#it gave me excellent opportunities and a leg up in the world

[aluraveil]

♡ Poly relationship with Yandere Fyodor, Nikolai, and Sigma!! ♡

If you were the darling of 3 of the 5 members of the Decay of Angels, it would be pretty bad luck for you.

All 3 of them are very possessive of you just like any other yandere. All 3 of them aren't very strict with you, the only rule is that escaping isn't allowed. Fyodor, Nikolai, and Sigma all know that there's no escaping from them with their vast connections and excellent combat skills plus the thousands of people under their command. They're confident that even if you somehow manage to escape, they can easily bring you back. If somehow they still can't find you, they might even pay a visit to Fitzgerald and "borrow" his Eyes of God.

Fyodor is the scariest one out of the trio. Unlike Nikolai, he doesn't necessarily give off a very friendly vibe. Fyodor gives off a don't-piss-me-off-or-you-will-regret-it vibe. It looks like Fyodor is always staring at you and judging you secretly with his challenging and cold gaze.

Fyodor often likes testing you, such as leaving the front door unlocked or even giving you an opportunity to escape. The first time you took the opportunity you were immediately caught and dragged back. Fyodor was dissapointed with you and you certainly didn't want to see him angry.

Fyodor sometimes even flirts with you just to mess with you and to see your reaction. It makes him laugh whenever he sees you blushing or getting nervous.

Fyodor can be pretty sweet with you sometimes and he loves giving you gifts! For your birthday he got you cake and flowers which made you happy. Fyodor glanced in awe at you as you happily ate cake without a care in the world.

Fyodor often calls you his Myshka (little mouse) as a nickname for you. It's only right for him because he's the leader of the Rats of the House of the Dead.

One time you even went with him into the underground base and you saw him typing away with a huge computer setup. Whenever you're at the base, Fyodor wants you to be in the same room. Under different circumstances, he would let you roam around but the underground tunnels were easy to get lost in and he wants to be able to have you at arms length.

This other time you were walking with Fyodor when he was giving out instructions to some of his underlings. You remember when you met some guy named Ivan and he gave off a pretty weird vibe.. you also heard from Pushkin that he was a "total nut case"..

Nikolai is the chillest one out of the trio. He's funny and he shows you tons of magic tricks. You could even fall for him if he wasn't a terrible person plus him being one of your captors.

Nikolai is pretty entertaining and there's never a dull moment with him. You entertain his silly theatrics and he always knows when to make you laugh. Nik's always messing with you by using that stupid coat ability of his. One time, he even grabbed your leg as a joke and he started tickling it. You bursted out laughing both from it being funny but it lowkey creeped you out. Especially with the look he gave you where he grinned really widely and started lifting his eyebrows up and down in a way.

One time, you tried escaping from Nikolai by running into a store and he contacted Fyodor and Sigma letting them know of the instance. Next thing you know, Fyodor and Sigma are laughing their asses off behind a computer screen on the security cameras at the way Nikolai messes with you by having random objects fall on top of you. You're scared shitless when Nikolai decides to drop a random mouse on you..

This other time Nikolai had wanted to show you something during one of his missions that he dragged you along too. Nikolai was recording some video in a meeting room with government officials. You couldn't help but laugh your ass off when Nikolai messed up during the recording session especially since it was live.

"Oh no! An on-air-oopsy! Quick stop the camera, I can't go on any longer!"

You couldn't help but feel bad for the "tiger boy" (as Nikolai referred to him as) when he got hit by a pole as a result of Nikolai's ability..

Sigma is the most lenient one of the trio. For instance, he grants you more freedom than the other trio members and he forgives you a lot more if you make a mistake and you're sincerely sorry about it.

Sigma often has you sit on his lap while he's busy at his desk at the Sky Casino. Whenever Sigma is busy with other things besides paper work, he'll even give you some money and let you roam around the casino.

You have fun playing with the machines and Sigma might even rig one of them to have you win the jackpot. He might even be watching you through the camera and smile at how happy you look when you win.

You're gonna be pretty confused when you see random explosions plus some weird people claiming themselves to be "Hunting Dogs".. especially when you head back to Sigma's office and see a random hole in the wall with Sigma panicking. Who knows what was even going on? Being around the Decay of Angels had its fair share of strange experiences so you weren't surprised when weird things happened in the Sky Casino..

Should you be worried when you spot a pink haired girl who could magically age herself up?..

Hm.

Nah.

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #bungou stray dogs #yandere fyodor #yandere fyodor dostoevsky #yandere fyodor x reader #fyodor x reader #yandere nikolai #yandere nikolai gogol #yandere nikolai x reader #nikolai x reader #yandere sigma #yandere sigma x reader #sigma x reader #fyodor x you #yandere bungo stray dogs #yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bsd #yandere decay of angels #poly relationship

[arealphrooblem]

A Lost Cause Part 3

Synopsis: The trusted keeper of all the Heroes' secrets, Civilian's existence is kept a tightly guarded secret itself. So how did the villain find her? And how will she withstand the attempts of his scientist to break her open and discover those secrets himself?

CW: nonconsensual drugging, medical whump, medical experimentation, needles/IV insertion, mentions wounds from torture, torture recovery, captivity

Part One

“So the serum had several unforeseen consequences.”

The doctor delivered this news as he checked her vitals, scribbling on that goddamn clipboard of his. 

“You mean having my body convulse in excruciating pain wasn’t the effect you were looking for?” she croaked, the biting sarcasm weakened by sounding like a 90 year old smoker.

“Don’t be ridiculous. If I wanted you tortured, I would have left you in Vanderbilt’s facilities. This was just a . . .complication. A fascinating one, to be sure.”

“Oh, well that makes it all worth it, then.”

The remark sent her into another coughing fit, throat on fire, and the doctor tsked her. 

 “You should speak as little as possible until your vocal chords heal. You’re due for more pain meds, by the way. Give me a thumbs up if you’re starting to hurt.”

She gave him the middle finger instead. 

“I’ll take that as a yes. Do you also acquiesce to tea with honey?”

Two middle fingers this time and a hateful glare. 

“Excellent. I’ll bring it right out."

He doted on her for the next few days, bringing tea and books on medieval history (including one on torture, which he handed to her with a smirk). Her vitals were checked with almost obsessive regularity, the ache of her muscles numbed with pain meds that he never failed to deliver on time. He never apologized for what happened to her, insisting it was nothing more than an “unfortunate complication”, but he seemed wordlessly contrite with his actions. 

Not that that made everything better. 

It just made things more confusing. Under soft blankets, sipping tea and reading about the Norman Conquest, she couldn’t help but feel lulled into sleepy contentment. 

When her muscles finally stopped twitching, the doctor walked in, rolling a cart with several syringes. The sight of it felt like a fist clenched around her lungs. 

“No!” she yelped, jerking back against the bed. “I’m not doing this again.”

He didn’t even look at her, his attention on rearranging the order of the syringes. “Of course you are; that’s why you’re here.”

He selected one, held it up to the light and tapped it before turning towards her.

“Get that fucking thing away from me,” she growled, scrabbling out of the bed.

 Her hands snatched the first thing she could find for a weapon — his book — and threw it at his head. It smacked him straight in the face, causing him to flinch and drop the syringe. 

She took the opportunity to run, shoving him as hard as she could when she passed him for good measure. The loud thud as he hit the wall echoed behind her as she careened down the hallway. At first victory sang in her blood, but the adrenaline quickly faded in the weakness of days spent lying in bed. Then a spare tremor hit her legs, sending her tumbling to her knees. 

It was all the doctor needed to catch up with her. Springing back to her feet, she had barely made it two more steps before the force of his body hit her from behind, shoving her  face first into the wall. 

“While I understand your reluctance, I really do not have time for it,” he murmured against her cheek, breath slightly ragged. 

She threw her weight against him as hard as she could but he did not budge behind her. For such a nerd, he was solid. His hands threaded themselves into her hair, yanking her head back and a sharp prick hit her neck. 

“Just remember,” he said as her world started to tilt, “when you wake up inevitably furious, that this could have all been avoided with your cooperation.”

The world returned to her slowly. First in images, then in sound. The doctor sat in a chair before her, scribbling in a notebook, the cart of syringes next to him. The sight of it sent her jerking back in instinct, but her body could not move. 

“Finally,” he said once he noticed her aborted movements. “I think I will have to adjust your dosage for next time.”

It took only seconds for her to realize she did not wake up in her bed, but in a padded, high backed chair, the kind with the extra wide arms for blood drawing. And she was strapped down from her forehead to her throat to her arms to her legs and feet. 

Panic dragged sluggishly up her chest, the drugs still weighing her down. But he had locked her body down tight. She couldn’t even twist her head away from the sight of him readying the needle. 

The Agency had prepped her for torture. They educated her on all the ways it could happen, all the effects it would have on her body, the different ways she could hold out. As horrifying as it was to sit through it all, it helped her by making it predictable.

This was not predictable. She had no idea how each drug would make her respond. And even worse -- neither did he. 

And that made this whole ordeal somehow more unbearable than her actual torture. She had never prepared for something like this. 

When his gloved hand swiped the alcohol wipe over her arm, the only thing that kept her from breaking down and begging him to stop was the fact that her tongue still felt thick and clumsy in her mouth. All that came out was a strangled, panicked no as the needle plunged in. 

For an agonizingly long moment they just stared at each other. He slipped his glasses off, tucking them away in the front pocket of his lab coat. The soft warmth of his dark brown eyes made her stomach squirm. It looked wrong, a predator’s disguise. A man like him did not deserve to have eyes like that. 

“Tell me your name,” he said.

She projectile vomited into his face in response. What followed were hours of intense nausea, unable to hold down even the water she used to down anti-nausea pills. Eventually the doctor injected something into her IV and sent her to sleep.

“Stop scratching. You’re going to cause scarring.”

She glared poison at him,  a rash climbing its way around her torso like poison ivy. The itching was unbearable.

“I would take literal torture over this,” she spat. 

“You’re one of the few people on this earth who could make such a claim,” he agreed with that pleasant nonchalance that made her want to throttle him. “Pull your shirt up. I brought you more cortisone cream.”

He made it himself and its smell burned her nose. She refused to touch it at first but the urge to scratch overwhelmed her and he threatened to put it on for her if she didn’t stop. That and the oven mitts and duct tape he had lying on the window sill, an unspoken threat. 

“When you’re done, we should go for a walk. It’s warm enough outside that you won’t need a jacket.”

She froze, staring at him wide eyed. “Outside? You’re taking me outside?”

“The weather is beautiful today. It’s a shame you can only experience it through your window. And the exercise might distract you.”

The cortizone cream was spread with lightning speed. She felt like a kid at Christmas — both hopeful and terrified of disappointment. The doctor graciously provided her with more durable house slippers, the kind with rubber soles, and guided her through the hall and out an innocuous door. 

 Behind the building, which looked like an innocent two story cottage, was a beautiful garden. Bordered by tall, lush hedges and trees, a gravel path wound its way around ordered raised flower beds and stands of rose bushes and irises. Spring sunshine filtered through the trees, dappling the patio and table and chairs. 

She swallowed thickly, suddenly overwhelmed. It was so beautiful and he didn’t deserve to have something like this and yet she was so so relieved to be there. The air smelled fresh and vaguely like salt. In the distance she could hear the low rumble of waves. 

He guided her along the walkway, pointing out the herbs growing in the beds, rambling on about the native plants and the kind of medicine you could make out of them. It felt rather like a scene from a regency novel, taking this “turn about the garden.” But she couldn’t find it in herself to be pissed about it. 

“It’s been several minutes without a caustic remark,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I take it you find this place satisfactory?”

“It’s okay,” she said, struggling for an air of nonchalance. She didn’t trust him not to use this place against her. 

“High praise indeed,” he drawled.

They took two more laps before he deposited her at the patio table. By this point exhaustion threatened at her edges though she tried valiantly to hide it. 

“Let’s not overdo it today,” he said with a knowing look. “Wait here and I’ll get us some tea.”

Sitting in the fresh air and sunshine as she waited, having freedom at the tips of her fingers but not the strength to take it, felt like the worst cruelty he had inflicted upon her so far. And the worst part was, she didn’t know if he even meant it as such.

The doctor reappeared only a few minutes later, humming and holding an honest to god tea tray, complete with china cups and a clear teapot. She made sure to watch him pour and sip his own drink before she helped herself. 

It was good tea. She hated how companionable their silence was becoming, how much she was getting used to his presence. And yet, some things still didn’t piece together.

“What makes me so valuable?” she asked. “Sure there are other ways to get information, other people to experiment on. But you said there was only one me.”

He turned his gaze away from the irises and slowly pulled down his dark glasses. His eyes looked as warm and comforting as the tea he made. 

“You should kiss me,” he said, gentle and inviting. “There’s no need to be afraid. You’ve been wanting to for a while now. You think about it all the time.”

“What?” she spluttered. Her eyes instinctively flickered down to his mouth before she jerked them away. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

He threw his head back and laughed, rich and deep. 

“That’s why,” he said, pushing his glasses back up. “My power is hypnosis. I can make anyone think or feel anything I want. Except for you. I’ve never met anyone whose power can cancel out other powers. I want to bottle it. Literally.”

“Bottle it?” she repeated numbly. “To use on other people?”

To use on her allies. Her friends. To take the one thing they depended on her and use it against them. 

She felt sick. 

“Of course. It could be useful in a wide variety of situations. And I have to admit, I’ve wondered if it would work on you. Can you nullify someone’s nullification powers? The answer would be fascinating either way.”

Dread gripped her insides with icy fingers, the mild spring sun feeling far away. 

“Just think -- if it did work on you, I would be able to break into your mind without hurting you. No torture ever again.”

He shot her what he probably thought was an encouraging smile. 

She threw up again. 

Let me know in a comment if you want to be tagged!

Taglist: @morning-star-whump

#hero x villain #my writing #enemies to lovers #villain x civilian #writeblr #whump #medical whump #whump writing #a lost cause

[mrsreinhart]

Lili Reinhart - Grazia Italia Interview

In the cult TV series Riverdale we met her as an always fearless heroine, often forced to confront others and with herself. But even in real life American actress Lili Reinhart, 26, has often found herself having to look within to overcome difficulties.

At 14, when she was already determined to pursue a career in acting, she was diagnosed with a form of depression. Very young, she went through anxiety attacks and various kinds of difficulties, not least that body dysmorphic disorder that leads her to see herself differently from others and to suffer from some physical characteristics that she perceives in a distorted way.

Reinhart has therefore become the champion of the battles for mental health and for the acceptance of different types of beauty. She didn't hesitate to expose herself even to a global celebrity like the queen of social networks Kim Kardashian: the actress found that losing so much weight and in a short time to get into a dress that belonged to Marilyn Monroe was not a good example for her women who have difficulty accepting their body.

At the Women in Film Gala 2022, Lili then received the Max Mara Face of the Future award, dedicated to emerging actresses. «My family», declared Maria Giulia Prezioso Maramotti, «has built a company that honors and celebrates women, above all in the arts. We wanted to award the prize to a young artist who embodies our values, but who is still evolving. What Lili is going in is an excellent direction to follow.

I meet Reinhart in Los Angeles, while she's curled up in the make-up artist's chair for Grazia's fashion shoot that you see in these pages. She remains seated for a long time with her legs pulled up to her chest, a position that evokes the tenderness of a little girl. But she talks to me about serious topics and does it with honesty and depth, even when it comes to revealing the most intimate aspects of her life. She became a global celebrity thanks to the character of Betty Cooper in the TV series Riverdale, which reached its seventh season.

Do vou ever think that the success of this role has somehow slowed down your career as an actress?

I am grateful to Riverdale for everything it has brought me. If I'm sitting here with her now, it's because of the success of the show. But at some point in life, it's time to move on."

Do you feel that you have something to prove to others or to yourself?

I've been acting since I was 12, l've come a long way since then, but I think I haven't yet fulfilled my potential. And this is a challenge for myself. I want the actors who inspire me to talk about me, I want to go far and deserve it. For the past seven years, I've been doing a teen show, Riverdale, with a style that isn't necessarily. what i prefer. But Riverdale it has been incredibly successful and takes up practically all my time, so it has been difficult for me to seize other opportunities

Have you had to make many job cuts?

Last spring I was offered a role that I wanted to play with all my heart, but unfortunately the dates did not reconcile with the filming of the show. It was devastating to say no.

What was she like as a child? Did you imagine that when you grew up?

| was an introvert, I lived in my own little world and I always felt a bit isolated. I think I have an old soul, with my peers I felt like a fish out of water and I didn't quite understand which was the right place for me. Just yesterday I was talking to my mother about when I enjoyed dressing up as a child. We had a box full of costumes we'd collected over the years, I even changed three times a day. I put on plays and plays for my family, I always wanted to perform. So, in the end, I moved on to the theater up to television and cinema.

Was performing a way of expressing yourself?

Some people are naturally outgoing, funny. I felt I could only be by performing. I was very insecure and acting gave me the opportunity to explore sides of my personality that I would not have known otherwise.

And i also brought out a very intimate and vulnerable side by writing a book of poems, Swimming Lessons: Poems ("Swimming lessons: poems").

Yes, it was a time in my life when I felt like I wanted to. to do something that came exclusively from me and over which I had total creative control. I was very nervous at first, because it was a bit like sharing a diary with people who were ready to judge it and judge me. As an actress I feel safe, as a writer I don't: hence the negative comments on mine. book strengthened my fears. I know that no one would have paid attention to my poems if Lili the actress hadn't signed them, but I never had the claim. to establish myself as a writer. I'm a romantic and I just wanted to share a different side of me.

Don't you think maybe you're too hard on yourself?

I internalize a lot, especially the criticisms. After all, poetry is the way I express my emotions. What I wanted to convey was not, "Look at me, I'm a writer." | wanted to tell the people who follow me that I am an absolutely normal human being: I have feelings, insecurities, I struggle and face life's challenges just like anyone else.

She has often spoken about her insecurities, especially physical ones, and is a spokesperson for the "body positivity" for the acceptance of all physicalities. Do you remember the first time dysmorphia, a disorder you suffer from,presented itself?

I have an average build and, when I began to get to know the world of fashion and clothes better, I met models with very different physiques from mine. There have been times when the clothes they offered just didn't fit me. So I said to myself: "Why don't I have a smaller physique?". When a dress designed for someone two sizes smaller than you doesn't fit, you start to think you're wrong and you have to do something to fit the clothes. But in a young woman these thoughts can hurt a lot.

I recently Today, however, she sees her photos everywhere. What does it feel? She likes herself?

I talked about this with my therapist. In fact, I feel like i live in a sort of perpetual comparison with other, more glamorous versions of myself. I started acting as a child and learned that my body is always changing. Today I accept myself more and judge myself less, however Hollywood doesn't want you to get old and puts pressure on you for it. Don't you think it's crazy that at 26 | worry about not having the same face as when I was 19? Of course I don't have it! Even the one in these photos is certainly a more beautiful version of me: I'm not like this every day. Constantly having to show a better image of ourselves can play tricks on us, because it can make us believe that our everyday version is not enough.

And how does she find a way to get everyone along these versions of itself?

I can't, they don't get along. There is my everyday self that reminds Lili of the glamor that looks like this only if she is surrounded by professionals who they make up and comb her hair. But I'm making peace with the fact that first I have to learn to be okay with each version of me. For example, I now have an acne breakout. Who sees them? Acne has always triggered severe mental and emotional distress in me. It makes me feel bad and makes it difficult for me to appear in public or take pictures without makeup because I know my skin would otherwise look different than everyone expects. Instead I should think that a rash doesn't take anything away from me, it doesn't define me. It's always me. Unfortunately it's a constant struggle: I live in a world that demands perfection and, at times, I think I've begun to demand it too. But then I think that everything happens for a reason and maybe the reason why acne always shows up on my face is because I have to learn to love every season my skin and my body go through because that's right. I'm a human being, not a mannequin.

I couldn't help but notice the tattoo on her right forearm: an arrow.

I did it around 18, 19. It represents my battle against depression: an arrow can only go forward if it is first pulled back. It's like saying that, once you hit rock bottom, you can only go back up.

In which direction is it pointing then?

Forward, always. My mental health has its ups and downs and this arrow reminds me that I always manage to get out of it, because I'm a tireless fighter.

But, during this fight, I hope she takes moments to appreciate what she has achieved.

I appreciate my battles, it is thanks to them that I am such a strong person. I wouldn't change anything about me. Having had the experience of depression leads me to experience moments of joy more intensely and makes me establish healthier and deeper relationships. The moments of discouragement have taught me so much about myself and it is right that I experience them and face them when they arise, rather than trying to escape.

She was cast as the Max Mara Face of the Future. How does this recognition make you feel?

It's a complicated feeling to explain. It's hard for me to accept that people see me this way. I almost feel like I have imposter syndrome, because I don't think I've shown my worth as an actress yet. I have exposed myself as an activist for body positivity and mental health, but in my work I think I haven't given my best yet. I'm waiting for that opportunity, which is on the horizon, but l'm waiting. So to receive the award before I've even been able to demonstrate what I think I can do as an actress is very encouraging. And I'm grateful because this recognition makes me understand that l'm already doing something good.

-Credit to lililovebots on Twitter for posting the interview.

#tried to translate the best I could #lili reinhart #grazia italy

[bodrewritten]

Daughter of Discord Rewritten Chapter 6: An Unusual Friend

When Screwball awoke that weekend it was nearly dawn. The midnight air thickened as the morning settled over her window. She often rose early, as it gave her the perfect opportunity to sneak out. She needed to clear her head.

After putting her hat on, she opened the door with a crack. Light gushed from the crack and illuminated her eyes and she squinted. Screwball saw that her parents were not yet awake. She floated into the air and slowly made her way to the front door. Seeing that she had not stirred them, Screwball transported outside of the colorful castle and crossed the bridge into the Everfree Forest.

Teleporting was harder than it looked. At her current age, the filly could travel no further than a few feet. Even that would leave her slightly dizzy. This is why she ran the rest of the way.

She came upon a brown lake, one she had found a few years ago the first time she had snuck out, The water had not been brown then. She had turned it into chocolate milk so the creatures of the forest would not come for a drink, so she would be left alone.

This was her sanctuary. This was where she could spread her chaos freely. No rules, no judgment, no ponies, just her and fun.

Miles away, in a forest much darker and more sinister than the Everfree Forest, Queen Chrysalis was sitting on her throne, plotting her next move. One of her servants approached cautiously.

The castle walls were riddled with organically geometric designs. A honeycomb or near steel hard shell echoed every flutter of wings against the hollow chambers. Thick brambles of thorns hid the place from any prying eye.

"Uh, your majesty?" he whimpered with a bow. "The prince is here to see you."

"Oh, yes," the queen muttered. "Let him come forth."

The changeling who approached was slightly different from the others. While he had a sleek black body with a green elektra, translucent wings and deformed legs, he had blue hair flowing down to his shoulders and green eyes with black pupils. He was quite young, a foal at that, a small male version of the queen. His eyes were the only indication that he was different from her aside from his being a male, since they were downturned, when his mother's were sharp and lifted up.

"Ah, the prince," she said with pride.

She stepped down from her throne to inspect his growth. She lifted his chin so that he may look into her eyes.

"Today's the day you go on your first hunt. If you are ever to one day rule as King, then you must be able to find food for your subjects. Are you ready, boy?"

The prince straightened up and held his head high. "I am, mother!"

"Show me! What is the first rule of hunts?"

"Do not get caught!"

"And the second rule?"

"Make sure the pony you change into is not around!"

"And our motto?"

"Love is weakness for the victim, but strength for us!"

"Excellent! Now, since you are still young, I suggest you keep your targets simple, perhaps a young foal of some sort. And steer clear of Canterlot. They are always on the lookout for 'suspicious characters.' And don't return until you've had enough to make me proud."

The prince nodded and took to the skies. He had not left the Changeling Forest without an escort before and was not familiar with the outside world. He gawked at the greenness of it all. He imagined what it would be like to roll in that soft grass.

He shook these thoughts out of his mind. He had a job to do.

His expedition led him to the Everfree Forest. The best way to catch an unsuspecting pony was in a closed area. He was not aware of the forest's danger or its lack of ponies. He landed on the path and began his search.

His ears perked up as he heard a noise. He hid in the bushes and listened again. It was soft, it was haunting. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard.

The sound guided him to a clearing. He gawked at the sight. Where trees should have been, there were enormous candy canes with slightly less enormous gumdrops surrounding them. The ground was pink with orange and green polka-dotted toadstools and swirly lollipops growing up from it. What sort of place was this?

The prince jumped as something emerged from the muddy lake. It was a filly looking about his age wearing a mask and snorkel. The thick brown water dripped from her curly purple and white mane and pink fur. As she started humming, the prince realized that beautiful melody had been coming from her.

The filly sighed. "Snorkeling can get boring."

A small dingy appeared beneath her, a newspaper hat atop her head. The prince was astounded, swearing that he had not seen her horn.

"Sailing, however," she smiled bright!

She summoned a small mast and pulled up a flag with a screw and baseball on it, matching her cutie mark. Then she made an eye patch appear over her eye.

"Argh!" she cried. "Ahoy, mateys! Next stop, Fillydelphia, where we shall rob them of their gold, their jewels, and their cream cheese!" The prince stifled a chuckle. This filly was quite amusing.

At that moment, something pounded hard inside the prince's chest. In a mere instant, perplexed as he was enchanted by this filly, he had forgotten to feed! The prince looked into the filly's mind for her loved ones. The first thing he saw startled him, for it was a mangled creature that he figured to be her pet. How cruel of these folk to force such a creature into captivity! Next was a pegasus that he assumed to be the mother. That would not do, He had not mastered adult transformations yet. Then he saw a unicorn filly with strange eyes.

"Well, I've never been to Greenland, And I've never been to Denver~!" She changed loudly in her deep voice. It was just slightly deeper than most young fillies, and he could tell she was in a choir class.

He closed his eyes and concentrated, adopting the pony's shape. In a blaze of green fire, he had turned into the unicorn. The disguised changeling jumped out of the trees and approached the sailing filly.

"There you are!"

Screwball shrieked in surprise.

"Dinky, what are you doing here?"

The prince gasped as the filly floated to shore, changing her paper hat into a propeller one. He then got a good look at her eyes as she removed the patch. They were unlike anything he had ever seen before and he could get lost in those hypnotic spirals.

"Dinky?"

He snapped out of his trance, remembering he was disguised as the unicorn filly (Dinky, was it?). He borrowed one of the excuses his mother taught him:

"I came looking for you! Your mother's worried sick!"

"But why are you out here?" Screwball asked, tilting her head. "Don't you know it's dangerous out here?"

"You're out here, aren't you?"

"Well yeah, but I can protect myself. Besides, I thought this forest scared you to death!"

The changeling hesitated. "Uh, yeah! But I got brave! Your mom's looking for you!"

He could feel the love on his tongue. Friendship was not the most filling of meals, but it had a decent taste. It was like a nice merengue.

Screwball, in the mean time, was growing suspicious. She could not explain it, but she could tell when ponies were lying and Dinky was not one to lie.

"You're not Dinky," she muttered, scowling.

The changeling's false eyes widened and then he laughed. "Don't be silly! Of course, I'm Dinky!"

He squealed as he was lifted by the tail off the ground. He faced his adversary upside-down. No! He could not be caught on his first hunt!

"Put me down! It's really me! I'm Dinky!"

"No, you're not!" the filly snapped, stomping her hoof. "Show yourself!"

Then the prince was unwillingly changed back to his true self. Screwball gazed at the creature in wonder. Swiss cheese legs, cobweb hair, a deformed horn, insect-like wings: she had never seen anything like it before.

"What are you?" she asked, circling around him.

"How did you do that?!" the prince demanded, finally noticing something about the filly. "More importantly, how did you do that without a horn?"

"That's none of your business! Who do you think you are, posing as my friend? Impersonating ponies is a crime!"

"Answer my question! Who are you and what are you doing here?!"

"But how did you know…?"

He waved his forelegs desperately. "Look, I don't want any trouble! I was just so hungry and…"

The filly's mouth broke into a smile. "Well, why didn't you say so?"

The prince cried out as she dropped him. He rubbed his head in pain.

"If you're hungry, I can just give you something!" Screwball said cheerfully. "You like cotton candy?"

"Huh?" he uttered.

"How about chocolate milk?"

"What is that?"

Screwball gasped as if she had witnessed a murder. "You've never had chocolate milk?! What sick, twisted home did you grow up in?! Oh well. I'd say it's about time you tried it."

She summoned a glass and dipped it in the lake. She handed it to the changeling, who looked at it like he had no idea what to do with it.

"Go on, drink it!" the filly urged.

He cringed. "You insist I drink... mucky water?"

"It's not mucky water. It's chocolate milk! Trust me, you'll love it!"

He figured he should tell her that he did not eat or drink, but for some reason he did not want to disappoint this filly. He was still trying to process how she had unmasked him and why she had not run away by now. So he hesitantly took the glass and raised it to his lips.

His eyes shot open as the liquid touched his tongue. He then chugged the rest of the contents down his throat. It tasted like an earthy orangish-yellow with bright green swirls. It tasted organic and ancient, like a groovy, warm R&B track.

"This stuff is amazing!" he exclaimed. "It tastes just like love!"

Screwball tilted her head. "Mrs. Sparkle says it's because chocolate makes the love part of your brain work like being in love does!"

She giggled as the peculiar colt scooped his glass into the lake. She still did not know what he was.

"I've never seen a creature like you before," she stated.

"I could say the same about you," the prince said, looking her over. "How do you do all this without a horn? And your eyes are very…"

"Strange, I know."

"fascinating."

She beamed and puffed out her chest with pride. "I'm the only one of my kind!"

"Really? Oh, what I would give to be the only one of my kind!"

"Why? Are there many of you?"

He fiddled with his glass. "I have about five thousand sisters at home."

"Five thousand?!" Screwball exclaimed in disbelief. "Golly! Imagine the grocery bills!"

The prince burst into laughter. "Actually, we get our food from…"

He trailed off as they heard a loud roar in the distance. The foals turned to see a large manticore leap out of the trees. He was in a furious state, waving his scorpion stinger frantically. The prince grabbed Screwball's hoof.

"we need to run!"

He practically lifted her off the ground as he pulled her along. She was amazed at how strong he was, considering he was slightly smaller than she was.

"But I can…" she tried to protest.

"Wait!" she cried, tugging herself out of his grasp.

"the strength of a territorial manticore can topple trees!" the changeling spat!

The manticore kept wailing.

She ignored him and approached the roaring beast. "Easy, boy!" Screwball cried.

This time, the creature stopped and turned his attention to the filly.

"she's a female, Her mane is large and her colors are less vibrant..." He trembled.

"then she's likely just protecting her cubs."

"That's better," she said, nuzzling his paw with her snout. "It's okay. I won't hurt you."

"You won't hurt her?" the prince uttered.

The manticore nodded with a smile and vanished into the forest. The prince stared at the filly in awe.

Screwball looked up at the manticore with a slow blink. She lowered her stature and stepped back. She spoke only in body movement, squiggling and squaggling along like a bee on a string.

"How did you…?"

"Mom told me to show every beast a little kindness," Screwball explained. "I let her know that we won't mess with her territory."

"That was amazing! You were…" he paused as he and the filly locked eyes. "You must be the bravest pony I've ever met."

She pulled him into a gentle embrace. "You were pretty brave yourself, trying to get me out of danger. Hey! We weren't properly introduced. My name's Screwball."

He raised an eyebrow. "Screwball? That's weird."

"take it up with my parents, I dunno."

"No, I mean it's weird, because my name is Mothball."

She gasped. "We're both balls! Hey, you want to hang out?"

Prince Mothball blinked, as if he had never heard the expression before. "Hang out?"

"Yeah! I don't have school today. We can play all morning!"

"Play?"

She tilted her head at him. "What's the matter? Don't you know how to play?"

He said nothing.

"Oh. Well, I'll teach you!"

The prince was skeptical about this. He should really be returning to the hive, but he was feeling so strange around this pony. He assumed it was because of the positive emotions emitting from her to his stomach. His mother had told him not to return until his belly was full, and he could obey that command by staying with the girl.

"Well…" he stammered. "May I have more of that chocolate milk?"

Screwball giggled. "Sure."

Neither of them noticed, high above the trees, the insectoid scout lieutenant prying into the scene.

#mothball has synesthesia #thye have a kind of spock/kirk dynamic with a bit of marcille/falin and thats the ONLY way i can describe it #mlp fim #my little pony friendship is magic #daughter of discord rewritten #chapter 6 #mothball mlp #screwball mlp #romance #shipping #early 2010s #fanfiction #fankid #fluttercord #fimfiction #changeling

[abyssal-ali]

time, curious time/cutting me open then healing me fine

Rating: T

Pairing: implied Draco Malfoy x Harry Potter but can be read as platonic Drarry

TW: Minor character death at the beginning but the time travel fixes it; I never claimed to understand time turners; many things are probably not as canon, but considering it’s a crossover and time travel fix-it, assume anything not-happening-as-canon is because of the time travel shenanigansery :D. oh and some Avada'ing but it's just Death Eaters so it's fine:)

WC: 3k ao3 Masterlist

A/N: Happy Birthday, Ella!<3 I created this crack time travel fix-it just to write you a fic that explains the Cedric/Edward doppelganger-ism. I hope you like it! Many thanks to @sarcasticbambi for her usual wonderful betaing job<3

Yes, you read this right. It's a crack Harry Potter x Twilight fic. I have no explanation or excuse.

May 2, 1998

Dust and cold grey wisps of cloud swirled around the ruins of Hogwarts, the wind blowing the young man’s hair into his face. The pale blond strands had come loose from all the dueling and drama earlier that day. Taking the opportunity to subtly rub his eyes as he fixed his hair, Draco Malfoy erased any trace of sorrow over the fallen, both friends and enemies.

He crossed the courtyard, sidestepping piles of rubble and crumbled statues, past a wall, a pale hand sticking out from under it. By the broken-down stairs, a body curled up, seeming asleep or grieving, perhaps. Ignoring the faint shouts and spells being cast by the winners scattered around the remains of the school, he carefully laid a hand on their shoulder. 

The curls gave away who it was, but Hermione didn’t react at all. Draco hadn’t expected her to; the entire Trio had fallen in action. The Weasel lay a little further beyond the Mudblood, and Draco knew that the Boy-Who-Lived was now the Boy-Who-Died, lying with his fallen compatriots.

He refused to go near them.

His lips curling into a sneer, he apparated back to Malfoy Manor. Lucius and Narcissa were with the Dark Lord, no doubt setting up as the new ruler of the Wizarding World’s right-hand family.

The vault was easy enough to get into – he’d been in it more than enough times as he was laden down with items to be a showcase for the Malfoy family’s wealth and prosperity.

This time, he left the vault, seemingly with nothing to show for his two-minute excursion.

With one last look around his old home, he activated what he had found.

~~~

November 20, 1994

The fuss about Potter being selected as a second Hogwarts Champion by the Goblet of Fire was ridiculous. Clearly, Potter hadn’t wanted to be chosen, and the judges all knew that it was difficult for someone to tamper with the relic. 

Draco huffed as he passed yet another hallway full of students whispering about the uncommon results. Why they continued to whisper about something strange happening around someone whose very existence should have been impossible was beyond him. 

The flutter of wings sounded just before the weight of his eagle owl, Ulixes, landed on his shoulder. A paper wrapped around its leg caught his eye, and he untied the string holding the missive to his owl. 

Unfurling the paper, a smirk took over his features as he read. 

Excellent. 

Things should proceed much more smoothly now.

~~~

June 18, 1995

The days coming up to the Third Task weren’t any less nerve-wracking for Draco than the Trio, with his own machinations to plot. Thankfully, the Trio was too busy preparing for the final test to pay much attention to him, although he did miss his daily verbal spars with Potter and occasionally Granger.

Nothing could go wrong. He was ruined if they were even a minute late.

Checking the time, he cast a series of spells and slipped out of his room in the Slytherin dungeons. 

The Forbidden Forest was quite dark, only a tiny speck of light from the giant’s hut visible through the screen of thick trees and cloudy mist. Draco huffed as he rubbed his hands together, a thin stream of breath spiraling up to the moon.

A branch cracked behind him, and he turned.

Several cloaked individuals emerged from the shadows.

“Malfoy?”

His lips curved in a smirk. Oh yes, it was all coming together.

~~~

June 24, 1995

The crowd cheered as Cedric walked out in his Hufflepuff yellow and black, escorted by his father, Amos; the happy blaring of the band provided an upbeat mood to the third task.

Crabbe, Goyle, and Draco sat in the midst of the crowd, a bold red “Krum” painted on Crabbe’s forehead as they cheered for the competitors entering the arena.

Diggory nodded back at Potter as they entered the maze. The third task had begun.

It was rather boring to be watching an empty arena, the only visible things being tall walls of plants. Draco climbed down the bleachers, leaving his cronies behind, muttering about knowing a better spot for a more exciting view.

Once he was safely away from the crowd, who were mindlessly fascinated by the entrance of the maze – for Merlin’s sake, it wasn’t even the exit – he apparated to the spot where his acquaintances were waiting.

The cloaked figures emerged from the shadows at his appearance.

“Are you ready?” he asked one final time. They nodded.

A flash of blue light filled the space as the Cup port-keyed the Hogwarts champions to the Little Hangleton graveyard.

Draco sneered as he watched Potter realize where he ended up. Of course, the bloody git had shared the victory with Diggory.

“Cedric! We need to leave! I’ve seen this place in my dreams!” Potter frantically tried to get his teammate’s attention, but he was captivated by the discovery of the Cup being a Portkey.

“Cedric!”

Pettigrew slithered out from the dark, his wand glowing green as he cast the Killing Curse.

“No!” Potter yelled, seeing Diggory’s pale face lying still against a grave. 

Draco had to admit to himself that it was a fitting place to die – you could be buried right there and save a lot of hassle for the living.

Outwardly, he sighed and dusted off his robes, his wand tip glowing green. What was another?

“Avada Kedavra!”

Potter’s face remained frozen in shock and horror as Pettigrew collapsed.

The weak, wheezing chuckles of the incorporeal being in Pettigrew’s arms annoyed Draco.

“Well done, just like your father. I suppose you will have to take Pettigrew’s place as my servant for this part. Get some of Harry Potter’s blood and put it in that cauldron.”

“This is for you, my lord.” Draco bowed low mockingly. “Avada Kedavra.” 

A sound like the wind rushed through the air as the green light hit the pale head of the once-Dark Lord.

Grimacing, Draco wiped his hand down his pants as he realized his wand was uncomfortably sweaty. Apparently, facing your worst nightmare and killing the one who killed your lo- your rival was a stressful situation.

The black-cloaked figures behind him fanned out, two darting over to the Hufflepuff’s body while he turned to Potter.

“You’re welcome.”

“W-what did you do?” asked Potter, thoughtlessly taking the hand Draco extended to help him up.

Honestly, did he have no self-preservation at all? How had he survived until the end of the Second Wizarding War at all?

He’d just killed two people!

Draco tsked.

“I just rid you of your archnemesis, and you ask what I did?”

“But- why? Your family-”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Did no one ever tell you not to look too hard at someone who casts a Protego for you?”

Potter sputtered, and Draco shook his head. 

“But Cedric-”

“Potter, I need you to trust me.” Draco stared into Potter’s blue eyes. “Do you trust me?”

Potter paused.

“Yes.”

Draco sighed, relieved. “Then just follow my lead and do what I say, and I’ll explain everything later.”

“Okay,” Potter nodded obediently.

Draco fished a vial from the depths of his robe’s pockets and popped the cork on the Polyjuice Potion. Downing it with a grimace, he waited to take the form of a fully revived Voldemort.

“Protego. Fianto Duri.”

With Potter sufficiently shielded, he turned his wand to the dark, heavily clouded sky. “Morsmordre.”

Draco turned his back on Potter and awaited the apparating of the Death Eaters, including his father.

“Ah, my loyal soldiers,” he began, channeling his best Voldemort, figuring that having been raised around and served under him for years would help him impersonate the dark wizard long enough to fool the Death Eaters, who hadn’t seen the Dark Lord in quite a while.

The obnoxious wizards and witches paid their respects, and Draco couldn’t help wondering if Voldemort ever got tired of the insincerity and fear surrounding his servants or if it was something he relished.

On Draco’s part, it was repulsive, and he couldn’t wait for his self-inflicted farce to end.

“I see that some of you have not come to my aid despite my symbol in the sky,” he intoned, stalling for time.

“To prove your loyalty, I wish for you all to give me your wands for this moment. Fear not; if you have been loyal, you will be rewarded beyond your vastest imagination,” he breathed. “For we will take over Hogwarts, and then – the entire Wizarding World will be unable to stop us! Potter,” he spat, “is already under my command now that I am in my form. Wands!”

The Death Eaters exchanged worried-yet-attempted-nonchalant glances, handing their wands over to him.

“Excellent.” The high, breathy voice of the Dark Lord was irritating to copy and made him inwardly cringe, but Draco carried through.

“Stupefy!”

The lot of the Death Eaters were momentarily stunned and knocked unconscious. Draco took advantage of that time to cast a Petrificus Totalus and Mimblewimble and ensure they couldn’t wake up and cause mischief. 

“Potter, I’m taking the Death Eaters to Hogwarts. I cast an Anti-Disapparition jinx here, so you can’t apparate. Take this bottle; it’s a port-key to Hogwarts.” Draco nodded at a bottle standing on a grave a row away, undoing the protective spells around Potter.

With a nod at the cloaked figures that Potter had mostly ignored, he grabbed the bottle when Potter did, flashing back to Hogwarts.

Draco looked around, noting that they’d ended up outside McGonagall’s office.

“Potter, get Dumbledore and McGonagall and the Ministry of Magic members that are here.”

With a nod, Potter ran off.

The sheer chaos that surrounded the group approaching him let him know that that was definitely the people in charge. They were always making a big fuss about everything. Draco shook his head.

The group paused when they turned the corner and saw Draco, still appearing as Voldemort, wondering if Harry had been Imperio’d, and if this was a trap.

“It’s Draco,” Potter reiterated and approached him. 

Stupid, fearless Gryffindors.

“Look, he brought the Death Eaters for you.”

Draco dropped his wand with the pile of Death Eaters’, holding his hands up defensively. “It’s me, Draco Lucius Malfoy. I’m using a Polyjuice Potion.”

A quick Revelio from McGonagall confirmed his identity.

“I believe that we can pause our questions for Mr Malfoy while we take care of the more pressing matter at hand?” she raised an eyebrow, daring the Ministers to argue.

Draco knew he wasn’t that brave and wasn’t surprised when no one spoke up.

“Then I believe that Mr. Potter here can wait with Mr. Malfoy in my office while we deal with this…gift he has left us.”

With a short smile, McGonagall opened the door to her office for him and Potter to enter while the rest of the crowd took charge of the Death Eaters.

“You’re even turning your dad over?” Potter’s large eyes stared at him from the chair opposite him in front of McGonagall’s desk.

Draco shrugged. “He’s a Death Eater. Good riddance. He’d never be proud of me, no matter what.” Shifting uncomfortably at what he’d said and the remembrance of the things he’d done before he used his Time Turner, he turned away from Potter’s curious gaze.

“Thank you for everything you did, Draco.”

Shrugging, he closed his eyes.

His rest was promptly interrupted by the door opening and Cedric Diggory running inside. “Did it work?”

Potter gasped. “Cedric! You’re alive!” He hugged the Hufflepuff, looking him over for any damage.

“Potter, Diggory is fine. You’re acting like a house elf. Sit back down.”

Ignoring the little twinge of jealousy poking his blood-pumping organ, Draco wandlessly and wordlessly summoned a chair over to the other two.

Potter made a noise that Draco also ignored, pleased that Potter had sat in the chair by Draco’s side and not the one he’d initially been seated in.

Diggory took a seat and opened his mouth, but Draco tutted.

“I’d prefer to explain this as few times as possible. Can you wait until the Ministers come back before you interrogate me?”

Diggory nodded and grinned at Potter. “I’m alright, mate. Draco will explain later, but I’m perfectly fine. You don’t need to worry.” Potter sighed in relief and settled deeper into his chair that Draco may have subtly cast a Spongify on.

The Ministers and Professors arrived surprisingly quickly from where they had been dealing with the Death Eaters, and McGonagall quickly enlarged and soundproofed her office before the interrogation officially started.

Extra chairs were summoned, a recording charm cast and they began.

“I’m Draco Lucius Malfoy. I used a Time Turner to come back here last autumn, and I’ve been disguising myself as my younger self since then. I came from three years in the future, when the Second Wizarding War was over. Voldemort won, and most of you were dead.

“I used a Time Turner from the Malfoy vault to come here and prevent that from happening again. I didn’t want to go too far back and mess up the timeline. I had one chance since the Ministry’s stash of Time-Turners was destroyed, and if I went back too far, I could cause a worse outcome.

Fourth year was the furthest I dared.

“Using my knowledge of future events, I created a plan to stop the Second Wizarding War from ever starting – which it would have, tonight, had I not stepped in.

“I recalled scraps of information I had gathered on fellow Hogwarts students and especially information I found out when I dug through Ministry official’s families to contact some people I thought would be willing to help.

“Amos Diggory, your aunt married an American and moved to the United States with her husband, Edward Masen. They had a son, Edward, Jr. Interestingly, their family line dropped off there, yet I was still able to trace their descendant across America.”

Draco paused, relishing in the impressed and happily surprised faces surrounding him (particularly Potter’s).

“I found Edward Masen, Jr., now Edward Cullen, and his adoptive family – or should I say coven. The Cullen coven of vampires was eager to help one of their own’s old family, and so they came to Hogwarts at my behest.

“I was surprised to discover that Edward Cullen looks identical to his first cousin once removed, Cedric Diggory, but it made my plan much more simple. I was forced to corner Diggory and explain some things to him, but he agreed to my plan.” Draco nodded shortly at Diggory, who nodded back with a slight smug smile.

“Edward replaced Cedric in the Third Task. I was able to teach him and his family some basic spells they would need for tonight. In the original timeline, Cedric was killed by Peter Pettigrew, who then revived Voldemort to his corporeal body and dueled Potter. Neither won, as their wands were brothers and thus began the SWW. It continued until May 1998, when the side against the Dark Lord was defeated, and I returned to November 1994.”

Draco paused, unsure of how what he was about to say would be received. “Tonight, I waited with the Cullens at the graveyard for Cullen-as-Diggory and Potter to port-key via the Cup. Pettigrew cast the Killing Curse at Cullen, which, as a Living Dead, caused him to be knocked unconscious. 

“I cast the Killing Curse at Pettigrew, who had the Dark Lord, then at Voldemort. I used a Polyjuice Potion I brewed myself in the future to take Voldemort’s appearance and then summoned the Death Eaters. I pretended I was testing their loyalty and had them give me their wands. Once they were disarmed, I stunned and petrified them to prevent any wandless spells, then used a port-key I created and placed there ahead of time to bring us to Hogwarts, where I sent Potter to fetch you.”

A knock sounded on the door, and Draco let in the Cullens with a now-awake Edward by their side.

Amos Diggory stared between his son and his cousin, stunned by their identical appearance.

The rest of the Ministry gathered there ignored the interruption, working through the information Draco had just dumped on them. 

~~~

June 25, 1995

Potter lingered awkwardly around the corner from the group of Slytherin students, all overlooking the courtyard.

Draco sighed at the sight of Potter’s messy brown hair ducking in and out of the alcove.

He sent Crabbe and Goyle away, hoping that if he was alone, Potter would pluck up that famous Gryffindor courage and approach him.

It seemed to work, as a couple of minutes later, Potter was at his elbow as he bit into an apple. 

“Draco?”

“Potter.”

“Can you tell me more about the future you came from?”

“Really, Potter?” Draco scoffed, idly watching Granger be kidnapped by two identical redheads to help with some mischief below them. “You haven’t been traumatized enough?”

Potter scratched the back of his neck. “I just think it would be nice to know what happened in case any events repeat themselves. You’ll be going back to the future soon, right? How did you even stay as long as you did?”

“Wizarding secret, Potter, and I’m staying here.”

“But- two Dracos in the same timeline will create a par-”

“I know what I’m doing,” he interrupted. “Relax; the timeline won’t collapse, and you won’t be called upon to fix it. Voldemort is dead now; we’ve made sure. Go back to just studying and playing Quidditch.”

Potter snorted. “Malfoy, I’ve never ‘just’ studied and played Quidditch. Ever since I learned about this world, I’ve been fighting for my life or tackling plots from Slytherins with daddy issues while I wait for the guy who wants me dead to attack so I can defeat him and his attempt to take over the wizarding world.”

Draco fell silent, and Potter’s perspective of the past four years.

“I’m sorry for everything, Potter.”

Potter shifted his weight from foot to foot before extending his hand. “Thanks. You said Voldemort’s gone…Think we can start again?”

Draco’s mouth twitched in a genuine smile as he shook Potter’s hand. “Hello, I’m Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Fourth-Year.”

“Harry Potter, Gryffindor Fourth-year. Nice to meet you, Draco.”

“Likewise, Harry.”

#ali writes #fic #harry potter fic #harry potter x twilight #drarry fic #harry potter x twilight fic

[squill79]

Where Have I Been?

This is a story that went in a VERY different direction than I originally intended. I originally had a strong idea for the beginning and ending, but didn't know what I wanted to put in the middle. As I figured out, I began to realize that the original ending I had in mind didn't really fit with where the story was heading, but I ultimately like where this story went. This is another one that's kinda dark in some areas haha. Enjoy!

These past few months have been the worst of my life. My wretched illness has left me trapped in this miserable hospital for what feels like an eternity. With my body not long for this Earth, I await my inevitable end. But there's one thing that keeps me going, that keeps me alive. My beloved granddaughter, Emma, likely the sweetest little girl I've ever known. When she was little, we would always get ice cream together, take daytrips to the zoo or the museum, one time I even let her help me paint the house. She's older now, 13 if I remember correctly, but she still manages to make time for me. Every Sunday her and her mom will visit my room, give me flowers, tell me about her week, and tell me she wishes I felt better. I am truly grateful for her, and await her visit tomorrow as considering my condition, it may be our last time together. But for now it is about time I get some shut eye and prepare to be bombarded with her love and affection.

It's the middle of the night and I awaken from my slumber. I hear a nasally voice echoing in my ears. "Hey wake up. Wake up, old man", it says noisily on repeat. I finally open my eyes in anticipation of a nurse letting me know I wet myself again, but what I witness instead is what appears to be a floating child with wings, completely catching me by surprise.

"What the hell are you?", I ask in fear and confusion.

"Don't worry, don't worry! I'm your guardian angel! I'm not gonna hurt you!"

"Guardian angel? You mean all that biblical garbage is real?"

"Well sort of, you guys misinterpreted A LOT of stuff, but that's not the point".

"Well then why are you here?"

"I'm here to give you your death warrant!"

"My... my what?"

"Your death warrant! We're supposed to give you a one-day notice before you die but uh... well I'm new at this... sorry". The angel proceeded to hand me a slip of paper informing me the time of my death.

"THIS SAYS I DIE AT 2 IN THE MORNING!" I began to have a panic attack. "But I can't! I have to see my granddaughter!" I stared at the clock. It was nearing midnight. I have two hours to see Emma for the last time.

"Well, you better get to it then".

"But how do I get out of here without anyone noticing? Can you do something?"

"Sorry, I'm not allowed to interact with the human world. Them's the rules".

"Well isn't that just excellent? I get to die here without even so much as a last look at my granddaughter! Real excellent job, my so-called guardian angel".

"Look I didn't make the rules, I merely enforce them. We can't let humans know of our existence until the day before their death". They continued to ramble on about the arbitrary set of rules they're forced to follow. I didn't listen. I was searching for my matches.

"Found 'em!"

"What? Found what? Were you igno-". They were cut off by the entire room being ignited in flames. I quickly sprinted out, but not without my right leg being scorched by the fire I had started. This gave me an opportunity to escape, as the staff diverted their attention towards the burning room, allowing me to slip by. I worried my coughing may draw attention to me, but everyone was so distracted by the fire that I managed to get by undetected. Before I had left the building, I seized the receptionists' keys from her desk without her managing to catch it. She is friends with my daughter so I knew which car was hers. I admittedly felt a twinge of guilt for my act of theft, she was always kind to me, but it's a sacrifice that must be made. As I began to start the car up, my guardian angel returned out of seemingly thin air. "YOU SET FIRE TO A HOSPITAL! ARE YOU CRAZY?"

"I did what had to be done. Nobody was in that room, chances are no one was hurt". As I put my hands on the steering wheel I noticed the flesh on my hands begin to deteriorate. I stared in shock for a moment, pondering what was becoming of me. My guardian angel eventually picked up on my confusion.

"That happens right before you die. Your skin will begin to rot like a banana". At this point I only had an hour and a half left. I began to drive as fast as I could with no concern for the speed limit. I drove straight through every stop signs and red light I encountered. It was almost exhilarating actually. In my last moments of life I was partaking in the type of reckless behavior and hadn't gotten myself into since I was in my twenties. My guardian angel of course, was not pleased with my actions. "Don't you think you should slow down? You might hurt someone".

"I don't have time to slow down. My daughter's house is still miles away and I have such little time. And besi-". As I was speaking, I had driven head on into another car. Glass penetrating my already rotting skin. But that won't matter for much longer. I stumbled out of the wrecked car and found the nearest bike. I hadn't caught a look at the state of the person in the other vehicle. I hopped on the bike and proceeded to ride off, when my guardian angel intervened.

"Look pal, I can't sit here and let this continue. Far too many people have been hurt by your actions. If you don't quit, not only will I leave your side, but your soul will be damned to the eternal pit of hell". Truth be told, I hadn't even believed in a heaven or hell before this point. Although it did not sound ideal, I was willing to make this gambit for the sake of saying my goodbye's to Emma.

"I'm sorry, but this is something that I must do".

"Well, I suppose this is where we part ways". They appeared solemn as I rode the bike away. I felt a little bad in a way. They seemed like a fine person, but they served no help to me, so they weren't a major loss.

At this point my skin rot had encompassed my entire torso. I had less than an hour left, but her house was only a few blocks away. I was nearly there. As I was riding however, my age began to catch up with me. I could feel myself getting exhausted from all of the adrenaline I had been experiencing. I could feel my eyes begin to close, when all of a sudden, I was jolted awake again, as I had been thrown off my bike due to colliding with a sharp rock. My body scraped against the sidewalk, blood expelling from every cut in my skin. With a hole in its front tire, the bike was no longer usable. I trudged on on-foot, as it was my only option left.

I continued to march for miles. I had come too far now to give up. Too many people have been hurt for this to all be for nothing. I only had about ten minutes left. My body was almost entirely deteriorated. At a certain point, my legs had given up on me, but I determinedly crawled on. It was my mission to see her one last time before my soul egressed from this mortal realm. With the last of my strength, I crawled to my destination. Finally, I reached the house. Now it would all be worth it. I slowly began to stand up, preparing to knock on that door and be greeted by the child who admired me. But as I took one last look at my burned, penetrated, scraped, decaying body, I began to question if it was all worth it. What would she think of me? How would she react to the person I have become this night? Is this how I want her to remember me? And as I had pondered the current state of my ethics and moral code, my body collapsed on the ground. And then... I was gone.

#storytelling #writing

[h0rribleicky]

So it’s been a few days of this now and I have a real sense of clearness and spaciousness inside. I definitely have access to some realms that I didn’t previously. My body is very much struggling to keep up with my mind, I feel weird. I feel very good but conflicted. I feel I’ve been given a gift (and I’m trying to figure out whether I brought it on myself in some way or whether the universe gave it me) and I mustnt squander it, things are coming together in my mind and I’m just working on optimising these urgent things and keeping it all together, I’m keeping moving, working on my projects, fulfilling, but my body isn’t able to move in the same way as my mind. Brain only needs/wants 2-4 hours sleep, that’s all I’ve been getting the past few days, but body has ME so this hurts physically. Brain needs to move and to be with people, needs to appreciate and utilise the spark of the world and all the things that have opened up for me and the maps I need to figure out, body doesn’t have the capacity for this. I can feel a tingling in my skin all over inside that is the capacity trying to fulfil itself and listening to music makes it link up if I can listen to more than 500 minutes ish of the correct songs in order.

I am slightly concerned about the physical constraints at play here. Body is suppressing me. I’ve been given a beautiful opportunity and the circumstances of my body through no fault of its own are suppressing me.

But it’s ok! I talked it through with mom and I’m not wasting anything. I feel good. I had cheese and crackers and it was so amazing and it felt like when I had it as a kid. I’ve been writing for about 10 hours a day and I picked up several new things and carried on an old thing that I abandoned a year ago!! Beautiful. I feel happy. I feel important. Been listening to music for 10-18 hours a day and sorting my songs and things have been crafted to come together and it’s all okay. I am NOT wasting this. There’s nothing to waste. I wonder what it woul be like if I could use this openness inside ans not have ME, but it’s okay that I do have ME. I feel like now would be the perfect time to get into a relationship. I feel I would be really good at it. I messaged K.

I mentioned some things to mom trying to share my feelings but it all came out in a way that she wasn’t receptive to. I love her very much though. She’s golden. She practically has a glowing soul, I love her face. I mentioned that every individual/personal religious experience that humans have had on planet earth, I have access to, I can feel inside, and that’s part of (not the whole thing) why I’ve been able to work this way lately. I feel untouchable!!!!!!! I do feel a bit confused that my body isn’t keeping up because my mind is in such a wonderful place, really just a place of excellence and skill and spaciousness, and I’m seeing signals and putting together things that I already knew but didn’t have access to. Very important that I keep listening to the music because it’s coming together. Mcr have a new leg of the tour RIGHT NOW and my phone JUST updated its operating system AND there are 2 new albums within the next month AND Radiohead came to me and found me. Feels very good, feels very sincere.

#txttxt #march 23

[estarllita]

yellowjacket - prologue

summary: All Eila Byrd wants out of the world is freedom, but the world is cruel and won't allow that to happen.

warnings: descriptions of violence, characters are aged-up (18 when they enter the cadets), blood

pairing: armin x reader (eventually)

words: 1.9k

author's notes: This is a re-do of my first fic I posted of the same name. I'm much happier with this version than the original. I'm slowly realizing I hate fanfics written in first person.

ao3 link

Present Day

***

“Excels in all forms of combat training. Her skill using ODM gear is far above any of the other cadets. She is incredibly reckless during mission training, failing to follow the chain of command time and time again, but she always comes back successful.” 

Eila narrowed her eyes as the man leaned back in the chair. His feet were kicked up on the table, balancing on the back two legs of the chair. A file was opened haphazardly on the table, the man’s eyes flicking back to it occasionally as he spoke. 

“Her skills in combat don’t match her skills in the classroom. She barely passed her final exams with a C-. She graduated 17th in her class. Ineligible for the MP regiment.” The man takes a long drag on his cigarette, smoke billowed from his mouth towards the ceiling- disappearing in the dim light of the room. 

“Sound like you’re kinda stupid, if you asked me.”

Elia growled at the man, strained against the ropes tying her to the chair. She could hear some chuckles coming from some of the other people in the room. 

She clenched her fists and attempted to pull apart her wrists again. With the limited mobility, she reached for her pocket in search of the knife she kept there. She slumped her shoulders when she didn’t find it. 

“What do you want?” She asked boldly. The man threw his head back in laughter. Kicking his feet off the table, he stomped his way over to her. Taking a handful of hair, he pulls her head back to meet his eyes. Eila scrunched her nose in disgust when the smell of booze and cigarettes hit her.  

“Who said you could speak? Apparently, you didn’t learn your fucking lesson.” He pulled her hair back more and she let out a yelp. “You’ll learn quickly enough. I’ll beat the disobedience out of you if I have to.” Elia growled again, snapping her jaw in a shameless attempt at a bit. 

“You guys, I think she’s feral.” A voice in the crowd hollard. The rest of the group laughed. The man loosened his grip on the back of Eila’s head a second too long. She took the opportunity to throw her head back and headbutt the man. He stumbled back with a growl- grabbing her hair again and throwing her and the chair to the ground. 

She landed on the ground with an ‘omph’ and a groan. The fall knocked the ropes tying her feet loose enough for her to kick them off. Using the momentum from her kicking she rolled from her side to her knees and rose to her feet, even if she was slumped over slightly from the awkward position. 

Surveying the room quickly, she noted there were four other people in the room besides her and the man. She threw herself and the chair back in hopes it would shatter. Eila groaned when she realized her attempt to break the chair did nothing. 

A hook flew past her head and Elia followed the line to find a shoe catapulting towards her. Ducking, she used the force from the person flying above her head to finally break the chair. 

Noting the open bar door, Eila jumped as a sweeping kick came from below. She laughed wildly when her feet landed on the ground and she gave a quick kick to the lackey’s head, knocking him out. She threw her head back and laughed more. Turning her eyes to face the man, she found him in the corner smoking another cigarette clearly opting to watch the battle from a distance. 

Another hook came flying in Eila’s direction, she dodged it with a roll. Elia grabbed a fallen knife from the ground, cutting the ropes on her wrist. 

Now free, she moved behind the bar, her quick thinking helping her dodge the bullets flying in her direction. She reached up to the wall of bottles, throwing them at her attackers in an attempt to distract. Once she hears the sounds of the guns firing slow, she throws a few more for good measure before emerging from her hiding place. 

Elia runs through the doors dragging the unconscious attacker with her by firing an anchor to a building outside and retracting the cable. Lucky for Eila, the anchor pulled the pair through an open window. Closing the glass, EIla made quick work of the man’s gear. Eila strapped it to herself as the man began to stir awake. Giving a quick kick to the gut, he falls unconscious again. 

The air was still in the old storage building. Eila looked out the closed window seeing the group scatter between buildings. The man, who Eiila could only assume was their leader, walked slowly towards the building Eila was occupying. She could see him chuckle and flick the bill before taking his own guns in his hands. 

Eila took her gun and fired a hook towards the ceiling of the building, retracting the cable and pulling her into the sky. A wide smile made its way across her face when she felt the air pull the hair out of her face. Her stomach flipped as she felt the effects of zero gravity for a fleeting moment. 

This is freedom.

She was pulled from her thoughts when the door to the building was kicked open. She ducked behind a wooden crate. The man stomped in with a laugh, “Ha! I should probably introduce myself before killin ya, brat!” He fired a shot at a nearby box. The box shattered and Eila looked at it wide eyed. 

The man fired another shot, causing the box next to her to explode. Eila gulped. “The name’s Kenny. Don’t you want to come out and welcome me to your resting place?” He hollered with more laughter. Eila fired an anchor forward and dragged herself along the ground, firing bullets behind her. 

“Found ya.” Kenny mumbled to himself, firing a hook in Eila’s direction. Eila landed on the wall, firing her hook to the right and ducking behind more boxes. Deciding that firing her weapons would make too much noise, she began to run and duck her way through the warehouse. Her heartbeat was in her ears from the rush of adrenaline. 

“I love a good game of hide and seek.” He walked creepily through the boxes. Scanning the walls of boxes, he listened carefully. He hears a shuffle to his left, “Especially when I win!” He said firing an anchor in Eila’s direction. It scraped along her cheek, drawing her blood in its wake. She gawked at it for a moment before firing bullets in the direction it came from. 

Eila replaces the empty chambers with the full ones strapped to her legs in one fluid motion. Firing up to the ceiling, she retracted the cable and pulled herself straight up. The same moment she released the anchor, feeling the fleeting sense of freedom once it broke free. The smile still on her face as she anchored down next to Kenny’s feet. 

She retracted the cable, making sure to place her foot on his chest. The force of the impact knocked the air out his lungs as he choked up blood. Eila didn’t flinch when it splatter on her face. She pulled the cable the rest of the way in, pushing his back into the ground with a deep ‘omph’. 

Eila kicked his face with her opposite foot, making sure he was knocked out. Taking the canisters off his own apparatus, she left the building with her treasures. 

The light, warm feeling of freedom filled her chest as she escaped into the cool air of the night. 

***

Three Years Ago

***

Sweat dripped from her forehead and down her nose, eventually dripping into her mouth. Using the back of her sleeve, she wiped away whatever sweat the thick fabric could absorb. Eila attempted to clear her throat, but was only reminded how dry it was. 

“Turn and face front.” A bald man screamed across the crowd. The group followed his order with a snap; Eila followed behind at a slightly slower snap. “I’m Commandant Shadis. The next three years you will be destroyed.”- he said getting into the face of an obviously scared blonde boy -”and rebuilted to be the perfect soldiers. ”He moved through the rows and rows of cadets asking each for a personal introduction. 

Eila tapped her foot impatiently in the dirt, the bored look obvious on her face. She scanned through the rows of cadets from her position in the block. She watched the commandant come closer and closer to her position. 

“You look like you’ve been through hell.” He said to a short blonde a few rows next to Eila. Her half-lidded gaze didn’t flinch at the commandants' orders like they did for most of the new recruits.  

Eila couldn’t be more bored out of her mind. She stared off at the commandant. He almost looked like a walking skeleton. Her mind wandered as she watched him yell at a few more cadets. Imagining him as a walking skeleton made Eila chuckle, eventually her chuckling lead to full-blown laughter. 

She doubled over slightly during her fit. The cadets around here were staring at her with horror in their eyes when the commandant took a place in front of her. Grabbing a fistful of hair, he pulled her up until the pair was nose-to-nose. 

“Something funny, maggot.” Eila stopped her chuckling to shoot a light glare at the commandant for stopping her fit. 

“I was just thinking about how you looked kinda like a walking skeleton.” EIla chuckled again. The commandant, already furious from the potato girl, used his grip on her hair to shove her face in the dirt. Eila felt her nose crack from the force. She attempted to push herself off the ground, but the commandant was stronger and pushed her further into the ground. 

“What’s your name cadet?” 

Eila coughed as she inhaled some dirt, “Eila Byrd, sir.”. 

The commandant chuckled before kicking some more dirt in her face. She gagged this time from the amount she inhaled. “And where do you come from, Eila Byrd?” 

“Shiganshina, sir.” 

“Damn, I got stuck with a shitty bunch of brats.” Eila’s eyes widened at his comment.

EIla growled at the commandant, using all her strength to push herself off the ground. She bared her teeth at him and growled, “I’ve been through hell. I watched everyone I love get eaten alive. I’m still kicking. I’m still fighting”- she grabbed the commandant's wrist as his grip loosened on her hair -”I’ll make it beyond the walls. I’ll see what's out there. Where will you be?” 

Shadis’s face turned red with anger. Releasing his grip on her hair, but replacing it with a kick to the gut. Eila coughed as she slumped over in pain, fighting to keep her breakfast down. Shaddis replaces his grip on her hair, lifting her up to meet his eyes. She smirked, “Damn, you love to pull hair.” She groaned out. 

“You are going to run until you throw up. And then you’re going to run again, until you throw up. The running doesn’t stop until you’re throwing up nothing. Am I clear?” Shadis growled out. Eila nodded her head the best she could. Shadis unceremoniously drops her to the ground and moves onto the next person. 

Eila breaks rank and moves towards the edge of the group. Her eyes met the uninterested blue orbs of the blonde from before. The girl’s eyes widened slightly before returning to the uninterested gaze from before. 

thank you for reading 💛💛💛 -star

#yellowjacket #estarllitafic #attack on titan #fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #aot #armin arlert #eren jaeger #aot fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin #snk

[witch-hazels-musings]

I WOKE UP JUST IN TIME AAAAA

Can I request the tall boys (Childe, Zhongli, Diluc, Kaeya + anyone else you think you wanna add or change (except maybe Childe because I love him)) reacting to you having animal-like features (like ears and tail)

Or

What they would do if by some accident they themselves end up getting animal features (like fox ears and tail for Childe, cat ears and tail for Kaeya or Diluc, dragon features for Zhongli, etc) do they become clingy and display cat behavior of rubbing themselves on you? Something like that aaaa I'm so sorry if this doesn't make sense it's my first time requesting

experiments gone wrong

(eehe these men *cough* zhongli *cough* will be the death of me) 

Warning -> sfw, fluff (kissing, character suddenly acquiring animal like features) 

Character X GN Reader | anthology 

Includes: Childe, Kaeya, Zhongli 

As an alchemist, you really should have remembered the most important rule -> don’t leave unmarked bottles out where people can drink them …

So you couldn’t be too surprised by the turn of events that followed

Childe 

He went to bed earlier than normal, but you didn’t think anything of it. Perhaps he had a terrible day and just wanted to sleep it off, there wasn’t any reason to pester him about it anyway. 

The next morning, you felt him slip out of bed, a yawn falling from his mouth as he made his way toward the bathroom. Turning, you claimed more of the bed and attempted to sleep just a little bit longer. That was until you heard a wild cry and shot up in an instant. You were already partially out of the bed when Childe burst into the room. 

He looked at you, you looked at him, and as your eyes drifted from his ears to his tail, you understood his reaction. 

“WHAT?” He shouted into the bedroom. 

Oh archons, to see him like this … you wished it was easier for you not to think about how adorable he was, but it was impossible. The soft ears that peeked from underneath his hair, the fluffy tail that didn’t know how to stop moving, and the frantic face he gave you were all just perfect 

“What happened??” He asked, running back to the mirror before returning his attention to you. Quickly, you made your way to his aid and did your best to calm him.

“I’m not sure, did you do anything strange yesterday?” You pulled his face toward you, cupping your hands against his cheek and running your fingers through his hair. 

“Not that I know of … uh, oh! I found this …” He reached for a small bottle on the bathroom counter and handed it to you. Shit.

“Did you drink this??”

“ … yes.” 

“CHILDE!” You burst into laughter, knowing it wasn’t the right time but also unable to control yourself. His expression was distressed and worried and, as best as you could, you tried to bring yourself back to calm. “This wasn’t supposed to be consumed …” 

“A-am I going to die?” 

“No, you’re just going to be, well, this it seems.” 

“How long??” 

“I don’t know, a few days maybe.” He dropped his head into his hands, his ears drooped and his active tail dropped toward the ground. Wrapping him in your arms, you offered him reassurance while trying not to laugh. “You’re very cute though.” 

You caught sight of his tail moving slowly back and forth and added more pressure to your hug. 

He found that it wasn’t as bad as he thought, in addition to the extra features, he also was able to gain other advantages - his eyesight was much better in the dark, his sense of smell more keen, his agility top notch 

You were sure he had grown attached to them in the short time he had them - so when the option came for him to revert, you were sure it would be a tough decision 

Still - to keep him trapped like this, with features that weren’t his own - you didn’t want to be cruel 

“Here,” You put the bottle down in front of him. His ears perking up at the item and his fingers reaching to grab it. “All you have to do is drink that and everything should go back to normal.” You said with a slightly wistful tone to your voice. It was somehow sad to think these adorable additions leave would be gone soon. 

“What if it doesn’t work?” 

“I’m not sure. We will just try again if it doesn’t though.” Quickly, he took the cork from the lid and moved the vial to his lips. His ear twitched as he smelled the concoction. “I’ll miss this.” Resting your head in your hands you watched as he downed the liquid in one go. 

“It’s hard for people to take me seriously like this …”

“Did people take you seriously before?” You joked, winking at him. 

The next morning, he stirred in bed next to you, his hair brushing against your face and making you wake up before you wanted to. As your eyes adjusted, you instantly recognized what you thought was hair was actually ears and the giddiness of your heart jump-started you awake. It didn’t work -- oh no, guess you’d have to keep trying. 

Kaeya 

Waking up next to Kaeya was your favorite thing. It was an opportunity for you to be close to him, to witness his relaxed expression, and know that in these moments he trusted you over anyone else. 

So, when you woke and found him pressed against you, your hands absentmindedly began to run through his hair, over his shoulders, as you meandered your way into the waking world. There was something soft that flicked against your hand, but you pushed it away. It happened again, confused, mouth turning into a scowl and eyes rudely being pried open, you looked down to see what was making you irritated. 

You were wide awake when you saw the cat ears sticking out from Kaeya’s blue hair. They were richly shaded, deep blues with tips of white and perfectly placed on his head. Shifting, you tried to get a better view and the action made him stir. 

“Mmm, stop moving.” He mumbled, wrapping his arms around you and holding you steady. Tapping his arm, you tried to get his attention. 

“K-Kaeya …” 

“What is it?” 

“Do you feel okay?” You asked, your voice shaking and hands hovering over his ears. 

“I feel perfectly fine, why do you ask?” He kissed your chest before nuzzling back into his place. 

“You … you’ve got cat ears.”

He laughed and pushed your comment away. His legs moved under the sheets and you swore you saw something poke out from the bed. “You’re pulling my leg, I didn’t know you could be this funny so early in the morning.” 

“I’m not, see.” Stealing his hand you placed it on his head and watched as his fingers ran over the ears which were sticking straight up. When his eyes shot open and his hand began to move faster, pulling, tugging, examining the feature, you tried not to laugh as his confused expression turned into a slight panic. He shot up, his legs moving so he could sit on the bed but winced when he did so. That’s when the both of you saw the tail. 

“Hold on, let me get ready, just … don’t freak out.” 

You rushed around the room to gather up your items, your gaze continuously falling on the incredibly still, unmoving frame that was Kaeya. 

After calling on Albedo to come and offer assistance, only to find that the features would be around for a few days … Kaeya started to get more accustomed to them 

He was for sure rattled but bounced back rather quickly - in fact, the features seemed to get him even more attention than he had before and he found that the added bonuses were helpful when he needed them for his knightly tasks 

Not to mention it seemed he was more affectionate than normal, and not in the way he normally was, it was more in a … cuddly, interested, curious manner 

One evening, you found yourself reading over several books that Albedo had recommended and became rudely distracted when Kaeya pushed his way under your arms and nestled into your lap

“Hey there.” You called down to him, hand dropping to his shoulder as he nuzzled against you. 

“Give me attention.” 

You laughed at his pouting expression, his lips turned downward and ears twisting to show he could be trusted. “I’m currently trying to figure out how to fix this, I can’t do that if I’m giving you all my attention.” His eye squinted for just a moment before he moved more into your lap and nearly pushed the book in your hands onto the floor. “Kaeya!” The playful laughter that filled his ears was as tantalizing as the drinks he let touch his lips. 

“You can figure that out later. How can you possibly resist me right now anyway?” He asked, pushing against you until your back pressed into the couch and his hands weaved their way around your body. His hair tickled your face as he nuzzled into your chest and, even though his hips dug into yours, you didn’t seem to mind the closeness he was trying to find. 

“Okay. Fine, I’ll look into it more later.” 

“What excellent news.” He practically purred as he slid his way to your neck and let his body rest against you.

 Zhongli 

It’s been so long since he saw himself with such features - and, to be honest, he didn’t notice them for some time. It wasn’t until you returned and the items in your hands fell to the floor upon seeing him that his attention was captured

“Zh - Zhongli!?” You babbled, making your way to him and not knowing what to rest your eyes on first. Was it the pair of elegantly shaped horns that sprouted between his brown locks of hair? Was it the golden slits in his eyes that reminded you of the reptiles roaming around the rocky paths of Liyue? Or did you look at the scales that decorated his face in such perfect placement? 

“Has something transpired?” His expression was one of concern, but also one of disillusionment. Did - did he not notice? 

“Are you feeling nostalgic today?” 

“Not particularly, what makes you ask?” 

“Well … you look kinda like … I mean hold on.” You quickly disappeared down the hallway before returning with a small handheld mirror, one that Zhongli had purchased for you some time ago. Handing it to him, you waited until it started to register on his face the changes to his appearance, and that’s when you noticed the long claws which jutted out from his nail beds.  

“Huh, this is peculiar …” 

Sitting down across from him, you placed your hands on the table and watched as he examined the reflection of his face. “So you didn’t do this?”

“I must say that I did not, though It is rather pleasant to see …” His voice trailed off and you watched as he fussed with his hair, touched the horns on his head, and opened his mouth to check and see if - yup, he had canines much like a dragon too. That’s when it hit you. 

“Did you … drink anything strange?” 

The mirror found its place upside down on the table, his glowing eyes shifted to you as he took in your question. You let him think and finally, he gave you his answer. “I do recall there was a strange vial on the counter when I awoke. Ah - my dear, are you unwell?” He asked as your head dropped onto the table. 

The strangest thing about Zhongli holding these features was that he seemed … perfect for them and it was becoming quite the problem to hide

You were much too cautious that someone may discover who he really was with these pretty telling additions to his wardrobe, so you asked him to stay home for a while until you could get some answers

He didn’t seem to mind, and when you were finally able to gather up all the items needed to prepare an antidote for his condition, you were finding it very distracting to make the concoction at home 

The bubbling liquid warned you it was much too hot and so, with adept fingers, you turned the nobs and burners down so as to not overheat or scald the liquid inside. The aroma that filled your nose was … unpleasant to say the least, and so you finally succumbed to the need to wrap your nose in a clean cloth. 

Turning your back to the equipment, you made your way toward the drawer where the rags were kept but when your eyes caught sight of Zhongli standing by the window, you nearly fainted. 

He was wearing a robe, the material had slid down one of his arms and rested in the crook of his elbow. It gave you pause and allowed you to see the toned torso which was normally hidden by the layers of clothing he wore on a regular day. 

Since he found no need to properly get dressed, he had reserved himself to lounge about in clothes that felt ‘more suitable’ to him, as he explained. 

The light from the sun flashed across his chest, laid softly against his face, and illuminated the golden speckles in his hair - you wondered if it was because of the horns, perhaps they were reflecting the light and making him look ethereal in the warmth of the sun. He crossed his arms and shifted his weight as he looked beyond the window, almost as if he was yearning for something far beyond his reach. 

“I think I’m nearly done.” You explain, tying the towel around your face and returning, reluctantly, to the concoction behind you. 

As you began to spoon out the unnecessary ingredients until you were only left with the pure grade potion, you didn’t notice how he had moved to your side until the small vial was filled. 

“Here you -- oh!.” He stood right in front of you. His eyes were dangerous, burning, focused. “I didn’t see … you …” He reached around to the back of your head and skillfully undid the makeshift mask you had created moments ago. When it was off, he took the vial in his hands and placed it onto the counter before returning his attention to you. “Are you … okay?” You asked, tracking the movements of his face as he leaned down toward you. 

His lips hovered barely over yours and the closeness of him made your heart flutter. “You are mine, are you not?” His voice rattled your bones from the intensity, it was oppressive and supportive all at the same time. 

“Y-yes?” 

His lips pressed against the corner of your mouth, “You belong to no one else?” 

“No …”

“Good.” 

It’s a good thing the instructions never said anything about, ‘consume immediately’ because you were very distracted for some time. 

-- 

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#genshin impact #genshin impact X reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact musings #genshin impact fiction #childe X reader #childe #genshin childe #kayea x reader #kayea #genshin Kayea #Zhongli X reader #zhongli #genshin zhongli

[kpopfanfictrash]

Raise the Barre (Epilogue)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Creative Contributor: @baebae-goodnight​ for the last Raise the Barre moodboard TT she nailed it

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Warnings: sexual content. Dry humping, fingering, hand job, oral (female), breast play, multiple orgasms, Jimin gets turned on by making someone else come, dirty talk. Jimin’s pants are tight.

Word Count: 13,409

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.  

“And… more pointe shoes,” you said, opening the box in your lap. “Wow. Thanks, mom and dad.”

Your dad laughed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You’re welcome, kiddo,” he said, nodding from the couch. “I know Russet gives you some already, but you can never have too many.”

“Out of curiosity.” You glanced at the tree. “Are there any boxes from you which aren’t related to dance?”

“Not related to dance…” Your mom pretended to think. “I don’t understand.”

“Mom!”

She laughed. “I’m kidding! Yes, there are other presents. You just happened to pick all the pointe shoe boxes first.”

Shaking your head, you placed the box aside. You smiled though, warmth in your chest at being home for the holidays. Classes at Russet had ended a week prior and it had been nice for a few days to simply relax. Already though, you found yourself itching to return to the city. It was strange to wake every morning and not head to ballet. It was even stranger to take classes at your old studio, trying to stay in shape before second semester began.

Playing with the string of your sweatpants, you couldn’t help glancing at your phone on the couch. It had been several days since you’d last seen Jimin in person. Oddly enough, the separation had been harder than you’d thought it would be.

Immediately after ending things with Finn, you and Jimin had tried to keep your distance. The pain of your separation had been too fresh to even consider dating someone else but, as time had gone on, you and Jimin had started becoming friends again.

It was hard not to be, with Jimin continuing as your dance partner and classmate. At the end of the semester, you’d had the opportunity to switch partners, but you and Jimin had chosen the status quo. It just made sense this way; you couldn’t think of anyone else you’d trust as much as him.

At first, things between you were strictly professional. You saw him only within the confines of the dance studio but eventually, his presence bled into your normal life. At first, the outings were small. Jimin went to a pregame you also attended. He saw you once at the coffee shop and, instead of running away, he stopped to chat. One time, he walked you back to your dorm.

When the month became December, you found your outlook improving. Most of November had been spent wallowing in your dorm, but the holiday season brought with it endless activities. The very first weekend of the month, a bunch of your Russet friends decided to go ice skating and you’d ended up tagging along.

The biggest problem had been you’d never ice skated before. Noelle had been patient, skating backwards in front of you and dragging you around the rink. Jimin had done the same thing for Hoseok, who was in a similar predicament to yours, and at some point, they swapped partners and left you skating with Jimin.

When he’d taken over for Noelle, your stomach had swooped. Hands touching, he’d led you gently around the edge and the world had seemed to still. It had been the first time you’d felt anything stir outside of your break-up. Whatever hurt and distance had sprung between you, it seemed something had survived between you and Jimin.

Nose red, Jimin had smiled as he skated backwards. “It’s easy,” he’d told you. “You just swivel, Y/N. In and out, in and out. Got it?”

“Um, no!” you’d yelped, nearly crashing to the ice when Jimin let go of your hands.

He’d laughed, catching you easily and skating like that for a while. Eventually, Jimin had helped you off the rink and gotten hot chocolate, which you insisted on buying. Payback, you said, for the impromptu skating lessons.

That day had been a turning point for you both. Throughout the month prior, you’d texted sporadically but after, you seemed to talk every day.

Jimin even offered to drive you home from Russet, given the fact that your hometowns were so close together. After much hemming and hawing, you’d eventually taken him up on the offer. The savings it gave your bleeding bank account were well-worth the potential discomfort.

This had led to both the best and worst twenty-four hours of your life.

Best, because Jimin was an excellent road trip companion. He let you choose the music, laughed at all your dumb jokes, and agreed to play the road trip games you suggested. You’d already made a firm rule not to compare Jimin to any past boyfriends but couldn’t help but note this as an improvement over anyone prior.

The sole reason the twenty-four hours were also painful was because you stopped at a hotel halfway through. It was either this or drive until 3:00 AM, so you chose the smarter option and rested for the night. You and Jimin bought separate bedrooms, but they’d ended up next to one another, so you’d been forced to spend a sleepless night imagining Jimin separated from you only by a thin sheet of plywood.

You had told yourself this was silly. At Russet, Jimin hadn’t been much further away, but something about the closeness in the hotel made you nervous. It was infinitely easier to forget about boundaries when you were separated by only a car console for hours at a time. Infinitely easier to forget the rules when you were outside of Russet, cocooned by his car and the snow.

You couldn’t help but think about the one kiss you’d shared.

That had only been a taste, barely a teaser, but the memory kept you awake for more nights than it probably should have. You couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like to kiss Jimin again, under different circumstances.

Groaning, you’d covered your face with a pillow that night and tried your best to sleep. It hadn’t really worked, and you’d shown up at the car the next morning with dark shadows beneath your eyes.

Forcing yourself back to the present, you glanced away from your phone and focused on the tree – only to see its screen light up in your peripheral. Grabbing your phone, you realized Jimin had texted. Stifling a smile, you scrolled through the conversation until you found his last message.

Jimin: MERRY CHRISTMAS! [10:23 AM]

Jimin: 

Y/N: oh my god everything’s so... coordinated lol how long did that tree take to set up?  [10:24 AM]

Y/N: and merry Christmas 😊  [10:24 AM]

Jimin: not long at all. I just googled ‘christmas trees’ and that was the first one I found  [10:24 AM]

Y/N: ha ha hilarious  [10:25 AM]

Y/N: so, what are the Park family plans for the day?  [10:25 AM]

Jimin: the usual. Opening presents, going to my grandparents later for dinner. What about you?  [10:25 AM]

Y/N: same, minus the grandparents. We usually have a pretty low-key day  [10:26 AM]

Jimin: sounds nice  [10:26 AM]

Jimin: what’s your favorite present so far  [10:27 AM]

Y/N: 

Jimin: LOL  [10:30 AM]

Jimin: how many of them did you get? I’ve gotten two new dance bags and seven pairs of black leggings. It’s like our parents have forgotten we do anything else  [10:31 AM]

Y/N: no new dance belts? 😈  [10:32 AM]

Jimin: Y/N, I’m shocked  [10:35 AM]

Jimin: mind out of the gutter. Stop thinking about my junk  [10:35 AM]

Y/N: as your dance partner, I have a vested interest in your junk. What if it breaks free in the middle of practice?  [10:38 AM]

Jimin: the more delicate ladies would faint, I imagine  [10:41 AM]

Jimin: and probably Paulo  [10:41 AM]

Y/N: lmao  [10:43 AM]

Y/N: but seriously, I hope you get presents other than dance gear  [10:43 AM]

Jimin: back at you haha  [10:47 AM]

Y/N: I can’t help but notice you didn’t get me, your dance partner, a Christmas gift though  [10:50 AM]

Jimin: was the drive home not enough?  [10:50 AM]

Y/N: oh, shoot. You’re right! You did get me a Christmas gift  [10:51 AM]

Y/N: I’m the one who’s been remiss  [10:51 AM]

Jimin: don’t forget about my housewarming gift, too  [10:52 AM]

You smiled, sitting back on the sofa. Jimin was lucky enough to be moving off campus second semester. He, Hoseok and Alex Wong were moving into an apartment not far from Paulo’s. You and Noelle had decided to stay in Grace Hall, but you’d talked about moving someplace else next year.

Jimin was heading back early to move into his new place, so you’d need a different ride on your return trip to Russet. Still, you were looking forward to Jimin’s apartment hosting parties in the new year.

Y/N: don’t get greedy on me now, Park  [10:54 AM]

“Who���re you texting?”

Jerking your head up from the screen, you nearly dropped your phone. From the couch opposite, your mom gave you a knowing look.

“No one,” you said hastily, setting your phone aside.

“Oh, really?” She glanced with your dad. “No one wouldn’t happen to have dark hair, his own car and excellent table manners, would he?”

Immediately, you felt your face heat.

When Jimin drove you home before Christmas, your parents had insisted on feeding him before he continued to Harleigh Heights. This had led to the weirdest double date of your life – which was, in fact, not a date – including you, Jimin and your parents for dinner. Luckily, your parents had been great and Jimin hadn’t cared, but you’d been endlessly mortified for your first date with Jimin to have included your parents.

Not that you’d called it a date. When Jimin had left that night, you’d brushed it aside and he’d simply gone along with it. After Jimin had left, you’d gone to your room and wondered what the hell you were doing. It was clear you still liked Jimin and wanted to be more than just friends. Still, something continued to hold you back.

You weren’t sure when it was considered appropriate to move on. The line seemed fuzzy, so you hadn’t dared cross it and Jimin hadn’t asked. You got the feeling you needed to be the one to make the first move – which made sense. You’d been the one who asked for more time. You’d told Jimin you’d say when you were ready.

Any next steps would have to come from you.

It had been weird to go home and not see Finn. His house was only fifteen minutes away from yours – you’d driven past it on your way to the grocery store last week. Still, seeing his home hadn’t caused the pain you’d expected. It was strange not to see him, but more like you’d forgotten something you needed to do, as opposed to missing his actual presence.

If you were being honest, Finn had crossed your mind less and less lately. Possibly because you’d been falling out of love with him long before you’d broken up in November.

Still, it would be unfair to jump into something before you were ready. You’d already hurt Jimin once this past fall and were determined not to do so again. No matter how good things had been lately between you, you didn’t want to make the mistake of dating Jimin too soon.

Despite this, things had become flirtier between you as of late. Exhibit A: casual text conversations about Park Jimin’s junk.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said lightly.

Your dad laughed as he stood from the couch. “Alright, then,” he said, grabbing another gift. “How about you open this one next?”

Accepting the thin package he handed over, you frowned. The box wasn’t large and, shaking it slowly, you heard no sliding inside.

“I swear,” you said as you began to undo the bow. “If you wrapped your passport photo again, dad...”

Laughing, he settled back on the couch by your mom. “It’s not that, I promise.”

Grumbling, you opened the box and immediately froze. Staring at the paper inside, you slowly looked up. “Is this… is this what I think it is?”

“It’s a plane flight,” your mom said with a smile. “I know we’re supposed to drive you back on the third, but we thought you might want to celebrate New Year’s with your friends.”

“But…” Speechless, you returned to the box. “We always hang out together on New Year’s Eve.”

“I know,” said your dad. “But maybe it’s time to start some new traditions, kiddo.”

With that, he stood and took his mug to the kitchen. Sensing he wasn’t needed for this conversation any longer, he began washing dishes and to prepare breakfast. Once he was gone, your mom moved to your couch and settled beside you.

“I… this is too much,” you said, immediately backpedaling.

“It’s not.”

“Well…” Hesitant, you considered the possibilities. “I guess Ari will be in the city for New Year’s Eve. Maybe Noelle, too. She mentioned she might go back early.”

Gently, your mom smiled. “That’s great if you want to hang out with them, but… didn’t Jimin mention going back before New Year’s?”

Startled, you glanced up. You were surprised she’d remembered. Jimin had mentioned it briefly at dinner last week – he’d said he was moving off campus, which was why he’d needed to return home to pack.

“I – he might have,” you said cautiously.

“I see.” She paused. “I just… I don’t want you feeling like you need to hold yourself back, honey.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Your mom glanced meaningfully at your phone. “I’m glad you’re taking time to yourself,” she said slowly. “It’s important to know who you are and what you want. But also – don’t feel like you need to follow someone else’s timeline when it comes to moving on.”

“I know, but…” You trailed off. “We only broke up in November.”

She shrugged. “Only you know when you’re ready, honey. I just don’t want you to keep punishing yourself for something that’s over. You’re allowed to be happy, even if you’ve messed up in the past.”

Swallowing, you glanced again at the gift. The plane ticket was for the day before New Year’s Eve. Plucking it from the box, you sat back on the couch.

“But…” you said lowly. “Mom, it’s only been two months.”

“And are you still in love with Finn?”

“No.”

“And did you learn anything from what happened this fall?”

“I… Yes. A lot.”

“Good.” Reaching out, she squeezed your hand. “Learn the lessons you need to learn, and then move on. Self-flagellation isn’t productive, Y/N.”

You nodded, still uncertain about what she was saying. Her words made sense, but everything she was saying uncovered a dormant fear. You were scared. Scared of hurting someone else, scared of being hurt by someone else in return. Your last relationship had ended so badly, it was hard to convince yourself it might be worth it to try again.

Finally, you turned to face her on the couch. “Does it ever get any easier?” you asked. “This fear of being hurt… does it ever go away?”

Something sad passed over her face. “Yes and no,” she said, pulling back her hand. “You’ll never be as innocent as you were in your first love. There’s something special about loving someone and never having been hurt before. Once you’ve gone through that kind of pain, you aren’t the same after. But… it does get easier. And better. You’ll know more about how to support this time, instead of tearing down. How to make a love stronger, instead of hanging on.”

Something about this speech gave you comfort, and you slowly nodded. Again, what she said made sense but if there was one thing you’d learned from the fall, it was no matter how great the advice was, it was impossible to take if you weren’t ready to hear it.

You continued wondering if the risk would be worth it. No matter how much you felt for Jimin, you couldn’t help but remember how you’d felt breaking up with Finn. You hadn’t been in love with him at that point and it had still been so painful. It was terrifying to imagine loving someone again and having things end the same way.

Your mom was right, though. You couldn’t keep punishing yourself for something you couldn’t change. There were several ways you could move on from here. The main question to ask yourself was whether you wanted Jimin in the picture.

“Alright,” you said softly. “Thanks, mom.”

“Anytime.” Smiling, she stood and dusted off her pants. “I’m going to see if your dad needs help making breakfast. Don’t be too long, now!”

You nodded, watching her go, and then glanced at the ticket. Your mom’s words continued to run through your mind and after a moment, you picked up your phone.

Jimin had texted back.

Jimin: I would never!  [10:57 AM]

Y/N: hey, so  [11:01 AM]

Y/N: I did get one non-dance gift this year. A plane flight the day before New Year’s Eve  [11:02 AM]

Jimin: oh, wow! That was really nice of your parents  [11:03 AM]

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes. When you opened them, you found yourself newly determined.

Y/N: when do you get back again?  [11:03 AM]

His ellipses started, then stopped, then started again.

Jimin: December 28th  [11:04 AM] 

Y/N: what are your New Year’s Eve plans?  [11:04 AM]

For a moment, he didn’t respond, and you felt your heart catch. Maybe you’d misread things. Maybe Jimin had moved on and didn’t care about you anymore. Maybe he didn’t want you to tell him you were ready.

Jimin: I’m free 😊  [11:05 AM]

Jimin: want to be my New Year’s Eve date?  [11:05 AM]

Smiling ear to ear, you responded.

Y/N: yes. Please  [11:06 AM]

On the actual day of New Year’s Eve, you found yourself stressed beyond belief. Standing in front of the mirror of your dorm room, you adjusted your dress and worried over the hemline. Jimin had arranged to meet you around 7:00 PM and it was dangerously close to 6:55.

“Is the dress too short?” you asked, turning a little to face Noelle. “It is New Year’s Eve in the city. Should I wear pants, or something? Will I be cold?”

Noelle considered, then shrugged. “Just drink more. Problem solved!”

Snorting, you turned back to the mirror. Nervously, you smoothed down the front of your dress. You’d bought it at an after-Christmas sale and had fallen instantly in love. It had seemed perfect at the time, but now you were having second thoughts about the thin straps and tight bodice.

“Alright, so Y/N.” Noelle changed the subject. “Here’s the plan. Are you listening?”

Hiding a smile, you adjusted an earring. “Listening.”

“Good. Okay, so Ari and I will be at a party uptown. If the date goes badly, just say the word and we’ll call you a cab. You can be ringing in the new year with us within the hour.”

“Perfect,” you said. “It’s good to have a back-up.”

“It is.” Noelle paused. “Not that I think you’ll need this, of course.”

“Well, you never know.”

“Please.” She snorted. “What’s Jimin going to do? Be too charming? Too respectful of boundaries? Wear pants that show off his ass a little too much?”

“Noelle!”

She laughed, coming to a stop alongside you. Noelle wore a sparkly dress which made her skin glow, although this may have been the glitter dusted over her shoulders. Looking at herself in the mirror, she fluffed her hair.

“Seriously,” she said, meeting your gaze. “You’re going to be fine.”

“I know, I know.” Shaking out your arms, you forced yourself to exhale. “I’m just nervous, that’s all. It’s been a long time since I went on a first date.”

Noelle considered. “That’s true. Allow me to give you some dating tips, then.”

Laughing, you turned around and sat on the futon. “By all means.”

“Alright – number one.” Noelle removed lipstick from her purse. “Don’t order anything with garlic. I know, that sucks because garlic is everything, but no one wants to make out while they have garlic breath. Rule number two!”

“Whoa, whoa,” you said. “Who said anything about making out?”

Noelle gave you a pointed look. “Just in case it should happen…”

Shaking your head, you sunk back on the futon, but you knew she was right. Tonight was New Year’s Eve, after all. Ideally, you’d like to do more than kiss Jimin, but this seemed like too much of a jinx to say out loud.

Mentally, you agreed to the ‘no garlic’ rule.

“What else?” you prompted.

“Let’s see.” Noelle began to reapply her lipstick. “Relax.”

“What?”

Glancing at you in the mirror, she raised both brows. “I can see your shoulders tensing from here, babe. Just relax, okay? Tonight will be fine. You’re just hanging out with Jimin. You’ve done that before.”

“I know,” you groaned, lowering your face to your hands. “For some reason though, I’m very aware of the ‘date’ aspect of tonight. I don’t know why.”

When you looked up, Noelle gave you a sympathetic look, but before she could say more there came a knock at the door. Half-standing, you moved to open it, but Noelle shooed you back.

“Rule number three,” she said as she crossed the room. “Never answer the door for your own date.”

“What?” you laughed, although you sat back down on the futon.

Grabbing the handle, Noelle pulled open the door. Blocking you from view, she leaned her shoulder against the frame.

“Password?”

“What?” came Jimin’s voice, sounding confused.

“That’s correct!” Noelle stepped aside.

As you stood, you saw Jimin for the first time. He wore a pea coat over his outfit, his dark hair pushed back from his face in a devastating manner. When he saw you, Jimin froze, and you saw his eyes widen.

Silently, you congratulated yourself on having picked the right outfit. His gaze slowly trailed your body, lingering in places which made your cheeks heat. When he returned to your face, he slowly exhaled.

“Hey,” he said. “You… you look beautiful.”

Smiling back, you found yourself at a loss for words. “So do you.”

Jimin grinned and you stood there, smiling at each other like idiots until Noelle cleared her throat.

“Well,” she said, side-stepping Jimin to grab her coat. “I’m going to head over to Ari’s. You kids be safe, okay?”

“We will,” you laughed.

Noelle left in a flurry of kisses and glitter, waving goodbye as she stepped out the door. Jimin turned to face you once she was gone, offering a smile.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked. “I brought you these.”

From behind his back, he pulled out pink peonies, which made you gasp. They were your favorites, a little limp from the cold, but still beautiful. Taking them gently from him, you turned them over in your hands.

“They’re wonderful,” you said happily. “Thank you.”

Jimin smiled. “I’m glad you like them.”

Glancing around, you found a clean glass near the sink and filled this with water. Arranging the peonies on your desk, you took a step back and cocked your head. You’d always thought the idea of flowers on dates was kind of cheesy, but now that you’d experienced it in person, it seemed unimaginably sweet.

“There,” you said, turning back. “All set.”

Jimin smiled at this, then glanced at your bare arms. “You’re going to be cold without a coat,” he said. “That’d be a bad way to start off the new year.”

“Oh – duh,” you said, hurrying towards your wardrobe.

Pulling a coat out, you slipped this over your dress and buttoned the front. As you left the room, you turned off the lights and shut the door behind you. Jimin walked with you down the hall, continually glancing your way from the corner of his eyes.

You felt oddly shy, despite this being Jimin beside you. Jimin, who you’d known since you were teenagers. Jimin, who’d been both the utter bane of your existence, along with the single person you trusted most in the world. He’d tossed you up in the air and caught you no question and somehow, this felt like the most daring thing you’d ever done.

It was strange to walk beside him, out on a date whose future held a large question mark. Excitement and uncertainty warred in your stomach, which only seemed to exacerbate the situation. You felt as though you stood on the edge of a precipice, staring into a ravine with no discernable bottom.

As you left the building, snowflakes swirled in the sky up above and you looked up in surprise.

“Oh,” you exhaled, breath frosting before you. “I didn’t realize it was snowing!”

“Yeah.” Jimin grinned, tilting back his head. “Snow is my favorite weather, actually.”

“The wet and the cold does it that much for you, huh, Park?”

“That, and the romance of it all.”

Your smile softened a little as you fell into step alongside him. The snow continued to drift as you walked, melting as soon as it touched the pavement.

“So, where are we going?” you wondered, glancing at him. “You said you’d tell me once you picked me up and I’ve got news for you, Jimin. I’m here. I’ve been picked up.”

“Right, sure.” He shoved both hands in his pockets. “I made a reservation at this restaurant around the corner. The food’s really good so I hope you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I will.”

“Huh.” Jimin paused. “That was easy.”

You shrugged. “I’m just excited for tonight. That’s all.”

His gaze softened a little when he glanced at you. “Me, too.”

Smiling, you continued to walk alongside him. New Year’s Eve in the city was a grand affair. The sidewalks were still lit with holiday lights, people hurrying past in brightly colored coats. Privately, you were glad Jimin had made a reservation at a restaurant instead of trying to brave a club or a bar. You’d heard horror stories from people who paid extravagantly to get into a club, only to spend the entire night waiting in line at the bar.

Turning the corner, you saw the restaurant Jimin had chosen and brightened. It was one you’d walked past several times and always wanted to try but had never found time.

Jimin held open the door as you entered. The inside still had their holiday decorations up, garland strung across every surface with tiny, white fairy lights hung up above. Everyone who was dining wore formal attire, laughing and chatting in the glow of the fireplace. The food smelled amazing and immediately, your mouth watered.

Joining the line at the hostess stand, you waited for the couple before you to leave and then Jimin stepped up.

“Park,” he told her. “Party of two.”

The hostess smiled, nodding as she flipped through her notebook. “One moment, please.” The longer she looked though, the more her face fell. After a moment, she glanced up. “Park, you said?”

“Yes.” Jimin nodded. “P-a-r-k.”

The woman nodded, flipping through her notebook again as though the name might magically appear.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, glancing up again. “There seems to be some kind of mistake. I don’t have you listed as a reservation.”

Jimin’s expression faltered. “Can you look again?” he asked, leaning forward.

The hostess nodded, running her finger down the numbered rows. “I can’t find you anywhere. Do you remember who you spoke with on the phone?”

“Rebecca.”

“Oh.” Her face immediately fell. “Rebecca left the restaurant last week. It seems a few reservations slipped through in the transition. Is there… well, before I do that – let me see what I can do,” she blurted out, turning around to rush into the restaurant.

Jimin watched her disappear and you saw his expression tighten.

Silence fell between you as you adjusted your coat. Jimin looked stressed and you weren’t sure what you should do about it. Frantically, you tried to remember times he’d been stressed during class, but before you could do or say anything, the hostess returned.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, looking harried. “The restaurant is completely booked up. I was trying to see if we could squeeze you in, but there’s just no room. I’m so sorry. Normally, only one person does the reservations, but we’ve been so busy lately...”

“It’s fine,” you said, jumping in. The poor woman looked like she was about to burst into tears. “Please, don’t worry about it. We’ll figure something out.”

Jimin glanced at you, surprised, and then nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed, returning to the hostess. “Thank you so much for your help – I appreciate you trying. We actually have a back-up reservation somewhere else, so don’t worry. We’ll come back another time!”

“Oh, really?” Her entire face brightened. “That’s so good to hear. New Year’s Eve, and all. Thank you for being understanding!”

“Yes, busy night,” Jimin said with a smile. “Take care of yourself!”

The woman nodded, seeming grateful when you stepped out of line. Jimin followed your footsteps, heading towards the door and then came to a stop. Slowly, he exhaled.

“So,” you said, turning to face him. “Where are these back-up reservations?”

Jimin winced and met your gaze. “I have none,” he admitted. “She just looked so sad. I wanted to put her out of her misery.”

“Wait.” Piecing this together, you paused. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” he said miserably. “I only made reservations here and that was super lucky, considering most places in the city have been booked for weeks. I don’t have any back-up plans.”

For a moment, you could only stare. “So, you said all that just so that poor hostess wouldn’t worry about a mistake her restaurant made?”

“I – well, yeah.”

You stared another moment, then started to laugh. It started out small but grew until eventually, you were wiping tears of mirth from your eyes.

Jimin watched you laugh, seeming thoroughly confused. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s just…” Shaking your head, you paused to catch your breath. “You’re unreal. Most people would be super stressed about New Year’s Eve plans falling through, but here you are lying to make a hostess’ night better.”

He blinked, still uncertain. “I’m… sorry about that.”

“Don’t apologize!” you insisted as you straightened. “It’s… wonderful,” you said to him shyly. “I like that about you.”

Slowly, his expression changed. “I really don’t have other plans, though,” he admitted. “I wasn’t lying about that. And I am stressed about my reservation falling through. I wanted this night to be perfect.”

The sweetness of this made your heart start to melt and newly determined, you nodded.

“We can fix this,” you said. “We’ll just go somewhere else.”

“Like where?”

“Like...” You paused. “We could hang out at my dorm. Or at your apartment! One of our kitchens has to be free, right? We could make dinner and hang out, watch the ball drop.”

“We could go to my place,” said Jimin slowly. “Hoseok and Alex are at a New Year’s Eve party uptown. We’d have the kitchen to ourselves.”

“Perfect,” you said. “Let’s go there.”

“I should warn you, though – I can only really cook one thing.”

“Spaghetti-o’s?”

“Okay, two things.”

You laughed. “So, what’s the first thing?”

“A pasta dish they taught us in Senior Foods class. But it’s nothing fancy.”

“Perfect.” You shrugged. “That will go nicely with my contribution of store-bought bread and olive oil.”

Jimin started to grin. “Alright, then, it’s settled. Let’s go to my place.”

You smiled when he opened the door, following him onto the sidewalk. Jimin’s new apartment was a few blocks away, but time passed quickly with him beside you. Oddly enough, the mishap at the restaurant seemed to have cleared some of the lingering awkwardness.

Noelle had been right, you realized – you had nothing to worry about while you were with Jimin.

He talked while you walked, detailing the ongoing fight at his apartment about some posters Hoseok wanted to hang. This segued into the general ridiculousness of New Year’s Eve – a topic you wholeheartedly agreed with.

“It’s stressful,” Jimin complained as you walked. “Everyone’s always asking about your resolution, you need to find someone to kiss at midnight, and there’s that super awkward moment with the countdown and your date…”

You laughed, grabbing a basket as you entered the grocery store. Jimin had suggested you stop by, since he didn’t have much food at his place.

“Doesn’t the countdown make it easier?” you joked. “It really dumbs the whole process down. Fool-proof.”

“Well, sure,” Jimin said. “But then you end up staring awkwardly at someone for ten seconds while you slowly lean forward and wonder when you should blink.”

Laughing, you reached on tiptoe for a loaf of bread. “Alright, you got me there,” you admitted. “I’ve never had a proper New Year’s Eve, anyways. I’ve always been dating someone and then, it’s just kind of assumed you’ll kiss. None of the magic you see in the movies.”

Jimin nodded. “Most of that’s just movie magic, though. You aren’t missing much – trust me.”

“I don’t know,” you said as you turned the next corner. “The anticipation sounds kind of nice. Wondering if someone will kiss you back, if they’re thinking about you the same way you are…”

Jimin made a humming noise, low in his throat.

Coming to a stop, he reached overhead to grab some pasta. Putting this in your basket, Jimin casually brushed your arm as you met his faze. Fighting back a shiver, you tried to remember what you’d been saying.

Giving a smile, Jimin continued forward and kept shopping. You stared after him a moment before your gaze dropped to his ass. Inhaling quickly, you remembered Noelle’s comment about Jimin’s tight pants. She hadn’t been wrong about that. Hurrying along, you quickly caught up.

Grabbing another jar, Jimin placed this in the basket. When he caught your eye again, he grinned, his hair falling forward. The sight made your heart flip-flop in your chest.

As you entered the check-out line, Jimin came to a stop alongside you. His gaze traveled the store, eyes widening when he glanced over your shoulder.

“What’s that?” Jimin gasped.

Startled, you turned. “What’s – hey!” you blurted when he took your basket.

Grinning widely, Jimin placed the food before the cashier. “Too slow.”

“Jimin, come on,” you said, slightly flustered. “I can pay. I –”

“You can pay next time, if you want.”

This shut you up and you stared at him a moment before you stepped forward.

“There’s… going to be a next time?” you said.

Jimin glanced in your direction. “If you want there to be.”

“I do,” you said softly, and he smiled.

Taking another step forward, he pulled out his wallet to pay and you let him – this time, anyways. Outside, it seemed to have grown colder since your arrival and you shivered as you exited the shop. Noticing this, Jimin immediately undid his scarf from around his neck.

“Here,” he said, handing it over. “I don’t need this.”

“But then you’ll be cold,” you pointed out, accepting it anyways.

“I’ll jog in place to keep warm.”

“… With me walking beside you?”

“Yep.”

You laughed, even more so when Jimin began to demonstrate. He jogged for a few steps, then slowed to a walk.

“Changed my mind,” he said with a wince. “I’d rather be cold.”

You laughed, cheeks starting to hurt from both this and the wind. Jimin’s apartment wasn’t far, although it did turn out to be a third-floor walk-up. This left you slightly winded when you arrived at his place, to which Jimin shrugged and said the rent had been cheap.

Opening his front door, he led the way into – boxes. Tons of them, although most of the furniture had been set up around them. Jimin fumbled for a light, flicking this on and setting down the groceries.

“Most of the boxes are Alex’s,” he sighed, looking around. “Hoseok and I have a secret deal we’re going to unpack him ourselves if he doesn’t do it by Monday.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a detriment to Alex.”

“I never said what we planned on doing with his things once we unpacked.”

You laughed, undoing your coat to set aside. Glancing around, you saw Jimin was right. Most of the boxes were scrawled in the same handwriting. Beyond them, you saw the living room had been mostly set up with a couch and TV.

To your right lay the kitchen, in which Jimin was already unloading the groceries. Beyond him was a hallway, through which you assumed were their bedrooms and bathrooms. Wandering back to Jimin, you realized he was staring.

“What?” you said, coming to a stop. “Did I spill something on my dress in the store?”

“No,” Jimin murmured, shaking his head. “I just… I know I said this before, but you really do look incredible.”

“Oh.”

Looking at him, you felt your face growing hot. Jimin smiled and ducked his head, resumed pulling things out of the bag. Stepping from your shoes to place in the hall, you returned to the kitchen and pulled out a stool.

Sitting down, you propped your chin in your hand. “Aren’t you going to take off your coat?”

Glancing down, Jimin blinked. “Oh,” he laughed, undoing the buttons. “I forgot I was wearing it.”

You smiled, but this quickly disappeared when you saw what he was wearing. Jimin had worn a dark blazer and trousers, paired with a paisley shirt and black boots. He looked ridiculously good and again, Noelle’s comment about his ass came to mind.

She’d been correct – his pants were well-shaped and well-formed.

After removing both coat and shoes, Jimin returned to the kitchen and pushed a hand through his hair. You watched him get to work, leaning forward a bit when he began to dice vegetables. Immediately, your brows raised. It seemed Jimin had undersold his skills in the kitchen.

When you said as much, he laughed.

“Maybe a little,” Jimin said. As he pushed veggies from the cutting board, the pan began to sizzle. “It’s all part of my master plan. Set expectations low, then over-deliver.”

“It’s working,” you said with a laugh. “You seem pretty damn impressive to me.”

Jimin’s cheeks reddened. “You’re just saying that.”

“Why would I lie?”

“I seem to remember some shocking texts about my junk and dancer’s belts. You could just be after my body, Y/N.”

“I – that’s not!”

He looked up and grinned. “Kidding.”

Flustered, you blurted, “That wasn’t nice!”

Jimin laughed. “I’m sorry.”

You huffed, waiting a minute before you continued. “You do look really good right now, though,” you said softly.

He looked up, eyes wide. As much as Jimin said he enjoyed being liked, it seemed to throw him for a loop whenever you said you liked him. It made you pause, mulling over this for a minute.

“You seem surprised,” you said quietly. “Whenever I say things like that, you always look surprised.”

“Well…” Jimin hesitated. “I just think… there’s been a lot of times where I never thought this would happen. It feels kind of unreal have you here. In my kitchen. On a date.”

“Times after November?”

Jimin paused.

Your brow furrowed. “Before then?”

Opening the pasta, Jimin added this to the pot. He stared into the steam, slowly exhaling before he looked up.

“Let’s just say I’ve wanted this for a while,” he admitted.

“What? But you hated me before Russet.”

“I…” Jimin trailed off. “Kind of. It’s complicated.”

When he failed to elaborate and returned to his cooking, your eyebrows shot up.

“Uh, no,” you laughed. “You can’t just say that and not explain what you mean. What are you talking about?”

Jimin winced as he set down his spoon. “Okay,” he said, gripping the counter. “I guess what I’m saying is I never really hated you. Not truly.”

“You didn’t.”

“No.” He spoke flatly.

“But…” Confused, you searched his face. “You’ve hated me ever since we met, Jimin. That first weekend at NUVO dance competition. We were both called out to demonstrate and you tripped me!”

“Well, maybe that’s not exactly what happened.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jimin released a low breath. “Okay, so here’s the thing. That weekend happened a little differently from my perspective.”

“How so?”

“We were both called out to demonstrate,” he said, repeating your words. “But I hadn’t seen you before then. When we both reached center and I turned and saw you – I froze. I couldn’t remember how to act. Every thought I’d ever had just… flew out of my head.”

You stared at him, speechless.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Jimin continued softly. “I’d never felt like that before. When you started to dance, it only got worse. I’d never seen someone dance like you did. That’s why I entered the combination late. That’s why I was in the wrong spot at the wrong time and that’s why I accidentally tripped you. I was… well, I was distracted.”

“By me,” you whispered. “You were distracted by… me?”

“Yeah.”

“So,” you said, breath catching. “This entire time, you haven’t really hated me?”

“Ah, I don’t know about that.” Jimin rubbed the back of his neck. “You could be really infuriating,” he said with a laugh. “There were times when you genuinely pissed me off. I meant it when I said I wanted to win against you. But also… I don’t know. I never really forgot the first time I saw you.”

“Oh,” you whispered, unsure what you were feeling.

It made your head spin to hear this different version of events. Jimin hadn’t hated you – at least, not in the same way you had. He hadn’t been the one to make the first move after all. You had when you’d decided not to listen to his apology.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands.

“Hey – what’s wrong?”

Dropping his spoon to the counter, Jimin came around and stood beside you. Keeping your head down, you refused to look up until Jimin touched your arm.

“I just,” you exhaled, turning to face him. “It was my fault. This entire time, I thought you hated me and that’s why I hated you. But instead, I just decided to hate you – and for what?”

Jimin’s upper lip twitched. “I wasn’t entirely blameless, you know. I was such a little shit at that age. I wouldn’t have believed me, either.”

“You tried to apologize, though!”

“Hey.” Gently, he gripped your elbows. “If it makes you feel any better, I did trip people just to get to the front. I was an ass. It’s why that Jungkook guy hates me. I started dancing later in life, so I was really hung up on proving myself.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t true,” you told him. “You didn’t trip me on purpose, and if I’d only been less stubborn –”

“Whoa, hey.” Jimin smiled. “You weren’t the only stubborn one. Maybe it started off as a misunderstanding, but I didn’t really fight it. You were my competition as much as I was yours.”

“I guess,” you said quietly. “I just… I feel like I wasted so much time hating you. Maybe we could’ve even been friends.”

His gaze sparked. “Just friends?” he asked with a quirk of his brow.

“Jimin,” you groaned, but started to smile.

“Listen.” Expression softening, Jimin moved closer. “Even if I had decided to explain all this in high school, would you have believed me?”

“Probably not.”

“Exactly. I was a dick back then.” He nodded. “Remember that one time I lied and told you the awards ceremony had been pushed back an hour?”

Sitting up straighter, you glared. “Oh, I remember. I showed up after they’d already taken the photo for Top Junior solos.”

Jimin grinned. “Or the time I put an out of order sign on the women's restroom after your solo at BRAVO, so you had to run all the way across the auditorium?”

“That was you!” you blurted out, wide-eyed. “No one would believe me when I said it was! Every girl was so pissed off at you that weekend.”

“Which is exactly why I could never admit it was me!”

In disbelief, you shook your head. “You did all of that just to get back at me?”

Jimin’s smile disappeared. “Hey, you weren’t innocent either,” he argued. “Remember the time you spilled an entire water bottle next to my bag so that when I sat down, my ass got all wet?”

Devious, you smiled. “Honestly, there was kind of an ulterior motive there. As much as I hated you, your ass looks great in damp sweats.”

Jimin’s jaw dropped a little.

Managing to shut this, he took a casual step forward. “Is that what you thought?” he murmured, barely able to conceal the thickness in his voice.

“I… may have noticed a few things about you.”

When he placed a hand next to you on the counter, your breath hitched in response. Jimin repeated this with his other hand, bringing his body a step closer to yours.

Hesitant, his gaze roamed your face. “What else did you notice?”

“I…” you exhaled and glanced at his lips.

The air between you could have been cut with a knife, heated for a different reason than the stove beside you. Which – eyes widening, you glanced over.

“Shit!” you blurted. “Jimin, the pasta!”

Startled, he looked in the same direction as you and realized the water was boiling. Rushing away, Jimin entered the kitchen and turned down the burner. Now that you were separated by a solid counter, you felt somewhat dazed when you glanced up and saw him.

Meeting your gaze, Jimin came to a stop. “Anyways,” he said softly. “Now, you know. I didn’t trip you on purpose. I never really hated you. And I’m incredibly glad you’re here tonight.”

Watching him speak, something warm bloomed in your chest.

“Me, too,” you whispered.

Smiling, Jimin returned to the pasta and you settled back on the stool. Delicious scents soon filled the kitchen and you realized how truly hungry you were. You hadn’t eaten much at lunch in preparation and by now, you were famished.

It wasn’t long before Jimin placed pasta onto plates, adding the bread you’d cut up on the side. He brought these to his table, disappearing briefly to return with two candles.

“Oo,” you said as you took a seat. “Fancy.”

Jimin lit the one closest to you with a flourish. “We aim to please, here at Park Jimin’s Fine Eating and Dining.”

“Is that the name of your restaurant?”

“It is.”

“And you’re set on that decision?”

“I decided on a whim, but I have no regrets,” Jimin said, taking a seat across from you. “Now, eat before you piss off the chef and he takes back your food.”

Laughing, you dug into the pasta before you. It was delicious and, after the very first bite, you sighed in appreciation. Apparently, Jimin had truly set the bar low. Conversation began to flow, any lingering tension disappeared after talk of your past.

It was the oddest thing. You’d heard stories from friends about other first dates. They worried about how to behave, what to wear, or what to say to their date – but none of these worries seemed to exist for you in the moment. You’d been so concerned before the night began, but now that you were here, all these worries seemed to fly out the window.

You’d thought you’d spend the entire night comparing. Comparing Jimin to your last relationship, comparing Jimin as a date to Jimin as a friend, but instead, it felt like natural progression. It wasn’t a matter of comparing Jimin to anyone else, but rather simply enjoying where the night led.

After dinner, you insisted on helping clean because Jimin had cooked and bought the food. Donning rubber gloves over your dress, you stood at the sink and began to wash dishes. Jimin laughed as he joined, pulling on gloves to dry the dishes beside you. Once this was done, he suggested watching a movie before the ball dropped.

Collapsing onto the sofa, you adjusted your dress and scanned the room. The posters Jimin had bemoaned were now hung over the TV – you wondered if Hoseok had managed to somehow sneak them past his roommates. Small touches here and there made you think of Jimin.

A game he’d mentioned was out on the coffee table and a blanket which smelled like him was draped over a chair. Pulling this towards you, you wrapped it around yourself as Jimin left the kitchen.

Holding two glasses of wine, he paused when he saw you.

“What?” you said, glancing down.

“Nothing.” Jimin cleared his throat. “Are you cold?”

“A little,” you admitted, tugged his blanket closer.

“Shoot.” Jimin frowned. “The heat’s been weird since we moved in. I’m not sure how to fix – oh!” Setting the glasses down, he rushed towards the hall. “Do you want a sweatshirt?” he called.

“Yes, please!”

Jimin reappeared moments later, a navy sweatshirt in hand. Handing this over, he settled beside you on the sofa. He’d ditched his blazer and now, Jimin was dressed in only the paisley shirt and slacks.

Pulling his sweatshirt overhead, you somehow managed to get stuck right away. It was hard not to, with your hair and the dress, trying not to flash him while you kept your legs crossed.

After a moment of watching your undignified struggling, Jimin cleared his throat.

“Need help?”

“Yes, please,” you said weakly.

Jimin laughed, helping you free and once the hoodie was settled, you sighed and leaned back. Glancing sideways at Jimin, you found him already looking at you.

“What do you want to watch?” you asked.

Jimin blinked, then glanced at the TV. “Hm,” he mused, grabbing the remote. “We could watch the ball drop and enjoy the fact that we’re sitting inside, not standing in the freezing cold without any bathrooms.”

“I know!” you said with a shudder. “Out of all the stupid traditions, that’s one I’ll never understand.”

“How do so many people have it on their bucket list?”

“Right? That, and the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Zero out of ten. It’s cold, there’s wind and again, there’s the question of bathrooms.”

Jimin laughed as he scrolled through the channels. “Alright, so no to the ball drop. Want to watch a movie?”

“Sure.”

“What movie?”

“Why’re you making me pick?” you whined, sinking deeper into his cushions. “That’s such a large amount of pressure.”

“Exactly, which is why I don’t want to do it.”

You laughed and after some back and forth, decided to watch About Time. This was a movie about obstacles and falling in love, which seemed more than fitting because of the new year. At first, you and Jimin were watching diligently but eventually, he asked a question and conversation slowly drifted from the movie.

At some point, Jimin lowered the volume to focus solely on you. You curled deeper into the couch beside him, your thighs somehow touching and shoulders inches apart. Jimin’s head leaned against the cushion and he continued to smile in a way which made your heart flip.

“Here’s a question,” you murmured, no longer pretending to watch the movie.

His eyes gleamed in the darkness. “What?”

“Why’d you tell Sabrina you only wanted to be friends?”

Briefly, his eyes widened. “How did… you know about that?”

“She told me.”

“Hm.” Jimin gave you a dubious look but moved past it. Sabrina had begun hanging out with your friends as of late. “But alright, I’ll answer. If I do though, you need to answer one of my questions. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“So, I was single when I came to Russet.” Jimin paused. “It was the first time in a long time, and I may have hooked up with a couple of people.”

“Hm,” you said tightly.

His eyes danced with amusement. “Jealous?”

“Answer the question.”

He laughed. “Anyways, I only hooked up with Sabrina the one time. Afterwards…” Jimin sighed. “I felt kind of weird about her asking me to switch partners. Then I overheard what she said about Ari at weigh-ins and just didn’t feel like anything more... Plus, there was the other reason.”

“And what was the other reason?”

“I was starting to like you,” he said, a bit softer. “The day you said you wanted to be friends was a giant weight from my chest. And the more relaxed you were around me, the more… I don’t know. The more I liked you, I guess. My mom has always called me her hopeless romantic,” Jimin said with a smile. “I don’t know about that, but I can be single-minded when I like someone. That was part of the reason I told Sabrina we shouldn’t hook up anymore.”

“Oh,” you whispered.

His smile turned lopsided. “Does that answer your question?”

“Yeah. I guess it does.”

“My turn, then.” Smile disappearing, his gaze darkened. “Why did you really call me that night at the club?”

“Oh. That. Well, I –”

“And don’t say it was because I had a car,” Jimin interrupted. “There were a lot of people you could’ve called to help. You didn’t, though. You called me. Why?”

You hesitated before you realized there was only one answer. “I wanted to see you,” you said honestly. “I was scared, I was alone and… you were the person I wanted to see.”

Jimin’s gaze had become nearly black, the air between you thick with something unsaid. You were suddenly conscious of all each part of your body pressed to his. When Jimin shifted on the couch, you moved somehow closer.

He hesitated, then glanced at your mouth. “I don’t…” Jimin licked his lips, sounding hoarse. “I don’t want to do anything you’re not ready for.”

“You won’t,” you told him.

Something uncertain passed over his face. “Maybe we should take things slow.”

“Or,” you said slowly. “I could tell you things I like about you, instead.”

“And what would be the point of that?”

Your gaze shifted to his. “You’ve told me a lot tonight about how much you like me,” you said softly. “About how long you’ve liked me. I think it’s time I returned the favor.”

Something in his gaze cracked and he nodded. The TV in the background was quiet, only the noise from the street and the whoosh of the heater breaking the silence.

“First,” you said, glancing down at his lap. “You have really nice hands.”

Jimin’s lips twitched. “My hands? I’ve always thought they were small.”

“Wrong. They’re the perfect size. Never have they dropped me.”

“Mm, that’s a good point.”

“And your smile,” you said.

“What about it?”

“I like your smile,” you told him. “It makes me smile.”

His eyes crinkled in demonstration. “Oh, yeah?”

“And your ears.”

Jimin laughed. “My ears?”

Reaching out, you delicately traced over an edge. “I’ve spent a long time looking at your profile, Park. I know what I’m talking about here.”

As your fingers moved lower, feather-light down his jaw, Jimin’s smile disappeared.

“I like your jaw, too,” you told him.

In the darkness, his gaze glinted, and you felt his jaw tense.

“And your lips,” you added, gaze lowering. “I like those a lot.”

“Y/N…” Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Yeah?”

He slowly exhaled. “I just don’t want you to regret this.”

“Jimin.”

He opened his eyes.

Your expression was serious. “I told you I wouldn’t jump into something before I was ready,” you said, lifting your other hand. “But I’m not in love with Finn anymore. It doesn’t hurt when I think about what happened last semester. I like you, Jimin. I want you. I don’t want to keep pushing you away. I get if you’re unsure about this, though. If you’re unsure about me.”

Jimin’s gaze roamed your face. “Unsure?”

“I know I hurt you before. I shouldn’t have kissed you and ran away. But I promise this isn’t like that. I’m not running away. I’m the furthest thing from running and I –”

Cutting you off, Jimin pressed his lips to yours.

You shuddered a little, leaning into his kiss before he pulled back. Jimin exhaled, barely a breath before he kissed you again.

Noses brushing, lips lingering, the kiss slowly deepened. Your hands curled into his hair, pulling him forward to bask in his warmth. It was dizzying, how different this felt than last time. Last time you’d been heartbroken, desperately yearning each time your lips had touched.

Now, Jimin felt like air, like sunshine as you drowned in his presence. Hand grasping your waist, Jimin moved you closer so your chest nestled to his. Lifting his fingers, his touch skimmed your jaw, your hairline before he circled the nape of your neck.

Drawing away, he bit down on your lip. With a low sort of moan, Jimin sought your lips again. When his mouth opened yours, his tongue swept forward and you nearly combusted.

This was only to tease, though. Only to taste before he pulled away, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. Thumb skimming your jawline, Jimin tilted your head back to brush a kiss to your throat. Moving higher, he worshiped a slow path up the column of your neck. At your ear, he nipped gently before he returned.

Now, his kisses began to deepen. Mouths opening, your tongues brushed only briefly before he chose to withdraw. You were glad you were kissing on the couch, because suddenly your own legs felt weak underneath you.

Hand re-gripping his waist, Jimin pulled you against him. Eager, your hands found his neck and the blanket dropped to the floor. It wasn’t enough, though – you needed more, wanted to feel him fully beneath you. Rising on your knees, you swung a leg over his lap and settled on top.

Jimin hissed, his head hitting the back of his couch. Your dress had ridden up in the process, exposing your thighs – his thumbs skimmed the surface before he looked up.

“Shit,” Jimin croaked.

Smiling, you bent to kiss him again. Jimin arched upwards, each part of your body electric where you touched. He shifted his hips, granting friction and heat which made you short-circuit. Pressing yourself closer, your thighs sild backwards until they nestled around his waist.

Jimin’s hand found your spine, pulling you closer as his hips pushed upwards. You groaned when you felt him shift underneath you. The kisses grew steadily hotter, this ache in your core increasing with every touch.

“Can I…” Pulling away, Jimin glanced lower. “Can I take off the sweatshirt?”

“Yeah,” you said, a bit dazed.

Jimin didn’t waste time, helping you pull this swiftly overhead. It was tossed on the ground and when your dress was revealed, he inhaled.

Slipping his hands up your bodice, Jimin met your gaze. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he confessed, his voice hoarse.

“Do what?”

Your breath hitched when his hands skimmed your breasts, lingering in all your softest places.

“Touch you,” Jimin said. “It was torture to see you, to look at you and not be able to do this. Not how I wanted, anyways. I’d tell myself not to think about it, but…”

“Jimin.”

He paused and looked up. “Yes?”

“Touch me. Please.”

Without hesitation, Jimin slid his hands lower. Cupping your ass, he pulled you against him and allowed his other hand to drift up your spine. You shivered, closing your eyes as your head tilted back.

His hands slid up your front, over your breasts and under the straps of your dress. Jimin’s thumbs drifted lower, brushing your nipples through the fabric of your bodice. Opening your eyes, you looked down at him and saw his gaze darken.

Reaching higher, Jimin cupped the back of your neck and returned your lips to his.

He kissed you slowly, purposefully as you melted forward. Shifting against him, the kiss began to intensify. Mouths opening, your tongue swept forward in bold strokes against his. Suppressing a whimper, you ground your hips on his lap.

“Is,” you murmured, breaking free. “Is your bedroom unpacked?”

Jimin went still. “I – mostly, yeah.”

“Can I see it?”

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, releasing your thighs as he stood from the couch.

You laughed, sliding down his front as your feet hit the ground. Tugging your dress down, you followed Jimin when he grabbed your hand. He pulled you down the hall, coming to a stop at the last room on the row. Pushing open the door, he flicked on the light and came to a stop.

Stepping forward, you glanced around Jimin’s room. You recognized some of the items from the two times you’d visited Jimin in the dorms. Photos of his family were carefully hung on the wall and he had the same pillows laid over his queen-sized bed.

Turning around, you took a step backwards and sat on his bed. “It’s nice,” you said, patting the comforter. “I like it here.”

Jimin watched you, his gaze half-lidded from the hall. “I like you here.”

Cheeks heating, you watched him enter and gently shut the door. Leaning back on your elbows, you arched a brow.

“Where’d we leave off?”

Jimin exhaled as he crossed the room. “I think you were on my lap,” he said hoarsely, kneeling beside you.

You nodded, moving to straddle him as he leaned to the wall. Catching your waist with both hands, Jimin pulled you against him, kissing you roughly even before you sat down. Suddenly ravenous, his hands slid to your ass as he rolled you against him. Inhaling sharply, you sucked his lower lip between teeth as he groaned.

Reaching up, Jimin tugged on your hair as you inhaled, throat exposed for him to kiss slowly down your front. When he returned to your lips, you ground your hips impatiently over the bulge in his pants.

Shifting his weight, Jimin’s spine hit the wall. He stared at you, slightly dazed with his kiss-reddened lips. Without looking away, Jimin lifted his fingers and began undoing his shirt. You stilled, watching each inch of skin be revealed. When he reached the last button, you gave in and helped push this aside. Smiling, Jimin sat up as his shirt fell to the floor.

You weren’t sure where to look first. Hands faltering, you slid them up his abs, over his shoulders and down his biceps. He was so perfect, it almost hurt to look at. Jimin’s breath quickened as you touched him and slowly, he lowered you down to the bed.

“Enough,” he said roughly, returning your lips to his.

As you kissed it turned lazy, nothing but grinding and touching. Jimin’s hair was messy beneath the pull of your fingers. He didn’t seem to mind, his own hands digging into the curve of your thigh. Playing with the hem of your dress, he deftly slid upwards.

“Jimin,” you said, breaking free. “Unzip me.”

His gaze darkened. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Jimin nodded, following suit when you sat up beside him. Turning around, you exposed your back and Jimin began to lower the zipper. He moved slowly, taking his time as his fingers brushed skin. Holding the dress up with your hands, you waited until it was fully unzipped before releasing it to the floor.

Turning around, you found Jimin’s jaw slack.

“You…” He roughly inhaled while he scanned your body. “Lace, Y/N? Really?”

“Do you like it?” you asked.

You may have gone overboard preparing for tonight. Although you hadn’t been sure what would happen, you also hadn’t wanted to be caught off your guard. Tonight, your constant need to plan had come in handy. Beneath your dress you’d worn a crimson lace bra and panties – a matching set which Jimin seemed to like, based on his expression.

“You’re going to kill me,” he muttered, lowering his lips to your neck.

Kissing slowly down your chest, he came to a stop where the two halves joined together. Skimming the length of your torso, his hands trembled a little when he brushed the lace.

Jimin looked up. “I’m sorry I keep touching you,” he murmured. “I just – you’re driving me crazy. You’ve been driving me crazy.”

“You said that before,” you whispered.

“I meant it.”

Kissing again up your body, he lingered in places your skin was exposed. Inhaling, your eyes fluttered shut as you grasped his shoulders.

Jimin’s hand slid between your thighs. “Part them,” he murmured, and you obeyed.

Heart racing, you opened your eyes and watched Jimin drag a finger slowly up the center of your panties. Even you could feel how damp the fabric was, how wet and ready you were for him.

Lifting his finger to his lips, Jimin sucked. “You’re soaking,” he breathed, sounding eager. “So good to me.”

Lowering his head, his tongue flicked your breast. Teasing the nipple through fabric, he urged and he sucked until it was fully erect. Moving onto the next one, Jimin grazed with his teeth until it pressed wantonly into the lace cup of your bra. Moaning his name, you arched against him.

Finding your wrists, Jimin pinned you backwards as he continued. Thighs caging your waist, he kept you hostage with his exquisite torture. The lace of your bra was now drenched, Jimin sucking debauchedly through fabric.

“Jimin,” you groaned, twisting on the sheets. “Please.”

His hips rolled lazily against your center. “Not yet,” he insisted before pulling back. “Not until you make a mess of my sheets. Want to ruin these panties.”

Sliding a hand between your thighs, he lightly circled your entrance. Feeling how wet you were, Jimin softly groaned. Sitting back on his heels, he finally relented and pulled your panties down. Tossing these to the floor, he returned to your thighs and spread your legs.

Lightly, Jimin dragged the pads of his thumbs up and down your panty line. “God, you’re so perfect,” he murmured. “Got my sheets fucking soaked.”

Separating two of his fingers, he slowly dragged his digits up and down your folds. You inhaled, feeling needy while you watched him touch you. Each brush of his fingers had you dripping – teasing over your entrance, he refused to give you exactly what you wanted. Feather-light, Jimin circled your swollen clit with his finger.

Hands gripping the sheets, you could only stare while Jimin brought you closer and closer to the edge. He was barely touching you, but it was the most turned on you’d ever been in your life. Jimin’s thumb swiped over your clit, rubbing you gently as you keened in frustration, arching against him.

He continued like this until you were gasping, begging for more and then – only then – did he slide a finger inside you. Legs trembling, you arched on his mattress and stared at him, glassy-eyed. When Jimin began to move in and out, you lost all control.

Lowering his head, he closed his lips over your clit.

“Oh my god,” you whimpered as you broke apart.

Barely did he suck before you were coming undone, pulsing around his fingers. Shuddering with pleasure, you collapsed on the bed as you rode out your high. Gently, Jimin pulled out his finger and returned to your lips.

Reaching behind you, he undid the clasp of your bra and tossed this on the floor. Once you were fully naked, he pulled you against him. You felt limp, thoroughly sated, but familiar excitement began to stir at his front pressed to yours. Tilting your head, he gently kissed you while your fingers wound in his hair.

Jimin moved slow, letting you take the lead. Your core continued to throb with oversensitivity, although this seemed to lessen the longer you kissed him. Before long, your nipples were hardening as you rubbed against him. Fingers digging into your thigh, Jimin pulled this over his hip to watch you lazily grind.

Realizing he still wore pants, you lowered a hand, determined to fix this. Jimin helped, dragging the zipper down to throw both these and his boxers down on the floor.

He bent to kiss you again, but you placed a hand on his chest. “Wait,” you murmured. “I want to see you.”

Jimin exhaled, leaning back so you could take in his body. If you’d thought his chest was unreal, it was nothing compared to his trim hips, sculpted thighs and cock nestled between.

“Oh,” you said, dragging a hand down his front.

Jimin shuddered a little. He was already hard, his cock thick and pretty with a reddened tip. It made your mouth water to look at, wanting to lick up the shaft. Reaching between you, you closed your fist around him and slowly jerked him off.

You watched in fascination as Jimin responded. His jaw tightened, abs tense while you teased over his frenulum. His cock responded instinctively, hardening further the longer you touched him.

After a few minutes of this, Jimin shook his head. “No more,” he said huskily, taking your hand in his. “I’ll come if you keep doing that.”

“Oh?” you murmured, gaze darting lower.

He chuckled, a rough sound in his throat. “I like watching you come,” Jimin confessed, his cock hard between you. “It turns me on. I’m… still trying to recover from your last orgasm.”

“Oh,” you said, in a completely different way.

Jimin exhaled, hair falling forward. “I hope that doesn’t weird you out.”

“Does it… weird me out that you like giving orgasms?”

“Well, when you put it like that.”

“How else would I put it?”

His grin became devious. “You could ask for another.”

Breathless, you nodded and Jimin’s gaze darkened.

He descended your body, not wasting any time as he positioned himself between your legs. Licking slow up your center, you gasped and instinctively drew your legs higher. Jimin didn’t bother easing you into it. No, now he ate you out like he wanted to.

Kissing your folds, he returned to your clit and sucked this into his mouth. Rolling the sensitive bud with his tongue, he teased and released before you knew what was happening. He continued to do this, spreading you underneath him and bringing you close to coming, only to pull back and leave you maddeningly empty.

Spreading your folds, he began licking sweetly over your clit. This was followed by loose, lazy sucking and more tender flicks. You stared dazedly at him between your legs, the sight more erotic than anything you could’ve imagined.

Grinding his cock into the sheets, Jimin thrust his hips while he pleasured you. You could tell he enjoyed this; each grunt from his lips was more affirmation. Moving lower, he circled your cunt with his tongue just to lap up your juices. You gasped at the sensation, having never felt it before. Flicking your clit with his thumb, Jimin fucked your cunt with his tongue before he slowly withdrew.

Spreading you wide, he returned to your clit and you clasped a hand over your lips before a moan could escape. Each curl of his tongue left you gasping, writhing beneath the pleasurable onslaught of his mouth. Pulling away, Jimin pressed a gentle kiss to your thigh before he rose up your body.

At your mouth, he kissed your fingers. “You don’t have to be quiet,” he told you. “I want to hear the noises you make, Y/N. It makes me feel good.”

Removing your hand, you slowly nodded.

Jimin just grinned, dropping between your legs to begin eating you out again. This time, you didn’t hold back. Jimin seemed to appreciate this as you slipped further from control. He was so good with his mouth, making you see stars as your legs started to shudder. When he slid his finger inside you and fingered you again, your hands fisted in the sheets.

“Ji-jimin,” you gasped, writhing beneath him. “Jimin, I – oh.”

He began to move faster, adding a second finger as your insides clenched around him. Everything tightened, hovering at a breaking point while Jimin continued, relentless. His mouth on your clit, his fingers inside you – everything broke apart when you came, gasping his name.

Jimin didn’t move, kissing your sex as you slowly came down. He lapped at your sex, licking up your arousal before withdrawing his fingers. Once your breathing had steadied, Jimin returned to the sheets beside you.

“Good?” he breathed, draping an arm over your waist.

“Oh my god, yes,” you exhaled, burying your face in his chest.

He laughed, pulling you closer. Jimin started to pull away, which made you look up and frown.

“What are you doing?” you said.

He paused. “I’m looking for a tissue.”

“Why?”

“I… I’m kind of at a loss here.”

“No, I mean why now,” you said, baffled. “I can come again, Jimin. I want to come with you inside me.”

Jimin stared at you a moment.

“Unless…” Uncertain, you hesitated. “You don’t want to…?”

“Fuck,” Jimin muttered, sounding hoarse. “No – I want to. I really want to. Are you sure, though?” he said, reaching to open the side drawer of his bed.

You grinned when he pulled out a condom, ripping this open.

“I’m sure,” you murmured, moving closer.

Jimin rolled the condom onto himself, pausing before he went any further. Shifting his weight so he hovered over you, Jimin searched your gaze. Reaching lower, you casually stroked his cock and guided him to your center.

He didn’t enter yet, content to take his time. Instead, Jimin bent and kissed you, dragging a hand down your side. His fingers paused at your breast, tweaking your nipple until it stood fully erect. Moving to your waist, he curved under your ass and lifted your hips to his.

Arching upwards, you felt his cock brush your center. The touch made you pant, wanting him inside you and wanting it now. Rolling over his length, you marveled at the feel of him between your legs. Having him so close and not having him inside you was maddening.

“Jimin,” you whimpered.

“Yeah?” he murmured, continuing to thrust between your thighs.

“Please,” you begged him.

“Alright, baby,” he said and rolled you onto your back.

It was the first time he’d used the endearment, sending a wave of warmth through you as your legs parted. Reaching lower, Jimin positioned himself at your entrance. It took him a moment to work his way in; you were so wet, he needed a second try. With only his tip inside, you immediately clenched and buried your head in his shoulder.

Lightly, Jimin brushed a kiss to your hair. “Relax, baby,” he murmured, making you glance up. “I’ll make you feel good. I promise.”

Slowly, you nodded. “Okay.”

Laying slowly back down, you tried to relax while he worked his way deeper. With slow, shallow thrusts, Jimin finally bottomed out and you stared at him in amazement. His cock was thicker than you were used to and stuffed to the brim like this, you felt so full. Glancing down, you saw his hips nestled snugly to yours.

When you looked up, Jimin met your gaze. “I’m sorry,” he exhaled, hanging his head. “I just – I need a minute.”

“What’s wrong?” you blurted, immediately worried.

A smile passed over his lips. “Nothing’s wrong.” He looked up. “You’re just… fuck. I feel like a damn virgin. You’re so tight and wet, I’m losing my mind.”

Hearing him say this sent a shiver through you. Shifting your hips, you reveled in the sensation of him moving inside you.

Jimin groaned. “No,” he protested. “You can’t do that right now.”

“Do what?”

“Try and make me move,” he murmured. “I know you can’t see yourself, so you can’t see how hot you look. Tits out, pussy spread and dripping all over my cock.”

“Oh,” you breathed.

“Sounding like that.”

“Jimin. If you don’t –”

He suddenly thrust deeper, grinding his pelvis against your core and making you groan. Speechless, you stared as he slowly pulled out. Jimin teased you with his tip, moving a few inches back in before he thrust again.

“Oh,” you groaned, jolted upwards on the bed.

His gaze dropped to your chest. “Fuck,” Jimin said quietly, dropping down to an elbow.

He moved again in earnest, thrusting slowly in and pulling back out. It made your breath catch, needing more but loving the torture. It was torture to feel every inch of him and have Jimin continue to hold back. You knew he could go faster, deeper, but wanted to stay in control.

Dropping his head, Jimin slowly kissed your neck. His cock continued to move, fucking you slowly as your legs opened wider.

“Jimin,” you whimpered.

Your hips chased after his, hoping to coerce him deeper.

He smirked. “Yes, baby?”

“Please,” you said, arching against him. “I want more.”

“You want it harder?”

As he said this, Jimin increased his strength. Keeping the tempo the same, each thrust of his cock had your lips parting with pleasure.

“Yes,” you whimpered, barely hanging on.

“And faster? You want that, too?”

You nodded, slack-jawed as Jimin sped up the pace. His cock began to pound into you, hand fisting in sheets as he gave it to you hard. Arching underneath him, your hands dragged down his back as Jimin fully let go. With each thrust of his hips, his pelvis brushed your clit and yet, it still wasn’t enough.

“More?” he teased, continuing to fuck you.

“More,” you whimpered, sliding your hands up your breasts. Tweaking the nipples, you watched his gaze harden. “I want more, Jimin.”

He immediately moved, as though he’d been waiting for this. Grasping your ankles in one hand, he lifted them high overhead and pulled his cock out. You gasped when he did so, your hands falling to the side while you were put on display. The position pushed your pussy lips together, giving an incredible view of your dripping cunt.

Jimin plunged his cock back inside, nearly making you scream. It felt so deep this way – so deep and hard and deliciously wanton. Jimin fucked you from above, hips slamming into you and making your breasts bounce.

Jimin groaned, his hips never faltering. “Touch them,” he said, lowering your ankles to one shoulder. “Touch your tits for me, baby.”

You obeyed, hands sliding over your breasts to tease your nipples. This sent a shock of pleasure straight to your core and Jimin hammered your g-spot, making you see stars. Jaw slack, you could only lie there and take it while he made you come.

It was too much, the wave of pleasure threatening to overwhelm, but then Jimin leaned forward and you finally snapped. You felt him release into the condom as you fell apart, rope after rope of hot cum inside you.

Eventually, Jimin softened and fell onto his elbow. As he opened his eyes, he sought your gaze and you smiled. His cheeks were flushed, his hair dark and sweaty and you couldn’t help the deep surge of affection within you.

“I don’t know about you,” he murmured. “But that was pretty fucking incredible.”

“Same here,” you whispered. “I’d like to do it again sometime.”

“Three orgasms weren’t enough?”

“Were they enough for you?”

“No.” Jimin laughed. “I could watch you come all night. But we should probably get you cleaned up and all that.”

“Probably,” you agreed, although you made no effort to move.

Eventually Jimin sighed and gently pulled out. Tossing his condom in the trash, he showed you to the bathroom and let you do what you needed to do. When you returned, Jimin was on top of his bed. He’d put back on his boxers and held out his sweatshirt.

“I thought you might want this,” he said, uncertain.

Smiling, you took it and lowered it over your head. Climbing beside him on the bed, you rested your head on his shoulder and cuddled beside him. Listening to his breathing, you concentrated until yours started to match.

Outside, cheers erupted from the street. Scrambling upwards, you fought to look out Jimin’s side window. As you hurried to see what the commotion was about, Jimin groaned when you flashed him your bare ass, but followed suit.

Glancing outside, you realized it must have turned midnight. Fireworks went off over the skyline, people cheered below, and someone had lit a sparkler on the street. Voices drifted higher, wishing each other a happy new year as slowly, you turned around to face Jimin.

He smiled at you, his happiness clear when he pulled you to him. A dizzying rush of what-if’s and excitement went through you and somehow, you knew this would be only the beginning.

“Happy new year,” he murmured.

“Happy new year,” you whispered, tilting your face up to his.

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading this series 😊 It’s been a whirlwind, so thank you for sticking with our main characters throughout the journey! I hope you enjoyed and are having a wonderful holiday season :) happy (almost) new year!

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST 

© kpopfanfictrash, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.

#btsbookclub #bangtanarmynet #bts smut #jimin smut #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #bts series #bts writing #jimin series #jimin writing #bts dance au #jimin dance au

[thrndlngs]

three times shinsou misses the opportunity to kiss you + the one time he seized the moment.

── pairing, shinsou x fem!prohero!reader ── request: x times shinsou wants to kiss fem reader??? pLZ I NEED IT ── author’s note: this was super dope & cute to write. tysm for sending this in. i hope i did this justice and it wasn’t to out of character.  also reader has a water quirk & the two of you are in your early twenties.  ♡ 

i.

     "'toshi,” you whispered, chest against his as the two of you currently hid from the group of villains. your two agencies had partnered up in attempt to take down a new gang of villains who were transporting drugs from the city to the waters, the two of you were partnered because of how the two of you excelled in your respective agencies, shinsou was sent to aid in your patrols of the waters  ──  which is why the two of you are currently hiding in a storage closet on a ship. 

  “shut up.” you don’t take it to heart, you’re sure he means it as nicely as possible - he just lacks a few pages in the ‘vocabulary’ department. 

  “we need to do something.” you tell him, trying your best to meet his gaze in the tight space (which was nearly impossible because he’s towering over you at the moment). he doesn’t reply, not at first at least, if you looked hard enough you would probably see the gears in his head turning. 

  “──stop talking, it’s distracting me.” 

  your mouth quickly shuts, fidgety hands are now at your side, you were starting to get antsy and there was practically little to no room to move around without being heard - or seen for that matter. 

  “they switch the guards every ten minutes, in the middle of the switch, we run.” the purple haired male explained, taking a peak at the time on his cellphone. the two of you had to endure this for three more minutes. just three more minutes and you would be free.

  “three minutes,” you repeated, more to confirm this for yourself. you’re sure you wouldn’t last that long, after all, this was shinsou, the male you’ve had a crush on for quite some time now. how were you expected to last that long?

  “──think of it like seven minutes of heaven.”

  “we haven’t played that since── “

  “yeah, yeah i know, but just think of it like that. don’t think about the closet, just the game.” 

  you nodded quickly, meeting his gaze as the two of you stood there in silence. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t thinking about kissing him. it seemed like the perfect moment - it was just the two of you. if it were the last day on earth, you at least wanted to go out with a bang. you know?

  “let me get comfortable, you can do the same after.” you watched as he places either hands besides your head, slouching a bit against the wall so his back could have some sort of support. he nods to you, signaling for you to do the same. 

  it takes you a moment, the position shinsou is currently in causes your heart to skip just a few beats. were you disappointed in yourself for letting your mind drift.. elsewhere during a mission? for sure. did you care right now? absolutely not.

  you cleared your throat, widening your stance and trying to balance the weight in between your legs to help ease some of the weight  ──  but there wasn’t really much you could do.

  “two minutes.” 

   this had to be the longest three minutes of your life.

   “i think i just tasted my own sweat.” he complained. it feels like he’s sweating in places he shouldn’t produce sweat in.

  “i feel like a fish out of water,” you added.

  “──gonna start passing out if i don’t throw you in the water soon?”

  “says the one whose sweating to death.” 

  “and you’re dehydrated. guess we’re both shit out of luck aren’t we?”

  “yeah, but, i think this isn’t the worst way to die.” 

  he takes another peak at his cellphone, noting that there’s a minute left before the two of you could finally get out of this damn storage closet. “you’ve got a minute to tell me anything worse than dying like this.” 

  in hindsight ── there’s a lot that could happen in a minute, that’s the only reason you said something to begin with. “alone, i could die in this closet, alone and then you know, it would be lonely.” 

 “are you serious?” 

  “oh come on! that’s pretty serious!”

  “it ── it really isn’t,” he’s trying to laugh as quietly as possible and you playfully slapped him in his shoulder. 

 “okay, well, i wouldn’t want to die alone.”

  “mhm, scaredy cat.” his smile is infectious and for a moment, he forgets that the two of you are stuck in a storage closet. maybe now would be the perfect time to kiss you, when it’s just the two of you, waiting to make your grand escape, when the two of your are just centimeters apart. 

  “now’s our chance,” he whispered, straightening himself to get out first just in case. he doesn’t want to act off of impulses. if he kisses you, he wants to make sure it’s because you want him too.

ii.

     “good to see you when you’re not acting like a goldfish who just hopped out of it’s bowl.” the familiar voice teased from behind you, hands folded behind his head. if it were anyone else, you might have tripped them.

  “──don’t you have to go buy hair dye now or something?”

  “no that was after i made sure a fisherman didn’t take you on the way home.”

  “is this what do you do on your spare time? think of jokes that revolve around my quirk?”  

  he rolls his shoulder lazily, leaning against the apartment railing across from your front door. “they come naturally, no extra thinking required.”

  “and here i thought all the hair dye went to your brain.”

   this wasn’t out of the norm for the two of you, he would make the first jab and then you would follow suit. sometimes, the bickering could go on for hours  ──  regardless of task at hand (like the time the two of you were trying to detain a villain and shinsou had told the woman you were a water sprite), it’s an old nickname of yours, he had given it to you back at the sports festival when you were kids. you had earned it when you had almost drown mineta because he wouldn’t stop making inappropriate jokes and you had brought the entire water fountain down on him. 

  as the two of you stood there in silence, you, had your back against your door, hands folded behind you while he stood parallel, arms against his chest he wonders: is this the time he kisses you goodnight? 

  “d’ya want to come inside? i have leftovers? we could pull an all nighter like we used to do back in the dorms?” there’s a hint of hopefulness in your eyes and he would feel like absolute shit if he declined the offer.

  “only because you have food.” 

  he doesn’t kiss you goodnight then. and he doesn’t kiss you goodnight when you fall asleep on his shoulder after the second horror movie either. if you were anyone else, he would’ve left without a care in the world, but it’s you and you are different. 

  so he stays and tells himself that tomorrow will be a new day and tomorrow, he can try again.

iii.

     “i don’t dance,” shinsou tells you as you so desperately tried to bring him onto the dance floor. it’s a hero’s gala, everyone from your respective classes at U.A. were here, pro heroes from all around the world and some of your old instructors as well  ──  these aren’t his thing, you know that. you remember his attitude during the first two hours of the third year’s ‘goodbye party’ - not much had changed. he’s taller, a bit more handsomer and smiles more often. 

  “you do tonight, come on.” while you had dragged him by one hand, the other desperately tried to loosen his tie because it feels like he’s suffocating. 

  “──you’ll be the death of me woman.” he’s mumbling under his breath, one hand resting in yours as the other found its place at your waist.

  “because i asked you to dance? might i say this is on your list of horrible ways to die?” you teased, offering him that infectious smile that makes him go weak in his knees. he hates to admit the pull you have on him  ──  he might even go as far as saying you might have him wrapped around that finger of yours and you don’t even know it yet.

  “if it’s by your hands i would say it’s a merciful death.”

  “a merciful death? i’ll keep that in mind.” 

  “don’t test your luck,” you know he’s only messing with you  ──  

  you’re to busy enjoying the moment to think of some witty comeback. it’s something about the way your hand seems to fit perfectly in his. or how the two of you are able to move in sync without any words spoken in between the two of you that’s driving you insane.

  if you would’ve told your past self that you would be slow dancing with the hitoshi shinsou at a hero’s gala while the world around you disappeared you would’ve laughed at the idea. it would’ve seem silly to you  ──  stupid even. shinsou and you weren’t rivals like you and bakugou were, but, you had always found yourself trying to one up him. 

  yet here you were, swaying to the slow tune as you managed to snake your arms around his midsection and rest a head against his chest. maybe this was his chance: with the little distance in between the two of you, dim lighting and dressed to the nines. surely, this would be a good memory to relive later down the road wouldn’t it? 

  but he wanted to savor the moment. so he decides it against it  ── despite the ache in his chest.

  iv.

     "we did it.” shinsou muses, an awkward hand offered in your direction for you to shake. it’s been six months but your agencies had finally shut down the smuggling operation and you could finally take the break you had so desperately needed. you weren’t sure what to do with the outstretched hand, but, you give in anyways, resting your hand in his as he gave it a firm shake.

  “pleasure doing business with you.” you tell him, lips curving into a bittersweet smile. teasing, bickering and ‘playful’ sparring aside, you were going to miss him. you were used to patrolling and doing missions on your own but this was different. 

  “try not to end up on the other side of fishing hook, yeah?” it’s his way of telling you to be careful in shinsou’s teasing nature.

  “make sure i’m the one to grant you the merciful death.” please be careful, is what you want to say. though you couldn’t bring yourself to say it aloud - if you did, it would only confirm that you care about the purple haired pro hero more than you should. 

  he shakes his head with a laugh, “you’re the only one who gets the satisfaction.” 

  “it better stay that way ‘toshi.” 

  he doesn’t know for certain if your agencies would cross paths again. your agency was closer to the waters and he was closer in the city, the chance that you would run into one another again would be slim to none. 

 he clears his throat for a moment, retreating his hand from yours and placing them at your waist instead. he’s pictured this a thousand times but now that he’s in the moment he couldn’t manage to find the right words. it’s frustrating, really.

  “──hi.” you’re holding your breath in anticipation, was this another one of his games? was he going to kiss you? tell you a secret? use his capture weapon and tell you that he’s not letting you go until you admit something embarrassing?

  he doesn’t care anymore. doesn’t care if it makes him look like a love sick idiot when he kisses you like it’s the last thing he’s about to do before he dies, he doesn’t care if anyone’s watching or for the wrinkles you’ll cause since you’ve got a fistful of his shirt in a desperate attempt to close whatever little distance the two of you had between you. 

  you pull away first causing him to pout (which was actually cute but you’d never give him the satisfaction of knowing that) but you do laugh.

  “you know,” he muses, a hand reaching up to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly, a habit you hadn’t seen in years. “──i didn’t want to let you walk away without something to remember, my little water sprite.” 

  you rolled your eyes at the choice of nickname but were flattered nonetheless, your own arms finding their way around his neck, “who said i was walking away?”

#shinsou fluff #shinsou x reader #shinsou x you #shinsou x y/n #bnha imagine #bnha drabble #mha drabble #mha imagine #shinsou tbt. #( this is so lame bc i wrote this at 1:43 am while at work JHADKJHDA ) #╰ ♡ ✧ ˖ 𝐉𝐀𝐘𝐄 ┊ WRITINGS .

[fruitcoops]

Hi Eve! Could you maybe write something like Sirius having a majorly stressful week and he's been on edge all day and he finally decides to go talk to Heather if only to just let it all out. By the time he comes home he's exhausted but Remus is all ready for him, and he's greeted with the sight of Remus in a nice little heap of blankets and pillows piled up on their sofa with a Disney movie ready to play and all his favourite snacks lined up on the coffee table. And Sirius of course just about dissolves into a puddle of affection and gratitude because Loops 🥰🥰🥰

It's honestly concerning how much fluff I write. Oh, well! This is such a cute idea and I'll never pass up an opportunity to write soft Coops <3 SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

“So, you’ve started baking?” Heather looked up as Sirius nodded, fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie. It still smelled a little like Remus from the last time he stole it, but not nearly enough to drown him in comfort. “That’s awesome. If you don’t mind, can I ask why you chose that as a hobby?”

“It’s—” Stupid. He bit the words back at the last second; Heather never liked self-deprecation, and they had been working on positive self-talk for…as long as Sirius could remember, really. “Uh, I helped Re’s mom make a pie over the holidays and I just have good memories associated with it, I guess.”

Heather jotted something down, her soft smile never faltering. She was wearing a sweater the same color as her name—it was distilled comfort, and Sirius felt some of the tension release from his back. “You said you do it when you’re stressed, right?”

“Sometimes.”

“Does the rhythm help, or is it something else?”

He stared at his hands, rubbing his thumb over the callus from his favorite spatula that was beginning to form. “I think…” he trailed off and bit his lower lip. Honesty always wins. Why do you like it so much? “The rhythm helps quiet my head down, yeah. And it smells like home. And—and if I do it right, I can’t screw it up.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“If I follow the recipe, it works. Every time. I can read the instructions as many times as I need to, and I can focus on that until everything up here—” He gestured vaguely toward his head. “—shuts up for a bit.”

Heather nodded; the room was quiet for a moment while she wrote before she settled into her chair and let out a slow breath. “I’m really happy you started doing this, Sirius.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep. We’ve talked about finding healthy amounts of control and tethers in your daily life, and from what you’ve said, this makes you happy in addition to helping you calm down. What do you do with everything you make?”

He shrugged. “Give it away, mostly. It’s healthier than store-bought stuff, and the guys like it. Re and I can’t eat it all ourselves.”

“How often do you stress bake?”

“Oh, probably three or four times a week.”

Shit, shit, shit. Heather’s eyebrows crept upward. “Oh?”

“…yes.” Can’t take it back now.

“Okay.” She made a quick mark on her clipboard—for the hundredth time, Sirius wished he could snatch it and run. “Interesting. Why are you so stressed?”

“It’s not like that all the time,” he said quickly. “Just over the past couple weeks.”

“What’s been going on?”

“Everything?” he said. It sounded more like a question. Heather made another note. “It’s—well, Jules got the flu two months ago and Re wasn’t sleeping because he was worried, so I got nervous and started staying up later so I’d be tired, but then I got bored and worried about both of them so I texted Hope about her pie recipe—"

“Sirius,” Heather interrupted gently. He closed his mouth and tucked his hands into his sleeves, palms itching. “Deep breaths, then tell me what’s been going on these past couple weeks specifically that was stressing you out.”

He obliged, counting ten before speaking again as his brain stopped feeling like someone poured pop rocks into it. “Right. So, this whole habit thing started two months ago, and we’re getting closer to you-know-what—”

“The playoffs?”

He made a quiet noise of distress and tapped the wood of the chair. “Oui, that. There’s a lot of pressure from last year, and when my friends are stressed, I get stressed, and baking is easy and fun so I just…didn’t stop. A lot of things are happening right now, and this feels like the only one I can control.”

“There you go,” she said with a proud smile. “Thank you.”

“What did I do?”

“You’re being more open and honest with yourself. It’s good to see.” She crossed one leg over the other and leaned slightly forward. “You’re a really, really good captain, Sirius. You are so in-tune with the other people in your life, but you’ve got to remember to step back and do things for yourself sometimes. Right now, baking is your stress relief because you can’t control your friends’ lives or emotional states. Try to find more things like that.”

He stared at her for a moment. “Are you diagnosing me with ‘needs a hobby’?”

“In a sense, yes. You have done an incredible job over the past few months of letting your world revolve around things other than hockey. Branching out to baking was an excellent choice. Now it’s time to find other things that give you similar comfort, okay?”

“Alright.”

“Fantastic. Let’s brainstorm.”

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

Sirius dropped his bag next to the shoe rack and immediately leaned back against the door, closing his eyes with a sigh. Therapy was always exhausting, but usually in a good way. Already, he could feel the weight of the last three weeks lifting off his shoulders. “I’m home!” he called.

Remus materialized from the living room and padded over in his fuzzy socks, planting a kiss on each of Sirius’ cheeks. “You look tired. Good or bad?”

“Good,” he assured him. “We worked on finding a hobby.”

“Oh?”

“Apparently, baking every other day isn’t a great long-term coping mechanism.”

Remus kissed him lightly on the lips. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear that.”

Sirius pulled back with a frown. “I thought you liked my baking.”

“I do. I also worry about how much space we have in our kitchen, and how much you sleep.” He gave Sirius a squeeze around the waist and patted his hip. “Now c’mere, I have a surprise.”

“What kind of surprise?” Sirius asked warily as he allowed himself to be pulled toward the living room. “Do we have company?”

“Does Hattie count?”

The dog in question barked when they entered the room, though she was buried beneath a mountain of blankets and only her nose and tail stuck out. In the hour and a half Sirius had been gone, the living room had transformed into a massive fort—the couch cushions were propped up around a nest of pillows and blankets, and low amber light fell over everything from the side table lamp. It radiated coziness and warmth; he felt the last bits of his exhaustion settle into contentment. “Wow.”

Remus beamed at him. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.” He cupped his face in his hands and nudged their noses together. “And I love you. So much. I’m going to go rinse off and change, but can we cuddle afterward?”

“What do you think this is for?” Remus teased. “You took my sweatshirt.”

“It’s too big for you anyway.”

“How long until I find it in my laundry pile because it doesn’t smell like me anymore?”

Sirius pretended to think for a moment, though he couldn’t keep his smile down as happiness bubbled through every vein. “Tomorrow.”

“Go take your shower,” Remus laughed, then kissed him once again. “I’ll see if I have anything else that’ll fit you.”

#sirius black #remus lupin #hattie #heather #sweater weather #coops #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #therapy #baking

[littlemissnoname13]

The life he always wanted (D.M.)

Summary: Draco’s life after the battle of Hogwarts

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x female!reader

A/n: I wrote a multi-chapter a few months ago that never made it on here. This one shot has been pulled out of it and posted as a one shot just like “You and your green apples.” Which was supposed to be a part of that same multi chapter too.

Warnings: angst, Multiple mentions of avada and death so please read at your own discretion. Also please feel free to message me if I need to add any more disclaimers.

Word count: 2100+

The only thing illuminating the dark room was the flickering light from the television. 

Draco thought the muggles had really outdone themselves with that one as he had spent one too many nights in front of the television with a bottle of fire whisky.

Some nights he’d be too wasted to realise he’d been watching static for hours. 

Faint, fuzzy music could be heard all around the room even though the volume was set to a minimum and Draco took this opportunity to waltz you across the living room of your cozy one bedroom home. 

The house wasn’t too big but it was just the way you’d always wanted it to be—big glass windows, hardwood floors and a small spiral staircase leading to the roof. 

“The life we’ve always wanted.” You sighed and placed your head on his chest. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Draco.” 

One of his hands was placed securely on the small of your back while the other held your hand as you moved together with the music. Your soft, flowy hair bounced as he twirled you in his arms. 

“Oh really?” He smirked and watched you nod your head in response with a sad look in your eyes. 

“Yes really.” 

“Well I’m here now Darling so there’s no need to worry about all that.” He whispered, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “I’m not going anywhere. You know that don’t you?”

“I know Draco.” You whispered and he pulled you closer to him. “I know.”

Draco couldn’t begin to imagine what his life would be life without you in it. 

Shuddering at the dark clouds forming at the top of his blond head, he closed his eyes and inhaled sharply to make the clouds drift away. 

“Don’t you have to be somewhere tomorrow?” You asked tilting your head upwards to look at him. Draco noticed that your eyes brows crinkled a little as you said this—the look of worry somewhat prominent. 

“Oh yes.” He sighed, rolling his eyes at you. “I really wish you didn’t remind me.” 

“But you haven’t met our friends in so long.” 

“Your friends. ”He corrected you curtly. “And it’s only been a few months.” 

Well, it had been more than just a few months but It wasn’t his fault that he’d rather spend all his time with you. 

Draco noticed that you giggled when he said that as if you knew before taking his hand and guiding him towards the bedroom. 

He decided to not utter a single word of protest as he quietly followed you into the bedroom. 

“Come lie with me, Dray.” You whispered as he watched you slip under the covers. You looked so peaceful, so content and the whole moment seemed so fickle like it would fade away if he moved too quickly or blinked too hard. 

He hastily removed his shirt slipping under the covers next to you—his head on your chest as you lazily played with his hair. 

This was everything he’d ever wanted. 

“I love you y/n.” 

“I love you too.” 

~~~~~~~

“Glad you came, Malfoy.” Ginny smiled the best smile she could smile, opening the door to let him in the house.

“Well hello to you too Weaslette.” 

“Come on inside. We were all waiting for you.” Ginny said she led the way towards the living room filled with familiar voices and faces. 

“Potter. Weasel. Granger.” Draco muttered as he gave all three a semi polite nod of acknowledgement. 

“I uh—like your hair.” Harry commented looking at Draco’s unkempt blond hair now growing towards his shoulders. 

Upon hearing Harry, Draco ran his fingers through his hair and fought an urge to say something snarky. 

“So, may I ask why I’ve been summoned here?” Draco finally said as he sat down on an armchair opposite to Harry. 

“We just wanted to see you. You have been gone for a…bit...” Harry replied, clearing his throat. And we thought you might want this.” 

Draco raised his eyebrows suspiciously as Harry stretched out his hand to hand him a sealed envelope. 

“Cup of tea?” Ginny asked. 

~~~~~~~~~ 

As soon as he reached home, he tore his clothes off and jumped into the shower. 

He let the warm water wash away the ache he felt all over his body. There was no tell tale sign indicating the pain was physical or emotional. 

Nonetheless, the warmth of the water helped. 

To some extent. 

After what felt like hours in the shower, he finally stepped outside and wrapped a towel around his torso. 

The bathroom had fogged up and the fog had travelled all the way into the bedroom. 

In an attempt to get the fog to disappear, Draco cracked the surprisingly large bedroom window open and let the crisp night air flow into the room. 

“Someone’s back home early.” He heard you  mock in a sweet singsong voice making the tiniest of smiles appear at his lips as he turned around to face you. 

You were wearing a flowy satin dress and were perched on the top of his desk—dangling your legs. 

He paused to admire and remember every detail about the sight in front of him. 

The way the gust of wind coming from the window blew your hair towards your face. The way that flimsy satin fabric hugged your body. The way the flickering table lamp casted shadows on your features. 

Everything.

“I just couldn’t stay away from you.” He shrugged and watched you chuckle and get down from his desk. 

He patiently waited as you took long strides towards him before finally wrapping your arms around his neck—stretching on the tip of your toes and bringing your face close to his. 

“Open the envelope Draco.” You whispered softly into his ears. 

A flash of lightning lit up the entire room with a blinding white light as the sky roared. 

Draco nodded as he slowly reached for the crumpled envelope he’d left inside his coat pocket.

Taking a long breath, he looked up at you and you gave him an apologetic yet reassuring smile while he ripped the envelope open.

The opened seal of the envelope brought along with it, a familiar scent of cedarwood and vanilla. It was the smell he could smell on his clothes after spending the day with you. 

A small photograph fell out of the envelope.

It was a Polaroid you’d unintentionally taken one summer. Both of you had questionable expressions on your faces because you were both trying to get the Camera to work. 

You were chewing your lip in confusion and his nose was scrunched up; you both were not ready for the photo at all. 

His hands shook violently as sporadic rain drops started to pour down from the window leaving tiny splatters on the worn out photograph.

“Why?” He spat in anger. “Why did you have to throw yourself between me and that killing curse?” 

You smiled an apologetic smile at him once again; you did that a lot. 

“You’ll get drenched Draco—close the window.” You said,  dodging his question completely while you reached towards his hand again.

“Stop dodging my question.” 

“It hadn’t rained for a while.” You said making him heave a sigh and look up at the night sky.

One rain drop and become two and two had become three.

Draco took a wobbly step towards you and fruitlessly wiped the drops of rain that were falling on your cheeks. 

“And now it’s raining.” He pointed out with his voice shaky. 

“Excellent observation, my love.” 

The way you said it, the nonchalance in your voice made him furious. You were gone but he had to wake up every single day in a world where you no longer existed. 

In a stupor of grief, he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you towards him. “Don’t you see?— even the sky is grieving the loss of what could have been! The life we could have lived!” 

“I like to think it’s the universe washing away the hurt and pain.” You whispered, staring deeply into his steely eyes. “You’ll see. It’s going to be a beautiful morning tomorrow. I can feel it.” 

“Why y/n? Why didn't you let me die instead?—you are gone and what am I left with? A worn out photograph of you?!” 

“Draco—”

“Every damned day, I feel further and further away from you.” He began sobbing. “The smell of your perfume is fading from my sweater, I cannot picture the way you used to laugh anymore—for the love of Merlin! I don’t even remember what life was like when you were with me y/n. It all seems so far away..so distant.”

“You have to let me go, Draco.” You whispered as you pressed your forehead to his. 

He physically felt the pain of his breaking heart all over his body. The sharp pain brought back all the trauma he had suppressed over the last few months. 

“No…No. No. No—Please don’t leave again.” He pleaded as angry tears started to roll down his cheeks. “Please. I—I don’t think I can handle it.” 

“You’ll see me again. I swear.” You said softly as he began to laugh an ominous kind of laugh, knowing deep down that you weren’t even there in front of him to begin with.

Everything was all in his head. 

Twenty seven months.

He’d been talking to the voice in his head for twenty seven whole months while the world moved on without him. 

“When? When will I see you again? In another life? Merlin!” Draco said in between his hysterical laughter. 

“Maybe.” The figment of his imagination whispered caressing the side of his face till he calmed down. “Maybe in another life I won’t find myself having to jump in between you and the killing curse.” 

Draco gave you a disapproving glare before he leaned down to find your rain soaked lips. 

With his index finger and thumb holding your chin up, Draco kissed you gently while his own tears and the acidic grey rain continued trickle down his face. 

It took him every ounce of strength he had left but he nodded like he was saying his final goodbye and took a step back— releasing you from his embrace and releasing him from his grief. 

You slowly turned on your heel and walked towards the door. 

“I’ll be waiting for you Draco.” 

He closed his eyes because he wasn’t ready to see you leave. 

So after what felt like centuries, Draco slowly opened his eyes. 

He was all alone. 

~~~~🍂🍁🍂~~~~

Autumn. 

It could be seen in the rustling trees and the gust of wind that made the amber colored leaves that were once bright green fall down onto a winding pathway beneath trees. 

A young woman strided along the winding path. Clicking her heels. Head tilted upwards, taking in the pinkish purple sky in all of its glory. 

A few books were tucked underneath her arm and a cloth bag loosely hung on her left shoulder. 

She was so occupied by the pleasant weather and whatever thoughts were circling her head, that she didn’t even realise that she had collided with somebody.

“Sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

She apologised profusely before she knelt down on the ground to collect the books she’d dropped. 

The stranger hummed in response and helped her gather the contents that had fallen out of her book bag. 

An oddly familiar smell tickled her senses. It was the smell of cologne and fresh mint. 

The smell of the cologne was so foreign to her. It was like nothing she’d ever smelled before and yet, she found herself feeling awfully comforted by it.

The smell sent her into a state of déjà vu. 

She looked up through her lashes and saw a boy with steely grey eyes making an eerie sense of familiarity washed all over her body. 

“I’m sorry, have we met before?” 

The boy blinked a few times before cracking a small smile. “I think we’re in the same Art history class. Judging by where you’re headed.” 

“Right.” She nodded as they slowly walked down the path together. “Don’t mind me. It’s just.. it’s just that you seem oddly familiar to me.” 

He shoved his hands into his pocket as they quietly walked next to each other. The silence wasn’t an awkward one. 

Not for him at least. 

It felt almost as if they’d always been walking together for years—in another timeline, in another life.

It all felt habitual. 

“Tell you what? He finally said looking down at the girl he’d just met. “How about we get coffee after class and discuss this further. You seem oddly familiar to me too.” 

“I’d like that.”

Her eyes pierced a million daggers into his heart.

“I’d like that a lot.” 

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

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Love you all,

Vi

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco fanfiction #draco angst #draco one shot #draco lucius malfoy #draco fic #draco x y/n #draco x you

[treesandtheirberries]

Dad!Harry talks to his daughter about her questioning sexuality

A/N: might make this into a blurb series? so presh. if you have any concepts around this, send them my way. 

wc: 2,249

June was Harry and Y/N’s first baby, their biggest accomplishment before they were soon having another child. June was currently 13, the awkward age of Middle School, puberty, and overall questioning of identity. Y/N and Harry wanted this weird stage to be a smooth transition. They always encouraged her to express herself, with clothes, in hobbies, with their conversations. Although their first child, they both felt as though they managed to get through the difficulties of becoming a parent easily (thanks to the massive amount of parenting books, from birth to adolescence, that Harry kept buying while June was still in the womb). 

Yet, there is only so much you can prepare your child for, and surely you can’t be there to guide them through every difficulty. Harry and Y/N weren’t sure if June would question her sexuality as both of them weren’t straight, they didn’t know if the process was the same for heterosexuals. But they never skirted around the topic. If anything, they encouraged watching same-sex couples in movies and such, even having many friends who had families with someone of the same gender (or a partner that was non-binary). 

Harry hoped that this would be an excellent way to acclimate their children to the varying diversity of the world. Y/N grew up with racial diversity, but anything deviant from heterosexuality or cisgender was heavily frowned upon. They hoped that with their lack of omission of the varying aspects of identity their children would have the opportunity to understand themselves easier rather than constantly question their identity. 

They forgot to take into account that this was simply a stage in adolescence they had to endure though, as Eric Erickson put it: a fight between identity and role confusion. And June was currently right at the center of it.

June, even as a child, was usually calm and they rarely had problems with her being fussy like they do with the twins, Mazzy and Mick (named after the artists constantly playing on their home turntable). Thus, any changes were quickly noticed in her behavior. 

-------

Picking up the kids from daycare and June from school was on the top of Y/N’s list of things to do for the day. She adored seeing everyone’s faces after a day at work and seeing their warm smiles and tight hugs always brightened her mood. 

Today, things seemed different. 

June jumped into the front seat with a grunt, a frown, and even went as far as throwing her bag onto the floor of the car forcefully. This was generally out of character, except Y/N and Harry have noticed these bursts of anger more recently. 

“What’s eating at ‘ya bug?” Y/N calmly asked, wanting to maintain a balance of emotions although knowing June was perhaps all over the place as most teenagers are. 

June rubbed her hands on the top of her thighs and noticeably took a few deep breaths; a calming tactic her father taught her when she was younger to calm herself. She took a few more breaths until facing her mother to talk. “Sage didn’t want to hang out this weekend,” she finishes, the frown being found on her face once again.

“Oh, is she busy? Thought you two were having a sleepover at home?” Y/N inquired. She knew Sage and her daughter were best friends since the beginning of sixth grade, and she hoped they would maintain their friendship although she knew the ups and downs adolescents faced it might not be possible.

“She said she’s going to the mall with Rye.”

“As in the bread?” Y/N chuckled, trying to lift the mood.

June rolled her eyes, another behavior that has risen in frequency. “No mom. A boy. That she likes.” She grumbled crossing her arms and sinking further into the seat.

“Oooooh I see what’s going on here, Sage is going on a date!” She rose her voice to a pitch of puppy love, which didn’t sit well with June. 

“We promised we wouldn’t date boys in Middle School. They’re all so stupid and ugly. I don’t get why she’s ditching me for him.” 

Y/N was a bit surprised by this. Harry and she have talked about the day they’d have to worry about June’s infatuation with others and they were dreading it. Hearing that June didn’t have interest in it now was a relief, but of course, this whole conversation was concerning. 

“I understand, not the nicest to make plans with someone when she already made some with you. But June-bug, you guys are teenagers. Of course, she’s going to take an opportunity to go on a date with a freaking boy!”

“Language momma!” Mick yelled, the three-year-olds’ well acquainted with naughty words.

“I guess. Just rude s’all.” June finished with another grumble. She wasn’t known for throwing huge fits, and her outbursts were usually this short. 

Still, Y/N knew that this would be something that would affect her for the rest of the week. Her daughter is calm but incredibly sensitive, and the two parents have learned how to work through her internal struggles. She decided to ask the usual question during June’s turmoils: “wanna talk to dad about it?” 

“Yes please.”

--------

Harry was finishing washing the plates as Y/N was getting the twins ready for bed. The small domestic moments like these reminded Harry of how lucky he was to have a family like his. He noticed June’s mood as soon as everyone entered the house, and once Y/N confirmed they would need to talk later, Harry was preparing himself to support his daughter through her problems. Y/N and he were definitely lucky with their firstborn being like June. Sometimes he’ll credit his efforts in teaching June meditation early, and depending on the day, Y/N agrees. 

As he dries the plates to put back in their cupboards, June walks in. 

“Hiya bug. C’mere give Poppa hug.”

June rolls her eyes (he’s having a hard time adjusting to these teenager habits) and walks closer to her father. Although she’s extremely close with both of her parents, there is a timeless connection she has with her father. “Not a child anymore dad. And please, do not call yourself poppa again. You’re not that old yet.” She mumbled in his chest, clearly needing the affection.

“Mom said you wanted to talk? Want her there?”

“Uhm. Maybe we could just talk in my room please.” 

“Of course, let me just put these plates all back” Harry smiled, only letting go of the hug once he felt June move away. A small trick he learned from his mother after she attacked him with countless parenting trips: never let go in a hug with your child, let them determine when the hug is over. It gives them more comfort and stability in their lives and although he saw this as minimal, he understood its significance.

“I’ll help.”

----

As they walked to June’s room, they caught Y/N walking back from the twins’ room. “Hey baby, twins are done for. I’ll be in the room. “ She pecks Harry quick on the lips and turns to June to wrap her in a hug. “Love you cutie,” she winks at June as she goes to her room.

“Love you momma” June smiles, happy that she has a supportive family like this one. 

“I’ll be there in a bit,” Harry smiles, his arm going back to June’s shoulders, giving it a squeeze. 

Once they get to her room, both take a seat on June’s bed. Her back is on the headboard while Harry sits at the edge facing her, cross-legged. Every once in a while June would request to speak to Harry, Y/N,  or both of her parents on the issues bothering her. Harry and Y/N were proud of having a daughter that felt comfortable enough to communicate with her parents, and they always were looking for new ways to enrich themselves with the issues kids have a different ages. 

“Speak to me June, what’s on your mind lady?” Harry starts, initiating the push. He can tell that she’s struggling to bring her thoughts to words.

“Did you....well. How did you ... realize you didn’t like ... uhm, just girls?” She hesitantly asked, too flustered to look at her father on such a strange topic. 

Oh, it’s happening, Harry thought. “Well, I was pretty young, I guess around your age, and I realized that I just wasn’t fully straight. It developed from there I guess, I talked to a few friends about it, spoke to your grandma, and eventually met a boy I really liked. It was really scary, I’m not going to lie, figuring out my feelings at that point. After that, it wasn’t a big deal and everyone in the family understood. I just knew something like gender wasn’t a big deal to me, and if I liked someone I liked them. But it’s different for everyone. Your mom can tell you how she found out she’s bi.”

June was soaking in the information her father gave her. She knew both of her parents weren’t straight, but hearing how they found it out was something entirely different. It wasn’t that she was foreign to the concept, but in personal terms, it was utterly confusing. 

She finally looked to her father, giving him a small smile at the personal information he shared. They were a very open family, but something about this felt even more personal. “But, did you ever think you were faking it?” 

“Not really, but you already know how pretentious your father is,” he chuckled, lighting the mood. “Your mother, as she’ll tell you, had a completely different experience. Said she struggled for years thinking she was either faking it or actually completely gay! She once told me that she just couldn’t disclose it with anyone, and that led her to a lot of contemplation. But if you’re feeling this way too, I need you to know your mother and I are here to support you in any way we can.”

“Dad,” June scrunched her eyes looking down at her crossed legs. “I think I might like girls. Or at least, I think. After Sage told me she’d ditched me I just realized I don’t like her just as a friend.” 

At this moment, tears began to form in her eyes from all the confusion. Instantly Harry brought her into aa encompassing bear hug, keeping her safe in his chest. It hurt him to see her going through this dilemma, the inter-workings of adolescents were never fun. 

“It’s just,” June suddenly choked on a sob, grasping her dad’s hoodie. Harry began to rub her back for support. “I like her I think. Like really like her dad. I don’t want her to date a boy, I want to date her. But she won’t like me and...I don’t know! Why did this have to happen to me!” She continued, clearly soaking his hoodie.

“Oh baby, please don’t ever think this is a bad thing. Sexuality is a spectrum, many of our friends are somewhere on it, and you already know Elizabeth and Mary are married. This is a beautiful thing to discover baby. But yes, I won’t lie to you, it’s going to be hard. There may be times you like someone who doesn’t like girls but bug, that’s simply life.”

“What if I am dad. I don’t know if I like boys at all.”

“Then you are. As simple as that. You can label how you feel or not, it’s all about what feels most comfortable to you. As you know, your mother and I will be here to support you in any way we can. If you like girls, so be it, you’re still our daughter and you know that. If you like boys, which I mean yuck,” he imitated a gagging noise, rising a laugh out of June “then okay. Both or everyone? It’s all okay bub. I do want you to think about it, It might take some time to accept it but we’re accepting you any way you are. You’re so beautiful and strong, and your sexuality doesn’t diminish that in any way.” He made sure to hug her tightly as he said this, expressing his full support. 

“Dad, thank you.” June exhaled, releasing herself to wipe her tears. 

“Of course, June. I’m so happy you were able to tell me this, I know it must’ve been hard.”

After a deep breath, June looked calmer after her small crisis. “I knew you guys would be okay with anything but it’s just, much harder than I expected to really like your friend who doesn’t like you.”

“It’s hard, so so hard. Ask your mum, seriously I swear she told me she also liked one of her friends at your age. Universal gay experience perhaps?” Harry pondered. 

June gave a small laugh to that. “Yeah, I’ll ask. I don’t want her to think I left her out of this, it’s just that I’ve heard about your sexuality in the media more.”

“Pesky things, but I understand. It was so hard for your mom in comparison to me. Do you want me to let her know first, is it okay that I let her know you might be questioning?” He gave her daughter a sincere inquisitive look, valuing consent over everything. 

“Yeah, of course. Probably talk to her tomorrow after we drop the twins off. I really appreciate it, dad.”

“No problem bug. Let’s get you tucked away.” 

__________ part 2

OH MY GOD this is my first I HOPE YOU LIKE. please any feedback would be so sexy. 

#harry #harry styles #harry styles prompts #harry styles one shot #harry styles one direction #harry blurb #dad!h #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #one direction #1d #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #fine line

[existslikepristin]

Please, No Virginity Puns

The most recent thing I posted before tumblr. It was on Choerry's birthday, and I am proud of that.

Tags: TheLounge, Loona, Choerry, male reader insert, it's her birthday!, 100% butt stuff, I ate a thesaurus

~~~~~

It didn’t matter what you had to say anymore. Choerry was already on top of you, nude and keeping you muted with her tongue. How did you get there?

Well, moments prior, you were sitting next to Choerry at your small dinner table. She’s always insisted on sitting as close to you as possible in order to enable near-constant snuggling. It’s gotten a little annoying here and there, but you can’t help but concede to her innocent demands whenever she smiles.

Of course, and not that you’ve ever complained about this, that’s not to say that her demands aren’t always entirely innocent. Most of the time they are, but not always.

That day, for example, you woke her up with breakfast in bed. It wasn’t tradition, but you were just getting her back for the last time she did it for you. And what better day to present her, prone, with a pancake, pulverized potato, and porridge parfait platter… with toppings… than her birthday?!

It can be hard to tell if Choerry is acting or not at times, but you’d like to think that her cartoonish level of enthusiasm for the treat was entirely real. She carried that sunshine throughout the rest of your day, skipping through the park, greeting everybody on the way to, inside, and on the way out of The Lounge, at the surprise party that you helped all of her members get her with, and when she dragged you to her room.

Not a drop of alcohol had touched her lips that night, so it was all the more surprising when she shoved you onto her bed and stated matter-of-factly-but-also-vaguely that she wanted you to put a thing in her butt. Her words came out of her mouth like shimmery soap bubbles.

You had to pause for a moment to process her words. You were certainly up for some sexy times with Choerry. You had anticipated it was going to happen when she put your hand down her pants near the end of the birthday party with no attempt at subtlety. But her exact word choices had you rubbing your temples out of exasperation, even as she stripped herself down to her ridiculously cherry red lingerie.

Your chance to admire that rare view was lost to history, however. She removed the lingerie from her body while she claimed your lips. Your disappointment at not getting the opportunity to remove it yourself quickly faded when she popped back up though.

Her breasts were as perky as her attitude, and also your dick. She was quick to notice the latter and made quick work of your clothes too. She sighed satisfactorily at the sight of your sword and stooped to supply it with a suck and some slickening slobber, so you suspected the sex was starting summarily; more swiftly than standard, it seemed.

Concerned for her well being, you made sure to ask if she had lube available. Again, you weren’t going to complain about her gusto, but she lacked the anal experience that some of your mutual friends had, at least you assumed. Sure enough, there was a bottle mere feet from her reach in her drawer. She grabbed it and jumped back on top of you, pouring it generously over her ass crack and your cock with surprising accuracy for someone so engaged with a hot and heavy kiss.

You were sure you had something to say on the matter. Perhaps some additional words of caution, maybe some other words of encouragement. It didn’t matter what you had to say anymore. Choerry was already on top of you, nude and keeping you muted with her tongue. How did you-- come back around to the exact same thought that the story began with?

“It’s okay, right?”

You attempted to blink away your stupefaction. “O-okay?”

“Mhm! For me to… you know!” She leaned in and whispered directly into your ear, “Put your penis in my butt.”

Ah, yes. The demand that you had nearly forgotten in her flurry of kisses, now slightly reworded to include your dick in the equation. “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

“Just checking!”

“We’ve… done this before.”

“I know!” Choerry swooped back in to continue kissing you, implying that she had no intention of expounding further. Her fingers wrapped around your cock, massaging the whole length to ensure that the lube had maximum coverage.

Your breath caught as you felt her readjusting you, tapping you around between her legs as she tried to match you up with her intended target purely via exploration. Your cock was ground between her ass cheeks, the tip slid over her clit, and dipped briefly into her pussy. A groan was the only complaint you could give to only being given a half second of her fantastic heat.

You didn’t have to wait long to get it back. Her ass opened up to the pressure she applied against it with your dick, but exceptionally slowly. Choerry released a series of little exclamations into your mouth as she pushed. She tossed the lube bottle to the side and snatched your hand, curling her fingers into your palm.

Finally, the last pop came, and was followed by a short slide. With no more manual guidance necessary, she grabbed your other hand as well, which promptly slipped out of her grip considering the amount of lube present.

Choerry released you from your kissy bliss to look at her slippery hand, a mixture of anger and amusement on her face. She tried a couple more times to hold your hand with it, but you liked this look. You easily slithered your hand out from under hers every time she slapped down. It was like watching a cat trying to catch a laser pointer.

It was just another reminder that no matter how deep inside Choerry you may physically be, she’ll never stop bringing a goofy-ass smile to your face.

Finally, you relented and entwined your fingers with hers, locking your knuckles together so you wouldn’t fall apart. She glared down into your eyes, but a grin still crept through. “Thank you,” she said, lips tight and nose scrunched up.

With you fully in her grasp, Choerry straightened herself up, allowing you the opportunity to look up and down her sublime figure. Though her movement caused her to cause you to penetrate her a bit further which caused her to flinch slightly, she kept herself aloft on her knees to not go too far all at once. She closed her eyes and took a series of deep breaths there, as calmly as if she was meditating.

As much as you wanted to go ham on her ham, you didn’t want to hurt her, so you contented yourself with watching her chest rise and fall. “Happy birthday…” you whispered.

“You’ve already told me that today,” Choerry intoned, eyes still closed like she was drifting off into her own little world.

You laughed. “I was saying it to myself! Have you seen you?”

She smiled again, and said three words in a voice that made it seem like she was speaking to an audience on the edge of their seats, “Okay, I’m ready.”

Her fingers constricted around yours, so you questioned if she was, in fact, ready. But you wouldn’t be the one to stop her.

Choerry’s tight tush trucked its way toward the top of your tower twice to tighten her take on the task at the time, before torturously trending testicle-ward. She temporized without taking your entire tool.

So hypnotized were you with her graceful movement that you didn’t even notice the frustrated moan coming up your throat until it was too late.

Her eyes popped open. “I’m sorry!” She sounded like she meant it, too. “This is… tough.”

“Take your time,” you said, straining your voice for comic effect.

“Could have used that four paragraphs ago,” she said, continuing her extremely slow descent down your shaft.

The odd statement distracted you just long enough for Choerry to finish her drop. No longer did space separate your pelvises. You grew concerned again when she winced and bit her lip from the inside.

“Choerry, we really can do something else. Don’t hurt yourself please.”

She gave you an exaggerated, indignant gander. “Rhetorical question: Who gets to choose the cake on her birthday?”

You held in your “cake” joke.

“It’s me,” Choerry’s voice was far too chipper to make this talking-to sound as stern as you were sure she wanted it to come across as. “As birthday lady, I get to pick the cake, and I get to feed it to you if I want to.”

You held in your “cake feeding” joke.

“And tonight, the cake I pick is my bum.”

You opened your mouth to comment on her most excellent selection of the word “bum” in the midst of a scenario where your cock is fully inside of said bum, but you instead gasped a sharp breath.

Choerry ground forward, pulling your dick with her and anointing the lowermost part of your stomach with the juices being lightly sprinkled from her clit.

“Besiiides,” she continued, re-angling her hands to she could tickle the backs of yours, “We have all the lube! Even some that’s got a certain special flavor to it!”

“Just some?”

“Yeah, ooh,” she crooned, apparently quite enjoying the grind back down your pelvis, “I didn’t get it all at once. Now guess the flavor!”

You waited for her grinding to pause again to be able to think straight, “Does it start with a ‘C?’”

Her smile grew. “Yes!”

“Is it a fruit?”

“Yes!”

“Is it… cherry?”

“Failure!”

“Wha--”

“It’s coconut!”

If you weren’t so established in your hand holding with Choerry, you’d have palmed your face. Thankfully, thoughts of how she could have possibly expected you to guess that were pushed to the back of your mind as she resumed her removal of your breath with a series of fanciful body rolls.

Finally fucking her fanny felt fictional. For while not the first foray there, far-fetched was the philosophy that it was fielded often, the front being the favored fornication fissure for the foreseeable future. Unless, of course, you could make this an especially special session.

But woe was unto you. Choerry had the upper hand(s) figuratively as well as literally. But, perhaps, you thought, this was exactly what she wanted and you could wait your damn turn to take control.

And you liked letting her anally probe herself this way, so, you know, what were you to do but enjoy the ride?

Over the course of her self-imposed ravaging, Choerry’s meditative breaths became ragged. Her eyelids fluttered at regular intervals. Through it all, she held her phantasmagorical demeanor. A couple of times she reached for the lube bottle and shotgunned it somewhat inaccurately between her legs, but it did the job. You were happy to see that she was still considering her own comfort.

In fact, to your surprise, her mouth opened wide in a silent shout. Her core trembled anticipatorily. Her hands held yours with a colossally increased lewdness. And those two mystical words trickled from her tongue with a high-pitched susurration, “I’m… cumming…”

Choerry’s grinding came to a grinding halt. Her body jerked and she fell onto you. Your cock sprang free of her ass in, and as a result of, the same motion.

You untangled one of your hands to stroke her back in the most adoring fashion you could muster. After chewing on a thesaurus for the prior hour, you were sure neither of you really needed any more words.

She stayed there for a spell, and you were happy to let her. It was so late it was nearly no longer her birthday, but her birthday it still was. She deserved the rest, along with the rest of your undivided attention.

Her whole movement consisted of her back going up and down as her lungs attempted to revive her fighting spirit, and her thumb lovingly shifting over the divinatory lines on your palm. You wished she would do something about her hair plastered on your chin, but ninety-nine percent of paradise is paradise enough.

You were disappointed when Choerry rose once more, slimily straddling your stomach. She detached her hands from yours to give the hair on either side of her face a good backward flick over her shoulders, and she sighed with contentment.

It was a shock to hear her speak again after such a prolonged reticence, but her unerringly cheerful voice was entirely welcome nonetheless.

“More please.”

You couldn’t then, and you still can’t help but concede to her innocent demands. Her smile just touched the corner of her lips. Sure, some of her demands aren’t so innocent, but… How did you get here again?

#loona smut #kpop smut #choerry #male reader insert

[machinegunbun]

PETE ACDS

A/N: The long awaited (about two months) fic! It hasn’t been proofread but I wanted to get it out so I could go get dinner. I’ll fix any problems when I get back.

Word count: 2,973 but Imma round it up and say 3k for my ego

If there's one thing you know, it’s that there’s nothing like a good game of dress up to boost your confidence. you’d been staring at yourself in the mirror for the last half hour, admiring the way your body looked in the new lingerie.

Let's make one thing clear. You are not, for the most part, a very confident person, but it’s hard not to be confident when you look this fucking good. There would be vigorous debates between multiple world leaders on the topic of what was more poppin’, your highlight or that ass, and after years of deliberation and consulting multiple experts top in their field, it would be determined that they both excelled in different ways, coming together to create the hottest bitch on planet earth. God damn, I am that bitch, you thought.

When you’re feeling this confident, there's only one thing to do. Show your man what he's got. Reaching over, you grab your phone from the bed before returning to the mirror. Clicking it on, you swipe over to open the camera while posing in front of the mirror.

It wasn’t until you looked back on your photoshoot that you realized you’d been giving yourself fuck me eyes in almost every picture. In need of validation and praise for your hard work, you click Pete’s contact and send him a few.

The next few minutes were full of you admiring yourself, imagining in detail the things you would do to yourself if you were Pete.

Pete, on the other hand, was doing the exact same thing. He hadn’t taken his eyes off the photo since he’d received it, taking his time raking his eyes over every inch of your body. Pete was very lucky to have a job doing something he enjoyed, meaning he was never in a big rush to get home, but today he definitely would be.

When Pete finally walked through the door he was more than ready for what tonight would hold, but his excitement was cut short as he was met with a room of your friends. They had shown up unexpectedly and you’d been trying to get them to leave ever since you’d gotten his text,

“I’m on my way home. If you aren’t in that lingerie on the bed ass up by the time I get home you’re gonna be in so much fucking trouble.”

but, they wouldn’t take the hint. You loved them, but they were shitty at taking hints. When you heard him walk through the door your mind began racing, knowing if you didn’t find a way to shoo your friends out early you would be in deep, deep-

“No, no it’s okay. Stay for a little, I could use it. How have you guys been?” Pete says as one of your friends stands to leave, finally understanding that it must have something to do with Pete coming home. You can see the warning in his eyes when they meet your own, his back turned to your friends as he eyed you, wearing nothing but his shirt, practically swimming in the material.

He listens absentmindedly as your friend fills him in on the conversation about her boyfriend- Er, ex-boyfriend, you all were having before he arrived, making his way into the kitchen where you were making snacks.

“Right, right.” He says, giving your friend a vague response to show he was listening before leaning down to whisper in your ear “What the fuck do you think you’re doing inviting your friends over when you know you’re in trouble?”

“I didn’t-”

“I should take you into the bathroom and fuck your brains out just to teach you a lesson, but I think you’d like that a little too much, wouldn’t you, slut.” He whispers, turning to acknowledge your friend entering the kitchen

“Do you guys have any alcohol? I just really wanna get drunk.” She says.

It took around an hour for your friends to finally leave. You had a good time, and for a moment you even forgot you were in trouble with Pete. You almost thought he had aswell, until he approached you after shutting and locking the door behind them for the night.

“You wanna explain yourself?”

“I’m sorry, I was ju-”

“I just- I was only- What? You just knew you were in trouble so you invited your friends over to get out of it?”

“No! I didn’t even know they were coming over! My phone was dead.”

“I guess that’s why you read my text and still disobeyed me then, huh?”

“Well- No, my phone was charged at that point.”

“That’s okay, you’re gonna make it up to me. Instead of just being punished for trying to distract me at work, you can-” as the words were leaving his mouth, your phone dings. Speak of the devil. Your breath catches in your throat as the tension in the room grows. Seriously? You think, Right now? Could the timing have possibly been worse?

“Check it.” He challenged, glaring down at you. Your eyes flicked over to your phone, memories of what you had done just hours before to get yourself into this flooding your mind, your gaze quickly returning to his, unsure if it was rhetorical “Go ahead, you’re already in trouble.”

“It’s Casey,” you gulp “dinners ready.” Pete looked mildly inconvenienced by this, maintaining a silent eye contact momentarily before motioning you up the stairs with a look on his face that said ‘What are you waiting for?’

It wasn’t every night that you would have dinner as a family, but Casey had just gotten back from a vacation with friends, so Amy wanted to take the opportunity to have everyone together.

You walked in front of him, taking one step at a time, holding your breath. The anxiety- no, anticipation was overwhelming. You’d waited so long just for him to get home, and now you’d have to wait again.

Casey had cut him off mid sentence, You began to wonder what he would’ve said if she hadn’t. Your leg twitches as you realize you’d only find out in the moment. No time left for warnings, when you finally got back downstairs there would be so much build up you doubt he’d take the time to write a speech.

Ma sat opposite Pete and you at the table, an empty chair next to Ma for Casey who was currently fixing herself a plate, your own full plates sitting in front of you. Dinner for tonight was steak and potatoes with cooked asparagus. It was hard to focus on food. Instead, you dragged the tongs of your fork through your potatoes, hoeing the mashy farmland that was your dinner, when you felt a hand grip your thigh.

You were feeling quite the range of emotions now, a hard contrast to how you were feeling when you got yourself into this mess. You’re scared, but excited, submissive, but bratty, nervous, but wet. The anxiety of it all is killing you, wanting nothing more than to go back downstairs and make it up to him.

“Hey, stupid.” Casey says, smacking Pete on the back of the head as she makes her way to her seat.

“I’m not stupid, you are. Stupid.” Pete replies, Amy scoffing at their sibling banter.

“That’s enough, she just got back. Be nice to each other. How was everyone's day?” Amy asks, trying to motivate some decent dinner conversation.

When you made it back downstairs Pete gave you a glare that said you were on very thin ice tonight. He made his way over to the couch, taking a seat, his legs slightly spread with his feet planted on the ground.

“Do you want me-”

“Get on your fucking knees and suck. My. Dick.” He demands, making it obvious that tonight would not be the night to disobey.

Your hands worked quickly, unbuckling his pants and pulling them not halfway down his thighs before pulling his underwear down just enough for his thick member to spring out. You quickly got to work teasing him, swirling your tongue around his tip before taking it in your mouth and hollowing out your cheeks, moving down a bit before coming back up and repeating, taking your time with him.

“Seriously? You’re gonna tease me? You wanna play that game right now?” Pete says, you toss the words around in your head for a moment before deciding that you had probably gotten yourself in enough trouble for tonight. You began bobbing your head slowly, letting his hand on the back of your head set the pace.

“Hmm, that's right,” he groaned “apologize to daddy.”

Every once in a while he would push down unexpectedly and you’d gag, on the other hand sometimes you’d go too far down for his liking and he’d pull you back by your hair. He was making sure that you knew every aspect of tonight was going to be for his pleasure, down to how you sucked his dick. It was so hot.

By the time he pulled you off you were wet in more ways than one, both your face and his lower half covered in your spit.

“Such a good girl for me, huh?” He says, reaching down to slip his fingers between your legs, sliding his digits against your core, sliding one in slowly before immediately removing it.

“So wet too, barely even touched you,” He slips his finger into his mouth, moaning at the taste “I need to taste you.” He groans, his grip on your hair not faltering as he pulls you up to lean against the arm of the couch, burying his tongue deep inside your soaking wet cunt. Desperate moans and words of encouragement slip past your lips as he works you with his tongue, his hand slipping under your, well, his shirt, massaging your breast. You whine as he sits up to take it completely off, the moment over before it really began.

“Stay here,” He says, walking into the other room.

You sat patiently for what was beginning to feel like forever, facing the couch as you wondered what he was doing. You could hear him shuffling around in the other room, presumably looking for something. 

What was taking him so long? You’d both been waiting the same amount of time for this, you arguably longer than him, and he had barely even touched you yet.  It was only fair, you thought, that since you’d helped him out a bit that you help yourself.

You check that he isn’t walking back into the room as you slip your hand between your legs, letting out a small breath through parted lips as you rub yourself through your underwear. You didn’t realize how badly you needed this until your hips were rocking against your hand, trying desperately to give yourself what Pete could so effortlessly. Your mind wandered back to you on the bed, moments before your friends arrived, your orgasm slowly approaching when

There was a knock on the door.

Pete must’ve forgotten his keys, you thought. You scanned the room for something to cover up with, quickly grabbing one of Pete’s shirts he had lazily discarded on the couch the night prior.

The metal of the door handle was cool as you wrapped your hand around it, a stark contrast to that of your skin, pulling the door open. A moment of shock washing over you as you’re met with the sight of three of your bestfriends standing in front of you in the cool, dark night. You stutter out a quick invitation inside from the cold and a question of what they’re doing here.

You shook the thought away, returning to what you had been thinking of before they arrived.

The kiss was messy and desperate, a perfect representation of the way you both were feeling. His hands were all over you, slipping your shirt over your head while you worked on unbuttoning his pants. You needed him so badly, and from the looks of the bulge protruding from his underwear, he needed you just as much. Your lips were on his neck while his hand made its way around to grope your ass, love bites joining his circle of tattoos as he squeezed, your flushed skin warming his cold hands.

“I don’t remember asking you to touch yourself.”

Your eyes snapped open as you felt a hand around your neck, a newfound confidence washing over you now that your mind wasn’t so clouded by need.

“I don’t remember you touching me.” You quip, your eyes meeting as he uses his grip on your neck to force your gaze up to him. He tilts his head, looking down at you

“I suggest you shut the fuck up before you land yourself in a situation you don’t want to be in.” He says, his voice stern

“I suggest you fucking make me.” You say, his hand quickly coming behind your head to wrap your hair in a makeshift ponytail, his other grabbing his dick and shoving it down your throat, causing you to gag. Your eyes water as he roughly fucks your throat, cautious to keep your mouth open as to not hurt him. There’s a string of spit from your mouth to his tip when he pulls away, leaving your throat burning.

He returns to his place on the couch and you begin positioning yourself back between his legs, assuming he wants you to continue.

“No. On my lap.” He says, glaring down at you. You stand, confused, as you take your seat on his thigh, your eyes not leaving his. He rolls his eyes, readjusting you so you’re laying on your stomach, flat across his lap.

“I know you don’t know how to listen, but I know for a fact you know how to count.” He says, delivering a harsh smack to your ass. You lay silently, waiting for the next when he continues in a rather condescending tone.

“One.” another harsh smack

“One.” You repeat, unsure of yourself.

“Was that one or was it two?” He asks,

“It was three.” You whisper

“Restart.” He says, his hand colliding harshly as ever.

By the time you count out fifteen your ass is red and your eyes prickling with tears. You begin pathetically begging him to leave it there,

“I’ll be a good girl daddy, I promise.” You whine.

“Hm, should’ve thought about that a little sooner.” He hummed, motioning for you to sit up.

He positions himself so he’s leaning against the arm of the couch, reaching to the side and grabbing the bottle of lube he had left the room for. It makes a clicking sound as he opens it, pouring a small amount on his hand. When he’s satisfied he motions for you to come over, your legs spread as you stand on your knees overtop him. He pulls you down into a kiss, his hands reaching behind you and spreading the lube in and around your tight hole. You sit back up when he’s done, watching as he strokes his hard dick, distributing what was left of the lube onto the red and swollen member.

Pete sits up, moving behind you and pushing your face into the couch cushion, pulling your hips into the air. You pull your lip between your teeth as he lines himself up with your ass, his eyes focused on where you’re about to meet as he slowly sinks himself into you, A whimper falling from your mouth as you struggle to take him. He stalls his actions, waiting for you to feel comfortable enough to move back against him before he continues.

Pete can’t help the groan that erupts from his throat when he begins pumping in and out of you, mesmerized by the moans that are slipping past your lips as he finds his rhythm, his hand snaking around your waist to play with your clit.

Pete was always big, no matter how you were taking him, whether it was your mouth or your wet pussy or your ass, but his length and girth were much more noticeable during anal. It still felt good, of course, just different.

You feel the hand that was resting on your ass make its way up your back, wrapping itself around your neck and pulling you up so your back was pressed flush against his chest. You could feel the sweat building between you two, acting as encouragement and lubrication as you moved against one another. You struggled to catch your breath as his grip tightened, choking you and tilting your head up.

“Open your mouth.” He growls, spitting in your mouth, his spit tasting of you, his hands working magic on your clit as he pounds harshly at your ass all swirling together into one feeling deep in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck, i’m gonna cum.” You manage to slur out, your head being pulled back by your makeshift ponytail

“Excuse me? You aren’t gonna do shit without asking me first.”

“Sorry, p-please, can I please cum daddy, please.” you beg, quick to cover up your mistake in fear that he’ll deny your orgasm. By some stroke of miracle, Pete was in a good mood, so he decides to take your pleas to heart and continues until you’re unravelling around him, your legs giving out as he mercilessly pounds you into the couch. He follows soon after, pulling out and unloading himself on your back.

You both take a moment to catch your breath, his hand lovingly stroking your thigh as he sits on your legs. You turn over a bit once you’ve calmed down, careful not to get any of his cum on the couch.

“Ah, shit. Sorry. Here.” He says, reaching over to grab his shirt and wipe it up for you.

“Wow, you're such a romantic.” You remark.

#pete davidson #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson smut #pete davidson fic #pete davidson fanfic #pete davidson fanfiction