#expect the next few drawings to be on paper | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fandom-go-round · 6 months

Text

Realizing They're in Love: Reader x BG3

Warnings: Implied Internal Trauma, Personal Relationship Issues, Gross Stuff like Falling in Love

Astarion:

He argues with himself for a long time before love comes to mind. It’s bad enough that he’s starting to like you but love? That’s just going to make things even harder. Astarion feels like the more he tries to talk himself out of it, the worse it gets. You corner him after dinner one night and he smiles, turning up the charm. You ignore his nervousness, giving him a simple wooden box. He immediately fills with dread; you want something. Of course you do. He’s not expecting there to be a book inside, the next one in the series he’s reading. You assure him that you don’t want anything in return, giving him a gentle smile before heading to your own tent. His heart thunders in his chest, fingers trailing over the cover. He’s not in love, Astarion tells himself as he goes to start the book. He can’t be but… if he is, it’s not the worst feeling in the world. Not with you.

Gale:

He’s not against falling in love per say, Gale just isn’t looking. Honestly he’s not. This is more social interaction than he’s had in years and he’s not trying to fuck it up, thank you very much. That doesn’t mean he can’t forget himself, especially when you start asking him questions about magic. Gale loves magic most of all and he only realizes he’s been ranting after twenty minutes. He winces, scolding himself mentally and turns to you. You’re both sitting on the floor of his tent, sipping tea in the early afternoon. He fully anticipates that you’re going to half awake, bored to tears and doing something else. Instead, you’re staring at him with rapt attention, eyes bright and small smile on your face. When he’s silent for too long you ask him to keep going, asking if he’ll keep explaining. Gale is more than happy to continue, something warm in his chest. He hopes that you’ll keep looking at him that way even after he stops talking. And you do.

Halsin:

Loud barks and hoots draw Halsin’s attention, the druid looking up from his papers. You’re a bit away from camp, Scratch and the owlbear cub playing with you. The three of you are chasing each other and wrestling, the cub slamming into the back of your knees. Halsin watches you go flying before laughing and grabbing the cub as best you can. You half swing him around, Scratch barking as you send his friend flying. The owlbear cub gives a roar, rolling through the grass and you laugh, chasing after the dog now. Halsin can’t help but smile; you’re so kind of everyone around you and he enjoys that you can relax. He hasn’t been ignorant to the feelings developing in his chest, just focusing on different things. The warmth he feels only grows as he watches you and he vows to talk about it. Halsin is sure he recognizes the looks you send him; he just needs to find the right time.

Karlach:

She realizes she’s in love after a tough fight. Her blood is still pumping and she wants more enemies to show up so she can have an excuse to go wild. You’re joking around with Wyll on the other side of the battlefield, the warlock turning to say something to you. You offer a smile and begin to hike up the slope and trip. Karlach watches in slow motion as you land hard on your ass, sliding down mud straight into the river. Wyll is frozen on the edge of the bank and she quickly makes he way over, worried that you’re injured. By the time she gets over there, you’re laughing loudly, head thrown all the way back. Her heart skips a beat; you’re covered in blood and mud and all sorts of gunk but all she can see is the right smile on your face. She’s in love.

Lae’zel:

Lae’zel doesn’t call it love. It’s admiration, respect for your skills. There are very few people she would follow verses leading herself and she admits that you’re good at it. She also enjoys the sex and that’s always a bonus. The sun is just beginning to go down and you stop on the edge of a cliff to watch. Lae’zel turns to scold you (the group needs to get back to camp) but she’s struck by your figure. You look like a painting, noble and steadfast. Your face is determined but not tense, taking in the sunset. There’s something in your eyes, something softer than she expects and it takes her breath away. She swears to herself and turns away, missing the affectionate look you send her. She’s doesn’t call it love, even if deep, deep down she wishes she could.

Shadowheart:

Night has finally fallen on a long, long day. Shadowheart is thankful that you’re the one with her on first watch tonight; your silence isn’t looming as she prays and the sound of sharpening blades is soothing. There isn’t the need to fill the silence with noise and it feels calm in a way that’s unfamiliar. Usually she finds the night comfortable but cold, like an winter breeze. You’re like the night but warm, a balm on an open wound. She smiles as she watches you, not looking away when you meet her eyes. You smile and she’s filled with affection, even as her hand throbs. The pain is worth it; you make her feel truly seen.

Wyll:

You’re crouched by a small cave, voice low and arm outstretched. The group had just finished a fight, a camp overrun with bandits. Wyll scowled to himself, looking over the bodies strewed over the ground. The people had been innocent and he wished he had been faster. Movement catches the corner of his vision and he turns, watching as, slowly, a child comes out of the cave. They’re covered in dirt and blood but you smile and they take you hand. Wyll can’t the stop the soft look from coming onto his face as you begin the check for wounds. The world can be a dark place but you give him hope; it’s more than he deserves.

6K notes · View notes

voyeurmunson · 8 days

Text

In honor of 4/20. A lil shotgunning with Eds. Fwb.

18+ hoes warnings: smokin’ that good good 🍃 and ofc smut. Slight degradation

*******

“Never? You’ve never smoked before?” Eddie’s dark eyes widen on you as you shrug your shoulders nonchalantly.

“How? How is this possible?” Eddie continues with his dramatics, his jaw practically on the floor at this point.

“It’s not that big of a deal Eddie.” You giggle as you watch his expressions change from confusion to excitement as he jumps up off the couch.

“You wanna? There’s no way I can date a girl who hasn’t smoked. Come on, sweetheart. This is bad for my reputation.” Eddie jokes, making you roll your eyes.

“First, we’re not dating. Second, what reputation is that, Munson?” you tease.

“You know.. my uh- bad boy reputation. My super charming yet slightly mysterious drug dealer reputation?” he winks down at you, his words making you snort out a laugh.

“Oh, you’re mean.” he pouts, crouching down in front of you. “You don’t have to. But it could be fun.” His tone drops suddenly as his ringed fingers begin dancing across your exposed thigh. Your small skirt worn for this exact moment.

“You gonna help me, Eds?” you drop your tone to match his, watching as a slick smile spreads across his pretty face.

“Fuck yeah.” he grins, jumping up to retrieve his little lunch box from his room. He plops down on the couch, opening the metal box to reveal a small bag of weed. You observe him carefully, watching as he picks through the seeds and stems, breaking up the little pieces of green.

His tongue pokes out as he concentrates on filling the small rolling paper perfectly before bringing it to his lips, sealing it tightly. He reaches into his jeans, pulling out his zippo before glancing your way again. “Ready?”

“Almost.” you whisper softly before hiking up your skirt, swiftly moving to straddle his lap. Eddie hums in delight as you place your hands on his shoulder.

“Ready.” you purr, taking your bottom lip in your mouth, biting in gently. You can feel him beneath you, the zipper of his jeans rubbing perfectly against your clit as he pops the joint in between his lips. He inhales deeply, holding for a few seconds before releasing a cloud of smoke into the living room of the trailer.

You expect Eddie to pass it to you next but he draws it back to his lips once again, taking a large hit. His brown eyes land on yours as his free hand gently cups your chin, pulling you closer. You feel his soft lips brush yours and you part them on instinct, allowing him to exhale the smoke into directly into your mouth.

The taste is a familiar one, one you’ve tasted on his tongue so many times. It was stronger now though as you feel the smoke circulating through your lungs. Your eyes shut as you focus on the slight tingling beginning to tickle your brain.

“Baby.. uh- you might wanna let that go.” Eddie’s voice brings you back to reality and you open your eyes to see his head tilted slightly, watching you with curiosity. A warmth spreads across your body as you finally exhale.

“That was a big hit.” he chuckles as he takes another drag. This time you’re the one who leans in, gripping the back of his neck firmly as you press your lips back to his. A soft moan leaves his lips as you shove your tongue into his mouth, smoke escaping around the kiss.

You do your best to inhale but his fingers are now digging into your hips making it hard to focus on anything else. Your brain feels slightly fuzzy as you begin rolling your hips, pressing down onto his crotch, his dick hardening more with every second.

“Need you.” you mumble into his mouth, giggling as he almost tosses you out of his lap in an attempt to reach behind you, snubbing the joint out on the coffee table. Then his lips are back on yours, his hands roaming your body, roughly pulling your shirt over your head, revealing your bare chest.

“Fuck sweetheart, no bra.” Eddie groans, latching onto your nipple immediately.

“Just for you, Eddie.” you coo, allowing your head to fall back, the high making every sensation more intense.

“Mmm, good girl. Such a good girl for me.” he mumbles in between kisses to your hardened nipple. His words of praise have your panties soaked as you speed up, grinding even harder on his lap.

The button of his jeans presses hard against your clit making you let out a needy moan. “Fuck..” Eddie breathes, his hands suddenly gripping even tighter as he locks you in place.

“Right there, baby?”

“Yes, shit.” you whine, feeling the chill of the metal on your clit through the thin material.

“Use me, sweet girl. Want you to cum just like this.” Eddie burns, bringing his forehead to yours. You keep your eyes on him as you begin rolling your hips again, making sure to hit the perfect spot every time. Your hands tangle in his wild curls as you spreads your knees a little more.

Small whimpers and moans pour from your lips as you grind on him, each roll of your hips bringing you closer and closer. Your wet panties leaking through onto his dark jeans.

“Look at you, such a little slut, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes, Eddie.”

“Is my little slut gonna cum for me?”

“Mhmm, so close.”

“There we go, baby. Just like that. Don’t fuckin’ stop.” Eddie mumbles drunkenly, panting heavily as he helps you pick up speed, your wet pussy gliding up and down his clothed cock.

“Want you to cum too..” you whimper, your nails digging into the back of his neck as you bring yourself right to the edge.

His firm hand slaps your ass hard making your head fall forward, letting out a little squeal into his neck.

“Fuck Eddie!”

“Faster baby.” he growls in your ear.

“Wanna cum, cum with me please.” You beg, aching for your sweet release. Wanting more than anything for him to reach it with you.

“Eddie please, I’m gonna- fuuck.” Your hips jerk violently and your teeth sink into his neck as you let go, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.

“Sh-shit…” Eddie stammers, his cock twitching suddenly beneath you, making a mess of the inside of his pants. You ride out your high, rutting against him pathetically.

“Holy shit.” He breathes as your hips slowly come to a stop.

“Mmmm… Happy 4/20 Eds.” you sigh as you collapse onto his chest.

He chuckles breathlessly, kissing your temple.

#eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson smut #Eddie Munson blurb #eddie munson x fem!reader smut

755 notes · View notes

melrodrigo · 14 days

Text

friends? - cairo sweet

Cairo Sweet x Reader

Summary: A new class leads to some heated feelings

Warnings: Finally wrote an enemies to lovers, they’re academic rivals ur honor, my writing, cairo being a meanie, quite an excessive use of italics

Word Count: 1k+

A/n: wanted to practice some, tell me what u think? do you want a part two?

“Cairo Sweet.” You read aloud, scrolling down your class list for the next year. Winnie —your best friend since childhood—laughs quietly at the sound.

“Funny name.” She mumbles when you quirk an eyebrow at her.

There was no reason to think ‘Sweet’ was a weird surname; however, Winnie, at the moment, was high out of her mind, so you let it go.

“Jacob Weinstein, Sophie Bell, Anthony Smith—god I don’t know any of these people!” You whisper, the slightest bit of anxiety creeping in.

Your first day is tomorrow, and you’ve sworn to yourself not to check who is in your specific class, wanting to try to spontaneously make new friends.

The keyword was try, because god you were bad at small talk.

Even in her mellowed state, Winnie could tell the nerves were settling in. She reaches out and draws you towards her, sitting so you’re facing each other, only a finger away from completely pressing into one another.

She swirls the lollipop in her mouth around, angling your head to look her in the eyes.

“It’s gonna be fine. Don’t sweat it, please? It makes me sad to see your pretty face in distress.” She spoke evenly, making you feel like you had steady ground to walk on, helping you come back to earth. You let out a deep breath, one you didn’t know you were holding.

“You’ve got to stop flirting with anyone and anything that moves.” You tell her, lightheartedly. She had helped taken the edge off, for now.

Bless her heart, Winnie’s reassurance lasted about until she left for her own home, leaving you alone with your thoughts in the big lonely house you had to call home.

It takes a book, or maybe two, for your eyelids to flutter shut, comforted by the smell of old paper and the feeling of coarse parchment.

Walking to school is no different. You listen half-heartedly to whatever Winnie decides to babble about this specific morning, your mind elsewhere.

As you near the doors of your next class, Winnie gives you a quick wink.

“Good luck soldier.” She says, smiling an almost teasing smile.

The minute you push open the doors you’re taken by surprise. It was fairly early, and though you expected no one would be there yet, there was a girl sitting smack dab in the middle of the class. Her head rested on her hands, staring blankly at the chalkboard in front of her.

You walk up silently to the desk behind her, far enough so you weren’t in the first few rows, but close enough that you wouldn’t be sitting with all the slackers in the back.

You slip out a book, kick your feet up to rest on the wooden table, and relaxed slightly. She seemed to pay no mind to you, and didn’t seem to want to pay any mind to you.

After a few pages in, you realize you’ve been reading the same sentence over and over again, not quite comprehending the letters that now looked like a random jumble.

There was a sinking feeling starting in your stomach, as if something were twisting and screaming for your attention.

Table or chair, wind or sun—you couldn’t quite figure out what it was that was bothering you.

Your eyes wandered from the page to your surroundings, trying to pinpoint what it was.

You must’ve been making quite some noise, because the girl in front of you turns around, an obvious distaste on her face. The moment you lock eyes you feel it.

Ah, I know what it is now.

It seems almost silly to say, but you could swear, she was the root of your problems.

There was an almost inimical aura about her, the way she acts—the flick of her eyes, the slight clench in her jaw, her rigid robotic posture—was enough for you to cower.

Of course, you had never even talked to the girl, but you could tell all at once, you weren’t going to be good friends.

“Could you stop moving so much? It’s distracting me.” She tells you, in a manner too rude to be a real request.

Her eyes narrow when you don’t answer. You had elected instead to stare at her freckles, ones that littered her face. Not counting your current feelings for her, you couldn’t deny it, she was beautiful.

However, the way she was acting now was more than enough for you to be sure she was not someone friend-worthy, and you ignored her remark.

In a quiet retaliation, you wait till she titled her head back that you scratch the rug beneath you with the heels of your feet.

It creates a faint screeching sound. When the mysterious girl turns back once again, this time with fury in her eyes, you avert your eyes and look around the room, whistling.

You could tell you were pushing her buttons, but oh boy if it wasn’t just the most fun. If it weren’t for the sound of the door opening you’re positive she would’ve gotten up and confronted you.

In walked a short, scruffy, middle-aged white man whom you concluded must have been the teacher.

“I didn’t expect anyone to be in yet. Students aren’t usually thrilled to learn my class.” He said, sounding pleased with himself to have two new focused students.

“I’m quite excited to see how it’s going to go, I’ve never learned with a favorite author of mine.” The girl spoke, this time with no venom in her voice.

The professor let out a strangled sort of squeak, obviously caught off guard.

Great. She’s also a suck-up.

“Well, i’ll be damned. I’ve never met someone that’s read my book— other than my wife. Although I’m not sure if she even read the whole thing.” He said, failing to hide the excitement and disbelief he was surely feeling.

“I thought it was amazing commentary on modern marriages and love through difficult times.” She said, the light from outside lighting her hair up a lighter shade of brown.

Blah, blah, blah. Someone save me.

As if hearing your prayers, another student entered the room, effectively cutting off that godforsaken conversation. More pupils start filling up the class, and even though you can tell the professor wants to keep talking to the brunette, he steps up to the small platform.

“Good morning class, my name is Mr. Miller, and I’ll be teaching you english literature.” He announces, voice full. You can tell he’d practiced this beforehand.

Your plan to make friends, to both your joy and dismay, get crushed almost immediately. There are no group activities or opportunities to even speak to the other people in the class, all attention directed to the front while Mr. Miller scrabbles on the chalkboard.

The brunette’s name, you learn, is Cairo. She manages to be the first person to raise her hand, to challenge Mr.Miller, to question almost every single thing on the board.

And even though that nagging feeling you felt when you first saw her is gone, you let yourself dissociate and simply stare at the girl. If the class was going to be boring, it wouldn’t hurt to have some eye candy, would it?

“Now, who can tell me exactly why Orwell chose to use these sets of words? What do they give to the overall tone of the book, umm-y/n?” Mr.Miller called, looking from his list of students.

You stir in your chair uncomfortably; you have not been listening to him. The air had turned very cold; your heart picking up its pace.

“I don’t know.” You mumble after a while of every face turned your way, impatience in their gaze. You shrink into your seat.

You hear a little scoff from ahead of you, coming from none other than Cairo Sweet.

You bite back an insult, and try to ignore the disappointed murmur that comes out of Mr.Miller.

Before you know it the hour is gone, and the sound of books stacking against one another breaks you out your daze.

Winnie’s waiting for you outside the door, quite creepily, you tell her as you walk together to your next class; a subject that you both have.

“So, how was it?” She nudges you lightly, smiling expectedly.

You flash her a tight lipped smile, then let it drop when you know she’d be able to see right through you.

You grip her arm and lean in closer, checking around you.

“There was this one girl, she was horrible!” You whisper, a new spark of energy flowing through you at the prospect of telling Winnie about it.

“She was the BIGGEST teachers pet, and she said something so rude to me before class, so like we were sitting and…” You continue to recount the story, trying your hardest to recreate Cairo’s glare.

When you get done, you turn to Winnie, waiting for her to join in on your gossiping.

“So am I going to witness an enemies to lovers type of thing right in front of me?” She sighs, exasperated.

You’re so shocked you don’t follow her into the class, stood rooted to the spot at the door.

“Wait, what?”

#cairo sweet #cairo sweet x reader #millers girl #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #wednesday addams x reader #enemies to lovers #melrodrigo

455 notes · View notes

chaethewriter · 1 year

Text

You're dead to me [1]

Dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader

In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?

warning: english isn't my first language, angst, fluff, barely proofread, kinda rushed, prologue type of part.

Word count: 1,9k

next chapter

previous chapter

"Daddy daddy look what I made!" When Jake Sully entered the room, he was met with a pair of sparkling eyes staring directly at him, paper in hand as you jumped up and down in excitement. He closed the door with his hands before he moved them back to the wheels, rolling himself forward carefully as he had their dinner on his lap. When you headed towards him, your tiny feet stepping towards him in small baby steps, Jake Sully already knew he had to remove anything available on his lap for the tiny human that was about to jump in his arms. He quickly put the plastic bag to his side and opened his arms to welcome his adopted daughter in his arms. "Daddy daddy!!", your squeals filled the air as you pressed yourself against his body. Jake Sully had to steady his body for the huge amount of impact a tiny human like yours could give, but once he seated you comfortably on his lap, he couldn't help but lift you up to his face, his arms around her body to hug her close as she was kneeling on his lap. "Hi babygirl, did you make something for daddy?", he brought his lips towards your chubby cheek to blow a raspberry against your skin. Tons of giggles left your lips as you nodded your head to his question, "I drew daddy and me!" You held onto his shoulder to steady yourself with one hand before you brought the drawing in front of his face. Jake Sully had to squint his eyes to get used to the closeness, the little girl, that was you, basically pressing the drawing into his face. Another pair of giggles left your lips as you waited for his reply. He turned you around on his lap and you immediately took a seat, your short legs dangling against his. Jake took his time to analyze the drawing. It was incredibly messy, as expected of a six year old. A few scribbles in different colors. Something that is supposed to look like a rainbow? But in the middle, there he was. Jake sully himself. He was sitting on something that looked like a chair and his little girl was there, right on his lap. The drawing was very abstract, but it made his heart flutter nonetheless. "And you drew this all by yourself? You did this all by yourself?" One hand is held onto the drawing while the other was wrapped around your stomach.

"Yes daddy!! I love you daddy!!"

You, (Y/N) Sully, prior (Y/N) (L/N), were confused. Where did your daddy go? You were young, age 8 when he left you on earth. You didn't understand why. Didn't he love you? But he always made sure to remind you. Kisses, quality time, cuddling. He took you in when mommy and daddy died, so why is he suddenly leaving you? He told you it was for work, something important that would give the both of you a good life. Give you a good life. But you didn't care about anything of that. Being with your daddy already made you feel like you were living your best life. Painting with daddy, eating with daddy, cuddling with daddy. But he told you to be patient and that he would return to you soon. Yet, when was soon? You grew impatient, even though you yourself knew that it wasn't kind of you to be like that. He took you in when you were an orphan and took his time to care for you, even though he was paralyzed and having a hard time himself. You completed one another, because you both needed each other the most at the same time. So you tried you best to stay optimistic. Your daddy loves you, so surely he will come soon for you, right? But days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Then he missed your eleventh birthday. The neighbors Jake Sully was close with took care of you instead during the time. They were like your auntie and uncle, but they weren't your daddy. When two years passed, you decided to call it quits. He wasn't coming back for you. You were thirteen at that time, old enough to understand the reality of the world. A teenager without any goals is what you were, the light and will left your eyes the moment your daddy left you. You hated carrying his last name, yet couldn't bring yourself to change it back to your original surname.

The decision to keep your last name was the reason they found you. They, are a resistance group going against the destruction of Pandora. Pandora. The planet your daddy went to and never came back from. Like the reckless thirteen-year-old you were and not thinking about consequences at all in this terrible world, you went with these unknown, potentially dangerous, people to their underground base. There you were answered all the questions you had and wanted to ask. It was normal that you were curious about your dad, but tried to be nonchalant about it. Him leaving you wasn't a big deal, not at all. Why would that be a big deal? But you couldn't fool anyone with that type of behavior, as the liteaunant explained further than the questions you actually asked. Much more personal information. A daughter will always miss her dad after all. You learned that your father, Jake Sully, was still alive and one of the people. A painful way to know, from someone else, since it felt like your father indirectly slapped you in the face with an 'I don't care about you'. "Alive and well", were the words she told you. Alive and well your ass. When you were asked to join the program to protect Pandora, the indigenous and its nature from the greedy governments that tried to destroy it. The same governments that already have destroyed their own planet: ignoring global warming. Proceeding to pump gas from under the ground, bringing animals in danger, and destroying the nature humanity needs to even breathe. You couldn't lie, you wanted to decline. Saving the world and all sounded good and all, but you never wanted to do anything that even indirectly involved you so-called father. When money and status were involved, it started to sound interesting in your eyes. Ironic, the same way your dad left you. Like father like daughter, one could say. Yet, this was your chance to show everyone what you could turn out to be.

So, accepting is what you did. You soon started training, but it was no usual military training. You all learned about life on Pandora, you and the others that had potential in them learned to live like the people of Pandora: the bow and arrow, spears, but also hand-to-hand combat if anything were to go wrong. The training honestly went great, you didn't regret accepting the offer one bit. You felt fit and worthy, and most importantly you found people around you that cared for you. The liteaunant that guided you from the start was like a master to you. Not in an authority kind of way, but a respectful bond between two equals. You had friends that went through this entire process with you, telling each other about their lives and how they ended up here. While they were almost like warriors following orders, every night the group would sneak away to be like teenagers again, kids having fun and playing games. For a long time, it was the same routine. Wake up, eat, and train for almost the entire day, do homework, have dinner, sneak out, and sleep. You hated that homework so much, but knew that you needed to master everything you were given. It was to learn the language of the people, Na'vi. This felt like when you had to learn languages in high school, but ten times worse as you didn't even finish high school. "Oel nati kamy?", your voice sounded unsure as you tried to say the formal way of greeting someone in Na'vi, but you earned a slap against your forehead in return from one of your friends. "No, it's Oel Ngati Kameie, skxwang!"

Years of training together ended up being so worth it, because when all of you reached the end of your teenage years, it got announced that you were finally ready. You felt so delighted to know that all of your hard work paid off in the end. You knew everyone had a hard time trying their best to teach you the language of the people, so you were so thankful for everyone around you to get you where you are right now. Everyone worked so hard for it. As a parting gift, your liteaunant gifted you a katana. "It's to protect yourself, and always think of me", she joked to you, but the both of you could feel the heavy tension in the air. The grip on your katana tightened as you dropped your bag on the floor. You finally wrapped your arms around her, forgetting about the warrior exterior, that facade falling for just a moment. She didn't hesitate to hug you in return, "thank you for everything." You had whispered into her ear and pulled yourself together, being the first one to pull away from the hug. You knew that if you didn't let go now, you would second-guess jumping on your flight to Pandora. "Come on (y/n)!" Your friends already boarded and you were the last one left on the flat grounds. "Go on, child. You deserve this. And remember what I told you!" You don't reply, but only flash her a smile as you run after your friends with the katana and a bag. You all follow your superiors' suit, putting your stuff where they tell you to. With no seconds left to spare, they immediately tell you to follow them to your tubes, you were getting put into cryosleep. You still couldn't believe it. They were going to put you to sleep for six years and you're gonna wake up looking the same, but temporarily living in a dream world you trained your entire teen years for. You lay down in your tube, ready to get put to sleep. The nerves were truly getting to you. "See you on the other side!", you jokingly said to lift up the mood, and your friends started joking around, telling one another goodbyes and what they should do if one of them doesn't wake up. You just lay there quietly, waiting to get put to sleep as your mind starts wandering. You kept thinking about your leatiunant's words. She keeps telling you that you should make up with your dad or at least hear him out. You hoped you wouldn't run into him on Pandora, but he was Jake Sully. The Toruk Makto that went from being a sky demon to being one of the people. For sure you would get in contact with him. But as long as no one revealed your name, everything could be fine. He's dead to you after all. Surely, you were only there for the money and a good time, right?

Only time could tell.

A/N: my first time writing on tumblr so no idea how some stuff works. Had this type of idea for a dad Sully plot for a while and finally started it. Legit rushed through this to finish this asap cause backstory kinda lame. I'm a college student so give me some time until the next part. I need to release a novella for college so I'm double-writing a story— isn't smart of me but🤭

#jake sully x reader #jake sully #avatar #atwow #atwow x reader #dad! jake sully #dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully #jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family #sully family x reader #jake sully x human!reader #jake sully x human!daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x reader #neteyam #neteyam x reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #neteyam x sister!reader

5K notes · View notes

btsvt-bar · 2 months

Text

FEVER

pairing ꩜ journalist!mingyu x afab!reader x journalist!wonwoo

synopsis ꩜ a promotion at work, the new political reporter and a few bottles of wine. writing for a prestigious newspaper can be much more exciting than it seems. it all depends on who your co-workers are.

content/genre ꩜ frenemies with benefits, threesome, smut (18+ mdni)

author's note ꩜ not proofread . comments are apreciated! lmk if you wanna be tagged on part 2 ♡

warnings under the cut!

part one | part two

warnings ꩜ smut, threesome, anal sex, oral (m. receiving), masturbation (f. and m. receiving), cum swallowing, double penetration, alcohol consumption, tipsy sex, sex in the workplace, voyeurism, tit sucking, jacuzzi sex, protected sex. lmk if i forgot something important.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

chapter one

The newsroom of the largest newspaper in the city of Chicago and the Great Lakes region was exactly what one could expect: true chaos. Phones ringing all the time, people talking loudly, papers scattered in the corners, journalists typing at full speed to deliver their articles in time… the place was a huge mess, but you wouldn't trade it for the world.

You walk quickly among the dozens of tables scattered irregularly across the 6th floor of the building. Being the responsible for the entertainment and arts column, you needed to submit an unfinished article in less than two hours.

The click of your white scarpins were practically inaudible over the cacophony of the room. A little out of breath, you arrive at your table and drop your red bag on the dark wooden tabletop with an audible thump, drawing Kim Mingyu's attention.

The black-haired man looks away from the screen in front of him and starts analyzing your outfit. From the pants tight enough to outline your ass perfectly, the refined silk blouse showing just enough cleavage and the small crucifix that rested near your throat. Mingyu lets out a sigh, he hadn't been with you in bed for three hours and he already wanted to drag you back.

"Did you lose something here on my desk, Kim?" you question in a mocking tone when you notice him staring. Of course you wouldn't miss the opportunity to tease him.

"Not really" he responds by getting up and slowly approaching you. A roguish smile tugs at his mouth. "You, on the other hand, lost a pair of lace panties at my place."

"Mingyu!" you shriek and slap the man's strong chest.

"Relax, darling. No one listened." he informs with a wink. "Would you like a coffee? You look tired, didn't you sleep well?"

The worst part of spending the night with him was his inflated ego the next day.

"You are ridiculous."

In a completely childish act, you throw him a middle finger. Mingyu laughs and leaves to grab a coffee for the two of you.

If one asked any Chicago Tribune employee who y/n y/l/n and Kim Mingyu are, they would, undoubtedly, say "the biggest rivals who have ever worked here".

The two of you had been on the newspaper's journalistic team since the beginning of college. You started together as interns, and since then fought like cat and dog. You weren’t sure, but you thought your enmity started with an argument in the archives room. You just knew that "hating" Kim Mingyu in front of everyone was as natural as breathing.

What most people didn't know was that you don’t replicate Tom & Jerry's behavior when you are alone. Protected from curious eyes, you enjoyed your time in a much more pleasurable way.

Literally.

You hated the term "friends with benefits" to describe what you had with Mingyu. Yes, you were friends outside of work. And yes, you had sex occasionally. But you hated people's need to label things, so you preferred to think of Mingyu as just a friend. The "frenemies" dynamic worked well, both sides were comfortable with it.

And that was enough for now.

"I already added sugar. Two small spoons, right? "Mingyu declares as he approaches to hand over the mug filled with steaming coffee.

"Yes, thank you." you offer a grateful smile and take a small sip of the dark liquid.

You weren’t even surprised that he knew how you had your coffee, you’ve had many breakfasts together.

"Good morning!" Yunjin, your best friend, greets you with a beaming smile. "Have you seen Dino?" the youngest questions as she approaches you. "I need to get a file from his computer."

You look back at your friend's table and notice his backpack on the sideboard, but the man himself was nowhere to be found.

"Lipinski asked him to go to her office about twenty minutes ago." Mingyu responds without looking away from the computer screen. "I have no idea why."

You frown at the information.

"Weird." Yunjin comments when turning on her own computer.

"He’ll be back" you state with a shrug.

"Is he being fired?" Yunjin freaks out.

"He wasn't fired. "Mingyu laughs, amused by the situation.

"And how are you so sure?"

Mingyu points something behind you. You turn your head in sync with Yunjin, and see Dino walking towards the three of you. And he wasn't alone.

The man accompanying Dino wore a black suit, white t-shirt and a dark blue tie with white stripes. He was taller than Dino by a good few inches and, even in a suit, it was noticeable that he took care of his physique and probably went to the gym regularly. However, what left you and Yunjin flustered was his beauty.

"Guys, meet our new political journalist." Dino introduces the man.

"Jeon Wonwoo." says as he extends his hand to Yunjin, who was closer to him.

"Yunjin, fashion and lifestyle." the woman introduces herself by taking his hand.

Wonwoo addresses you with expectation in his eyes. His eyes, you notice, are striking and intense. The kind that seems to be able to read your soul with just one look.

"y/n, entertainment and arts."

Suddenly, you feel like the room is too hot.

Maybe it was because of the man in front of you, who was undeniably handsome and seemed too good to be true. Or maybe it was his baritone voice. You hadn't expected the deep, husky tone that came out of his full, heart-shaped lips.

You bite her lower lip to contain a sigh and shake his hand eagerly.

"Mingyu, sports." His face contorts a little, as if he’d already decided that he didn't like Wonwoo.

"Nice to meet you all" Wonwoo says with a friendly smile and adjusts his glasses over his elegant nose.

"Your table should arrive tomorrow." Dino says, drawing everyone’s attention. "You can use mine for today, I'm going to do some field work and I'll be out all day." the youngest explains as he gathers his belongings and puts them inside his backpack. "Now, I need to take you to HR. Let 's go".

Wonwoo agrees and leaves his backpack on the table. The two head to the elevator hall with Dino explaining more about how the newsroom works.

"I call dibs!" you exclaim as soon as you’re sure Wonwoo can’t hear you.

"Hey, not fair!" Yunjin whimpers.

"You already have Dino"

"And you already have Mingyu."

"Dibs… on what?" Mingyu raises his eyebrow when asking. He wasn't even sure if he even wanted to know what the two of you were talking about.

"To fuck him." Yunjin responds as if it was obvious, gesturing with her hand at the same time. "The new guy is pretty hot, if you ask me."

"Your bad taste scares me."

Mingyu's handsome features contort into a frown. He knew he had no right to be jealous of you, but he couldn't help it. It was difficult, even more so when it directly affected his ego. The thought that he might no longer be the only one to have your attention made him slightly irritated.

"Are you jealous?" you tease as you give the man a knowing look.

"He's dying of jealousy." Yunjin says in disbelief. "I never thought I would see Kim Mingyu like this."

"In your dreams, darlings." he says with a mocking tone and goes back to work. "I need to finish my article".

You exchange a glance with Yunjin and you two let out an amused laugh. You take a sip of your almost cold coffee and risk one last look in Mingyu's direction.

The man was frowning and pouting like a toddler being denied something for the first time.

"Don’t be like that. I promise you’ll always be my favorite." you smile flirtatiously.

Totally out of character, Mingyu offers a shy smile.

"You make it sound so sweet when you lie to me" he snorts and you laugh at the comment, finding the whole situation funny as hell.

Everyone returns to their tasks, but the slight irrational jealousy remains in Mingyu’s thoughts. He lets out an unhappy sigh, feeling extremely stupid.

The brunette takes a few deep breaths in an attempt to refocus on finishing the basketball game schedule he needed to deliver. For now, that’s all he could do.

chapter two

It was Wednesday and the Chicago Tribune newsroom was practically empty. You, Mingyu, Wonwoo and two other journalists were the only ones there.

You feel like you’re being watched and look around, finding Mingyu staring from his desk, his bottom lip casually caught between his teeth. You could practically hear his mind engines turning.

You were very angry at him the night before. Out of jealousy, Mingyu was a total dick to you and to Wonwoo at the company dinner. However, after you shouted at him for around 20 minutes and he fingered you in the backseat of his car, you calmed down a bit. You still pretended to be mad, but you weren’t one to really hold on to grudges.

"I need your help in the archives room. "Mingyu says, shaking you out of your own thoughts.

"Is it difficult for you to find a file on your own?" you tease, tilting your head mockingly.

Mingyu smirks.

"It would be easier if the person who organized it had a decent system, my dear." he teases, remembering why you supposedly hated each other. The man gets up and says: "Let's go, I don't have all day".

You roll your eyes at him, but stand up anyways. He leads the way, and the two of you leave an unaware Wonwoo behind.

Mingyu opens the heavy wooden door and lets you get in first. The lights flickered a few times before stabilizing. Several silver shelves filled with white folders were scattered around the place, as well as some wooden tables and chairs. In the right corner, they had a copy machine and other stationery items that could help journalists' research.

You walk a few inches to the first shelf and only then realize that Mingyu didn't say what he was looking for. "What do you want to find?"

"Archives about the 1958 World Cup."

"Hm... I don't know if we'll have much on the subject" you state as you walk towards the shelves at the end of one of the aisles. "This is the stupidest thing to find around here, why would you even… " you’re cut off when Mingyu turns you around to face him.

He presses you against the low sideboard against the back wall of the room. Your eyes widened, not understanding what was happening. Mingyu runs his large hand across your cheek. He wets his lips, staring at yours eagerly.

"Is it okay if I say ‘shut up and kiss me’?"

You roll your eyes, but grab the man by his tie and pull him in for a kiss. Mingyu lets out a sound of approval, satisfied with your attitude. He lifts you and places you on the sideboard, positioning himself between your legs.

Mingyu raises his hands to your ass and squeezes hard, bringing you even closer. You tangle a hand in his hair, while the other one lightly scratches his nape just the way you knew he liked. Your tongues caress each other with dexterity, having already done this hundreds of times.

The kiss wasn't at a desperate pace with a hint of anger, like it was the last time you hooked up. It seemed like Mingyu wanted to prove a point. He kissed you as if he wanted to mark you as his. And you loved it. The world seemed to disappear when you kissed like that. An earthquake could happen, none of you would notice.

The man separates your lips and starts distributing wet kisses across your jaw and neck. You let your head fall back, giving him more space to explore. Mingyu opens the buttons on the black blouse you wear and notices you weren’t wearing a bra. He lets out a grunt as he raises his strong hands calmly; touching you gently. Too gently. You start to get impatient, knowing you didn't have much time before someone else showed up.

Mingyu wraps his lips around your right nipple, making you let out a soft moan. He gives it a few seconds of attention before moving on to the other and repeating the same process of giving small licks and pulling away with a gentle brush of his teeth. He kisses up from your boobs to your neck, his hands stripping you out of your black skirt in the same rhythm.

"You can stop there." you pull the man by his dark locks when he tries to give you a hickey near your collarbone. You hated being marked in visible places.

"Sorry…" the look he gives you is warm and without the slightest trace of regret. His swollen lips pull back into a sly smile and you roll your eyes out of habit. With no more time to waste, the journalist opens the button on his own pants while you take care of removing your panties.

And that's when you see him. If Mingyu turned his face a little, he would see him too.

Precariously leaning on a file box, two hallways away, was Jeon Wonwoo. His eyes widen when he realizes that you discovered him there. You bite your lower lip and wink at him, making it clear that everything was fine.

Wonwoo lets out a breath, which he hadn't even realized he was holding until then. The man didn't intend to be there. He had gone to the files room after you, at Lipinski's request. He didn't expect to find his coworkers about to have sex.

And he didn't expect to want to stay there to watch.

Suddenly feeling bewildered, Wonwoo backs up until his back rests against the white cabinets that were adjacent to the bookshelf that hid him. He brings his right hand to his forehead and presses the space between his eyebrows with his fingertips.

The room was too hot, the black tie suffocated him, the tailored trousers felt like a prison. A little desperate, he runs his hand through his hair, removing it from his sweaty forehead. Your low moans pull him back to the reality of where he was and what was happening just a feet away from him. He straightens his body, ready to get out of there.

However, he can't leave without taking one last look.

Mingyu hid his face in your neck as he fucked you in a controlled tempo. You hugged him tightly, with your lower lip trapped between your teeth in an attempt to contain your moans.

As if they were magnets, your eyes soon meet Wonwoo's again. You smirk, amused to know he was still there.

With his hands shaking, the man lets out a tortured sigh and walks away, leaving the room as quickly and silently as possible.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

"I need to say something." you declare as you try to adjust the black blouse on your body. It was completely crumpled, but whatever.

"Go ahead” Mingyu turns to look at you.

You open and close your mouth several times, unsure of how to start the sentence. As someone whose job was the use of words, you were definitely failing to communicate.

"I didn't want to talk when we were... " you interrupted the sentence, implying what they were doing. "Wonwoo saw us."

Mingyu stops trying to straighten his messy hair and looks at you suspiciously, as if you had just told him that you knew which numbers would be drawn in the lottery.

"And that’s a problem because…?"

"Why aren't you nervous about this? "you question, finding the man’s reaction weird.

You tilt your head, analyzing the man in front of you. He was strangely calm for someone who had just heard that the new nemesis had seen naked the woman he had been jealous of a few days ago.

"What do you think he's going to do? Go out and tell everyone he saw us here?" he rolls his eyes and tucks the hem of his white blouse into his pants. "As if."

"Of course not, you moron. I thought you would freak out for another reason."

"And what reason could that be?" Mingyu asks, holding your chin with his long fingers, forcing you to look at him.

"Nevermind."

Mingyu shrugs, it was in his best interest to leave that subject aside. You try to adjust your black skirt, unzipping at the back to make the process easier.

"How much did he see?" Mingyu asks himself as he leans against the sideboard, waiting for you.

"I don't know when he arrived, but I saw him before you... oh, you know."

"Before I fucked you?" Mingyu laughs loudly and you slap his chest, suddenly feeling ashamed. "Who knows, maybe he learned a thing or two…"

"You are annoying, Kim Mingyu." you let an amused smile escape your lips.

You turn around in a silent request for help from the man, who zips up your skirt.

"And you love it, my dear" Mingyu kisses your neck as he carefully pulls the zipper up. "Now, move that beautiful ass of yours. We have deadlines." he gives you a playful slap on the butt before heading to the exit.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

read part two!

tags ꩜ i hope you liked it so far!

@asscoups17 @wonvsmile @porridgesblog @gaslysainz @thepoopdokyeomtouched @sunset-sana @coupsgfsstuff @stagefrjghts @wonuwonder

#I'm nervous pls dont hate it #mingyu smut #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen hard hours #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios #mingyu x reader #wonwoo x reader #my works

606 notes · View notes

vacayisland · 5 months

Text

@!; Meet the Wifie JD / Female! Reader

"Summary"! You had always heard about JD's brothers, but you had never met them before as you had gotten with JD after the band had broken up. Yet, while on a mission to save Floyd, you were slowly introduced to his brothers, each in their own silly yet loving ways. "Tags"! Fluff? Idk somehow a fight almost breaks with between the Reader and poor Clay. Also tumblr is being weird so praying this posts this way.

@storydays @chamille-trash @valvalentine69 @gtdkibf6jshhshjd

@!; Branch and Poppy would be the first to know the truth about JD; A truth he might have forgotten to tell his brothers back in the band days, and something he even forgot to tell Branch and Poppy before they rode in Rhonda for the first time. It wasn't like he was trying to keep secrets, far from it; JD was more than proud of this little secret he has managed to cheek, yet in the flurry of re-meeting Branch and meeting Poppy and getting them both down to help save Floyd, he might have forgotten this tiny detail. "Branch! You never told me you guys has a sister!" Poppy exclaimed as she bounced into Rhonda, beaming from ear to ear as she noticed another Troll inside; they were looking over a few scattered papers, receipts, post cards, anything that she's been able to dig up. Yet her attention was caught away from her search and study when three Trolls entered the little RV, even more so calling her JD's brother. She tried to explain to Poppy that she wasn't JD's sister, that she was in fact his girlfriend, yet JD stopped her before she could; raising a hand in her direction as soon as he saw her open her mouth. He playfully wiggled a finger at Poppy, "That's the wifie!" "You're married?!" Poppy exclaimed with excitement, while Branch seemed taken aback instantly; his attention filtered from you to JD, a silent question engulfing his eyes as he tried to fathom a world where someone would have interest in his older brother. "Well, uh, not technically?" JD rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled with nerves; While you chuckled, a bit more sweetly, along side of him. Poppy tilted her head in confusion, her arms dropping to the side as she tried to think of how JD called you his 'wife' but you guys weren't married. Branch stood next to Poppy, still trying to fathom this whole situation. Wondering how you, someone who seemed so... not JD, ended up with someone like his older brother. As in given example, you were careful to stand up and walk around all the evidence you had dug up from boxes of old things that JD had kept since his band days. While JD, while turning around to reach for your waist, almost stepped and step a whole stack of papers flying to the floor! You had stopped him before he did so, thankfully, playfully smacking his leg away from the stack so he would yelp but realize his mistake and draw his leg back. "Hi, it's so very nice to meet you two." You would extend your hand towards Branch and Poppy; In which, Poppy grabbed your hand first and shook it enthusiastically. "Hello! It's so very nice to meet you!" Exclaimed Poppy as she almost made your arm fall off with how vigorously she was shaking it, "I'm Branch's, JD's younger brother, girlfriend. And can I say, you have very lovely hair." You smiled at Poppy, though were glad to be able to pull your hand away when she finished the hand shake. With your other hand, you grabbed onto the closest hand JD had to you, interlocking your fingers.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you both. I expect you both know what's happening?" You received a nod from Poppy, while Branch just kept his eyes square on JD; who tried to play it cool, but you noticed the tiniest sweat drop rolling down his forehead. "Well then, Poppy, would you like to help me search for clues? I'm trying to find where Spruce is-" You didn't even have to finish before Poppy bounded over, grabbing your hand and rushed over to the pile of documents and files you had pulled out. It genuinely shocked you how much energy she had. But you were not going to let that scare you! What you and Poppy didn't notice, as you were sorting and shuffling around clues, was the 'I'm watching you' fingers that Branch gave to JD. In which JD just extended his arms, wondering what Branch was going on about. Branch, in response, glanced over at you and then back to JD with a cock of his eyebrow. Confused, JD turned towards you and Poppy and then back at Branch wondering what he was getting on about. But Branch wasn't going to say his thoughts out loud, not yet.

@!; Bruce would be the second one to meet you, and much like Branch he was confused on how this even happened. Unlike Branch, he was happy that JD finally had someone who could tolerate him and his bossy ways; That's not to say that Branch was unhappy for you or JD, he was just a little jealous and sour that after all this time JD had changed yet he couldn't have been there for Branch when he needed it. Those feelings shifted from time to time the more Branch saw you and JD interact, and he couldn't help but slowly feel guilty; Yet, still standing the fact that it wasn't all that fair. Either way, Bruce met you when Poppy, Bruce, and Branch came back to Rhonda after a successful mission and a dance number about Brozone being back. You were sat in the driver's seat, mindlessly shuffling a deck of cards; You had been asked if you would like to join the three, mostly by Poppy and JD, but you had declined as you weren't much of a people person. It's what drew you to JD at first, when you heard he was going solo around the globe in a 'soul-searching' journey. You asked more about it and slowly the two of you had grown closer than you ever thought would be possible. As such, you always tended to miss him dearly when he stepped off Rhonda. And, subsequently, is why you bounded onto your feet when you heard the door open. You didn't even mind that the deck of cards had spilt all over the floor as you heard your boyfriends all too familiar voice shout, "Honey, we're home!" Which was followed by a confused new voice, "Honey?" "You'll get used to it." And Branch's snarky comeback. They had managed to grab Spruce, no doubt, thanks to the post card. Yet, before JD could introduce you both, he had to take care of the loving and attentive girlfriend that had appeared right in front of him; Grabbing both his hands and welcoming him back with a big smile, while also accidentally stopping those from behind JD; Who had to awkwardly shuffle around the two of you. "What did you do?" JD quipped, smirking down at you with a curious look. He hadn't notice the stack of playing cards that had been left on the ground yet, which Poppy had began to pick up out of habit. "Nothing! I just missed you." Branch, standing next to Bruce, could swear he could see the definition of heart eyes in your eyes. He wasn't sure if he was actually happy for his brother, or a little grossed out, or jealous, or all the above with some plausible explanation for his emotions that he didn't feel like going into. JD, having forgotten that you two had company over, was quick to scoop you up into his arms, as he usually did when you greeted him back home. His arms rested under your thighs, supporting you as you sat on his forearms, and as you wrapped your arms around his neck while your legs wrapped around his waist. There was something always so peaceful yet exciting being this close to JD; Being able to clearly see his eyes, as you cupped his cheeks and leaned down to connect your foreheads. You were able to smell his cologne, which you swore you could get drunk off of. You could just feel his warmth and be able to take a moment to stop and breath and remember that he's here and he isn't going anywhere. You could just, be; Be here with JD and not have to worry about anything. And the way that JD tightened his hold, the way he looked back up at you with adoration... you knew he wouldn't have it any other way. Even if you almost kicked him out of his own bus one time because he was being a pain in your ass. A cough from Branch, and awing from Poppy, snapped you both out of your love-drunk dazes. Causing you to sit up properly and glance over at the company, all the while you kept JD's cheeks cupped with your hands and he couldn't really tilt his head to see everyone. "You both are!... adorable!" Poppy shouted, bouncing on her toes as she held onto Branch's arm. You couldn't help but laugh as her reaction, noticing that she was refraining from shaking Branch with all her might.

"Yeah, very cute." Sarcasm leaked out of Branch, "But have you both realized we've been standing here for a minute? We need to go out and look for Clay so we can save Floyd!- Yet, Bruce only patted Branch on the shoulder, "Calm down, Bitty B! I wanna meet JD's partner." Along with giving you both a smile as you slide out of JD's arms and onto the floor. At least, you were attempting to do so, but JD only tightened his hold. "Bruce, meet the wifie; Wifie, meet Bruce one of my younger brothers. Good, there you guys meet. Now if you excuse us," And, though Bruce seemed to have wanted to met more, he simply walked away with you still in his arms. Which caused you to flush but laugh, playfully smacking his shoulder and asking what has gotten into him! But, then again, this was your boyfriend and he was usually this selfish with you.

@!; Clay met you in Putt-Putt Village, where you had been convinced by JD to come out with everyone else. He had claimed that it was simply too dark and spooky to let you stay home alone and he couldn't make sure you were properly safe in Rhonda. You tried arguing saying that he's left you in worse conditions, which seemed to get a rile out of Bruce who questioned him what you had meant. It was funny to watch JD sputtering out reasons and excuses and examples, but in the end you decided to join them. It would do you good to get some fresh air after so many hours of basically non-stop traveling. To say you regretted your choice as soon as the clown-head started talking would be an understatement. To say you weren't about to kill JD when gulf balls began to animate and roll around you, was an understatement. To say that you then didn't smack JD behind the head when everything turned out to be alright was... actually, that's not an understatement because that's exactly what you had done. "And you said I wouldn't be safe in Rhonda! When has she ever let me get surrounded by gulf-balls that actually turned out to be Trolls." You had 'scolded' JD as you smacked him behind the head. It wasn't anything hard, just a small one-two to see if he still had some sort of brain in there. JD jerked towards you with the most betrayed look you've every seen him give, "Babe!" JD sputtered, not knowing how to respond to you assault! "I'm about to go back to the trailer." You muttered, a little salty. Crossing your arms you turned away from JD and towards Viva, who was screaming about how the new guests needed friends and milkshakes; Which the other Trolls in the village jumped onto getting. "If you go back I might have to follow you to correct this attituded we're having." JD snirked slyly, crossing his arms as he flashed me a knowing glance. Wiggling his eyebrows and winking playfully, leaving you slightly baffled at his boldness in front of everyone. "JOHN D-" You started, yet was quickly cut off as you hadn't noticed Clay's sudden appearance; or how he had rushed over to say hello to baby Branch and Bruce, giving a lack luster response to JD. That itched you wrong. Sure, you knew JD hadn't been the best to his brothers in their band days but that still gave him no right to look and act like that towards JD. You momentarily forgot JD's comment, or the fact that he probably almost killed you earlier (to which he would rightly remind you about your flare for dramatics, and how much he loved them) and marched over to where Poppy, Branch, and Bruce where. Poppy was attempting to introduce herself to Clay, who stood in front of them, yet you pushed past them and stood as a barrier between the three and Clay; Who gave you a weird look, and was slightly taken a back by your forwardness. "Hel-" Clay tried, but didn't get very far in his greeting. "I'm sorry, I didn't know that you had a stick up your ass that someone needs to remove, Cupcakes." You spat at him as you crossed your arms, shooting him the nastiest glare you could fathom at this point. Which was nasty enough to get both Bruce and Poppy to back up a little, and Poppy to slowly inch Branch away from you and Clay.

Though Branch didn't seem to enjoy the way you were talking to his third eldest brother. He opened his mouth to say something, yet you cut him off, "Furthermore, is that how you're really going to greet your brother after all these years? With plain favoritism to the others despite everything he's had to go through and is trying to actively change because of everything that went wrong, huh?" "Oooh'kay, Babe," JD carefully walked over to you, knowing you were a little on the edge; That and you had smacked him behind the head earlier and he wasn't looking for another one of those. "How about we take a step back and go calm down-" "Nah, Imma beat his ass!" It wasn't the best first meeting you could have had with one of JD's brother, and it also put a little sour kick into the two you had met before, yet it was eventful, that was for sure. Who wouldn't find it eventful for having their older brother's spunky girlfriend almost beat their ass over a few choice words and actions towards him? Yeah... you were going to have to do a little bit of work to mend that with Clay.

@!; You officially, without the fear of him dying or any of the other brothers for that fact, met Floyd before the KISMET and BroZone concert backstage. You were there to support JD, and in turn his brothers. Sure, you had seen and heard all about Floyd before this moment but you weren't exactly sure what to expect from him. Especially since you knew that Clay or at least Bruce or Branch had told Floyd about the whole Clay fiasco on the way back. "You're (Y/N), right?" Floyd's voice from behind you caught your attention despite the current list of groceries you were writing. "Huh?" You muttered at first, having been caught off guard by Floyd's sudden approach. You couldn't help but wonder if he was here for some other reason than first greetings. "Yeah.. that's me... and you're Floyd, right?" Floyd would nod as you set down your pad and pencil on your lap, which was cross-crossed as you sat on the floor. Floyd, still a little worn down from all the talent that was taken from him, joined you on the floor and had decided to sit next to you. You weren't sure why, nor did you completely understand the sudden nerves that had struck in your body. You weren't this nervous when you met any of JD's other brothers; So, how come you were nervous now? Floyd seemed to notice this. His eyebrows frowned up as he smiled softly at you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Hey, I'm not here to scold you if that's what you're expecting." There was a hint of laughter in his voice, "I mean, I know what happened when you first met Clay but that's in the past, yeah? Plus, you were only trying to stand up for JD... which is sweet, I appreciated it." You jerked your head up to look at Floyd, a little baffled that he was so different from his other brothers. Before, you had been nervously fiddling with your notepad and pencil, unable to form a word to say to him. Yet, he seemed to somehow calm your nerves. Not instantly, like JD had always managed to do, but slowly with a firm reassurance. "Oh," You mouthed, before smiling, "Yeah, I still don't think I've made that up to Clay yet. I mean," You paused for a second, "I did kind of almost attack him just because he rolled his eyes at JD. It struck a wrong cord with me." Floyd chuckled, "Hey, don't worry, I get it. I always get that icky feeling whenever my brothers fight, but that's just how they are." "A ragtag team of brothers who both love yet hate each other at the exact same time?" You joked, cocking up an eyebrow. "And yet, we wouldn't have it any other way." Floyd replied with a smile, turning to look at his other brothers, who were all warming up and stretching. You glanced down at your notepad, reading the list of groceries you would need to get for the bus when JD and you set off again. There wasn't many placed to stop and get food on the road, unless you and JD gathered and hunted. "Hey, I don't know if anyone has told you this.." Floyd snapped you out of your thoughts again, "But thank you." You were baffled, "Thank you?" "Thank you," Floyd shrugged his shoulders, but his smile was so genuine and sweet. "For being there for John Dory when we weren't. For helping him at his lowest. You know, he talks a lot about you when you're not around and I don't think I would want any other Troll to be with JD than you. Welcome to the family, Sister-in-law." Floyd held out a fist bump, though knew you might need a minute by the tears welling in your eyes.

You had told yourself many, many years ago (when you first got with JD and heard about his band days) that you would never pick a favorite brother of his; Just incase it would cause some sort of family drama to arise. You didn't exactly have siblings, so you didn't really know what they fought about and what they didn't. So you told yourself if you ever met the brothers you would do your best to quell anything that came up. Yet, Floyd was making this very difficult right now... "JOHN DORY FLOYD IS MY FAVORITE BROTHER!" You rushed out, snagging Floyd's wrist and shoving it up in the air; To which he yelped, not having expected such a sudden reaction. John Dory, peaking in front backstage, stared for a moment. He hadn't fully heard you, but was able to quickly piece together what you had said: "WHAT?! BABE I'M MEANT TO BE YOUR FAVORITE!" "I don't make the rules JD, maybe you shouldn't have almost killed me!" "IT WAS ONE TIME AND NOTHING HAPPENED!" "Should have let me stay with Rhonda." You playfully shook your head towards your boyfriend, who stood in the doorway completely baffled and a little butt hurt. But, you couldn't help but laugh as his goofy expression, absolutely loving every part of him; His grumpy sides, his loving sides, and even his down-right baffled and confused sides.

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

#brozone x reader #john dory headcanons #john dory x reader #john dory trolls #trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #trolls dreamworks #trolls 3 #brozone #clay trolls #trolls fandom #floyd trolls #spruce trolls #bruce trolls #branch trolls #poppy trolls #broppy

1K notes · View notes

mountainficss · 4 months

Text

thinking of a bratty college boy jeonghan who’d literally like…be absolutely obsessed with you. but instead of yk being normal about it he’d just make it his mission to bother you. he just finds it cute when you’re pissed off at him.

classmate!jeonghan who you’d have an early morning class with. he’d notice you storm in on the first day with your bag clutched in your hand and a glower on your face. even with the nastiest expression he’d think you’re the prettiest person he’s ever seen in his life. you’d plop down in a chair furthest from the front of the room and jeonghan would find himself getting up from his seat and sitting right next to you. you’d feel a presence to your right and oh it would make you angrier. you were not a morning person. it was too fucking early for this and you were too tired to tolerate any kind of social interaction. all these empty seats and this asshole has to sit next to you? of course you didn’t expect a pretty boy with long hair and an impish smirk to be sitting next to you when you whipped your head around to glare at him, but your scowl didn’t falter. it would take more than a pretty face to un-piss you off. he’d introduce himself and offer you his hand to shake, but you’d just roll your eyes and face the front of the room again. “you’re not gonna tell me your name?” he’d smirk, your blatant annoyance amusing him. “it’s y/n.” you’d snap, hoping that would shut him up. “the lecture’s gonna start soon. be quiet.” he’d say nothing, just smile smugly as he turns to listen to the professor’s words. from that day on he’d make it his goal to bother the fuck out of you every day just so he can get your attention.

he’d sit in the same spot next to you every morning, doing little things to irritate you <3 they’re never mean things, just things that he does because he highkey likes you and likes to see you all huffy and mad at him. he’d scoot his chair closer to yours just to see you shoot daggers at him but not move away. would sometimes grab a little piece of your hair and twirl it around his finger just to feel your hand slapping his away. if he’s lucky you won’t even shoo his hand away and will just tell him to fuck off, causing him to keep twirling it <3 would definitely whisper stupid jokes in your ear while the professor is talking, grinning and watching the corner of your lips fight to twitch up into a tiny smile. he’d draw little doodles on sticky notes of different things, sometimes drawing little animals and sometimes drawing cute pictures of you. would crumple the sticky note up and throw the little paper ball at the side of your face. you’d glare at him as it bounces off your cheek and onto the table, turning your head back to pay attention to the not-so-interesting lecture. jeonghan would definitely gripe about you not paying attention to his work of art. “c’mon,” he’d whine quietly, grabbing your hand and gently prying it open so he could place the wadded up piece of paper into your palm. “you didn’t even open it.” you rolled your eyes at him, huffing as you uncrumple the little square. you’d be met with a drawing of you as a stick figure, an arrow with the tail labeled (y/n) pointing to your little stick body. he’d drawn a bunch of little hearts around you, the drawing bringing a tinge of blush to your cheeks. he’d feel proud making you blush, a boyish grin practically glued to his face for the rest of the day. two or three days later you’d be sitting next to each other again, your notebook sitting in front of you as you rustled in your bag on the floor to try to find your favorite pen. while you were distracted, jeonghan would steal your notebook to doodle another silly picture inside. he’d open it and immediately be met with his sticky note drawings he’d made for you throughout the semester. would find things like his poor drawing of a rose with “for you <3” written at the bottom, his drawing of you as a pouty cat, and the stick figure of you surrounded in hearts he drew a few days ago. his stomach would flip at the realization that you kept them, that you secretly liked his drawings. maybe even secretly liked him. oh he’d love that so much. you’d finally sit up after finding your pen, eyes traveling to your open notebook and blushing hard. you’d snatch the book back and slam it closed, but jeonghan would already be grinning ear to fucking ear. his face would be red too, would definitely fight the urge to kiss you on the fucking spot. “want me to make you more?” he’d ask, his eagerness making your heart swell a bit. you’d mumble a small “sure,” avoiding his eyes as he practically radiates with excitement. he’d just smirk cutely and would be twirling that strand of your hair around his finger again. this time you wouldn’t say anything and would just let him <3

ugh this isn’t even smut and it wasn’t even supposed to be this long but i love the idea of little tease jeonghan that’s obsessed with you :( i’ll probably think of some type of smutty continuation anyway but ugh just the idea of him annoying you is so ugh <3

#seventeen smut #thoughts #smut #bratty switch #seventeen #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan #seventeen imagines #seventeen jeonghan #jeonghan svt #little shit #seventeen fluff #mountainficss

678 notes · View notes

azsazz · 3 months

Text

Midnight Muse (Part 16)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3,641

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Masterlist]

_________________________________________

When the scent of coffee hits your nose, you’re instantly invigorated.

You’d thought about canceling meeting up with Lucien this afternoon after your morning from hell. It had taken the fire department half an hour to arrive at your apartment building and another ten minutes to pry the doors of the elevator open.

By then, you and Azriel were no longer speaking, after agreeing to go to his exhibition with him, so you’d occupied yourself with reorganizing your papers, now half crumpled from their fall to the floor. You’d propped your sketchbook up on your knees and made sure you were careful enough not to flash Azriel any of the drawings.

When the doors had screeched open, there were three firefighters staring up at the two of you. Turns out, the elevator had halted halfway between two floors, and you’d had to nervously slide your body from the floor of the elevator to the landing below.

Even Azriel looked less that pleased, crouching close to you as if he was going to jump forward and snatch you should you slip. The firefighters helped you gain your footing before helping Azriel out, questioning you and asking if you needed to be looked at by an EMT.

The man asking was a handsome one. In fact, all three of them were, but there was something about this one’s deep, smooth skin, his dark braids pulled back from his face. His white teeth gleamed with the grin he sent your way, offering his help. You couldn’t help but smile back, and once the firemen had made sure that the area was safe and clear for the elevator maintenance and parted with cheerful goodbyes, did you realize that Azriel was gone.

You should’ve gone back upstairs to your apartment, but the incident left you too wired. Instead, you took a few calming breaths, shot a look and cursed at the devil elevator, and took the stairs the last two flights down.

You’d already missed your morning class, but you could still make it to your mid-morning one, Art History. The worst class you think you’ve ever signed up for in your college career thus far. But, it’s mandatory, and better to get it out of the way now instead of when you’re a semester away from graduating. The teacher is an older, knowledgeable man, but the entirety of your grade is made up of only three tests, and all of the art he’s showing you looks awfully similar to one another.

You might be fucked if you can’t figure out a way to discern one cathedral from the other.

“Hey,” Lucien greets, eyes roving the packed coffee house before settling on you. He’s dressed in a pair of loose, gray trousers, and instead of his usual sweater vest that makes him look like the most good looking TA around, he’s wearing a tight black t-shirt. It’s different, seeing him in a color darker than the gray that makes his copper hair pop. The deep black of his shirt looks painted on his skin, and you’re used to seeing him in looser fabrics.

It doesn’t stop you from brushing your gaze across the musculature of his body.

His hair is pulled back from his face this afternoon. A few long strands framing his face. He brushes them back with a strong hand as he grins down at you and his bicep flexes with the motion. Your mouth dries, and you’re suddenly thankful that you’re at the coffee house, needing something to wet your throat.

“Hey,” you stumble over the greeting, stomach flipping as his ying-yang eyes gleam down at you.

“Missed you this morning,” Lucien says, ushering you into the line. It’s longer than you’d expected it to be, but with all of the pre-weekend partying that seems to go on around your University, you suppose all of the hungover students like you need their pick-me-up to make it through the day so they’re once again ready to drink themselves stupid tonight.

“You probably won’t believe me, but I got stuck in my elevator this morning,” you huff, shuddering at the thought of being trapped in that metal container once more.

Lucien’s jaw drops and you nod, grimacing at the memory.

“Oh my Gods, are you okay?” He can’t help but to laugh and the smile you’re trying to keep tucked away breaks free. “You made it out, obviously, but holy hell, (Y/N), how are you even here right now? I’d have gone right back to sleep.”

Azriel’s uncommon niceties and disappearing act had kept you from doing just that.

You cross your arms over your chest, huffing playfully. “I couldn’t miss Art History. I have no idea what’s going on in the class and Professor Harvey sucks ass! I couldn’t tell you the difference from a Gothic or Romanesque cathedral if I’d built it myself.”

Lucien snickers. “I’m so glad I don’t have to take that. Instead, I get to enjoy History of Architecture and Urban Design. So, when you think about it, is pretty much the same thing you’re taking.”

“Sounds easier,” you grumble, glaring at the backpack of the person in front of you. “Plus, you’re naturally good at this stuff, Lu. I’m sure you’re killing it.”

The freckles on Lucien’s cheeks glow as his cheeks pinken with a blush. “I wouldn’t say all that,” he trails off, and it’s obvious that he’s being modest.

You take a step forward with the line and count the number of customers that still have to order before it’s your turn. Behind the register is a guy who looks like he would rather be anywhere else, and when you catch sight of the letters stitched into his shirt across the chest, marking him a frat member, you understand why the line is so long.

Behind the frat bro are two girls scrambling to make drink after drink. Unlike the boy at the register, they seem like a well-oiled machine, dancing around each other as if making cappuccinos and lattes is a graceful dance. You feel a twang of empathy for them even though they seem like they’re thriving back there. You have no idea how they can memorize the different drink orders, making them as efficiently as they can and giving them out to the customers within a short amount of time.

This is the kind of pressure you would crack under.

You turn back to Lucien with a playful glare. “Oh, come on. You’re one of the smartest people I know,” you don’t miss the way the tips of his ears turn red with your slew of compliments. He looks up as if nervous, while you continue. “It’s one of your better traits.”

This gets his attention. He blinks down at you. “I have bad traits?”

You elbow him teasingly. “While your intelligence is admirable, your sketching could use some work,” you poke fun at him, referring to the last time you hung out to work on your drawing projects. Instead, you had spent the night watching a terrible reality show with the bottle of wine he’d brought. Lucien had followed you to your room where you were supposed to gather your drawing supplies. He had made a joke that had you laughing so hard you nearly cried. Your stomach had ached too much to get up after that, the wine making you boneless in your comfortable bed, so the both of you spent the rest of the night there, laughing and not working on your drawing projects.

Lucien quirks a brow. “Is that so? Are you offering to be my model?”

It’s your turn to blush now, cheeks hotter than the steaming milk screaming on the other end of the counter. Your mouth parts though your tongue is a twisted mess from his flirting, knotted and thick. You don’t know how to respond, but you’re saved by a very punctual throat clearing that comes from the frat boy behind the register.

“Are either of you planning on ordering?” He asks lazily, tapping a blunt nail against the cash wrap. He wears a backwards cap, white hair poking out from the sides. You don’t miss the way that his pine green eyes drag down your body and back up, ignoring Lucien completely. You shudder in response. “Or was it your intention to hold up the line?”

You shut your mouth, teeth clacking together. So eloquently put for a boy who probably has pre-workout and pron coursing through his veins.

Lucien ushers you to the counter, apologizing for the both of you. “Sorry about that, man.”

The boy behind the counter looks as bored as ever, though his green eyes brighten when they settle once more on you. He leans forward a little, mouth tugging up in the corner in a smirk that twists his face in an unsightly maneuver. “If I offered you the moon on a string, would you give me a kiss too, baby?”

You’re surprised with the composure it takes you not to bite back at the jock, but Lucien uncharacteristically leans forward to snarl in the boy's face. “Don’t speak to her like that.”

Frat Douche leans forward, flashing his teeth in a taunting grin. He’s slightly taller than Lucien, and wider. He’s probably on the football team or something. Not that you concern yourself with his extracurriculars.

One of the barista’s spins around on her heel, gauging the way the two boys are sizing each other up. Her blazing blue eyes glare daggers between them, as if the look alone can tear them apart. Her auburn hair is slicked back perfectly, and you wonder how it stays pinned so well when she’s running around slinging coffees all day.

A crash draws your attention away from the boys squaring up before you. The other barista behind the counter is frowning, staring down at the shaker she’s dropped to the floor with a clang. The entirety of the coffee house goes still for a fleeting moment, everyone wanting to see what’s going on, but within seconds voice’s carry throughout the space as the barista swoops down to scoop the shaker from the floor, dumping it into the sink.

“Ro, quit it,” she barks, a can of whipped cream still poised and ready to add to the Frappuccino in her hand. Those icy blues flit across yours and her mouth tightens sourly. “Excuse him, sir.”

Lucien glances at her and seems to back down a little, shoulders strained as he rolls them. “(Y/N), what would you like to drink?”

“I’ll have a caramel latte,” you nearly spit in the frat boy's face. “Iced.”

With a soft nudge at your lower back, Lucien guides you away from the conceited frat rat at the cash wrap. You slide down the counter to pick up area while Lucien pays for both of your drinks. He joins you a moment later when you’ve managed to take a few deep breaths. You will not let him ruin your mood.

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t,” you shake your head, cutting Lucien off. “Don’t apologize for him. Thank you for defending me.”

“It was the least I could do,” your friend replies, almost bashful at your thanks.

While you wait, you scour the shop for somewhere to sit. Booths are packed full with studying students, miss-matched chairs at tables stacked with people and their friends. It’s a frenzy if you’ve ever seen one, but the coffee house is a sanctuary for the university students, especially during the afternoon hours.

Tonight, the shop will be barren, with all of the patrons getting their caffeine fixes through vodka Red Bulls instead.

“You’re taller,” you comment, “Do you see any open spots that I can’t?” You ask, because there should be more seating behind the loitering line.

Lucien’s colorful eyes scan the coffee house as one of the baristas brings your drinks over to the counter. It’s the one with piercing blue eyes and copper hair. She’s staring you down, a hard look on her face that you can’t discern is concentration or annoyance. You can’t blame her if she’s either, concentrating on the tasks at hand, making coffees left and right. She has every right to be annoyed with the customers who ask for thirteen extra shots of syrup or her coworker who apparently doesn’t know how to speak to women. You wouldn’t be surprised if he’s made comments to the two girls he’s working alongside, but you think that the one who slams your cups onto the counter with a little too much force can hold her own. And so can the one with white as bone hair and goldenrod eyes. Those sharp, long nails dipped in metallic are enough for you to know that she doesn’t fuck around nor let anyone fuck with her. You make a face but the barista is already turning away, beginning to work on the next order.

“There’s a table open by the window,” Lucien points to the corner of the room to a table in front of the large windows. You lead the way, a bounce in your step as you move quickly so the table doesn’t get snatched.

“What a day,” you sigh, finally relaxing into the cushy seat. You place your coffee on the low table between you, and while it’s not the best seat to get work done, you’re happy to be relaxing and chatting with your friend right now.

Lucien snorts at you, taking a sip of his drink. You watch his throat bob with the swallow, and you avert your gaze, looking outside of the window.

There are students walking by in a flurry, a third of them trying to stuff themselves through the coffee shop doors, needing a shot of the drink to make it through the afternoon.

“So, what are your plans this weekend?” you start with, mentally reprimanding yourself for staring at his bobbing throat. You play with the straw in your drink, swirling the ice around to give yourself something to do.

Lucien lets out a long suffering sigh that has you looking up once more.

“I’m supposed to be having family dinner this weekend, but I’m dreading riding back with my father and brother.”

“I’m sorry,” you offer sympathetically that Lucien shrugs off. It’s not a topic he favors talking about, but you’re curious. “A brother? Does he go here?”

Lucien sets his cup down on the table between you, wiping his palms down his trousers as he clears his throat. He looks like he’s preparing himself for war, with the way that he’s acting, and you almost feel even worse for asking.

“I have six brothers, actually,” he says, and you nearly spit out your drink. Six brothers? Holy crap, that’s a lot. “And half of them go or have gone here,” he trails off, and you can’t do anything but stare at him in shock.

“Wow, your family really likes this place,” you mutter.

“Yeah, well. My father is the Head of Civil Engineering.”

“Oh, so you’re like Vulcan University royalty,” you tease and he rolls his eyes, shooting you a playful glare.

“If I went into engineering, I would’ve been,” Lucien answers, glaring down at his cup. His shoulders are rigid, and you’re sensing that he doesn’t care to talk about this, but he continues nonetheless. “Eris, my eldest brother, is getting his Masters in Civil Engineering, following in my father’s footsteps, and I’m going into architecture, which, and I quote, ‘is for those people who can’t solve a differential equation.’”

You don’t say that you have no idea what that is, but Lucien must see it on your face because he cracks a smile. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

“So, you’re telling me that all of your brothers are engineers?” you ask, because the odds of that happening must be some crazy statistic. Almost as crazy as having seven sons and no daughters.

Across the shop, the bell chimes again, signaling the arrival of more students. It’s as if you can feel the air shifting, becoming more electrified. The feeling draws your attention to the door, where Azriel and Mor have just walked in.

Like a magnet, Azriel’s gaze meets yours, bright and gold.

It makes you want to shrink back in your seat a little, with the way that they flick over to see who you’re with. Your stomach flips with nerves but you’re not even a little ashamed of who you’re with, so why is that happening? The gold splinters, and you can see the way his shoulders tighten from across the room. Mor senses the shift in Azriel’s mood and scans the shop, caramel brows pinched together in a threatening way, as if she’ll verbally spar with anyone who makes Azriel feel this way.

When her eyes snag on yours, her red lips part in a genuine, red smile.

All you can muster is a soft smile and a lame wave, stomach flipping like you’ve been caught having public sex with Lucien under that harsh gold gaze.

Dragging your eyes from the sight of them, you focus on Lucien with all of your might as you feel him watching you, reading you.

“Not entirely,” Lucien shrugs, scooting his chair closer to yours now that the coffee shop has gone up in decibels with all of the post lunch time rush. “Eris is studying for his masters. Pyrolas is on scholarship at St. Bryaxis’ University for wrestling, but on paper he’s a communications major, which is funny because everytime he talks to someone in the family they’re always arguing,” he rolls his eyes, but the smile that accompanies it tells you that he’s close with Pyrolas. “He’s never cared about what anyone thinks about him anyway, which is a trait I wish I had,” Lucien admits, and you’re agreeing with him.

“Me too,” you sigh, placing a hand on his knee empathetically. “Are you close to him?”

“Used to be,” he shrugs a little. “Oak is the smartest, he’s a senior, getting a physics degree, which my father couldn’t complain about. Conleth is in the Netherlands, taking the semester to study bridge structure. Boring, I know,” he laughs at the face you’re making. “And the twins are juniors here, Foxe is studying Mechanical Engineering and Finch is studying Chemical Engineering. Always sucking up to dad, those two.”

“Damn,” you curse low, shocked. “I’m not sure if I’m more shocked by the fact that your entire family is a bunch of geniuses or that two of your brothers are named after animals.”

Your joke seems to crack the heaviness of the conversation. It’s clear that whatever kind of relationships he has with his father and brothers is strained, but Lucien allows the feeling to fall off of his shoulders as the two of you burst into fits of giggles.

“See, this is why I like you, (Y/N). You’re very easy to talk to.”

“Don’t forget funny,” you chuckle, grinning wide.

“Right, how could I forget. Funniest person I’ve ever met,” he jokes, nudging you with his shoulder.

“Hey,” you whine, shoving right back, “It’s true! I would never lie about something like that!”

Lucien smiles broadly, taking another sip of his drink. “You’re right, I’ll give you that one. What about you? Any plans this weekend?”

Your stomach bottoms out at the thought of your plans for the weekend. You’re going to Azriel’s exhibition tomorrow, someone who you’ve been beefing with since the start of the year. Why had you said yes? You really want to spend your Saturday night with someone you’re not even sure you can make it through the night without arguing with?

Parting your mouth to answer Lucien, you’re cut off by a looming figure. Looking up, you notice Azriel. His jaw is set in a firm line, golden eyes blazing like a thousand fires. There’s a steaming hot coffee in his hand and you find yourself wondering what he’s drinking, but you assume that it’s plain black coffee like the attire he’s dressed in. Mor stands a step behind, a sly smirk she’s clearly trying to hide on her lips.

“I’ll pick you up at 7:30 tomorrow night.” Azriel’s voice is cold as shadows, and you frown in response. Lucien looks confused, staring up at your neighbor as if he recognizes him somehow.

You nod shallowly, cheeks hot at the look on Azriel’s face. You don’t know why you feel like you’ve been caught in the act, but him interrupting you like this is none of his business. He could have asked Cassian for your number or told you this morning if he thought you needed the reminder. “Okay.”

Azriel stares at you for a moment longer, then twists on his heel and stalks away, completely ignoring the hard look on Lucien’s face and forgetting Mor.

You follow him, the way he moves with such grace. The crowd parts for him, more sets of hungry eyes trailing after him like yours. It makes something hot twist your gut, and you’re tearing your gaze away to Mor, who beams brightly.

“So nice to meet you last night, (Y/N),” she winks, looking like she knows something that you don’t. “I hope to see you again soon.” With a flourish of her blonde hair being tossed over her shoulder, Mor trails Azriel out of the coffee shop, just as many eyes following her as there were following Azriel.

“I thought you didn’t like that guy,” Lucien says, slumping back in his chair a little. You’d complained when he had come over to your apartment to study, when he’d told you that he ran into Cassian and his moody roommate in the hall.

“Yeah,” you answer weakly, reaching for your coffee again. The words taste funny on your tongue as they come out. “I don’t.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Midnight Muse Taglist: @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakurafrost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @homeslices @quinzzelx @carlandonorri-s @juniper-july19

#acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #midnight muse #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #tattoo artist!azriel #artist!azriel #art school au #modern acotar

613 notes · View notes

delacoursshp · 9 months

Text

you wanted me to explain, right? i'll explain.

fred weasley x fem reader- no use of y/n, reader is in gryffindor, both are of age

warnings: smut, 18+, doggy, hot steamy n roughhh, unconsensual consent, spitting, sort of blowjob

this is a short, straight to the point story 😭 but i hope y'all enjoy! @delacourss.hp

"fred!" you yelled frustratingly, "fred, come here this instance!"

fred anxiously hurried from the boys dorm room to the common room where you had been standing.

"wussthematta?" he replied half-asleep, eyes heavily lidded with one hand rubbing his eyes, and the other scratching his firey red head.

the common room was entirely dark, except for your lit wand, which was pointing to a piece of parchment on the floor. your nostrils were flaring as your widened eyes and frowned brows signaled fred to look at the paper.

"uuhh," as he slowly realized what he was looking at, "uh, wow, wicked thing to do really, innit?" he yawned, pretending to be so oblivious.

"fred, gideon, weasley." you spoke in a dangerous tone. fred looked up at you, looking as if he was about to be cruciated. you pointed your still-very-lit wand up at him, making his face whiter than before and his vision blurred.

the piece of parchment showed a talently drawn woman, her clothes shed off and her tongue out. the woman seemed to look an awful lot like you.

"do i even have to speak? it's YOU who should do the explaining, fred!" you said angrily.

fred sighed and let his arms fall limp to his sides, still partly blinded by your wand. "how are you even assuming it's mine? you've got no proof whatsoever!" he told defensively.

you scoffed, drawing your wand away for him, muttering something that lit up the whole common room and then picked up the piece of paper, which now had clearly shown strands of red hair covering the thighs of the woman.

"oh come off it, it could've been george or- or ron!"

you gifted him a look of disbelief. "alright, so tell me you didn't do it then." you spoke firmly.

fred groaned. he had this issue ever since he met you, the one where he just fully can't lie to you. he closed his eyes in defeat.

"aaaalright, it was me. congratulations, now may i continue dreaming about perce eating rotten pies? it was a quit enjoyable dream" he asked, simply, as if this was nothing.

you yanked him by his ear, faces now cm's away from eachother. "i do, NOT, tolerate this piece of filthy work!" you grunted. fred 'ouched' in response.

you let go of his now red ear, picked up the piece of paper, held it next to your head, and handed fred your wand.

you waited impatiently, as fred just looked confused.

"well?? do it!"

"aughh", fred just groaned dissapointedly, "expelliarmus!"

a shot of yellowish red light flew towards the parchment, and it dissapeared out of your hands, leaving a few white dots on the floor.

you sighed in relief. "wasn't so hard was it? now, i'm expecting an explanation, so i hope you prepared one whilst i was waiting."

"oh, come on. you must have some idea why." fred said, tone low and soft, glaring at you like you were some sort of prey, "don't act so innocent, love."

your expression changed. can it be? no, that would be weird. you guys are friends after all. fred smirked and playfully winked at you.

"don't be silly, fred." you had decided to say. "c'mon, it's late, let's head to bed before anyone sees us."

you were glad you chose to change topics, it was getting a little awkward, which it never usually is between you and fred.

fred followed you but before you could land your feet on the stairs, fred grabbed you by your hips.

"you wanted me to explain, right? i'll explain."

"oh fuck! oh yes!" the boy relentlessly pounded into you from behind. the force of his thrusts were beyond powerful."fredd- freddie! rightt.. fucking... there. ah!" you moaned. fuck, it felt so good you never wished for it to end.

"mhmmm, yeah? you like that huh, love?" fred shakingly spoke in your ear, sending you goosebumps, which only added to your incoming orgasm.

your back was flush with his chest, and you struggled to keep your legs still. he snaked his arm around your waist as he fucked into you, his other arm too occupied rubbing your little clit.

this sudden but slight change made you grasp his hair with your right hand, the other hand trying to push his pelvis away as the pleasure became overwhelming.

"mmh, don't push me away. you know you want this." he groaned.

"shit, shit, shit!" you kept gasping. the man showed no mercy, as he lifted one of your legs by your thigh, so he could be even deeper, if that was possible.

"too deep, freddie! too f-fucking deep!" you screamed. fred only chuckled at your helpless noises, feeling so proud of himself that he could get those sounds out of your pretty lips.

he sped up his merciless pace, skin-slapping noises lewdly contrasting against your high-pitched moans and freds deep grunts."yes! yes!" you kept whining, as he hit your g-spot over and over again. your eyes rolled back, and, for a moment, all your senses blacked out, and if it wasn't for freds strong grip on you, you would've fell.

"aah, fuck yeah." fred groaned, as he looked down to where you were connected to see a splash of white, sticky, hot liquid all over his and your pelvis.

he quickly pulled out, spinning you and immediately shoving you down on your knees.

your mind was still hazey as you were still coming down from your high. looking up at him, you saw him look back while roughly stroking his cock. finally understanding his gaze, you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out.

well fuck, this was just like the drawing.

"mm, keep looking at me like that, sweetheart." he said, in a strained voice. "i'm.. almost.." he moaned, "...there."

the sight infront of you was so delicious, you just had to do something about it. you licked his tip, kissed it and then spit on it.

fred seemed surprised, and stroked faster then ever, before shooting his load onto your tongue."ahaa, oh yeah.." he sighed.

you made sure, once his eyes opened, that he saw your semen covered tongue, and then you swallowed.

not even caring what it tasted like, but caring about how fred reacted, you giggled as you saw him smirk and raise his eyebrows as if he was impressed by your actions.

"you get it now, beautiful? was that a good enough explanation?" fred said, lifting you up by your arms, and carrying you to the gryffindor bathroom.

"mhm, that was a perfect explanation, fred."

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

aaaa! was this good?😭 goshh i hope so. gimme tips n stuff, i'd rlly appreciate it!! :)

#harry potter #cedric diggory #fred weasley x reader #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasley smut #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley fic #harry potter smut

2K notes · View notes

pearlcigs · 5 months

Text

⋆ french girl

“have you ever seen titanic?” you asked, toying with the hem of ellie’s shirt. “yeah, why?” ellie’s eyes were closed, hand under her head, serving as a makeshift pillow even though she was laying on two already. “y’know that one scene? where jack draws rose.” you voice, inching your body closer to her. “the one where rose gets naked and asks jack to draw her like one of his french girls? yeah i’m familiar.” ellie chuckles, unsure of where you could be going with this. “watched that scene more times than i care to admit.” she continued, eyes opening to look down at you, your head laying on her chest. “draw me like one of your french girls, ellie.”

the off white colored sheets were now wrinkled under your nude body. the flesh of your skin plush against the cool fabric that was quickly warming up due to your body heat. nerves coursed through each one of your blood vessels, taking deep breaths and rubbing your thighs together. you hadn’t expected your fantasy to get this far. posed like a doll, afraid to move and ruin the whole image, though ellie wasn't too concerned. she had your body in this position memorized, each perfect imperfection on your body engraved in her mind. she didn't think she could forget, even if she tried.

the sharp sound of her pencil scratching the paper put you somewhat at ease. the melodic sound making you eager to see what your girlfriend's artistic abilities would bring this time. your chest heaving with each breath, though it felt like you couldn't get enough air. "you're doin' great, babe." ellie praised, tongue poking out her mouth just slightly as a form of concentration. her pencil drew every one of your curves. verbatim on the paper to what she was looking at with her own eyes.

“why don’t you spread your legs a lil’?” she asked, it was innocent, truthfully. she wanted to make sure this drawing was perfect, from each stroke down to the pose. your face heated up, bottom lip slotting between your teeth at her vulgar yet seemingly sweet request. “els,” you giggle, gently trying to inform her of what her words meant to you. ellie looked up at you upon hearing the serenade of your voice calling for her. “hm?” the scratching of the pencil slowing to a stop.

just looking at you and how flustered you suddenly looked, she realized just what she said. a light pink pigment blushing over her freckled cheeks. “i mean, ‘course only if you want to.” she tries to correct her mistake, though she’s not entirely sure if it was a mistake to correct— or even a mistake at all. “like this?” you mumble with bated breath, spreading your plush thighs apart just enough to let ellie see the start of your glistening cunt. she stares intently for a minute, trying to hold herself back from dropping her art supplies and crawling onto the bed to pleasure you the way you deserve.

“you look even prettier than rose.” she comments, offhandedly, as she returns her attention to the almost finished sketch. “can i see, els?” your voice is sweet, but full of eagerness. “you gotta wait till it’s done, babe. be patient.” she smiles with a cocky grin, liking the fact that even for just right now she’s the only one who’s ever seen this drawing. it prided her in more ways that one for reasons she couldn’t explain. “but ‘m not patient.” you complained, voice a borderline whine. “oh, trust me. i am well aware of that.” she shakes her head with a small laugh. “i’m almost done, alright? just hang on, baby.”

the few minutes it took her to finish the drawing of you that you were excited to see felt like hours. your body felt stiff, like you were turning into a statue to be a piece of art forever. ellie smudges a few of the harsh lines with her finger before putting her pencil down for the final time. she savors the feeling. of what? she’s not sure. “ready?” she asks, looking up at you and you’re already sitting up, enabling her to see more of your perfect body. she walks over to the bed, sitting next to you and somehow fighting back every erotic thought she had about you flipping the paper to finally show you.

you take in every sharp line that the pencil, that ellie claims is her lucky pencil, made. you looked at it so intensely that ellie thought maybe you didn’t like it, until you smiled. “you’re so talented, ellie.” you complimented, heart fluttering with adoration. ellie took the praise with a grain of salt, blush painting her bashful face. “couldn’t’ve made something this beautiful without the perfect muse.” she deflects, goofy grin on her face. ogling shamelessly at you body. she places the finished art piece on your night stand, hands caressing you body with a soft kiss to your lips. “come ‘ere, ‘french girl’.”

#🍄 ⋆ the last of us #🕰️ ⋆ birds and bees #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #the last of us #the last of us x reader #the last of us smut #tlou #tlou x reader

626 notes · View notes

hairmetal666 · 1 year

Text

It starts in Eddie's second senior year, close to the beginning of the semester. Eddie's in trig (again). He's good at math, but Mundy fucking sucks, always giving Eddie shit for breathing, or his shoes squeaking on the linoleum, or whatever, and he ends up with detention most days. So, he hardly ever shows and can't be bothered to do the homework, even though he knows the answers more often than not.

On this particular day, Mundy is in a bad mood, on Eddie's case way more than normal. In the heat of frustration, Eddie scrawls, "I fucking hate this class" on a scrap of notebook paper, and for reasons he can't begin to explain, leaves it folded on the window ledge. He doesn't think anyone will answer; fully expects the paper to be gone come morning with maybe another detention slip under his belt to show for it. He's a little flabbergasted, the next day, when the note is still there, and loses his mind a little when he sees the words "tell me about it" underneath his first message. He doesn't recognize the handwriting, sloping and a little looped, and for most of the class period, he's too bemused to respond. Right before the final bell rings he scrawls, "trig. You?" He leaves the paper on the ledge again. "Algebra 2 :(" is the response.

They keep it up, just a few words at first, before Eddie accidentally doodles on the page, and the other guy scribbles a hasty formula, the math spectacularly wrong. There's a little arrow leading to the words, "this shit sucks." Eddie re-writes the formula with the correct math, leaving careful notations of how and why. The next day he sees, "Shit, dude, I totally get this now. Mundy should retire and let you take over." Which pleases Eddie down to his core.

The messages get longer, nothing super personal, but complaints about life, math help, Eddie's silly little doodles, bad jokes, the slightly lewd drawings typical of teen boys. Eddie's never had a better attendance record in his life, but there are some days where his notes are left unopened. Most remarkably a couple week period before Thanksgiving, where he goes unanswered for so long he figures whatever thing they had going is done. But after the holiday, the notes start up again, with no acknowledgement they ever stopped. Eddie doesn't bother questioning it.

They keep it up almost all year, and they're definitely friends, even though they're totally anonymous. And that wouldn't have changed, except it's the day before spring break and Eddie's vibrating out of his skin with anticipation of the time off, so he forgets his dnd notebook in Mundy's class. He makes it all the way to Click's before he realizes, then sprints back across the school. He crashes through Mundy's door, tripping a little over his own feet.

"Sorry," he pants. "I just left--" he looks over to his desk, far corner right by the window, and then forgets every word he's ever known because Steve Harrington Steve Harrington King Steve, stares right back at him. And he just. He stops and fucking laughs, because all this time--this whole goddamn year--it's been Harrington he exchanged notes with. And sure, the jock's star has fallen in the last few months, with the breakup with Nancy and all that shit with Hargrove, but it's still Steve Harrington. With his big house and his fancy car and his girls. It's pretty Steve Harrington, the focus of Eddie's most hopeless daydreams.

He has a few seconds to see Harrington's hazel eyes go wide, before Eddie spins on his heel and makes a hasty exit. He absolutely doesn't spend the break thinking about the notes, matching what Harrington wrote with the gossip Eddie heard on him from the past few months.

Once break ends, he doesn't bother going to Mundy's class at all.

The Friday of the first week back, Eddie walks out to his van, only to find King Steve leaning up against it. He's doing that obnoxious thing where he has one leg bent, foot resting against the side panel, arms crossed over his chest, stupid hair falling in glorious cascades around his face. It's ridiculously, unfairly attractive.

"What do you want?" Eddie asks. He opens his front door without fully looking at Steve.

"Can we talk?"

Eddie snorts, "what could you and I possibly have to talk about."

Steve narrows his eyes. It's so bitchy and so fucking cute it makes Eddie queasy. "You know what."

"Enlighten me, Harrington."

"C'mon, man, the notes!"

"What about them?

"Don't be stupid, Munson, you know what. Why'd you stop?"

Eddie pulls a pack of camels and his lighter out of his jacket pocket. "Lost its appeal once I knew who was on the other side. Surprised you even want to keep it up now that you know you've been writing to the freak."

He pointedly ignores the little jolt Harrington gives at that, like the words hurt. Which is pretty rich from Steve Harrington, former #1 bully of Hawkins High.

"I've always known it was you," he says.

"You don't--wait what?"

I've known since, like, the first week, Munson."

"How??"

"What do you mean 'how,' dude, you're always drawing little pentagrams and d20's. Writing the word "Slayer" over and over. Who else would it be?"

And he can't even deal with the fact that Harrington knows what a d20 is (what the fuck) with everything else the other boy just said.

"I gotta go," is his only response. He ducks into his van, slamming the door basically in Harrington's face, before peeling out of the parking lot.

✏️✏️✏️✏️

It's the last day of school. Eddie's failed again. His grades, which weren't great to begin with, took a sharp nosedive after spring break, and he just can't wait to be done with this place for a few months. Harrington hasn't spoken to him again, and Eddie tries his hardest to ignore the other boy (aside from seeing him hanging out with Robin Buckley, a junior and a band geek, besides, and he forcibly has to remind himself that he doesn't care what Harrington does).

He slouches into his last math class of the year, slumping over in his seat. He rests his head on his desk, eyes blankly staring out the window as Mundy talks about what a joy most of them were to have in class. His eyes are unfocused, he contemplates a nap, and then he sees it. The tightly folded piece of paper resting on the window ledge.

Eddie almost doesn't take it. He almost ignores it, but he physically can't stop himself for reaching for it, unfolding it, staring at Harrington's now familiar handwriting.

Hey man, I'm pretty sure I fucked things up with us, and I owe you an apology. I've always known who you were, but you had no idea I was me. Buckley helped me see how that maybe freaked you out a little. I know I used to be a piece of shit. But I'm better--or I'm trying to be. And I'm so fucking sorry for the shit I did to you before and the things I didn't bother to stop. You don't owe me forgiveness, but you should know that I regret all of it. I liked passing notes with you. You made me laugh, and I don't know. It was nice to think someone liked me for reasons other than that I'm Steve Harrington, or whatever. I'd really like it if we could be friends. I get if you can't do that or don't want to.

Whatever the note actually ended with is scribbled out in pen so thick Eddie can't make it out.

All day he thinks about the note, the apology, all of it. Eddie thinks, if he's smart, he won't forgive Harrington. That he knows better than to trust him. But Eddie's never actually been that smart in this way, so he's not totally surprised to find himself walking to Steve's car after the last bell rings.

This time, Eddie's the one with his foot resting on the side panel of Steve's BMW, arms crossed over his chest. He doesn't have to wait long before Harrington makes his way to the car, chestnut hair dancing in the breeze, biceps on display in a short-sleeve polo. A little smile dances across his lips when he spots Eddie.

"So, you gonna tell me how you know what a d20 is, Harrington, or do I have to guess?" Eddie offers the other boy a cigarette.

"Babysitting?

"Babys--Are you serious??" Eddie splutters. Steve Harrington babysits. Steve Harrington babysits little dnd playing nerds. Steve Harrington wants to be his friend.

A full grin spreads across Steve's perfect face and Eddie is absolutely, 100%, fucked.

(Part 2)

(Steddie Notes is now posted in full on ao3!)

5K notes · View notes

tsuvvy · 3 months

Note

Damian would never admit it but he actually loves coloring with little sister reader 😚 It’s such a nice stress reliever for him after a chaotic day as a teenage vigilante. Would love to see you write this!!

Color Therapy

Pairing: Damian Wayne x youngest sibling reader

Summary: Damian couldn't deny you were sweeter than you put yourself off to be. And, coloring was more therapeutic than he was expecting.

Warnings: Mentions of you living on Gotham streets and being homeless, mention of robberies, nothing really bad in this though

Word Count: 1.2k

You were an odd kid, that's for sure. You were younger than Damian, about a year or two, so he had expected someone more.. Childlike.

But you were an indifferent kid. You obviously came from a rough background, having grown up on the streets of Gotham. But still. His point stands when he was expecting someone more childlike.

You never reacted to the glares or scowls you received from him. You only returned his mean, annoyed gazes with a calm, unconcerned one of your own. Slowly, Damian had stopped giving you these scowls and glares.

And slowly, his school and vigilante work started to take up most of his time. He'd started visiting the library more often to study for his exams and finish his homework. And with that, he noticed something. He'd noticed it was common for him to find you within the library with a sheet of paper and just some highlighters. Usually, he'd just ignore your presence and sit elsewhere in the library.

He doesn't know why, but. He just started sitting with you. Neither of you would say a word. You would just sit in the comfortable silence filled with your coloring of highlighters on paper, and Damian’s typing of keys on his computer and turning of book pages.

“Y/n,” he finally spoke your name after a few days. You looked up at him. “Why do you only have highlighters?”

You looked down at your piece of paper for a second before saying, “They were all I could find.” You looked back up at him. Damian and you left that conversation there.

But the next time he came to the library, he dropped a pack of nice colored pencils in front of you.

You stared at the pencils for a moment before looking up at him. He caught your gaze.

“What?” He asked, looking back down at the book he had for his homework.

“Wanna color with me?” You asked abruptly. It made Damian pause in his tracks. He looked up at you, his gaze flitting to your paper, the highlighters, and the colored pencils he'd just given you.

“No.” He said, looking back at his book. But something kept him from reading. “Thank you, though..” His voice was quieter.

Nights like this tired Damian out. It was a stressful night. It was just supposed to be a patrol. But there were a string of robberies out of seemingly nowhere. He was exhausted.

And now he was slugging throughout the halls. He yawned just as he passed an agape door. He glanced through the crack. And what he saw made him stop in his tracks.

You were laying on the floor of your room coloring with the pencils he had given you. He didn't know why he stepped forward to your door. And he didn't know why he pushed it open.

You looked up at him. And he looked back at you. You seem to understand what even Damian couldn't.

“Wanna color?” You asked again like you had earlier.

Damian glanced down the hall to his room before looking back at you and your coloring stuff.

“Fine..” He gave in, stepping into your room and sitting on the floor across from you. He took the paper you handed him and grabbed a few colored pencils from the box you had moved closer to him.

It took him a moment to decide what he wanted to draw. But when he began to draw, it was weird.

His head was empty and it just seemed so.. Simple? He was calm..

“Can I use the red?” You asked, your hand was out awaiting for the red pencil.

“Yeah,” He put the red colored pencil in your hand.

Damian sighed as he put a textbook he had acquired from math on the library table.

Damian glanced at you from across the table, you were coloring like always. Then he looked down at his homework. He didn't want to do this. He never did. Homework was annoying. And you seemed to read his mind, because without even looking at him, you passed him a sheet of paper and moved the box closer to him.

Damian closed his computer and stood up from his seat. He moved to one next to you so you could both share the pencils better.

Damian could practically feel his stress and annoyance slowly wash off of him.

“Purple please,” You asked him.

“Mhm,” He hummed, finishing the area he needed to with the purple before he placed it into your hand.

“Damian,” you called his name within the halls of school.

“What?” He looked down at you when you took up pace with him.

“All the colored pencils in the box you gave me are short and hard to use now,” You told him, looking up at him.

“Alright,” He looked ahead, “I’ll get some more, then.”

“Could you get a bigger box with more variety in colors?” You asked.

“Yeah, I can.” He nodded.

“Thank you!” You said, hugging his arm abruptly before running off to class, joining a few kids you had made at the very least acquaintances with.

The way you hugged his arm startled him, he hadn’t expected it. He watched you run off, his heart feeling like it’s blooming like a flower.

Damian dropped the box in front of you where you sat on the floor of your room. He took a seat across from you much like he had the first time he joined you for coloring.

You looked at the back where the names of all the colors were, and sure enough, there was more of a variety like you had requested.

You passed him a piece of paper and put the box in between you two so you both could reach it.

“Why do you color so much?” Damian asked you.

“My head is quiet when I do.” You replied.

Damian paused in his coloring, looking up at you. “What do you think about when you don’t?”

You were quiet for a moment. “What I saw growing up on the streets of Gotham.” He didn’t need you to go into detail to know what that short sentence implied.

He looked backed down at his sheet of paper. He put the pencil he had down.

“Are you using the light green?” He asked. You shook your head and handed him the light green pencil.

You two were quiet for awhile. Silently coloring in a comfortable silence.

“You know you’re safe here, right?” He looked at you, and you finally looked back at him. “You’re here for good, you aren’t going anywhere.”

You stayed quiet.

“You’re safe here.”

You stayed quiet.

“Say something.”

“Thank you.”

Damian looked back down at his sheet of paper at your words, taking it as your understanding of his words.

Damian usually thinks of his own traumas when nothing occupies his brain. Or he’s doing homework. Or he’s fighting crime.

He doesn’t often give himself moments of peace.

But when he’s coloring with you in a comfortable silence like he is now. It’s like for once, a moment of peace washes over him.

He hated to admit it. But you and your dumb coloring were nice. It was nice for him to finally have a quiet moment.

Damian hates being vulnerable, and he feels almost vulnerable.

But he couldn’t deny it anymore. These moments were therapeutic.

986 notes · View notes

simplylatte · 22 days

Text

Sleepy Teacher

Miss Circle x GN!Reader

You held your papers to your chest, your heels clicking against the hard, tile floor of the hallway. The gentle sounds of your footsteps filled the silence that swept around you. Various flyers decorated the plain walls that were grey and gloomy. You'd occasionally come across a few drawings here and there from students. But aside from that, the design was simple.

You marked your way to the teacher's lounge, your stomach rumbling for some needed food.

You forgot to pack lunch.

You couldn't help it.

You taught your class as usual. Gave a two to three week unit, hand them a study guide, and test them the next day. It was a lot of papers to grade for a single teacher. You feared falling behind, so you spent hours at night trying to grade what you could. And so far, you've only managed to grade half of what was needed to be done. Not to mention that you also hadn't updated your lesson plans yet.

You took a seat at a table, the room empty. You placed the packets of papers on the desk and rubbed your temple. Your head throbbed with excruciating pain. You felt like crying. But you were a teacher. You signed up for this amount of stress, so you resorted to sucking it up with a sigh. After a minute of collecting your thoughts, you grabbed out your pen and began to grade the papers.

Time felt slow, and you grew more tired by the second. Sleep deprivation overwhelmed you and your thinking process. You spent 20 of the 35 minutes of lunch trying to grade a single packet. Your thought process was slowed down that you hadn't registered someone walking in the room.

"Mx. Y/N?" A soft, Japanese accent filled your ears, and you flinched, nearly dropping your pen. You turned your head around to see Miss Circle standing in the doorway.

"Goodness, you nearly scared me to death," you frowned.

"I called your name twice," her eyes narrowed at you.

"You did?"

"I did."

"But I didn't hear you. And since when did you come in?"

Miss Circle didn't say a word. Her eyes stared into your soul, and you knew right away that she caught on to your habits. This wasn't the first time she's found out about your lack of sleep. And unfortunately, she was not real happy about it. Her footsteps clicked against the floor as she made her way to you.

"How much sleep did you get this time?" She asked with a stern tone. You stared at her with visible confusion. You were zoned out until she had to tap your shoulder to get your attention. You simply tilted your head and stared. Miss Circle scoffed lightly.

"How do you expect to be a good role model when you can't even take proper care of yourself?"

"I do take care of yourself," you retorted.

"Then why are you staying up late?"

You stood silent, unsure of what to say or how to respond. You simply shook your head and went back to trying to grade papers. Miss Circle frowned in disapproval. She sat down next to you and lifted your chin up, turning your head to look at her.

"This isn't good for you, you know that by now. If you keep this up, I'll turn you in to the principle—"

"No, please don't!" You protested.

"But I will with the way you're neglecting your sleep. Papers shouldn't be over your top priority."

You stood silent, the feeling of dread washed over you. You hated how caring she was about you. You could handle a few hours of sleep, you thought. You crossed your arms and turned your head away from Miss Circle. Her fingers lightly tap against the table.

"And I'm assuming you didn't pack your lunch either?" She asked. Your eyes widened, and you stood silent. You felt her eyes glare down at you as your silence was obvious enough. Miss Circle mumbled a few words underneath her breath as she went through her lunch bag and pulled out a container with a sliced sandwich. She handed you the bag in front of you and reached over to take away the papers stacked in front of you. You glanced at her and groaned to yourself.

"You really don't need to," you mumbled.

"Oh, but I insist," she whispered back in a hushed but angry tone. "I'm not giving you a choice. Eat."

You shook your head. "No. Come on, seriously. I really need to grade those papers."

"Absolutely not. These papers can wait. Eat the sandwich, and I'll give them back to you."

You snarled in frustration. You were too tired, so you just slammed your head against the table with your arms folded. Miss Circle stared at you for one moment, her eyes narrowed down at you. After a moment of glaring, her gaze softens. She places the papers down beside her and presses her hand on top of yours.

"Listen, I'm not trying to be mean. I'm just worried about you, okay? This isn't healthy for you. You can get yourself sick, you know."

"I know," you sighed. "But it's almost summer break. I can't slack off. The students are stressed enough as it is."

"And so are you. They're not the only ones dealing with stress," she reassured.

"..I'm so tired," you whispered, your vision getting blurry.

"I know you are,"

Miss Circle was about to continue her sentence. But you lifted your head up from the desk, leaned in, and leaned your head against her shoulder. You were tired to notice, but Miss Circle froze with shock and felt her face flush. She stood still and allowed you to lean against her, unsure of what to do. Finally, she wraps her arm around you and holds you close to her.

"Uhm, Y/N?" She gently called out. Nothing. She tilted her head, only to see that your eyes were closed. You fell asleep on her. Miss Circle was flustered, but she held you close. Using her foot, she pulled your chair closer and made you lean on her. You looked so peaceful. Your breathing was steady. You felt at peace. Miss Circle couldn't help but feel her heart swell with adoration.

This was okay. Next hour was her planning period anyway. She didn't mind this, not one bit. Miss Circle kept you close, her fingers gently trailing against your skin that left goosebumps in their wake.

"I suppose a few minutes wouldn't hurt," she whispered, her lips curling into a smile the longer her gaze stayed at yours. She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead.

How sweet. ♡

☆------☆

I wrote this at 11 pm. It's not the greatest, but I hope this is well for you. ♡

#fundamental paper education #fpe #miss circle #miss circle fundamental paper education #fundamental paper education miss circle #miss circle fpe #fpe miss circle #fundamental paper education x reader #fpe x reader #miss circle x reader

301 notes · View notes

marvelousmando · 1 year

Text

"The Game is Afoot, Indeed"

Sherlock x Reader

A/N: So here's my first attempt at a one shot - the idea for this popped into my head not too long after watching Enola Holmes 2. Hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: None! Pure fluff with a sprinkle of mutual pining. Reader is wearing a dress.

"Here we are," Sherlock said after you exited the carriage, walking up to the side of the building to peer through the nearest window.

Looking around with awe at the large home decorated with beautiful flowers and twinkling lights, you wished for a moment that you were here to enjoy the lively music and celebrate like the other guests. You could see them through the window, dressed in all their finery, dancing the night away.

Taking a breath to clear your mind and focus on the task at hand, you looked around the corner to the front of the building. More guests were lined up outside along a winding path, and - yes, as you looked closer - were holding slips of paper in their hands.

"Alright! This is simple. All I need is one of those invitations," you exclaimed with a mischievous grin, turning towards him. "So, what's the mystery item you're after?"

His dark brows immediately furrowed.

"You're not taking it."

You crossed your arms and stared back in disbelief.

"Are you serious?"

"This item that I am taking is of high value to my case. It is not something I can entrust in anyone's hands but my own," Sherlock stated matter of factly. "I will slip in, break into the viscount's office, grab it, and slip back out."

You let out a soft snort.

"Sherlock, we are at a ball. Do you really expect me to believe that you won't be attention grabbing?" you said while studying the crowd through the window again. "There are a great deal of ladies in there with what looks to be barely any gentlemen. All the ladies will be constantly surveying the dance floor for their next match, waiting to sink their claws into the most eligible bachelor, and you are so very …"

Your words trailed off. You pressed your lips together, with a blushing glance back at Sherlock.

He returned your gaze, waiting, his features painted with slight curiosity.

"... tall," you finished lamely.

Silence.

A heated tension gathered between you both.

After a few moments, Sherlock released a small smirk.

Clearing your throat and breaking eye contact, you continued on, "The point being, I would attract far less attention, and as you know, I have plenty of experience breaking and entering, among other things."

Sherlock stepped towards you.

"Two things. First of all, that was a one-time occurrence that will never happen again. You caught me on a very rare, off day." Still moving closer, he finally stopped, with barely any space remaining. A quiet gasp escaped your lips, drawing his eyes to the source of the sound.

"Second of all," his voice lowering into a gentle tone, "how could you ever think that you would not be the most eye-catching woman in that ballroom?"

Lifting his hand to turn your face up towards his, you could feel your stomach doing somersaults. Resting your hands on the sides of his coat, you began to lose yourself in his deep blue eyes, framed with the most -

-"Even if you're not … tall, was it?" he teased, interrupting your runaway thoughts.

You huffed, glaring at him while taking a step back, causing Sherlock to drop his hand.

He immediately offered his arm. Upon taking it, you two strolled over to the front to join the moving guest line.

"So what exactly is my purpose in accompanying you this evening, if not for helping you with your case?" you questioned with a raised brow while waiting for your turn along the path.

"You are simply my date,'' he answered. You immediately opened your mouth in retort. Before you could pose another objection against him, he smoothly continued, "I don't deny your skills, but I believe your beauty will attract too much attention for you to break into the office successfully."

A smile broke out on your face at his attempt at flattery with a double compliment. He watched you closely as it slowly turned into a more sly expression.

"Well, I guess that just means I'll need a big distraction." By this time, you and Sherlock were a bit closer to the head of the line, with a few more guests waiting behind you.

In a loud voice, you suddenly gasped and stared at him in pretend shock, "Oh my goodness! I can't believe it! You're Sherlock Holmes!"

Not a second had passed and the guests ahead and behind craned their heads to get a look at the famous "Sherlock Holmes" who was attending the party.

Stunned into silence, Sherlock stared at you as you pulled out two invitations you had hidden within your dress. His mind flashed back to the heated moment you shared at the side of the building, when your hands had rested right by his coat pockets. At least he wasn't wrong about your skills, he thought.

Murmurs began to break out amongst the guests remaining in line, staring more openly at him.

"What's the item?" you asked again. "If you tell me, I'll give you back your invitation," you offered with a twinkle of mischief in your eyes.

He sighed in defeat.

"It's a silver compass with a chain. Engraved on it are the letters, H E G." He held out his hand impatiently for his invitation, as people were beginning to break away from their spots in line to talk to Sherlock.

"I didn't say when I'd give it back," you laughed, moving farther away as more and more people approached him and started to surround him. "You're Sherlock Holmes, you'll get in!"

He wasn't worried, he knew everything would be fine with your level of talent and capable hands. Lately, Enola had been telling him that he needed to be better about giving up control when it came to working with others. He guessed this was as good a start as any.

Sherlock couldn't help but admire your cunning and quick thinking as he watched you hand the invitation over to the footman, shooting a quick glance and flirtatious grin back at him as you entered the ballroom scene.

Hardly listening to the people now crowding around him and attempting to introduce themselves, he returned the smile as a thought entered his mind.

He would just have to get to the compass first.

"The game is afoot, indeed."

#sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock x reader #henry!sherlock #henry!holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x you #sherlock holmes x y/n #sherlock holmes one shot

3K notes · View notes