registers them. There is a hollowness in him, and no matter how many memories he recalls, it isn’t enough to fill the void.

A few weeks later, Jisung approaches him, but even he stays a healthy distance away. “Hyunjin.” The disdain is clear.

“Jisung.”

“You knew about the reason all along, didn’t you? You were there when it happened.”

“When what happened?”

Realization dawns upon Jisung, and he shakes his head in disgust. “I should have known. You weren’t with him that night because you left him like you always did! You could have done something. Make him fall off his chair or something. Make the girl lose her balance. Instead, both of our humans suffered because you weren’t there.”

“What happened?”

“A girl from his group project randomly kissed him, and he thought he had been leading her on and cheating on his own girlfriend, so he broke up with her because he thought that would be the right thing to do instead of just telling her what actually happened. They’re back together now because he finally got the nerve to give her closure. It took nearly a month. They were miserable for a month. All because of you.”

It stings. “They’re okay now, right?”

“They’re fine, no thanks to you.” Just when Hyunjin thinks he’s going to leave, he takes a step forward, lips curled into sneer. “You know, angels and humans aren’t allowed to be with each other. It’s been forbidden for millenia.”

“I know,” he whispers. “But I loved her, and I had to try.”

“She would have never chosen you anyway.”

He never had a chance, did he?

~ ad.gray

Yes, you did! I remembered it and wondered if you were going to come back! Hope you enjoyed this! <3

#stray kids #skz #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #stray kids angst #skz angst #hyunjin angst #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz fanfic #skz scenarios #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin x reader #guardian angel au #anniversary special #20210816

[honeypiehotchner]

kiss me on the mouth and set me free (Damon Salvatore x fem!Reader) -- one shot

Hi my lovelies! I know this is not my usual content whatsoever, but I’ve been watching TVD with my best friend (@treat-winchesterswith-kindness​) and she was begging for a Damon smut, so this is the result. And I have to say...I enjoyed the hell out of writing this one xx.

Beta’d by @treat-winchesterswith-kindness​ and @a-radical-notion <3

Warnings: (Birthday) SMUT! (Slight) virginity kink, Daddy kink, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), biting (of course), size kink

Damon’s fingers touch gently underneath your chin, tilting your head, forcing your eyes to meet his. Not for compliance, he’d never do that to you. But for attention, for focus, for sincerity. He wants you to know his true intentions, the kind that only you can see when you’re looking into his eyes.

The usual mischief isn’t there. Instead, swirling in his eyes, are the softest emotions you’ve ever seen. The most genuine. The warmest.

Slowly, you nod. Your silent, willing compliance. Your silent, please.

As he leans forward to connect your lips--

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

Your dream is ripped right out from under you by the smirking vampire standing in your bedroom. “Damon, what the hell?” You sit up in bed, rubbing your forehead. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Yikes, what’s with the attitude? My feelings are fragile, you know.” He grabs a pillow off your floor and hugs it to his chest as he quite literally falls onto the reading chair you have by your window.

Your only response is a glare.

“Come on, do you not know what day it is?”

“No,” you mutter, dropping your hands onto the bed in defeat. “What day is it?”

His expression is surprise, sadness, and unamused all at once. “Your birthday.”

“Oh,” you chuckle. You guess that is today. You’ve been so busy lately. You knew it was coming up, but you weren’t aware it was coming up this quickly. And now it’s here, and you have no plans.

Or at least you thought you didn’t have plans.

“Up, up, up,” Damon orders, waving his hands at you as he stands. “We’re celebrating, you’re not allowed to say no. Up.”

One thing you’ve learned about being friends with Damon Salvatore is that once he’s set in his ways, he isn’t budging. So, despite feeling like lead has been injected into your bones, you let him drag you out of bed -- literally. He reaches both hands out and you accept, wrapping your fingers around his and allowing him to tug you to your feet.

You and Damon have always been close. More than close, actually. You’ve never kissed or anything, at least not on the lips. He kissed your forehead once when you were sobbing over something. You kissed his cheek once in public when a guy wouldn’t stop hitting on you. And the two of you have held hands before, but more as an “I don’t want to lose you” measure in large crowds. You love concerts, and Damon does too (especially rock) but he hates the crowds because he hates losing sight of you.

You wouldn’t be surprised if everyone just assumed you and Damon are dating. You know the two of you aren’t -- because he’s definitely had sex with other women while you’ve been friends with him -- but you also know his behavior might lead others to believe otherwise. You also know that’s kind of his whole intention.

He’s protective. It’s what he does best. When you’re next to him, no one who isn’t your friend will look at you. And when you’re not with him, you’ve noticed the number of people who approach you with ill intentions has considerably decreased.

Once you’re known indirectly (or directly, you guess) as Damon Salvatore’s girl, no one comes near you. Exactly how Damon likes.

You don’t mind it. You hate being bothered. You’re surprised you let Damon bother you for as long as you did before you caved. You can’t lie, you liked it. You liked him. You still do.

But Damon isn’t the settling down type. He’s not the type to be monogamous, at least not from your experience. You do wonder at times what his goal was whenever he’d tell you about his sexual encounters. It wasn’t like he was bragging, but you couldn’t help but feel like he was trying to get a reaction out of you.

So, obviously, you didn’t give him one.

Damon doesn’t always get what he wants. He just thinks he does. And you like to make him believe that.

“Are you ready yet? I’m starving,” Damon calls from the hallway.

You roll your eyes. “No. And you can’t be starving, you’re dead.”

“I know,” he smirks, sauntering into your room. “Look at you.”

“Look at me?” You scoff. “I wore this outfit last week.”

“Yeah, but you look...hotter, I don’t know. Maybe it’s your birthday.”

You roll your eyes again, a habit you do most often when you’re with Damon. “Whatever. Where are you taking me?”

“Oh, just, all your favorite places.”

“You’re full of shit, Damon.”

+++

After a full day of doing all of your favorite things, most of which Damon hates, by the way. You have no idea why he’s been entertaining you all day, but you’re assuming it’s only because today is your birthday. He’ll go back to his usual self tomorrow and hang out with you only when it doesn’t involve things he hates doing.

“Which one of your comfort movies are we watching to end the day?”

You eye Damon skeptically from the kitchen. He’s currently on the couch, flicking through Netflix lazily.

You don’t want to question any of this until tomorrow, so you tell him which movie to queue up, and you hear him muffle a groan.

You return to the living room with a giant bowl of popcorn, plopping it in the middle of you and Damon. He presses play on the movie, and you eat your popcorn with a smile.

Of course, you should’ve known it was too good to be true for Damon to keep his mouth shut all day because about halfway through the movie, he drops the bomb you had been waiting on.

“So...you’ve really never had sex?”

You roll your eyes, but don’t respond.

Earlier today when the two of you were walking around, Damon kept pointing out cute guys. And they were cute, you’ll give him that, but you had no idea what his deal was. After five or six guys are pointed out, Damon asks you, “Come on, you’ve never had birthday sex? A one-night stand on your special day?”

You had laughed and shoved his arm, and confessed, “I’ve never had any sex, period. So no thank you. Can we please go?”

You knew it was way too good to be true when Damon dropped the subject immediately and moved on, letting you drag him away to your other favorite spot.

Of course, you should’ve known he was only waiting for the right time. You did know. Which is why you haven’t answered him right now.

But he keeps going.

“What about held hands? Kissed anyone on the lips?”

“First of all, you’ve held my hand, and second of all, of course I’ve kissed someone on the lips, I’m not a nun!” You lie.

He looks skeptical. “When was it?”

“I was…” He gives you the look harder, not compelling you, but might as well have been. “Fine. I’ve never had sex, and I’ve never had my first kiss. Are you happy now?”

“Of course I’m not happy!” He gives you another look, this one like you’ve gone batshit crazy. “You’re missing out on one of life’s greatest experiences!”

“And this is exactly why I never told you,” you toss a popcorn kernel at him, watching it bounce off his forehead. He looks up at it, but he doesn’t blink. “Not everyone thinks sex is all there is to life, Damon.”

“Okay, that’s not what I meant--”

“That’s exactly what you meant.”

“I just mean if...you’re waiting…”

“Please, stop. Talking.”

“You don’t need to wait.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Because I’m right here.”

You stare at him blankly. “What?”

He shrugs nonchalantly like he’s not the biggest manwhore around. “I’m here.”

“You’re joking. Quit fucking with me.”

“I’m not fucking with you-- Well, at least not yet--”

“Oh my God, shut up!” You laugh, swatting at his arm, hating the way you’ve gone hot all over.

Damon Salvatore is attractive. Scratch that-- He’s more than attractive. He’s the kind of attractive everyone says they want in a guy, but obviously, it’s too much to ask for, so they settle for a little less. You can’t ask everyone to look like a God, but Damon does -- though you’ll never let him hear those words leave your lips. Never.

The prospect of having sex with Damon has crossed your mind more than once. Probably a thousand times, if you’re honest, but you always knew it would never happen. He’s Damon Salvatore. First of all, he doesn’t do anything besides casual sex, and second of all, you’re pretty sure his sex only includes experienced partners. You don’t exactly fit either of those criteria.

You never even thought he looked at you that way. You figured if he had, he would’ve made more jokes or insinuated things. But he never has with you.

“I’m being serious, you know.”

At this point, fifteen more minutes of the movie have gone by. But you haven’t been paying attention.

“Can I ask why?” You say, keeping your eyes focused on the TV screen.

“Why what?”

“Why now? Why are you suddenly interested? Because if it’s just to get your dick wet, I will kick you out.”

“What do you mean suddenly interested?” He counters.

“What do you mean?” You fire back, finally looking at him. “The whole time we’ve been friends, you’ve had more one-night stands than I can count. You never flirt with me. And just today you were trying to find someone for me to have birthday sex with. Are you serious?”

“Okay, yes, I have had a lot of one-night stands, and yes, I was being...obnoxious today, but I have flirted with you.”

“Since when?”

“Since every day I’ve known you!” He cries. “Did you not notice?”

You slump back into the couch cushions. “Well, I guess not.”

More minutes pass. The movie plays and you try to pay attention, silently wishing the couch would swallow you whole right now. This shouldn’t be embarrassing, but it is.

“I’m not saying you have to have sex tonight, but whenever you’re ready...I’m here.”

“Of course you’ll always be there for that.”

“You know I didn’t mean it that way,” he says, and you would’ve brushed him off again if he wasn’t looking into your eyes so deeply, and reaching for your hand. Not in a way that insinuates anything, but for comfort.

Silently, you turn your hand over and let him hold it. “What if...What if I’m not ready for sex yet, but…”

“But?”

“But…” You sigh, averting your eyes back to the movie. “What if I want you to kiss me?”

“I can do that.”

You nod, but you don’t move. Your hand stays gently held in his, your eyes glued to the movie. You suggested it yourself, yet you’re nervous.

Distantly, you hear the bowl of popcorn moving to the coffee table. You feel the cushion beside you dip slightly as Damon scoots over. And then…

“You’re going to have to look at me if you want me to kiss you.”

You feel his fingers gently lifting your chin, turning your gaze toward him.

“Are you sure?”

You roll your eyes, not as harsh this time because you’re too busy buzzing with the fact that his fingers are still on your chin. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

“Okay, okay,” he teases, his thumb stroking your jaw.

He moves slow, not wanting to rush you, but he moves so slow that you wish he’d use his speed. Before you can make a comment about it, though, his lips are finally on yours.

Kissing isn’t what you expected. But since it’s with Damon, it’s amazing.

He still moves as slow as possible, his hand moving from your chin to your jaw, cupping your face, pulling you closer. You have no idea what to do with your hands, so you leave them in your lap, curled into fists.

Damon pulls back, pecking your lips once, then twice, before finally pulling away.

“How’s that for a first kiss?”

You don’t bother responding. Instead, you grip his shirt in both hands and pull him back to you, kissing him harder. A growl releases itself from the back of Damon’s throat, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip in retaliation.

You open up for him instantly, fists releasing his shirt when his tongue strokes into your mouth gently. His hands find your waist and squeeze, massaging your skin, tugging you closer until there’s practically not even a centimeter of space between the two of you. You wrap your arms around his neck, a small whine leaving your lips when he pulls back.

“Damon…” You whisper, your vision hazy, but in the best way.

“Look at me,” he says softly, his lips ghosting over yours.

You blink slowly, looking back into his eyes. “Hm?”

“Do you want more?”

You nod pathetically, still annoyed with him for stopping.

“Words, little one,” he taps your nose with his index finger. “What do you want?”

“More,” you say almost instantly. “I need more, Damon.”

“More it is,” he smirks, giving you what you need.

You inhale deeply when he kisses you, and when you exhale, your breath fills Damon’s lungs. Your fingers thread through his hair at the base of his skull, your arms keeping you steady around his neck. His lips devour you in every form of the word, claiming you, coaxing you to open up to him. His hands tug on your hips, pulling you into his lap, straddling his legs.

Your comfort movie plays on the TV in the background, the volume turned down, but still there. Somehow, it makes more of your nerves melt away. Damon’s touch makes the rest of them disappear.

Damon pushes your hair back from your face as he holds you captive with his kiss. Another nip to your skin and he pulls back.

“I want more,” you blurt, “but I’m not a one night stand.”

“You are most definitely not a one night stand,” he replies softly, pecking your lips. “If you want more, I’ll give you more.”

“Give me more,” you all but demand, rocking your hips. “Now.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tightens his grip on your hips, stopping your movement. “Just because it’s your first time doesn’t mean you get to do whatever you want.”

You fully stop your movement out of surprise and annoyance. “Why not?”

“Because…” He thumbs the pout from your lips. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Damon,” you groan. “Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean I haven’t fingered myself.”

He chuckles lowly, grabbing one of your hands and lifting it up into view. “I am a lot bigger than your fingers, princess.”

You shudder at the nickname and fail to hide it.

His usual mischievous smirk stretches across his lips. “You like that?”

You nod. No use in trying to hide it.

“Princess,” he murmurs. “What do you want?”

“Fuck me,” you say proudly, already tired of the teasing.

He smooths his hands down your arms. “That’s not asking nicely.”

“Please, will you please just fuck me already?”

“Nice of you to say please,” Damon replies, pressing a kiss to your lips. “But I need to get you ready first. Don’t pout, kitten. Come on.”

He shifts his weight to lift you up, laying you back on the couch. Slowly, your pants are dragged down your legs. You wait for him to take your panties, too, but he doesn’t.

You lift your head, but Damon stops you before the comment leaves your mouth. “Patience, princess.”

You throw your head back into the pillow with a groan, one that quickly morphs into a moan when he mouths your clit over your panties. His tongue darts out to tease your hole through the fabric, smirking into your pussy as you squirm. He thumbs your clit before massaging your lips.

“There we go,” he murmurs. “I can feel you getting wet, and that’s what we need, Princess, I don’t want to hurt you...not unless you ask.”

A flash of a wet dream you had a few nights ago, where Damon’s mouth was in your neck, his teeth breaking skin only barely, but enough to taste.

“Did you just get wetter? Oh, Princess…”

The sound of ripping fabric fills your ears when Damon’s teeth tear your panties away. The sudden cool air on your wet pussy causes your hips to buck, and Damon’s hands promptly push them back down.

He crawls up your body, briefly paying attention to your collarbones and neck, daring to nip there, but not breaking the skin, and leaving as quick as he came.

His entire body covers yours as he leans down, pressing sweet kisses to your lips, smirking when he finds your lips already parting for him. And when your hands find the buttons on his shirt, he chuckles, but keeps kissing you, fiercer now as you unbutton every last one, leaving his shirt hanging wide open.

“You feeling good?”

“Do you really need to ask?”

“Just checking, baby,” he coos, kissing both of your cheeks, then your nose.

He slides back down your body, settling over your hips. Now, without the barrier of your panties, you can feel his breath on your pussy. Before you have time to process that feeling, though, Damon is diving in headfirst -- literally.

Damon is not a stranger to going down on a woman, and it’s actually his favorite thing in the world to do.

He doesn’t even try holding you down. One arm is stretched across your hips, while his other hand is busy massaging your lips, coating his fingers in your wetness. You expect him to thrust his fingers into you then, but a loud moan has you looking down to see Damon’s fingers in his mouth, tasting you.

He opens his eyes and catches yours, smirking around his fingers as he pulls them out of his mouth. “You taste good.”

You scrunch up your nose, earning a laugh from him.

“I’ll make you taste one day, kitten, you might like it.”

“Hmph.”

“Don’t start pouting now,” he says, keeping his eyes locked with yours as his fingers trail down to your entrance. “Just one for now, Princess,” he whispers, spreading your lips and pressing in.

One isn’t much, so all that you feel is pleasure and heat in your core.

“More,” you whine, lying back down, breathless. “Please.”

“There’s my good girl,” he coos, kissing your hip bone. “Asking so nicely. I’ll make you feel good, don’t worry.”

Another finger enters you and it is a bit of a stretch, but still not much. He was right, his fingers are bigger than yours -- and you’re sure his cock is bigger, too -- but it’s still not enough.

“More,” you cry, the word breaking into a choked moan when he scissors his fingers, opening you up.

“There it is,” he smiles, leaning down to flick your clit with his tongue before sucking gently on the bundle of nerves. He continues scissoring his fingers until he hears your moans growing quieter, and that’s when he adds a third finger.

Now you feel the stretch, but it isn’t painful. Your moan is louder than you expect, your back arching off the couch, and Damon swears for a second he might’ve stumbled upon an angel.

A small whimper leaves your lips when he curls his fingers, pressing into your g-spot ever so slightly. Not hard enough for immense pleasure because he doesn’t want to wear you out immediately, and he knows you aren’t used to that level of pleasure -- not yet at least.

He pauses his assault on your hip bone, never biting hard enough to leave a mark, to return to your clit. He’s not sure if you know it, but you’re close. He can feel your walls fluttering and squeezing his fingers, the tell-tale signs.

Once you feel his mouth back on your clit, sucking and nibbling gently, you’re blinded by the pleasure that crashes into you. It’s as if the skies opened up and struck you with lightning straight from the sun.

When Damon moans into your pussy, the vibrations send waves of pleasure through your every fiber, and you have no choice but to cum all over his fingers.

Something you do when you’re pleasuring yourself is you stop almost immediately, but Damon continues, milking every last bit of your orgasm until you’ve calmed down. He leans his head on your hip while he continues massaging your walls until he can pull his fingers out without hurting you or startling you.

The emptiness you feel when his fingers leave you is a little startling, but only so much so that you need something else inside of you. Which is why while he’s busy sucking on his fingers again, making a complete mess, you’re sitting up and tossing your shirt over your head.

“Woah,” Damon says around his fingers, his eyes widening when your bra comes off, too. “Hello.”

You almost glare at him. “I need you inside of me.”

Damon raises an eyebrow, licking his lips. “Pardon me?”

“Please,” you groan. “Please, I need more, I…”

“Shhh,” he shushes you, his fingers massaging soft circles into your thigh. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

He nods. “Lay back, Princess. I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

You obey, mostly out of exhaustion than compliance, and Damon knows that. You’ve always been a bit of a brat, but he’s seeing even more of it tonight.

He makes a show of shrugging off his shirt, watching you watching him, your arm bent underneath your head to prop you up. One leg is up and the other is down, and you look like Heaven.

Damon undoes his belt and tosses it away, taking note of the way your eyes follow it all the way to the floor. You don’t even look back to him until his pants are hitting the floor, and him stepping out of them catches your attention again. Black boxer briefs are all that is left, and they’re barely containing him.

He loves how intently you’re watching him. The genuine curiosity sparks in his eyes when he pulls his underwear down, kicking them aside. You blink slowly, marveling at the sight of him. He’s...pretty.

“Like what you’re seeing, baby?”

You nod slowly. “Mhm. Taste?”

“Next time,” he promises, kneeling on the couch, pushing your legs apart. “Tonight is all about you, Princess.” He presses a kiss to your lips to seal the deal, and you accept it, reminded of how empty you feel now that your legs are spread again.

You go quiet when you feel his cock nudging your entrance. He stretched you, but he feels so big.

“Is it...Is it gonna fit?” You ask, your arms wrapping around his neck again for support.

“I’ll go slow,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead, cheeks, nose, and chin. “You tell me when to stop, okay?”

“Okay.”

He kisses you again, sweeter and softer this time, but it’s only a distraction for when he initially enters you. He could tell you needed the distraction, and he was correct.

When you begin to feel him, your nails scratch his skin and he stops, staying there, waiting for your word.

He goes slow as promised every time you ask for more, and stops whenever you say so, or when your whimper is louder than expected.

Soon, though, he’s fully seated inside of you, and you feel sufficiently full. At peace. And ready for him to fucking move.

“Move, please, Damon, I need you to--”

He pulls out slightly and snaps his hips, knocking the breath out of you. He watches your face, but there are no traces of pain, only pleasure.

A rhythm slowly forms, one that you enjoy, until you need more and when you ask for more this time, Damon doesn’t hold back.

So much so that it forces a new name from your lips.

You didn’t mean to say it, but when he stops moving out of surprise, you can’t help but whine it once more. “Daddy, please.”

“God,” Damon groans, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. The rhythm this time is slow and dizzying. “Say it again.”

“Daddy,” you whimper instantly, bucking your hips, pulling him in deeper.

“Just like that,” he murmurs, lips ghosting over your vein. “You have no idea how hard it is not to just…” He pauses, letting his teeth graze over the sensitive skin there. “And when you call me that…”

“Daddy…” You cry out, feeling him nudging against your cervix.

“My sweet little girl,” he breathes. “Letting me take her virginity. That’s my Princess, my baby…” His teeth graze your skin again, teasing you, and then…

“Please,” you mumble, closing your eyes. “Do it.”

He freezes, and you feel it, but you’re tired of him freezing, so you wrap your hand around the back of his head, pressing his mouth into your neck.

“Do it,” you repeat, even more breathless. “Please.”

Damon can’t resist, not when you feel this good wrapped around him, when you’re begging, when you’re pushing him closer, yearning for it.

He speeds up his rhythm, chasing his high. He doesn’t trust himself to cum with his teeth in your neck, but he can cum right before, and sink them in while you’re cumming. The pain won’t be as intense while you’re mid-orgasm.

Almost as soon as you feel Damon’s seed spilling inside of you, your back is arching, your own waves of pleasure shooting through your body, your second orgasm of the night capturing you. And when you least expect it, because you assumed he had decided against you, Damon’s teeth sink into your neck.

It’s a feeling you’ve never felt before, but it’s one you’ll be asking for more often.

Your body relaxes, Damon’s now half-hard cock sitting snugly inside of you while he drinks from you, and when he finally is done, you’re floating blissfully.

You catch only a glimpse of his face before it returns to normal, and he kisses you gently to get your attention.

“How was your first time?”

“Amazing,” you murmur, scratching gently at the base of his skull. “Really...amazing.”

“Do you want me to move?”

“No,” you shake your head. “Stay.”

“Okay, well I need to pull out of you, but then we can cuddle.”

“Fine,” you huff, dropping your arms from his neck.

Slowly, he pulls out of you, leaving you empty once more, despite the pleasure still thrumming through your body. “You can warm my cock another time, okay Princess?”

“Hmph.”

He stands and shakes his head. “Alright, it’s nap time for you.”

You look up hopefully. “Bed?”

“Yeah, come on.” He slides his arms underneath your legs and back, lifting you up bridal style.

You’re asleep in his arms before he even makes it to your room.

#damon salvatore #the vampire diaries #damon salvatore x fem!reader #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore x you #damon salvatore x y/n #damon salvatore smut #damon smut #damon salvatore fanfiction #damon salvatore fanfic #damon salvatore oneshot #damon x reader #damon x y/n #damon x fem!reader #damon x you #smut #tvd #tvd smut

[rubysunnday]

it’s a bugs life | bridgerton!sis

A/N: I. AM. BACK, BITCHES!!!

Gregory Bridgerton had a slight obsession with animals and bugs. He loved the bugs he found in the garden of Bridgerton house, often collecting the caterpillars and spiders to put in shoeboxes that then lived in his room. Most of his family refused to go into his room when there were bugs within its walls - Gregory had a habit of forgetting to close the doors or lids of whatever receptacle he’d put the bugs in and they often escaped for freedom, ending up in, normally, Daphne’s room - but Colin and Y/N were the two exceptions.

Colin, thanks to his numerous travels, had a soft spot for animals and bugs, like Gregory, and was the main sibling who helped Gregory in capturing and looking after the bugs they found in the garden.

Y/N didn’t mind bugs. She did, however, hate spiders and refused to be in the same room as one - there was an infamous incident a few years back where she’d fallen down the stairs in a desperate attempt to escape a spider, narrowly avoiding smacking her head on the floor thanks to Anthony’s diving catch.

Colin and Y/N’s unfazed nature towards bugs meant that Gregory favoured them both when he need help capturing a bug or animal. Y/N had been roped in to numerous muddy and rainy escapades to collect frogs or worms - she’d ruined many dresses much to her mother’s annoyance - but she secretly enjoyed getting dirty and cold and being able to see Gregory admire the bug in his room and name it something ridiculous. 

The funniest bug incident had involved Anthony, Benedict and a baby bird.

 It’d been a particularly stormy day and Anthony had forbidden Gregory from even thinking of going outside to collect any type of bug. Anthony had sat down in his chair with a satisfied smile, knowing that his little brother wasn’t going to come back in covered in mud with a dozen new bugs.

Naturally Gregory hadn’t listened.

Y/N had been quietly reading a book in the main room when she’d noticed her youngest brother sneak down the stairs, several shoeboxes in hand. She looked over at Anthony, who was having a passionate ‘discussion’ (”It’s not an argument, Y/N,” Anthony said, whilst glaring daggers at Colin, “it’s a discussion”.) with Colin about why he couldn’t just flounce off to Wales for the week, and shut her book, quietly sneaking out the second door and following after Gregory.

“Gregory,” Y/N hissed as she caught him struggling to unlock the back door in the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

Gregory turned around and batted his eyes, looking like an angelic, innocent angel and not a mad, bug obsessed annoying human. “There’s a frog.”

“You have a frog,” Y/N replied, crossing her arms. “Why do you need this one?”

Gregory paused. “Well, there isn’t actually a frog,” he tried again. “I was looking out the window and spotted this baby bird on the ground, hiding under a bush.”

“Bird’s like the rain, Gregory,” Y/N reminded him, pushing herself up onto the counter near the door. “Besides, its mum will probably come back soon.”

“I don’t think it will,” Gregory said, leaning in to Y/N as if he was about to whisper a huge secret. “Its wing looks broken and I saw a fox.”

Y/N sighed and closed her eyes. She needed to not be so easily roped into things. She needed to build up a wall that couldn’t be broken and that no one could -

“Fine,” she said, jumping off the counter and grabbing the gardener’s jacket from the hook by the door. She pulled it on, buttoning it up as high as it would go and pulled the hood up. “Fine, come on.”

The wind ripped the door out of Y/N’s hand and it slammed against the wall. She ushered Gregory out the house and then forced the door shut, pulling it against the wind. Gregory quickly made a beeline to a bush near the side gate, kneeling down in the wet, muddy grass and setting his shoebox underneath the bush.

Y/N, knowing her dress was already ruined by this point, knelt down next to him, feeling the mud seeping through the material of her dress. The hood of the jacket had been blown down and her hair was soaking wet and falling out of it’s intricate styling.

Underneath the bush, cheeping nervously at them, was a tiny, baby bird. It’s left wing was hanging down slightly and looked to be at an awkward angle. Y/N reached her hands out and gently held out a finger for the bird to inspect. It hopped back a few steps, nervous of the newcomer in front of it. After a moment it hopped forward and cheeped, nudging Y/N’s finger.

Y/N took that as a sign and cupped her hands together, gently scooping the bird up and placing it in the shoebox which Gregory was holding out for her.

“Gregory!” 

Gregory swung around, falling on to his bum, at the sudden roar of his name. Anthony was marching towards them, struggling to keep his rain jacket on, holding the hood over his head as he glared at Gregory.

“I told you not to come outside!” Anthony yelled, pointing a threatening finger at Gregory.

Gregory looked down at the ground. “But -”

“No, there is no excuse -” Anthony trailed off as Y/N turned around, cradling the shoebox against her and protecting it from the worst of the rain. “Y/N.”

She gave him a wince of a smile. “Hello.”

Anthony looked like he might explode. “Inside, now.” He pointed a finger to the door but didn’t look away from his rebellious siblings. “Now.”

Gregory quickly stood up and ran inside, slipping on the step as he took the corner too fast. Y/N slowly stood up, shivering as the rain and wind began to get colder.

“Y/N, what were you thinking?!” Anthony yelled as she stepped around a puddle and approached him. “Out of all people -”

Anthony’s rant was cut off again as the biggest clap of thunder Y/N had heard in years went off directly over their heads. Y/N flinched and slipped on the grass, reaching an arm out to Anthony, refusing to let go of the shoe box.

Anthony grabbed her arm with one hand and wrapped the other around her waist, catching her before she fell into the mud. As soon as Y/N regained her footing, he marched her inside, pushing her inside the door and then slamming the door shut behind them.

Benedict was drying Gregory off with a towel and looked up as Anthony slammed the door. He let out a snort of laughter at his bedraggled brother and quickly looked away at Anthony’s scathing glare, busying himself with drying Gregory’s hair.

“What were you two thinking?” Anthony yelled, throwing his hands up. 

Y/N turned away from Anthony, only half listening. She set the shoebox on the counter and gently lifted the lid. 

“Y/N, are you even listening to me?” Anthony snapped. He went to continue his rant but was cut off by a quiet cheep. Anthony closed his eyes. “Please tell me that wasn’t a bird.”

“It wasn’t a bird,” Y/N and Gregory replied in unison, both giving the other a knowing smirk as Anthony let out a long, despairing sigh that only a big brother, who’d been putting up with his siblings for too long, could make.

Y/N picked the box up, turning around and showing her older brothers the tiny bird. “Gregory found it. It’s injured. I couldn’t leave it out there to be eaten!” Y/N exclaimed. She lowered her voice, nodding her head at Gregory. “He was going anyway, Anthony.”

Anthony took a step forward and looked down at the baby bird in the box. The bird cheeped as it noticed Anthony and hopped into a corner, burying itself in the moss.

Anthony sighed again. He looked over at Benedict, who had an arm around Gregory, the younger Bridgerton clinging to his side as he shivered.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Benedict said, shrugging. “We can get the gardener to look at it tomorrow morning.”

Anthony looked like he wanted to murder all three of his siblings. “Fine. Y/N get changed.”

And with that, Anthony took the shoe box containing the baby bird and disappeared from the kitchen.

“Did he just... did he just take the bird with him?” Y/N asked, staring after her brother with a frown.

Benedict chuckled, letting go of Gregory and wrapping a towel around Y/N’s shoulders. “He has a soft spot for animals, really,” he replied, rubbing her arms with the towel as she shivered. “Now, go get changed before you get ill.”

The baby bird was soon named ‘Anthony’ in honour of the eldest Bridgerton who had subconsciously adopted it for the few weeks it spent in his room as its wing healed. 

There had been numerous other bug incidents over the years. Y/N had fallen out of a tree trying to rescue a cat, Colin had been biting by an angry swan who’d refused to be rescued from the net it’d swam into and Gregory had broken his wrist as he chased away a fox trying to eat the chickens he’d insisted on Anthony getting for Audrey Hall.

The bug incidents tend to stay at home, however. Gregory rarely tried to collect or rescue animals or bugs from any of the garden parties of receptions he was allowed to attend - probably because he was scared of getting into trouble with the hosts.

The night of Lady Danbury’s birthday ball, however, was apparently an exception to this rule.

Y/N smiled and nodded as she listened to a lord (she had no idea what his name was) talk about politics. Colin was standing next to her and was nudging her every so often when he noticed her attention span wandering to other, more interesting things - even the chandeliers were more exciting to listen to.

Someone ran into Y/N from behind and she stumbled forward, almost dropping her glass of champagne. Colin grabbed her elbow, catching her with one hand as she turned to see who’d ran into her.

“Gregory, what -”

“Help me,” Gregory said, grabbing Y/N’s hand and dragging her away from the group she’d been talking to.

Y/N barely managed to shove her glass into Colin’s hand as Gregory dragged her through the ballroom and onto the terrace outside.

“Gregory, that was actually really rude,” Y/N said as he let go of her hand and stopped running. She looked at him and frowned, noting his panicked expression. “What’s wrong?”

“A duck is chasing me,” Gregory replied, his little face looking very serious. “It’s following me around and keeps... quacking.”

Y/N snorted. 

“It is not funny!”

“Oh, it is,” Y/N replied. “Why is this duck chasing you, then, brother?” 

Gregory squirmed and Y/N’s shoulders slumped. Whenever Gregory squirmed she knew that whatever he was going to say was going to be ridiculous or stupid. There’d been a time when he’d accidentally toppled a bookshelf onto her - long story - and he’d lied to their mother and Anthony about how it had happened. But one glare (well, attempt at a glare, Y/N was on the verge of passing out and was clinging on to Colin for dear life) from Y/N had him squirming and he’d told the truth.

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Gregory Bridgerton.”

Gregory reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a baby duck.

Y/N had no other word other than, “Oh.”

“It was stuck on the steps so I picked it up to help it down and then the mother duck started flapping her wings and quacking and then ran at me and I panicked and ran away,” Gregory replied, barely stopping for breath. 

Y/N let out a soft sigh and crouched down until she was the same height as Gregory. “Pass it here.”

Gregory carefully handed her the fluffy, chirping duckling. Y/N let it sit in her palm and stroked its head with her little finger. 

“Where did you find it?” She asked quietly, looking up at Gregory.

He pointed to the door the other side of the ballroom. “The pond over there.”

“Come on, let’s go put it back,” Y/N said, standing up and cradling the duckling in her hands. “It’s mum is probably worried.”

Y/N and Gregory walked back into the ballroom, weaving through the crowds of people.

“Y/N!” 

Y/N closed her eyes as her mother called her. She looked down at Gregory. “I’ll be back, go to the pond,” she said, ushering him off.

She turned around and plastered a smile to her face as her mother, Anthony, Benedict and a very unhappy Eloise approached with Lady Danbury and a man who looked slightly familiar but she couldn’t for the life of her remember why.

“Y/N, dear, this is Mr Williams,” Violet said, gesturing to the man next to her.

“Oh, yes, of course!” Y/N said, remembering that she’d danced with the man last week. “We danced together at Lady Christy’s ball, last week, didn’t we?”

Mr Williams nodded. “We did indeed, Miss Bridgerton. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Mr Williams held out a hand and Y/N suddenly remembered that she was, in fact, holding a duckling in her hands.

“Can you just give me a minute?” She asked. “I’m sorry.” 

She slid past Anthony and her mother, ignoring their confused stares, and quickly walked to the door Gregory was hovering at. She was vaguely aware of the fact her mother was sending Anthony and Benedict after her but the duckling in her hands chirped and she focused on the pond and the fact that she was still holding a duck in her hands.

Gregory led the way down the stairs and halted suddenly. The mother duck and eight other ducklings were at the bottom of the stairs. The mother duck quacked loudly and hissed.

“Alright, it’s ok,” Y/N said softly, slowly walking forward to the mother duck. She knelt down on the last step and lowered her hands to the grass. “Here’s your baby.”

The baby duckling hopped out of Y/N’s hands and quickly waddled over to its mother, chirping happily as it reunited. The mother duck quacked and turned to the pond, the nine ducklings following after it in a line.

“See, she was probably just scared you were going to take her other babies,” Y/N told Gregory, still kneeling in the grass.

“I was just trying to help,” Gregory said softly, looking wistfully at the ducks.

“I know,” Y/N said, ruffling his hair. “But how would you feel if some stranger came and took you away from mother?”

“Scared,” Gregory admitted.

“Exactly. But you did the right thing, Greg. Even if I did have to interrupt mother’s attempt at match-making,” Y/N muttered, glancing behind her at the house. Anthony and Benedict were hovering at the top of the stairs, trying to make it obvious that they clearly weren’t listening but failing impressively.

“Go on,” Y/N said, shoving Gregory back towards the house, “go annoy Hyacinth.”

Gregory smiled and ran up the stairs, pausing for a second to hug Anthony around the legs, surprising the man. Anthony hugged him back and patted his head with a frown.

Y/N stood up, wincing as her legs tingled at the sudden movement. She looked up at her brothers, both of whom were watching her with a great deal of admiration.

“What?” She asked, frowning.

“You’re a good big sister,” Anthony replied, holding out his arm to her.

“I know I am,” Y/N said, taking his arm and smiling as he rolled his eyes. “And you two,” Y/N linked her other arm through Benedict’s, “are amazing big brothers.”

“Colin will be sad he was left out,” Benedict replied.

“Colin stole my cake, he can be jealous for all I care,” Y/N muttered, remembering her cake with a fond sigh.

The obsession with bug’s never did stop for Gregory. When Colin returned from his travels, he would always sit down with Gregory and go through all the drawings and writing’s he’d done on the bugs he’d seen whilst exploring. 

For his fourteenth birthday, Y/N bought her younger brother a book with detailed drawings of every insect known to man. It’d cost her the equivalent of almost her entire dowry but the joy on Gregory’s face had been worth it. And it was on that day that Anthony realised that, maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t done such a bad job of raising his siblings after all.

#benedict bridgerton #Bridgerton #colin bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton!sis #bridgerton sister #platonic #platonic imagine #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #how the fuck do i tag again? #imagine #sibling reader #sister reader

[xlbrh]

Genshin Impact - First Kiss Scenarios

notes : okay okay this is a super cute request!! also thankyou so much for the love and support - i hope that you enjoy!!

gosh uni is starting again for me next week so updates may not be as frequent, but ill try my best to keep on top of them!

Genshin Masterlist

warnings : none

format : bulleted, headcanons, scenarios, fluff

pairings : diluc x gn! reader, xiao x gn! reader, albedo x gn! reader

word count : 1581

everything under the cut-

Diluc:

our sweetheart darknight hero

he’s not against affection, but he’s definitely a more private person

he would prefer most things to be kept to just you two, behind closed doors

that doesn’t mean certain nosy people *cough venti and kaeya cough* would refrain from asking him all the ins and outs of his personal life

one time kaeya would be asking away as usual, and that’s when he’d notice

‘damn, we haven’t kissed yet, huh?’

he would be sO CLUELESS up till then i swear

chances are he’d act on it a night after you both leave the angel’s share, as he accompanies you home

thankfully this one particular night there are no threats that would take his mind off of you

After checking up on business at the Angel’s Share and leaving the rest of the night to Charles, Diluc offers you a hand as he guides you away from the boisterous shouting and singing. His hand would fully envelop yours, providing a small sense of warmth in the otherwise rather chilly night. Thanks to it being rather late at night, the streets of Mondstadt remain somewhat barren, aside from the occasional drunk man stumbling around or the meowing of some of the neighbourhood cats you sometimes hear.

“Ah! Well, here we are then,”

You’d both arrived at the doorstep to your house, briefly releasing Diluc’s hand so that you could find your keys in your pockets.

“Are these what you’re looking for, love?”

You turned around to see your keys twirling around Diluc’s finger – the look in his eyes is one of amusement as a small smirk appears on his lips.

“Next time, be careful where you put them. Leaving on the bar top probably isn’t the best idea.”

A light blush crosses your face in embarrassment as you look away, Diluc moving around you to unlock your front door himself. Before you go to step inside he grabbed your wrist, his grip firm but soft. One hand worked it’s way up to your chin, tilting it so that your eyes would connect with one another. Diluc stared into your eyes for a moment before glancing down to your lips, where his gaze momentarily lingered.

“…May I?” Although his voice was deeper, it didn’t hold the usual strength – a subtle display of vulnerability in front of you. Moonlight shone down onto his pale face, displaying the sheer redness that lay across his cheeks.

“Of course..”

In an instant he connected his lips with your own, a little more forcefully than he probably would have liked, but by no means were you complaining. One of his hands held the back of your head to guide you delicately into the kiss, the other choosing to settle on your hip. Your own arms made their way to wrap around his neck, playing with his hair that fell down his back.  

He pulled away with a small smile on his face, one hand cupping your face while his thumb stroked against your cheek.

“Well, are you going to invite me inside or shall we stay out here, hmm?”

Xiao:

it would take xiao a very long time to properly warm up to any type of physical affection

but kiSSING???

this poor man gets embarrassed just thinking about it

to be honest it would take a while for it to cross his mind

one day he’d just be looking out at liyue and see a young couple share a short and sweet kiss

and then it would register – wait, i haven’t done that yet

he would have to psyche himself up for it big time, it wouldn’t be something just out of nowhere

most likely he would invite you to meet him privately – maybe a cliff top or the wangshu balcony where you find him mostly

it would be nighttime, with the stars lighting up the midnight sky

“You should have seen me fighting the hilichurls earlier! There was one that was exceptionally tough and…”

Xiao drowned out your voice from beside him in his own thoughts. He had asked you how your day had gone as a means of distraction while he tried to compose and prepare himself for what he had planned.

“-and then some treasure hoarders showed up out of nowhere and-!”

“Hey, (Y/N), can you close your eyes for a second?”

He cut you off mid sentence, unable to keep himself waiting any longer. You turned to him with a hint of confusion evident in your eyes before replying.  

“Ummm, okay then..? What’s going on, Xiao?”

He ignored the question as you did as he asked. Xiao’s nerves were rising through the roof as he approached you and turned you around to face him properly, his hands lingering on your arms gently. Slowly, they worked their way up to your shoulders, with one resting lightly on your next. At this point you began to get flustered yourself – it wasn’t like Xiao to initiate this sort of contact.  

“H-Hey.. what are you doing..?”

Both of his hands trailed up to cup your cheeks, tilting your head so that if your eyes were open, they would be staring directly into his. A light blush had adorned your face, not that the same couldn’t be said for his face. Xiao took a deep breath before leaning forward and connecting his lips with yours. With this you let out a small gasp – was this really happening right now? His touch was gentle, almost hesitant, and it didn’t take long before you melted into the kiss. One of his hands left your face, allowing for his arm to wrap gently around your waist while your own hands rested atop his chest, clutching at his shirt.

After a short while you both pulled away, equally nervous about what had just occurred. Xiao allowed his forehead to rest against your own, before finally speaking.

“You really don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

Albedo:

hmm hmm now this one is interesting

he’s probably slightly more comfortable with affection than xiao is

but that by no means makes him less flustered about it

although most people think he would probably think about this for a while before actually going ahead with it

i like to think this would be something quite spontaneous for him

sure, he’d probably do a little bit of, ahem, ‘research’ about it

he’d for sure ask either lisa and kaeya for some advice - don’t question me

but all in all it wouldn’t be something he necessarily plans out

chances are it would happen when you’re assisting him with his research in his office

he would have asked you to do a couple small jobs before him – with you both waiting to observe the results of his latest experiment

You opened the door to Albedo’s office, a large stack of books balanced between your arms. He had asked you to see if Lisa had any books related to his current experiment. You didn’t really have any idea what alchemical nonsense he was up to now, but if it made him happy then you were more than willing to help out every so often.

His gaze moved up from the vial in his hand to your form, a small smile formed on his face as he placed the vial down in a stand and strode over to you to help.

“Welcome back (Y/N). Judging from this amount of books, I imagine you managed to find what I was looking for?”

He took the books out of your arms with ease, your back finally relieved of the excess weight you’d been carrying.

“Mhmm, they should all be here. It took me a while to find them all, but I got there in the end,”

Albedo placed the books atop his desk, turning round to face you after you’d followed him over. With him being so observant, he noticed the slight tremors coursing through your arms, clearly from the strain of his task for you. Despite that you had the brightest smile on, the usual peaceful aura surrounding you that he loved to relish in.

“You know you can tell me when things are a bit too much to do at once.. right?”

His voice held concern that you’d only heard on a few occasions, although you tried your best not to worry him. Out of embarrassment you turned away, your face burning to the point where it could put a pyro vision to shame. A light laugh resonated from his direction – usually you’d laugh along with him but this time it just made you all the more flustered. So much so you didn’t notice a hand of his reaching up to the top of your head, patting it affectionately.

“Nonetheless I’m always grateful for what you do, so thank you,”

The hand on your head moved down to your cheek as he took a step forward and turned your head so that you were facing him, capturing your lips with his own. The surprise of the moment caused you to take a step back, your body hitting the desk he previously placed the books on to. When you came to your senses you found yourself melting into the kiss, one hand resting on his chest while the other lay on the desk, intertwined with his other hand.

The moment didn’t last for too long before he pulled away, placing a final kiss onto your forehead.

“Now.. let’s get back to work, shall we?”

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin headcanons #genshin diluc #diluc #diluc x reader #genshin xiao #xiao #xiao x reader #genshin albedo #albedo #albedo x reader