#next time take a fucking second to read a writer's pinned

[mrsmarlasinger]

The surreal thing about the Titan submersible: unless someone pulls off a miraculous last-minute rescue, when we all wake up tomorrow, those five men will be dead.

I mean, assuming they haven't already hyperventilated the last of their oxygen or imploded in a hull failure event.

It's currently June 22nd, 1:48 AM, MDT. If they're still alive, they will not be within the next...what, three hours? Give or take. And it would take hours to get the sub to the surface if it were found miles underwater, so if it's at the bottom of the sea, that really gives the rescuers...I don't know, like, maybe an hour to pull off the impossible?

These men are about to cross the event horizon.

When the banging sounds were first reported, it blew my fucking mind. I'd been certain that they were dead already, or that if they weren't, they would be soon. Without question. Then came this bizarre, impossible glimmer of hope. And I thought, if those sounds really were occurring at thirty-minute intervals, if it really was the Titan passengers, then maybe—maybe—they had a chance.

But they just...don't. Let's be realistic: they're about to die. We know this. We know for a fact that their time is about to run out.

And I know people are angry about the Missing White Woman Syndrome feel of it all. It would make for such on-the-nose satire. Five wealthy men have the world on pins and needles; where was that energy when hundreds of refugees drowned off the coast of Greece a week ago?

It frustrates me that I'm so invested in the Titan sub. It's like the entire incident was orchestrated for the sole purpose of grabbing attention (of course I don't believe that's the case). The very premise of the sub is tauntingly ridiculous—so very blatantly an expensive suicide. I saw someone compare it to an Onion article, and it IS.

The shitty video game controller, the ominous waiver, Stockton Rush's portentous comments (hell, even his name), the toilet sat right in front of that tiny dollhouse window. The absurd price tag paired with a history of failed dives and an OceanGate employee fired and sued years ago for raising safety concerns.

God, it's so dumb. It's so so fucking dumb. In real life, what we'd call "foreshadowing" is really just actions→consequences. But still. Still. It reads like sitcom writers setting the dominos for a season finale, tirelessly working to maximize memeability so we can all point and laugh with our popcorn.

The sheer pointless, brainless, wasteful extravagance of it all makes it easy to forget how horrific and tragic the ordeal really is. It grants us some strange permission to rubberneck.

And, well, who wouldn't want to rubberneck? The drama. Horror movie levels of repulsion. Any fear you can imagine—the dark, the cold, the ocean, suffocation, confined spaces, death—all wrapped into one perfect, cinematic nightmare. It's a black comedy: dumbassery punished by a fate we don't, shouldn't, wish even on billionaires.

Then, of course, there is the deadline. Pun not intended.

That, I think, is what's really gripped us. The limited oxygen supply is a countdown, a ticking time bomb. Ten minutes left in the movie—can the protagonist pull off a daring escape in time?

God, I know I sound like one of those crisis actor conspiracy theorists, but you couldn't manufacture a more gripping story if you tried. That hard figure we've seen in every news article: 96 hours. Ninety-six hours to save the day.

Can you see the Netflix docudrama now? The cuts to a black screen with the remaining number of hours emblazoned in the center? "If we don't find that sub tonight, those men are dead," some intrepid rescuer says...a split second of grave silence...then the scene goes black, except for a line of heavyweight white text that reads, in all caps, "SIX HOURS REMAINING." Next we'll see a heart-wrenchingly candid conversation between the passengers, for character development.

You know Channel 5 is airing a documentary about the Titan in the UK tomorrow. Tonight, actually, since I guess it's technically Thursday morning. The countdown was so hard-set, ITN calculated the exact hour at which they could broadcast their production. The perfect moment for them to capitalize on that post-curtains melancholy we all get at the end of a movie.

It's crass, but fascinating, too. Is ITN going to acknowledge their production timeline by leaving the documentary's ending ambiguous, a choice which will ring bittersweet when aired in the aftermath of the inevitable deaths? Will they scramble to concoct an ending in those mere hours after the passengers asphyxiate? Have they already made two endings: one in case of a miracle, and one in case of a tragedy? Any answer is soulless.

But all of this is soulless. The Titan is our gladiator fight, our bread and circuses. Still, I can't stop staring, because I cannot wrap my head around it. It's 3:30 AM now. Within hours, they will be dead, sure as an execution.

Few news stories come with such a grim deadline. Almost always it's a nail-biting rescue whose twists and turns we follow until some hitherto-unpredictable endpoint; or a sprawling clusterfuck of tragedy trailed by aftermath upon aftermath; or a search for a missing person that eventually meanders into a quiet presumption of death.

The certainty blows my mind—the finality of it, the tragedy of it, is incomprehensible. It doesn't feel real. Why do I care so much? Those men were dead from the start (if not literally, then certainly figuratively). Why do I keep reading about it, posting about it? Why can't I stop watching the car wreck smolder? What am I doing still standing in the street?

I hate that I fell prey to the submarine story like everyone else with an internet connection. But whatever deity may or may not exist got bored, I guess, and crafted the dramedy-action-horror hybrid of the year. Even wove in little cliffhangers (the banging! On the sonobuoys! There's still time!) to string us along like a damn HBO producer.

It gets me, man.

It's 4:00 AM, MDT. I guess it's really over, huh? I know 96 hours was never an exact deadline, but let's not be idealistic here.

I hope it was quick. I hope they imploded in a single terrible instant.

I hope the next sunken boat of six hundred refugees wins as much attention as the Titan did.

I hope Netflix doesn't make that docudrama with the black screen and the all-caps line of heavyweight white text.

I hope we sleep. I hope I sleep. I hope we all can sleep.

#titanic #oceangate #titanic submarine #titan submarine #titan #ocean gate #missing submarine #submarine #death #june 2023 #current events #suicide mention

[mlmxreader]

Attempts At Anger | Tommy Conlon x gn!reader

Anonymous asked: Tommy Conlon: Hello, hello! I hope you're doing good 🖤. May I please ask for a little something using the following prompts for my sweet baby Tommy Conlon X non-binary, male, or gn!Reader: "Y'know what? Nevermind"+ "Tell him, tell him that I-" Thank you so very much 🖤! 🐍anon

summary: you're trying so hard to be angry at Tommy after he makes you jealous, but you just can't help but to forgive him.

tws: swearing, smoking, jealousy

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

Tommy seemed to be the life of the party, people hanging off of his arm and telling him just how thick and strong his muscles were, how it must have been so easy for him to pick them up like they were little more than a bag of sugar; it made you want to heave and throw up into your drink, wishing that you didn’t get a canned drink. You kept rolling your eyes at what was going on, kept wishing that you didn’t have to watch it as you grumbled and shook your head, looking at the friend you had stuck with since Tommy had fucked off. 

“I’m going out for a smoke, if Tommy comes over, tell him that I-”

“Am incredibly jealous that he’s got so many people fawning over him?” Your friend teased with a playful scoff. 

“Just tell him I’m busy,” you huffed, pushing your way through the crowd so that you could escape into the garden. 

You were thankful that almost everyone, except for a few smokers crowded by the back door, was crammed inside; the garden was nice and quiet, the black wicker chairs down the bottom were still warm from where it had been incredibly sunny earlier, and you finally felt like you could actually breathe as you sat in one of them, sighing heavily as you finally lit your cigarette.

You took a long drag, tilting your head back and staring up at the bright white moon before you closed your eyes for a second, trying to get yourself to calm down; Tommy probably didn’t even like having that much attention, he probably didn’t want so many people fawning over him. And it wasn’t exactly his fault, either.

He was so handsome with his dark brown hair and his sweet blue eyes, with his soft stomach that hung over the waistband of his jogging bottoms and his thick thighs. You scowled, shaking your head as you huffed and took another long drag.

Fuck Tommy. Fuck the party. You should have never allowed yourself to fall for him in the first place, he clearly didn’t want you; he clearly only wanted whoever would fawn over him and his muscles.

Fuck, you were such an idiot for thinking that maybe you and Tommy could have been a couple, could have actually had something other than platonic love for one another. You were such an idiot.

“Can I sit?”

You looked up to see Tommy, and shrugged. “If you must.”

He gave you an odd look before he sat down, stealing the cigarette from between your fingers and taking a long drag. He didn’t smoke, but when there was a party and he was getting far too much attention, it did help to knock the edge off a little bit.

“Something crawled up your ass and died?”

You glared at him, stealing the cigarette back. “Wouldn’t you like to fucking know, Conlon?”

He rolled his eyes, guessing that your sour attitude was something to do with him. “Just fucking talk to me.”

“You fucking let everyone fawn over you all night, fucking feeling you up and flirting with you constantly, and you never even fucking look at me once,” you huffed. “And for a moment, I thought I might’ve… y’know what? Nevermind. I’m going home.”

“Wait,” Tommy growled, pinning you to your chair with his glare. “Please.”

“I don’t have time for your shit,” you told him. “Be bitter, be pissy, I don’t give a fuck. I’m done here.”

“Just fucking let me talk,” he sighed. “Please.”

“You got five minutes.”

“Thank you,” he breathed out, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t mean to make you jealous, I just… I don’t know what we are. One minute you’re all over me, next thing, you’re telling your friends I’m just a friend. If I knew what we fucking are, I… shit. I might be more careful about making you jealous.”

“I don’t know what we are either,” you scoffed. “One minute, you act like you love me - then you fucking turn around and tell me you love me as a friend. I’m sick of this shit, Tom. You gotta fucking decide what we are, because I can’t be arsed.”

“I wanna be with you. If you wanna be with me.”

“I don’t know anymore,” you admitted. “You're… Tom, you’re a lot of things, but simple ain’t one.”

“We can take it slow,” he told you. “You can start by coming over here, and finishing your cigarette sitting on my lap.”

Fuck, he just had to bring out the puppy dog eyes. He just had to look at you like a sad and abandoned kicked little puppy who had lost its way home and needed shelter. You could never say no when he looked at you like that, even when you tried your hardest; he was just too much to resist.

So you sighed, and although you wanted to act like you were angry about it, you couldn’t. Not when you sat with your back against one arm of the chair and your legs dangled over the other, feeling Tommy’s hand against your upper inner thigh after he had gently nudged your legs apart, a small smile on his lips. His thumb pressed into the fabric of your jeans, drawing little patterns that made you squirm as you scowled at him. 

“Stop it.”

He stopped. “My bad.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” you told him with a shake of your head. “It’s just… fuck. I wanna be mad at you really fucking badly, but you’re doing everything that makes me wanna just… fucking grab you and pin you against something so I can kiss you.”

He took a quick look around; the garden was deserted, it was just you and him and if he moved the chair back a little towards the fence, you would be completely out of view from everyone and anyone. “Why don’t you?”

“Because I wanna be fucking angry!” You pouted.

“So, can I kiss you?”

You folded your arms across your chest, rolling your eyes. “Fine.”

#mlem writes #tommy conlon x reader #tommy conlon fanfiction #tommy conlon imagine #tommy conlon fanfic #tommy conlon #warrior movie #warrior film #warrior fanfiction #warrior fanfic #warrior #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy x you #tom hardy x y/n #tom hardy x yn #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy fic #tom hardy imagine #tom hardy imagines #tom hardy oneshot #tom hardy one shot

[raggaraddy]

hello, so if you still take requests i want to request yandere reaction where the reader is as possesive as them, or like she willingly do anything for them and obey them. its totally okay if you dont feel like writing it or maybe you dont take request.. its just im craving reading something like that and youre a great writer :)

A/N: Hi, I am still new to writing reactions, so I hope that this is what you wanted or you at least like it.  Thank you for your sweet comments. Enjoy!

Mine

Summary: When another girl gets a little too comfortable with Jungkook your reaction's a surprise to the both of you.

Trigger warnings: Fighting, mentions of abuse, violence.

Jungkook

You had begged Jungkook to take you with him tonight. He'd been so busy with work lately and you'd found yourself missing him too much when he was gone. So when he said he wasn't staying home tonight, but he was instead going out to a bar with some of his friends, you were enthusiastic for him to take you with him. It had used to be the complete opposite. Every time he left you alone, gave you some time to breathe on your own, you were thrilled. But more and more you'd started noticing him in a new light.

Sure he's rough and demanding sometimes. And yeah, he can lose his temper every now and then. But you're not perfect either, and you know it must be hard for him, especially when you behaved so insensitively at first. However, despite your flaws or his, he deeply loves you. He accepts you for who you are and he wants nothing more than to keep you safe. How could you ever find anyone else who cared for you as much as your Kookie did?

The night started as every night out with Jungkook did. He listed out the same rules over that he had said dozens of times before.

You have to listen to everything he says and do everything he says. You don't talk to anyone unless he's with you, and most importantly, you never leave his sight. You had tried to run off a few times in the past, so you knew how deathly serious he was about that last one.

After thoroughly prepping you, and dressing you, and warning you one last time to mind the rules, the both of you finally went to meet his friends.

"Sit. Here." Jungkook pointed to the booth table at the back of the bar. You slid in and he right away pushed in alongside you, nudging you in further and further until you were all but barricaded against the wall. As his friends began to come in one by one, they all joined in a large group. While the night went on, you talked among his friends and their girlfriends. A few people got food, but most people were just drinking to excess. You of course got the choice of soda or water. Every now and then throughout the evening, you could feel JK's attention on you, and you would hug his arm a little tighter to let him know you were paying attention to him too.

At some point, it was Jungkooks turn to buy the next round.

"Y/n." He whispered lowly. Even in the middle of a conversation and with the music playing in the background, his voice caught your focus right away. You looked up to him, a small smile and big eyes. "I'll be back in a few minutes." His lips pressed to your ear, his warm breath blowing along your neck spiking tingles down your side. "If you even try to move while I'm gone, I'm going to pin you to the table by putting this butter knife through your hand." He twirls the point of the dull knife into the table, scratching the wood.

Your smile grows a little bit bigger at his threat. Not because you think he wouldn't do it, but because you know there is no way he would ever need to do it. You're not going anywhere.

Your fingers linger with his, holding on for a few seconds extra as he gets up. While the conversations go on, your concentration keeps flicking to Kookie. Watching every now and then to make sure he hasn't left your sight either.

On one momentary glance, you catch sight of some random woman standing too close to him. They're at the bar, and it's quite crowded so it could be nothing, but she doesn't look like she is ordering drinks. She's completely facing him. Talking to him.

Slowly your frustration starts to build as a few minutes pass and they stay in the same position. You don't know who she is, you've never seen her before. Jungkook's body language expresses that he doesn't know her as well. She, however, is acting way too familiar. Laughing, smiling, flicking her hair and pushing her chest out like some kind of desperate slut.

You're trying to let it pass. But after only about 10 minutes of silent stewing, that's all you can tolerate. You know your Kookie has no interest in any other girls. He's just too innocent to realize that this girl is flirting with him. That, or he is only trying to be polite.

She crosses the line though when she decides to put her hand on his arm.

He might have told you to stay in your seat, and you know he is going to at the very least slap you for willingly going against his rules, but you have had enough and you're not going to allow this bitch to paw all over him anymore.

Shuffling out of the booth, you take heavy, furious steps towards them. The second you're in reach you draw against Jungkooks side, wrapping your arm around his. At the same time, you roughly and forcefully shove the heel of your palm into this girls shoulder, knocking her back and off of him. She stumbles looking shocked and fleetingly frightened. You're not done sending a message yet.

"The next part of you that tries to touch him is going to get stabbed!" You growl. Jungkook leans back a little to look at you. A mix of intrigue and surprise coming together to form a smirk on his face. It's not just from the forceful action you made, but also the confident, ruthless way you spoke to intimidate her.

This woman is dumb though. She either doesn't see or doesn't understand how sincerely you made that threat. "Wow," she scoffs. Yelling, trying to be louder than the music, "Is this your girlfriend? She's a psycho." she mocks, stepping forward, speaking directly to Jungkook. You pull yourself in front of him, dragging his hand around your waist to wrap on your hip, your fingers lacing over the top of his. Even with you standing between them, eyes burning with hostility she still doesn't back down. "If you want a cool girlfriend, you can come home with me, baby." She propositions him, with the cherry on top of calling him baby. Calling your Kookie baby! Who the fuck does this bitch think she is?!

You snap forward and slam your curled up fist into her face as hard as you can. She mustn't have been expecting that at all because she falls like a ton of bricks. Knocking into two or three other people behind her before she ultimately falls on to the floor.

Honestly, you've never hit someone before, and you didn't realize it would hurt so much. So you have to quickly shake your hand feeling the bones bruised and jarred. You regain your composure by the time she can gain hers and looks back up to you. You step over the top of her getting into her personal space. "Go find someone else to be a pathetic whore with." You snap. "He's mine!"

She scrambles out from under you and back to her feet, sensibly darting away. Over your shoulder, you can see Jungkook taking control of the consequences of your interaction, assuaging the bartender's concerns. JK knows them all, so if they know that it's him, they're not going to make a fuss over it, they'll just let it go and assume there was a good reason.

You latch onto him again as he focuses back on you. Grabbing your hands into his shirt, you hold him closer. "Don't let other girls touch you."  You whine, taking the aggression out of your voice when you talk with him, but not the seriousness.

"Why? Because I'm yours?" He looks down with a smug smile, and a salacious glimmer in his gaze. His tongue running over the inside of his cheek.

You're still so pent up and frustrated, you just want to be as close to him as you can be for comfort. You press your whole body flat to him, feeling warmed by the firm shape of his arms and chest. "Yes, you're mine."

He insists on a small amount of space between you two, gripping onto your upper arms harshly he pushes you back. His free hand comes up and his fingers cling into your jaw keeping you still.

This is it. You knew he was going to hurt you for disobeying. But honestly, it was worth it to keep her off of him.

Looking down at you so intensely, he isn't reacting the way you had expected. His eyes are instead filled with an infatuated allure that's making your stomach tingle and your cheeks feel warm. He rests his mouth next to your ear like he had earlier. "That was so fucking hot Kitten." His teeth nip at your ear lobe, making you shiver. "We're leaving. Just wait until I get you alone. I'm gonna prove I'm yours."   

#bts #yandere bts #yandere #bts fanfic #bangtan #bts smut #yandere bangtan #yandere jungkook #bts reactions #bts requests #jungkook

[lisatelramor]

So back in June I wrote a bunch of story snippets in hope of breaking my writer’s block. Didn’t really stop the block (ongoing T__T) but I’m going to post a few short things this month with soulmate themes.

Well, This is Awkward

Hei-Shin – 43. The name of your soulmate appears on your skin after you meet them.

Shinichi was having a bad day. First he had a cold, then he got yelled at for checking in with Ran, third, he was still stuck as a kid, and now there was someone shouting in the Mouri detective office. A client?

He kind of hoped not because he had the edge of a sinus headache already.

He skipped up the stairs just in time to hear whoever the hell this was with the Osakan accent yell, “Bring out Kudo Shinichi!”

Shinichi froze in the doorway. Then, in terrible timing, he sneezed. His eyes met the stranger’s. A feeling he’d only read described shot down his forearm. He winced at it felt like pins and needles across his skin. The stranger jerked, and Shinichi was vaguely aware of Ran saying…something…as the teenager’s hand moved to his arm, mirroring the feeling Shinichi had.

Oh.

Fuck.

The stranger glanced down at his forearm, tugging back the sleeve on his coat. Did a double-take.

Shinichi barely registered Ran wiping his nose like she was his mother because he knew what was written there and it sure wouldn’t be Edogawa Conan.

“Kudo has a cold, you say?” the stranger said with an edge to his voice, pinning Shinichi with his gaze. Shinichi’s arm burned and he wanted to look, but Ran was right there. “I thought ya didn’t know where he was.”

“He called earlier all stuffed up,” Ran said in her ‘you’re pissing me off and soon karate is going to be involved’ voice that Shinichi knew to heed, but this guy didn’t seem to notice at all.

“He called here.”

“Yeah, he calls from wherever he is! Do you have a problem with that or something?” Ran said, a hair away from snapping—how much had this person been grilling her before Shinichi came home?!

“Did he ask about you?”

“Excuse me?”

“If he takes the time to call when no one else seems ta know where he is, he must care. So does he ask about you? Yer life?”

Ran blinked. “Oh. No, he usually just talks about his life or asks about people back home…”

Shinichi felt blood draining from his face as that stare dragged over him again. “Hm. Kinda weird, doncha think? Wouldn’t he want to know how yer doing since he cares so much ta call? It’s almost like… he’s watching you.”

Shit. He definitely knew. Well, of course he did, you didn’t need to be a detective to figure out who was your soulmate when a bond-mark showed up. Shinichi was going to have to move to America after all wasn’t he? The Black Org wouldn’t even get a chance to get their hands on him because Ran was going to kill him.

“What?!” Ran and Mouri said at the same time.

“Or maybe he just has a set of eyes on ya,” the stranger said. “Oh, I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Hattori Heiji, high school detective.” The mark that had to be on Shinichi’s arm tingled. Shit shit shit. “And actually, I think I need ta have a talk with this kiddo.”

“With Conan-kun? But—”

Shinichi sneezed because even the world ending in front of him apparently didn’t mean anything to his infected, stunted body. Why was his luck so bad these days??

“Oh, I have something that’ll help with that too.” Hattori Heiji grabbed his bag and scooped Shinichi under the stomach with his other arm, ignoring Shinichi’s yelp and flail. “Just a sec.” He stepped out of the office and shut the door behind them, leaving behind a no-doubt baffled Mouri and Ran. “Don’t try to run,” he said, calmly going down the stairs and around back to the trash bins.

Shinichi hung like a limp sack of rags feeling his dignity evaporate by the second. With a resignation, he rolled up his sleeve. Yup. Hattori Heiji printed neatly on it. Fuck.

Hattori sat on a bin and plunked Shinichi next to him. “So. ‘Conan.’ Ya gonna tell me what the hell is going on or am I gonna have to pry it out’ve ya?” He tapped his arm where Kudo Shinichi was clear as day and gave a meaningful look at his own name on Shinichi’s arm.

“I can explain,” Shinichi said.

“Good. Talk fast.” He pulled out a bottle from his bag. A bottle of alcohol. “And here, have a drink.”

“Are you trying to get me drunk so I talk?”

“Nah, it’s a folk remedy for colds.” Hattori grinned and for the first time Shinichi started to wonder what he was like beyond the fact that he’d just barged into his life yelling. Because shit, this was actually his soulmate, huh? Never in a million years would he have imagined this being how he met them. “But being a bit drunk doesn’t hurt.”

You know what, Shinichi was going to need this drink wasn’t he? “…just pass that bottle here, I don’t know what this body’s alcohol tolerance is yet.”

#fanfiction #detective conan #heishin #soulmates #snippets of fic #my writing

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Heloise's 3.5k Followers Sleepover [Closed!] and Writing Challenge [Closed!]

Hello my lovelies <3

On Wednesday we reached another milestone once again! I can’t tell you how happy I am to know that so many of you have been enjoying my writing. All the support I’ve gotten from my followers has been beyond my expectations and I’m just so very grateful. I never imagined getting 50 let alone 3500 followers. Mind blowing really! I wanted to do something fun for such a huge milestone and as it’s a writing blog, I thought, let’s write. I want the writers to enjoy writing and the readers to enjoy reading. However, on the other hand, I didn’t want to leave out my non-writer followers so a sleepover should be in place as well.

Therefore, welcome to⁠—

Heloise’s 3.5k followers Sleepover and Writing Challenge

Part 1. Sleepover [Closed!] (Please click on the link above!)

Part 2. Writing Challenge [Closed!] (See below the Keep Reading option!)

Let's have fun and send your Ask! ^^

Heloise's Map | Masterlists

Heloise’s 3.5k Followers Writing Challenge Masterlist

Part 2. Writing Challenge!

Disclaimer! I do not own any of the prompts listed below, they all belong to @screnwriter and @dreamy-prose and each prompt list I have used for creating this event are listed at the bottom of the post. [Numbers] next to prompts refer to the prompt lists you can find them at.

Rules!

➵ You don’t have to follow me to participate, although it would be much appreciated. ➵ Chose as many prompts as you’d like. No limits. ➵ Write for any universe and any pairings, I basically read everything. ➵ No incest, racial, religious, or sexual hate openly, not related to the story line, but to hurt others. If you have any of the above in your fic, I will not reblog it. ➵ Fluff, angst, smut, anything goes, just please use appropriate Warnings!  ➵ Use the Keep reading option above 500 words. Tutorial from phone is Here! ➵ No deadline for submission, but deadline for entry closes on 27 September 2021. Clarification: You can submit your fics even next year if you wish. End date is only for entering the event. I will not be able to accept entries after 27 September 2021. ➵ If you would like to participate, just send me an Ask with the prompt(s) and character and Reblog this post. ➵ Please use the tag #heloises3.5kcelebration and tag my name @heloisedaphnebrightmore when you post your fic. If it's not reblogged in 48 hours, please send me an Ask or DM. My tags seem to be funny at times. ➵ And most importantly, Have fun! :)

I decided to use both Scenario prompts and Dialogue prompts to take on a different approach compared to my last writing challenge.

Scenario prompts

Enemies to lovers / Tension prompts

1. “I’ll kiss you right now to prove that I don’t feel anything for you.” “Okay.” The two characters kiss, and whoops they felt something, followed by lingering, as they’re catching their breath, trying to make sense of what just happened, and the feelings rushing through them, and then there’s this urge to dive back in for another kiss. [5]

@goddessofdawns (x) Loki Laufeyson x Reader

2. Your enemy has never let anyone touch their scar, until you come along. [7]

@natashxromanovf (x) Bucky Barnes x Reader

3. Character A and B kiss each other to prove there's nothing going on between them, but they get so caught up in each other, they prove the exact opposite. [2]

@wearywinchester (x) Dean Winchester x Reader

4. For one night, Character A and B give into temptation and sleep with each other, hoping it will solve the tension building between them. It does the opposite. [2]

5. Character A and B avoid each other after sharing an intimate moment, be it a kiss, a hug, holding hands, or just looking at each other's lips longer than appropriate. [1]

@wearywinchester (x) Dean Winchester x Reader

6. You're upset one night, and you don't know where to go, so you end up at your enemy's house, and as they open the door, you stay silent for a second, before saying “I don't know where else to go.” Your enemy doesn't say anything, instead they pull you into their arms, giving you a shoulder to cry on. [1]

@goddessofdawns (x) Bucky Barnes x Reader

7. The best friends to lovers “Let’s just kiss to see what it’s like.” They kiss, followed by the characters pulling away, eyes still closed, forehead against forehead, lingering… and then they go in for the second kiss. [5]

@goddessofdawns (x) Newt (Maze Runner) x Reader

8. You threaten your enemy, and when they close the distance between you, you realize how attracted you truly are to them. [1]

9. Pinning your enemy against the wall. Or straddling your enemy’s hips whilst they pin your arms above your head. [1]

@theravenclawgal (x) Sirius Black x Reader

10. You end up on your enemy's lap, and you yank the belt from their pants “Let's just get this over with.” [1]

11. You're about to leave the room, but your enemy slams the door shut, and with one hand on either side of your head, barricade you against the wall... (cue the reckless make-out session). [2]

@band--psycho (x) James Potter x Reader

12. You’re sharing a bed with your enemy and being told “Stay on your side or I'll set this whole bed on fire”. Only to wake up the next day with your enemy's arms wrapped around you. [2]

@forever-and-more (x) Lorcan Salvaterre (Throne of Glass) x Reader

13. Your enemy has been badly wounded, and somebody needs to bandage them up, so you agree to help them, and suddenly they're shirtless, and you can't help but admire their body, something that cheeky bastard takes notice of. [1]

14. You've been wounded, your face is all bruised up. Your enemy puts a finger under your chin, bringing your eyes to theirs, asking “Who did this to you?”. When you don't answer, they ask you again “Who did this to you?”. [1]

@band--psycho (x) Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

@grimdevil (x) Regulus Black x Reader

15. You've just been hurt, you're bleeding out, and your enemy is freaking out, dropping the “I love you. I can't lose you” card, begging you not to close your eyes. [2]

@goddessofdawns (x) Loki Laufeyson x Reader

@forever-and-more (x) Lorcan Salvaterre (Throne of Glass) x Reader

16. Two characters look at each other, a tense silence between them and then bang, lips crash into each other as they can’t resist anymore and then one of them pins the other against the wall. [6]

@forever-and-more (x) Lorcan Salvaterre (Throne of Glass) x Reader

17. You had a really good time on the date tonight, and your date is asking for a good night kiss. It was only meant to be on the cheek, but then you pull back, our eyes meet, and there's a gravitational pull pulling you closer again. [6]

18. You’ve never been kissed before so your friend volunteers, but you decline because you’ve been best friends and it would be weird. But a couple hours later you lay awake in bed and can't stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss them and suddenly you regret what you said. [6]

@queen-of-brokenhearts (x) Hermione Granger x Female!Reader

Intimate / Domestic prompts

19. You are wearing your lover’s clothes when they say, “Can I get my shirt/hoodie back?” and you say “No.” or “Come and get it.”. [4]

@oliverwoodmarrymepls (x) Oliver Wood x Reader

20. You're talking on the phone and your lover quietly comes up behind you, wraps their arms around you, and starts gently kissing your neck. You begin to lose focus on your phone call as you concentrate on not making any noise. [3]

@band--psycho (x) Fred Weasley x Reader

21. You’re supposed to be mad at your lover but they’re holding your face and smiling, and you just can't resist it when they're pouting like that. [6]

22. You and your lover sitting next to each other at a table, and they rest their hand on your thigh, gently rubbing their thumb back and forth. [3]

23. Looking at your crush or lover only to find them already looking at you and when you make eye contact, they smile at you. [3]

@iliveiloveiwrite (x) - Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

24. You think mistletoe kisses are lame, but your love interest brings you under one, regardless of the season and suddenly you're all for it. [6]

25. You and your lover are in bed, when you say, “It’s time to get up.” and your lover pulls you back down, wraps their hands around your body, snuggles up close, preventing you from getting out of bed. [4]

26. Your lover is resting their head on your lap, falling asleep whilst you are playing with their hair. [4]

@oliverwoodmarrymepls (x) Oliver Wood x Reader

@band--psycho (x) Young!Remus Lupin x Reader

27. Having a piece of hair brushed off your face as you're reading or looking down. [3]

28. You're sick, and you can't kiss your lover, and it's an absolute torture. [6]

@msmarvelouswinchester (x) Jensen Ackles or Dean Winchester x Reader

29. Being asked “Are you sure?” (There's nothing sexier than consent) [3]

30. When it’s a slow burn, and the characters just look at each other like “Fuck it, I’m done with this.” and they finally kiss. [4]

@acourtofbooksandfantasy (x) Azriel (ACOTAR) x Reader

Dialogue prompts

Flirty / Sarcastic prompts

1. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I like the sound of your voice, because you don’t seem to ever shut up.” [9]

2. “Is that a challenge?” [9]

3. “You’re cute when you’re nervous.” [15]

@will-be-a-fineline (x) Harry Styles x reader

4. “When have I ever put you in danger? Actually, don't answer that.” [11]

@wearywinchester (x) Dean Winchester x Reader

5. “I dare you.” [9]

6. “If you don’t shut up, I might as well kiss you to put that mouth to good use.” [9]

7. Character A: “Do yourself a favour, get laid.” Character B: “Why, are you offering?” [9]

@grimdevil (x) Draco Malfoy x Reader

@theravenclawgal (x) Sirius Black x Reader

8. Character A: “What if bite you?” Character B: “I’m into that.” [10]

9. Character A is returning a priced procession to Character B and says, “I want something in return.” Character B “What?”  Character A “You.” [2]

10. Character A: “What changed your mind? “ Character B: “You.” [7]

11. Character A: “What do you want?” Character B: “You.” [9]

12. Character A: “Just admit it.” Character B: “Admit what?” Character A: “I’m the best you’ve ever had.” [13]

13. Character A: “You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said, have you?” Character B: “And yet for some reason your mouth just keeps on going.” [8]

@wearywinchester (x) Dean Winchester x Reader

@theravenclawgal (x) Sirius Black x Reader

14. Character A: “I shouldn't have kissed you” “ Character B: You're right. But I should've.” [7]

15. Character A: “Do you flirt with everyone?” Character B: “Unfortunately, you’re the only one who caught my attention.” Character A: “Unfortunately?” [8]

@sexysirius (x) Sirius Black x Reader

16. Character B: “I like to keep my options open.” [8]

17. “I hate you. Oh, I hate you so much right now.” [11]

18. “Jesus Christ, you're annoying.” [11]

First kiss / Confession prompts

19. Character A: “Come over here.” Character B: “Why?” Character A: “You said you’ve never been kissed before. I’m planning on changing that.” [10]

20. Character A: “Just… don’t make this weird, all right?” Character B: “Meaning what?” Character A: “Meaning, don’t treat me like I haven’t been kissed before.” Character B: “But you… haven’t been kissed before.” Character A: “Look, I just want this over and done with, okay. I don’t want to be treated like a delicate flower. Kiss me like you mean it.” [10]

@band--psycho (x) Damon Salvatore x Reader

21. Character A: “I love you.” Character B: “I know.” Character A: “You knew?” Character B: “You haven’t exactly been discreet.” [15]

@band--psycho (x) Natasha Romanoff x Reader

22. “Listen, I know you’re busy, but… it’s important.” [15]

23. “I love you, and I don’t care if you don’t love me back. I just need you to know that I do.” [15]

24. Character A: “Do you have feelings for me?” Character B: “What?” Character A: “Do you have feelings for me?” [14]

25. “Is that truly, all it is? Just, two friends, hanging out?” [14]

@pregnant-piggy (x) Sirius Black x Reader

26. “I need to ask you something and I don’t want you to brush off the subject or turn it into a joke… I need you to be honest with me.” [14]

@grimdevil (x) Young!Sirius Black

27. “Are you… are you in love with me?” [14]

28. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” [14]

29. “All this time I thought you didn’t want me.” [14]

30. “If there’s something you want to tell me, now’s the time.” [14]

@wearywinchester (x) Dean Winchester x Reader

31. “There’s nothing going on between me and Character C. because the person I want to be with is standing right in front of me.” [14]

32. Character A: “I want this to work. I really do.” Character B: “Then we’re on the same page.” [16]

33. “I’ve missed you so much. I didn’t even think it was possible to miss someone this much.” [16]

34. “I know we're not together, but I might die today so I'm going to kiss you just in case there is no later.” [6]

Reassurance / Sweet prompts

35. “You could stay here, tonight. For as long as you'd like.” [7]

@oliverwoodmarrymepls (x) Oliver Wood x Reader

36. “Could you ever love someone like me?” [7]

37. Character A: “I've never been in love before.” Character B: “Then let me show you.” [7]

@goddessofdawns (x) Sam Wilson x Reader

38. “I can’t get up. You’re gonna have to carry me.” [11]

@goddessofdawns (x) Sam Wilson x Reader

39. “Are you okay with me kissing you?” [12]

@deanwanddamons (x) Jensen Ackles x Reader

40. “I feel safe with you. I always have.” [12]

@band--psycho (x) Newt (Maze Runner) x Reader

41. “I need you to know that you can always come to me.” [12]

@iliveiloveiwrite (x) - Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

42. Character A: “You’ll wait for me?” Character B: “For as long as I need to.” [12]

43. “I’ll always be there for you. Don’t you ever doubt that.” [12]

@band--psycho (x) George Weasley x Reader

44. “Don’t hide from me. you’re even more beautiful in the morning.” [13]

@will-be-a-fineline (x) Harry Styles x reader

45. “I’m going to kiss you until you’re sick of it.” [13]

@goddessofdawns (x) Sam Wilson x Reader

46. “Just hold me. I’m not ready to wake up.” [13]

@pregnant-piggy (x) Sirius Black x Reader

If you have any questions, don’t be afraid of sending me a message. My inbox is always open for everyone :)

Prompt lists used from @screnwriter and @dreamy-prose

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16]

#milestone #heloises3.5kcelebration #writing challenge

[blue-pastel-cat]

Xiaobedo Fanfic Recommendation

Welcome to my personal “if you are new to xiaobedo peeps please read these” list. As said before this is my personal list so please feel free to reblog/comment/hit me for not including any gem here. I might miss a lot of them because I am drunk or blind. (mostly have them on my to read and then forgot as I am being assault by real life shit).

I would like to say first that so far there are 150+ Xiaobedo fics on Ao3. I can’t review all of them but I can say that I have read a majority of them. Most of them are just pure love and I would like nothing more than a thousands thank you for all the fic writers who spent their free time writting these gems for us to read for free. But these...these takes the cake as it finds a special landing spot in my heart that I would just thrust them into someone’s hand if they say “I am new to this ship can you recommend me?”

1. Orange dust by bobamilkteas (Wes)

In which Xiao learns to open himself up to the world a little more after the collapse of Rex lapis's contracts but it was not always easy for a soul doomed to eternal damnation. Meanwhile, Albedo liked to tempt fate where the extraordinary are concerned.

If only the traveler's comrades are made of saner bunch.

Comment: Long ago when I like both Albedo and Xiao as a character, I was wondering hmmm....will anyone actually even write about them lmao they never met each other. I am surprise to see this one as the 3rd fic in the whole 3 Xiaobedo fic on Ao3 (yeah back when there’s literally only 3 fic for this couple). I was like I’ll read it for the curiosity, I’ll probably won’t ship them. And that people is how I put my clown make up on my face upon finishing reading it. This ONE fic alone convert me into a devotee of Xiaobedo. Please consider joining me in this circus if you want to know what is Xiaobedo. I would put this as the first of my “Big 3″

Orange Dust also come with its compliation of short stories over the course of the game and a big sequel to it. Please also consider reading ALL OF THEM.

2. Solar Wind by birdpriestess (Sparrow)

For the yaksha, his duty was his life, and his life was his duty. No human could ever hope to understand the eternal war he fought out of sight and in silence.

So why, then, did he feel that Albedo would understand?

---

Finding himself at death's door once more, Xiao is saved by a surprising person, setting off the unlikeliest of adventures.

Comment: Do you like crying? Do you like the feeling of getting your heart ripped into pieces as the author destroy your emotions over the end of each chapter as the story picked up the climax? Yeah, this one is for you masochists. The action, the characterisation, the drama THE EMOTIONS OH WOW. I kid you not that it was so good I read this while workinng when I am not suppose to me. Also, this fic has my favourite characterisation of Gold ever. I love that dramatic queen Mad Alchemist. AND DAIN. I LOVE DAIN IN THIS FIC. Our dearest Sparrow manage to toy with our feelings like how I bully ruin guard for big numbers lmao. This is the secound of “Big 3″ of my Xiaobedo list.

Again, just like Orange Dust, Solar Wind comes with its own compliation of short stories of what came after that. Please also consider reading ALL OF THEM.

3. Castle of Glass by AlchemicalStardust (Morgie) 

A black shadow rises over Huaguang Stone Forest. Caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, Albedo flees the shaking ground and the crash of boulders tumbling form the sky. As the dust settles, Albedo finds a young man – an Adeptus – amidst the carnage. Despite the karmic agony ripping his body from the inside, Xiao’s only question is “How?” How did a human survive after witnessing his battle?

Comment: The last of the “Big 3″ of my Xiaobedo list. And it is still on going! Castle of Glass? More like I AM IN A GLASS CASE OF EMOTIONS! Have you read a fic about 2 people yearning, longing, reaching out for each other so damn well that you just want to throw your phone in the air as they both had their impending doom coming down upon them? Yeah this is one of them. You will like want to be stuck in the moment they express how much they just yearn for each other’s love and care that you want to shake the author for what comes next. Like...everytime Morgie update I am expressing my gratitude at the end of the chapter by writing on Xiaobedo discord “MORGIE COME HERE AND LET ME BONK YOU WHY ARE YOU ENDING IT THERE”

trust me when you read you will def feel the same. With just Big 3 and their compliation alone that would give you like a LONG list of reading already LMAOOOOOOO

4. Find a place to call it home  by yamajiroo 

Our room, he said. Xiao’s brow twitches. Zhongli never said anything about this. But then again, perhaps he should anticipate this from the beginning...

Xiao looks over at Albedo, who is now tilting his head, his look as innocent as ever.

“Are you not okay with sharing a room?”

Comment: College AU for Xiaobedo! One thing that I love this is the slow burn and what made me LOVE LOVE LOVE this fic more is how cute Klee is in this fic. Their relationship in this one is very simple, but that simplicity highlight why their chemistry work. Xiao is someone who was just very gentle, who was largely misunderstood by his lonesome nature. Albedo was someone who like peace and quite in his introvert bubble. And how they respect that bubble that each other has actually made their relationship work. I love it when fic highlight this and this one captures it.

5. I Can't See Your Face From the Other Side of the Classroom by MissWeaver  

When Albedo and Xiao unexpectedly start eating lunch together, they begin to find that they have more in common than anyone would have realized. They both struggle in their own ways with blossoming feelings, too many assignments, and annoying classmates as they navigate a relationship for the first time.

Comment: I’ll be honest, I usually hate high school au just because its so cliche. I don’t even watch and drama/anime surrounds high school student anymore LMAOOO (unless it’s very good). So if there’s an high school AU that I actually keep come back and read after a couple of chapters, it means that the cliche that I hate wasn’t there or barely was there at all. The pinning in this fic makes me want to bang their head together sometimes LMAOOO The tag wasn’t kidding when they said both Xiao and Albedo are bad at feelings. Also that’s a lot of heart broken caused by these two idiots XD

6. new world, same me, same bullshit  by  bobamilkteas (Wes)

At the belly of Dragonspine, Albedo lost control to the festering corruption that permeated his senses and watched, from the recesses of his mind, as his devoured body turned his allies into enemies. Before his rampage reached its climax, he is sealed in a crystalized confinement by the last hand of Reindottir, where he then reawakens centuries after, in a rebooted Teyvat.

Comment: Yeah I know it was list in Orange Dust but here me out. This sets out in an entirely different universe. And if you like Polyamory, this one has Zhongli joining the duo and I love it because I also love ZhongXiao with my life. Time Travel is my biggest kink. Especially when I am the person who love it when people explore Archon War era/ Alatus!Xiao. So this one hits double of my kink. Of course it is still on going and I will bully Wes whenever I can to see that new chapter. Albedo is a total fucking badass in this story and I completely agree from using him in Abyss so often. Everyone should write badass Albedo.

7. misplaced heart of mine by  inkburn           

“If you are ill, then you should be resting at home. In Mondstadt.” He emphasized Mondstadt with a pointed look in his direction.

“I assure you I won’t be troublesome, Adeptus Xiao,” Albedo said, “You’ll find I’m a rather low-maintenance traveler.”

“Travel,” Xiao scoffed, “without airstep?”

Albedo looked him up and down. “Are your legs just for decoration?”

(albedo is sent to liyue on mandatory vacation. xiao is his unfortunate bodyguard.)

Comment: Most of the time you will see Albedo and Xiao starting their relationship with one of them taking interest in another. But this one took another approach, they starting off by make them hating each other’s guts LMAOOOO and I live for every second of it. There’s only 1 chapter so far but wow it was SOOO GOOD. I am really really excited for next chapter and is waiting patiently ;w;

8.  Blossom of Grace  by birdpriestess  

One day in Liyue Harbor, Albedo watches a street performance by an enigmatic dancer named Xiao. And he becomes completely obsessed.

Comment: Have you ever look at Xiao fight and thinking that he’s one of the most beautiful deadly thing ever? How it was like he was dancing around the battlefield? How about actual dancer Xiao being so absolutely beautiful and perfect and that slow burn of Albedo falling in love with that beauty with a touch of Modern AU and cute Ganyu as the Wing woman. Yes, Sparrow delivers yet again another beautiful slow burn and while it’s still ongoing it is worth the read.

9. i think we could make this work (could get used to this) by outspaced               

“Xiao? What are you doing out here?”

“I—”

“It’s raining,” Albedo says, as if it isn’t obvious. “You could get struck by lightning.”

“What are you doing out here then?” Xiao does the only thing he knows how to do, he challenges Albedo. “It’s raining.”

Albedo just hums. “If I get struck by lightning, it’s for science.”

Comment: A short one-shot where I read the summary and went “This is it... this is their relationship.” I am sold immediately. Oh god Albedo why are you like this.

10. Ephemeral by criedprinz        

“It’s not for your investigation, is it?” Aether asked mildly.

Albedo traced a finger around the sketchbook, considering the question. “No,” he admitted finally. “I... I just want to see them again.”

He opened the sketchbook to reveal the drawing he’d just finished. Aether nodded, clearly recognizing the sharp golden eyes.

“Xiao,” he said. “You were rescued by an adeptus.”

When a visit to Dragonspine goes horribly wrong, Albedo is rescued by an unknown stranger, wielding powers he's never heard of. Led on a search to find out who it is, he finds himself in the middle of an unforgettable encounter..

Comment: A really really well written one-shot that I love. The yearning oh godddd the yearning from Albedo side is just so so much that I have to put it here. (I think you can see the trend here lmao. I am a sucker for yearning). And the moment they get to meet each other again is just chef kiss. MWHAA

11. Idle Yaksha, Brilliant Yaksha by Pit0fTheEarth

Alatus didn’t have a lot of responsibilities to keep. He spent most of his days dancing across the sky and eating away all nightmares that plagued a person’s sleep.

But one fortunate encounter led to too many unfortunate ones, taking his carefree existence and plunging it in darkness. His wings, stripped from him. His gentle touch, replaced by an unforgiving grip of destruction.

There was a lot of blood on his hands. With each passing moment, it became harder for Alatus to recall the last time someone gently held him.

Comment: This is one of the ongoing fic where I am very very much excited on the take of Naberius. And the way the author portray Xiao when he’s still the innocent Alatus is just *clench fist*. Baby ;w; Baby why do you have to lose all that innocence. Also the fic has long LONG flashback to Xiao past and his relationship with Naberius. We are unwielding more what happened to both of them and why perhaps does this have to do with Albedo.

That’s it for now, might add more later! Thank you <3

#xiaobedo #tetsu likes to ramble #genshin impact

[missymurphy1985]

The Writer (part4)

Warnings - Angst

Request? Yep

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton

You woke alone - checking the clock on the dressing table you darted out of bed. 6:45am, Tommy said his driver would be taking you home at 7. You rushed as quickly as your sore thighs would allow you back to your bedroom so no one spotted you run across the landing completely naked.

Pulling your clothes on, gathering your notepads and stuffing them in the small bag you had brought, you turned and nearly jumped out of your skin as a young woman of maybe 22/23 stood in the doorway. You vaguely recognised her as one of the maids who made your tea the night before. She had a strange look in her eyes that made you feel uneasy.

"I believe Mr Shelby has arranged a car for me this morning?" You asked, ignoring her gaze.

"He has. It's outside. He gave me this to pass onto you." She smiled wryly, handing you the envelope. You thanked her, and left the room heading down to the waiting car.

You opened the envelope once you were en route. Two £1 notes fell out, alongside a letter. Your heart froze in your chest as you read it, feeling like a complete fool.

Ms. Y/L/N,

Since you enjoyed being treated as a two-bob whore, I suppose it's only fitting I pay you for your services.

The article can proceed, but I'd prefer if someone with more professionalism could attend next time.

Yours,

T. Shelby

The tears were falling from your eyes as you pulled up outside your apartment. How could you have been so stupid... A millionaire like him shacking up with you? A penniless widow with more debt than you cared to admit to.. trying to make a name for yourself in a man's world. He clearly thought you were nothing more than a whore. You left the money on the back seat and exited the car, your heart shattered as you unlocked your door and stepped inside.

************************************************************

"So how did it go?" David asked as you sat opposite him in his office an hour later.

"Honestly? The interview was difficult. He wouldn't reveal much about himself."

"Laura said you didn't come home last night." Laura was your roommate, she was also dating David. You should have known she'd tell him. He raised an eyebrow at you, smirking.

"The storm." You voice caught in your throat, emotions threatening to spill over. David quickly stood and closed the office door, kneeling in front of you.

"What happened Y/n? Come on, don't cry..." You fell into your big brother's arms and you let yourself cry. The only man you allowed to see you like this. You told him about the night before, in not as much detail, and then the note this morning.

"Fucking asshole... I never should have sent you to him!! This is all my fault... Oh sis I'm so fucking sorry, come here...." He held you tight. "Go home. Run a bath. I'll send Laura over with a bottle of wine. Just get him out of your head. God I sent you right into his filthy little hands didn't I..."

"David this isn't your fault. I wanted it as much as he did okay? He was just so different last night.. he asked me to stay, he put me into his bed, he held me.. then that note. And the money.. the fucking money?! Like a fucking whore!"

"Y/n go home. That's an order. You're not to go back again. I'll send Frank, he can do the article."

"No you won't! This is MY story and I will be the one to tell it! That halfwit doesn't even know which end of the pen to use!"

"He's already demanded someone else, you saw it for yourself. Now go home, I'll let Laura know you're on your way."

************************************************************

It was a week later that you finally felt strong enough to leave the house. Your confidence at an all time low, your heart completely broken, but your cupboards were empty as your soul felt and Laura was away for a few days with family back in Scotland. You had no choice but to face it and go to the store in the next town. Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you took a deep breath and headed out.

Waiting in line, you felt a tap on your shoulder. A dark haired woman with hard but kind eyes stood behind you.

"Are you Y/n?" She asked. You nodded, before quickly realising who she was.

"Polly Gray?" You gasped, and she nodded, pulling you into a huge hug.

"Oh y/n... It's been so long!! My goodness how you've grown!!!" You hugged her back, she'd always been so kind to you as a child knocking about with John. She was the only member of the family that knew you were close to him.

"Come for a drink! The Garrison is only down the street!" She grinned, as you paid for your groceries. You were about to answer before she linked arms with you and was almost frog marching you down the road. To be honest, you didn't mind. She clearly didn't know about your liaison with her nephew a week earlier, and a drink sounded very appealing.

Sitting in the small side room as she went to the bar, you felt yourself relax. She doesn't know, you won't tell her, it's one drink, no harm done.

"Perks of Arthur owning the pub - Peaky women get served at the bar without question!" She grinned, placing a bottle of whiskey and two glasses on the table in front of you. So much of one drink....

You both knocked the first one back quickly, before sipping your second a little slower. She enquired about your life up to now, squeezing your hand gently as you told her about Jack and his death. She smiled as you told her about your work, confessing to her your pen name in the Herald which made her howl with laughter.

"They're always my favourite articles in that newspaper!! I always felt they had a woman's touch to them, so well written! If only you could use your own name eh? Bloody men, ruin everything for us women."

"Yes. Yes they do." You eyes glanced out the window and she noticed them misting up slightly.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Oh nothing, nothing, I'm fine. Just being silly."

"There's a man, isn't there? A new man?"

"Pol..."

"And he's hurt you, hasn't he? I'll rip his balls off... Let me guess, fucked you and fucked you off?"

"Pol, it's fine honestly."

"Your eyes tell me it's not fine y/n."

"It was a silly, drunken mistake. On both parts. It won't happen again."

"No one hurts my y/n and gets away with it. Name." Her voice was forceful now. She was angry, you could see it in her eyes.

"Polly please! It was a one night thing that shouldn't have happened in the first place! Just let it go, okay?"

"Y/n, when my daughter was taken away, you were closest thing I had left. I was heartbroken when you moved away. I can't allow some nasty little shit to break your heart after what you've been through!"

Your resolve was breaking, your patience was being tested, and your emotions were about to spill over, when the door to the room opened and your heart stopped.

"Tommy!!! Look who I found in the store down the street!" Polly exclaimed, and his blue eyes met your watery ones. He smiled, you scowled. Polly looked between the two of you, and you could honestly have heard a pin drop. You gathered your shopping up and stood up, still glaring at Tommy who never took his eyes from yours. You scoffed at him, thanked Polly for the drink, and hurried out the room.

"Oh Thomas... Thomas Shelby you have some fucking explaining to do!" You heard Polly shout from behind you but you didn't stick around to hear anymore.

#tommy shelby x smut #tommy x y/n #cillian x fem!reader #cillian smut #cillian murphy x smut #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader

[rowanaelinn]

Fire on Fire - chapter four

chapter three // chapter five

Aelin slammed her car door harder than necessary, sighing once she was comfortably sitting in her seat. She buckled her seatbelt and turned her head to the man sitting next to her in the passenger seat. "I'm not going to buckle your seatbelt for you, you're an adult, not a child."

Arobynn just chuckled and did it himself. “Always a delight to deal with you, darling.”

Aelin had to take a deep breath or she would snap. Getting mad at him wouldn’t work, it never did. It would just make him mad at her, and it wasn’t worth it. “Call someone else next time, then.” She said as she started driving. Aelin wished she had drunk a coffee before or taken anything that could help her stay awake. Arobynn lived one hour away from this bar, the night was going to be very long. “I forgot, you have no one else.”

“Be careful how you speak to me, Aelin.” His words were harsh even if they were slurred by the alcohol. Aelin hated the part of herself that was scared at his threat. So she didn’t answer, focused on the road, and put on some music to try to distract herself.

Aelin thought about last night, how bad her night of work was until she danced with Elide. Aelin had always loved to dance, she remembered all the times she forced her parents to sit for an hour so she could show them everything she learned that week at the dance studio.

When she turned eight, Aelin started doing dance competitions and she was good, very good, actually. She went to nationals twice, the first time she ended up in fourth place, not good enough. The second time she was in second place, it was better but still not good enough. Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was born with the need to be the best at everything she did, she didn’t understand why. Maybe it was because her parents had always been first in their own way and Aelin wanted to be like them.

After an injury at fifteen, she had to stop dancing. She still remembered crying in Aedion’s arms for an entire night. If Aelin thought about it, she would realize that’s the moment everything started to go downhill in her life. But she tried to avoid thinking about it, if she didn’t think about the problems, they didn’t exist.

“Why are you dressed like a whore, anyway?” Arobynn broke the silence and Aelin’s heart clenched. She hadn’t been hurt when Rowan made comments on her outfit because as much as she hated him, she knew he respected women and just wanted to hurt her. Arobynn never had an ounce of respect for women, he had proven it multiple times, that’s what made his comment horrible. “Not that I’m complaining in any way.” Aelin’s eyes left the road for two seconds to see him with a disgusting smile on his lips and his eyes fixed on her thighs. It took all her self-control not to vomit right there.

“I was working,” she simply said. She didn’t have to justify herself but Arobynn didn’t like to be ignored.

“You work at a strip club now?” He snorted. “Why do you even want to work? I told you I could pay for everything you need.”

He did, and it had been generous. Too generous from Arobynn to come without a price. “And I told you I could do it on my own.”

“Well, you don’t seem to earn a lot of money wherever you work since I’m still the one paying for your college tuition.” He said with a light tone but Aelin caught what he really meant. You’re only here thanks to me, be grateful.

“How many times do I have to thank you for it?” She asked with a sharp tone. Aelin had never been very good at staying calm. “I told you I would pay you back-”

“Bullshit,” he tapped his foot on the floor of the car, almost screaming. Unusual for him to lose his temper. When Arobynn was mad he favored hurting people with words. It was very rare for him to be physically violent. She jumped in spite of herself. “Do I look like I care about the money?” No, of course not. The money he used to pay for her college was like pocket money for a ten-year-old child, he didn’t see the difference in his bank account before and after paying for it. “I don’t understand why you want to work and live in a shitty apartment when you could be cared for and live in a manor.”

“ Your manor.” She said coldly.

“Yes, mine. How is that a problem?” He was angry, Aelin could see it at the way his hands clenched on his tights, the way his right leg kept fidgeting, or at the way he pronounced every word that came out of his mouth as if they were full of venom.

“You are my professor, Arobynn. I am your fucking student and not only this but I am also your teaching assistant. Do I really need to explain how wrong it is?”

“I am trying to take care of you, Aelin. I would expect you to be nicer.”

“Right now I am the one taking care of you!” She screamed, done with his bullshit. If someone had told Aelin five years ago that her favorite author was like this, she wouldn’t have believed them. “Even if I don’t want to.”

“I’m waiting for the day you crawl for my help, Aelin.”

She didn’t answer, instead, she kept her eyes on the road. She thought about her favorite books and how happy they made her. Maybe she would read one when she gets back home, it was too late to sleep anyway. Twenty minutes later, she parked her car right in front of his house. It was big, too big for a single man.

Aelin looked at her professor as he unbuckled his belt. “Have you graded the papers we gave you last month? Students will need them this week.” She asked but knew the answer. He just smirked at her and winked.

“You know me better than this, sweetheart.”

Aelin sighed and got out of her car, following Arobynn. He wasn’t walking straight and somewhere in the back of her mind she hoped he wouldn’t get hurt. Aelin knew Arobynn wasn’t a good man, he was a real piece of shit. But he had been there for her when she was at her worst, he didn’t do a lot but he had been there. He gave her opportunities she would never have had alone. And even if his interest in her was bad, he believed in her. He read every single one of her stories, gave her advice to become the best writer she could be. He let her access his contacts. If she ever made it on the best-seller list, it would be a little bit thanks to this man.

He opened his door and Aelin didn’t wait before going to his study, not caring about what he did. She quickly found the folder full of papers. She went through all of them and left hers and Lysandra’s on Arobynn’s desk. She couldn’t grade them, even if she wished she could grade Lysandra’s, but Arobynn didn’t want her to play favorites.

She turned but found Arobynn watching her at the entrance of the study. He had a glass of whiskey in his hand, of course, he would start drinking again the minute he got home. He walked towards her and she was struck by the size difference between the two of them. He pinned her with this lover’s gaze. She looked at the face she once found beautiful and swallowed. She wanted to move but couldn’t.

“What would I do without you, sweet Aelin?” He purred, letting one of his knuckles caress her cheek and before he could brush her lips she turned her head to the side. This gave him just more room to lean in and place a kiss on her cheekbone, his lips were soft and warm. Slowly, Aelin pulled back. “Tell me what I have to do for you to let me lay the world at your feet.”

Aelin said nothing as she walked away from him.

-

The moment Aelin entered her bathroom she fell on her knees and threw her guts up in the toilet. She could still feel Arobynn’s hand brushing her thigh in the car, could still feel his eyes on her or his hot breath on her ear.

When she closed her eyes she could remember the first time she saw these grey eyes four years ago and how different it felt to have them on her.

Aelin couldn’t hear the music over her friends’ laugh and her own.

When a waiter passed her she took the opportunity to take another glass of champagne and give him her empty glass. Her head was already spinning in the most delicious way.

"Ten bucks says he goes back with him tonight," Nehemia said, her eyes fixed on Aedion and the handsome blond man he was talking to. They were at a charity event, Aelin had agreed to accompany her parents only if she could bring her friends. Her three friends practically lived at home, so they agreed.

“Ten bucks?” Aelin asked as she took a sip of her drink. “How boring you are. Five hundred says they make out in a cupboard here.”

“You’re the only rich girl here, you know that?” Sam asked as he took her under his arm, forcing her head to rest on his chest. Aelin laughed loudly as she pushed him away, trying not to spill her drink on either of them.

“You are so loud, Aelin,” Lysandra complained but she wasn’t better. If anyone drank as much as Aelin did it was her best friend.

“I think our little Aelin,” Sam said, his voice full of fake seriousness, as he took her head in both hands, Aelin giggled at his fake frown. “Is slightly drunk.” Sam finished, and before Aelin could say anything he bent to kiss her. She lost herself in him, putting her arms around his neck. After a few seconds, they pulled apart but Aelin rested her head in his neck, breathing deeply in his lavender scent. She would kick his ass later for using her soap.

“Fireheart?” Aelin heard her mother call, she turned around but tripped on her long dress. Sam caught her before she could fall and the group of four friends exploded with laughter. They had all had a little too much to drink if they needed so little to laugh.

Aelin hid her glass behind her back, remembering that her parents had forbidden her to drink. They didn’t want their sixteen years old daughter to be seen doing inappropriate things. Sam took the glass discreetly and she knew he would get rid of it as soon as possible. Aelin's parents would never suspect Aelin's perfect boyfriend of helping her disobey her parents.

What her parents didn't know was that her three friends were her partners in crime, especially Sam.

“Aelin, honey.” Her mother said as she stopped in front of her. Sam’s hand rested quietly on her hip, a silent reminder that no matter how the conversation turned out, Aelin was not to get upset.

But Evalin was not alone. "My dear, I'm sure you know Mister Hamel?" She asked, knowing full well that Aelin knew him. She had dozens of copies of all his books all over her room, his writing was just amazing.

Aelin turned her head to admire her idol's face. He was handsome, for a thirty-seven years old man. If Aelin was honest, she had always had a thing for men older than her.

When her eyes met his gray ones, Aelin tensed. Absolutely everything about this man screamed power. From the way he stood to the little smile on his face as he held out his hand for Aelin to place hers in. His hand was warm but not soft, she could feel several scars. He placed a kiss on the back of her hand before saying softly, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Galathynius."

The memory of that night made her throw up a second time as she fought against tears. Everything about this memory was painful. She had worked so hard to keep these emotions locked inside of her for years, she couldn’t break now. Not after everything she did to forget.

“You got drunk?” A deep voice asked and Aelin whipped her head toward that voice only to find a shirtless Rowan, arms crossed, watching her from his doorframe. She didn’t secretly marvel at his muscles like she usually did whenever he was shirtless, tonight, another proof of how bad she was feeling. “Is that why you’re so late?” His voice was hard, the same voice he usually used whenever she was around.

“Were you worried?” She asked, sarcastically. She didn’t have the strength to fight now, and yet… She couldn’t help when he was around.

“Your cousin and best friend were worried sick. Are you so selfish that you don’t care?”

“I’ll talk about that with them, then. I don’t need you here.” Her voice was as hard as his, while she usually was more teasing. Aelin saw him frown at her tone but she didn’t give a shit, she needed to be left alone. “But if you want to know, I wasn’t getting drunk, no.”

“Then what were you doing?” He snapped and Aelin didn’t understand him. Why did he want to know that? Shouldn’t he have been happy she wasn’t here? Why did he even come into the bathroom? Aelin supposed he heard her throw up, it’s not like she was a very discreet person. Did he come here just to mock her? “What has put you in such a pathetic state?”

“Get the out,” her voice was weak, trying not to think about one of the worst nights of her life. You look pathetic , Arobynn had told her two years ago. But Aelin couldn’t help it, everything about that night disgusted her. When she looked up at Rowan she thought she saw concern in his eyes but she probably was hallucinating because a second later, his eyes were cold as ice.

He laughed, even if his laugh didn’t have any humor in it. “You know what, Aelin? Keep throwing up all you want. You’re worthless.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

There was a long pause and when Aelin thought he wouldn’t say anything else, he opened his mouth. “I understand why your parents cut you off. Who would want a disappointment like you as their daughter?”

“Don’t ever talk to me again.” She said silently, and when he closed the door, Aelin let the tears run down her face. For the first time in his life, Rowan hurt Aelin.

-----

taglist:

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @surielandiareendgame // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy

#rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin #throne of glass fanfiction #fire on fire #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius

[blackwidow-bby]

Never Be The Same- Mafia!Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Prompt: Mafia Boss au but y/n kidnaps the mafia boss

Warnings: Cursing, violence, gun mention and gun use, kidnapping

AN: I saw this prompt from a tiktok where someone asked "your favorite trope but reverse" so I did it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't often that you got anonymous letters sent to you by someone looking for your "services". You had left the spy life years ago with a little help from the Witness Protection Program in order to pursue a much quieter life doing...well currently you were just working as a florist. Before that you cleaned headstones at the towns local graveyard, which was scarily a lot bigger than the town you were in. You had quit that job when you got the first anonymous letter on the steps of the shed where you kept your tools. The thought of someone knowing where you worked, hell, who you were, especially when they shouldn't spooked you more than working in the graveyard around sunset.

The request wasn't for anything serious. A simple adult-napping job of some woman. The stranger who left the note definitely specified that they wanted the target alive. It would have been an easy job with some extra cash to put in your pocket, but instead you jumped ship and quit that day and moved to another apartment complex. You even went so far as to get a P.O. Box instead of using the complex's mail. The threat wasn't that big to get the government involved in relocating you again.

You almost you wish you could go back in time to the early morning before you received the letter by some covered stranger. Your skin turned white when you saw the simple little envelope with your old agent code name; Viper.

Sneaky and deadly, you always knew the perfect moment to strike. Whoever this person was had to have also been an old agent from the same organization you worked for. That was the only way you could explain away the anxiety that boiled in the pit of your stomach. Once was an instance, but twice is a hobby, you decide you'll at least think about taking the job. Opening the envelope, your heart started to pound quickly inside its cage. You can't believe you were about to put yourself in this position after leaving it for so long.

The letter read:

Dear Viper;

It has been many years since the last time I've seen your face, the first time I thought you were a ghost. Certainly after seeing your face again, I knew for sure my mind wasn't fooling me. It is with a heavy heart that I ask for your help. Unfortunately a family member of mine had found themselves in trouble with a mafia member. Unable to keep their end of whatever bargain, the mob killed him. I need you to find the person who did this to my brother and bring them to me completely unharmed. I want them conscious, I want my face to be the last ting they see before I get revenge for a member of my family ceasing to live among those that loved them.

The target's name is Natasha Romanoff. At the bottom I've left a burner number and an address if you do decide to take my offer this time, the payment will be handsomely.

Much Thanks;

Otter

Natasha Romanoff? Sounds mafia enough to you. Gods, what a messed up situation to get into. Would it really be enough to possibly have to change your identity again? What if this person was important to this group and they decided to come after you? You sat in silence thinking for a long time if any of this was really worth it. There was a tiny voice that peeped up in the back of your mind. You had been kinda bored lately, this could be the spice you need to add back an old pep in your step.

It was decided. You'll get to work searching for this person in the morning. Wow, that took so much persuasion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You got started early the next day. Definitely not due to not being able to sleep in the first place. Oh no. Thanks to the nerves building up over putting yourself in a shitty position. Luckily for you though, this Natasha woman wasn't hard to find at all. The mafia she was affiliated with, operated in the city near the town you lived in. They also apparently seemed to operate most of their business out of a simple pet shop. This has to be the inner workings of a screen writer, you thought to yourself.

Your nerves began to get the best of you on your walk back home. It seemed like everyone's eyes were suddenly on you, like they knew exactly what you were up to. You picked up your speed and released a breath you didn't realize you were holding when you saw the steps to your apartment complex. You quickly ran inside up to your floor and slammed the door behind you. Gosh your nerves were starting to annoy you. How did you ever make it as a top agent is beyond you thinking of the position you were currently in. All feelings aside, you pressured n to pack for the trip you'll soon be taking to the city. It was going to be another long night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your trip to the city was surprisingly smooth. Light traffic. Sun was out. If not for this little mission, if you could call it that, the day would have been perfect to do some sight seeing. You found the "pet shop" just as easy as well. You set up camp on the side of the street in front of the building to see if your target would possibly show up today. You were really hoping this didn't turn into a multi-day stake out. just wanting to get all of this over as quickly as possible so you can go back into hiding again.

It took about 7 hours, well into the late afternoon, before you spotted her walk in. Surprisingly, she was alone. Perfect, time to move in. You got out of your car and casually walked around the side of the business to see if there happened to be a door. The alleyway of the building was dark enough that anyone on the street wouldn't be able to see in. The sound of a creaky metal door could be heard just around the corner. You guess the back will have to do. As you got closer to the sound, you saw the woman in the back of the building talking with a man. You couldn't make out a single word they were saying. Their conversation wasn't important though, only getting her to Otter was.

Your heart began to race as the moment to make your move came closer. This is what you had trained for your whole life. The stealth and ability to make a move without anyone around you knowing until it was too late. Your eyes trained on the red-head in the back of the building. You gave a silent prayer to whoever was listening that the person she was with, would leave her alone for just one second. That's all you needed; one second.

Suddenly, it was as if all of the puzzle pieces fell into place. He left to go back inside. Time slowed down in an instant. You immediately released a breath through your mouth and moved in. You could see every single moment, all of the steps you took right up to behind her. Watching her turn around carefully but never hearing you step up behind her. At the very last second when she had finally caught sight, one hand reached but to grab her arm and pin it behind her back while the other reached around her head with a chloroform rag to incapacitate her.

The hard part was done. The red-haired woman fell limp in your arms, so you maneuvered her into a bridal position to easily carry her to your car. Time was of the essence. Someone would be coming to look for her soon. Swiftly and quietly, you walked back through the alley and reached your car. Knowing you had some time before she woke up, you could stop later to tie her hands and legs once you were farther away from the city. You placed her down in the back seat before getting in the front and driving away. You let out the most dramatic exhale and looked for the letter Otter had given you of his number and location.

One ring

Two rings

So you did take my offer?

Yes, I'm headed to the location now.

Excellent, thank you for your work.

Yeah, whatever.

Click

You drove on for another half an hour before you reached the location. It was an old abandoned warehouse settled 20 minutes in the opposite direction from the city. The sun was completely settled at this point making the surroundings very dark. The sky had an almost purple glow from the towns nearby lights. Getting out, you circled the car to the back passenger door to remove the woman and bring her inside. She was still passed out from the chloroform only stirring slightly as you picked her up.

Maybe it was the exhaustion catching up to you, but you don't remember her being this heavy. Trudging the knocked out woman inside, you found a small chair and placed her down. Your timing was sort of off and thought better to tie down her hands and legs now before checking her pockets for any weapons or forms of identification. The woman's head lulled from left to right while you searched. You found a knife on her belt holster, a small revolver tucked in the back of her pants, a wallet, and a set of keys but not car keys. Her eyes started to flutter while you fingered through the wallet. Nothing important, a drivers license, a couple of business cards from the "pet store", and a what looked like a family photo. The people in the photo looked familiar to you, very familiar.

"What are you doing with that?" The woman mumbled in your direction. You looked her in the eye not saying anything. The woman was gorgeous with the single light shining down on her causing an angelic glow upon the crown of her head. Her red tresses seemed to almost burn in your presence. You looked away from her and continued to inspect the photo she kept in her wallet.

"Who are these people with you?"

Her head lulled once more, "Why do you want to know?"

"Answering a question with a question won't help you. What is your affiliation with the mafia?"

"I'm their fucking boss."

In that instance your eyes widened. Of course, that's why the men in the photo looked familiar to you. She was the fucking heir to one of the top mafia rings in the country. This idiot, Otter, wanted you to bring in the living heir and current head hancho for what she did to a simple family member that got caught up in the wrong group. The sweat was beginning to pour now that you realized you were absolutely fucked.

Before you could say anything else, Otter, the man of the hour, busted trough the doors.

"Viper! I knew I could count on you!"

"What the fuck man?! You really had me capture the fucking mafia BOSS?! We're both going to be fucked if you don't explain everything right now, Otter." You were sweating rivers at this point. Utterly frustrated and hot in the warehouse. The red-head was slowly coming to 100% but her eyes still couldn't fully focus.

"Calm down Viper. Your work is done with me. I'll cover everything up and you can go back to your quiet life."

"Over?! If you don't give me a very good reason to leave her here in your possession, I'm taking her with me." you were shouting at this point. The red-head was now staring at the both of you dumbfounded at the whole situation everyone was in.

"She killed my brother!" You swore you could see steam coming off of his head. "She killed him and left him to rot!"

"Your brother was nothing but scum who tried to steal weapons from me to sell for himself." She had responded this time. Otter quickly pulled out a gun from his pocket and aimed it at the woman.

"He would never have done anything to harm his family or himself!"

She didn't falter her glare one single bit, even with a weapon pointed at her head. "He'd be living a healthy fulfilling life had he not crossed me."

He cocked the gun this time. "Shut up you stupid bitch!"

A smirk played on her lips, she was enjoying getting a rise out of him. Like she knew something the both of you didn't know. Like she knew no matter her outcome someone would always be out there searching for both of you for the rest of your lives until you got caught, or god forbid, kill yourselves to keep from being caught. Your nerves were spiking again, you couldn't let Otter kill Natasha Romanoff.

You sucked a quick gasp. Otter didn't notice but Natasha did. You had her gun.

Natasha's eyes darted back and forth between you and Otter. He was getting upset at the fact that her attention wasn't solely on him. The arm that was holding the gun stopped its falter and held up straight to Natasha's face. "Look at me! I want my face to be the last thing you see when I kill you, you stu-"

BANG

Natasha jumped. She had seen the whole thing take place but didn't really expect you to do it. She could see the tremble in in your hands as they stayed in the same spot. Your eyes were wide, lip quivering, you couldn't believe what you had done and now you had a new problem to cover up. Natasha had a look of empathy in her eyes. You didn't want to be in this position from the get go and it had only gotten worse for you.

"Hey, look at me..." Natasha spoke up softly to break your trance. She had leaned her body towards you in a manner to reach out. "You can put the gun down, its going to be okay now." Your eyes darted down to the gun and back up to Natasha's green eyes. Still shaking you slowly lowered the gun to the ground before you walked over to her cautiously. Tears were falling down your face, the weight of the situation was hitting you. If you had never agreed to Otter's request, you would be cozied up in your bed, awaiting another new day.

Your fingers found Natasha's bound wrists. her skin was surprisingly cool to the touch. She stared at your face the whole time you unwrapped her from the chair. The fresh tears leaving clear trails down your slightly dirtied cheeks. The slight glow of your e/c eyes under the florescent lights of the warehouse. You knelt down in front of her to then remove the binding on her ankles. Something within her compelled her to reach out to you. Without even realizing it, the red-heads palm was already resting on your head. She reveled in the silky smooth feel of your h/c locks. The slight dampness from the sweat that had overcome your skin. She could feel the softness of your fingers slowly circling around her last ankle when your sad eyes looked up to hers.

"How did you manage to capture me without anyone seeing you?" Her hand slipped down to your cheek. "In all of my years, I have not once not heard someone creep up behind me the way you did."

The steady stream of tears grew heavier, your quiet life was about to be destroyed by your own need for a change. She would certainly have your feet for getting a one up on her.

"It was my job. I was known for being so light on my toes, no one could hear me coming." your voice wavered, but the words got out.

"Well I could use someone like you by my side." Natasha held out her hand to you as she got up on her feet. Not really having her ground, she nearly fell when you caught her by the waist. The two of you held your breath as you both stared deeply into each others eyes. You could swear if you inhaled, her scent would be enough to drive you mad. "My guys will cover all of this up for you."

You sat and thought about everything she said. The would would probably prove more exciting than working at a flower shop and probably be more fruitful. You smiled at her. You could feel her warm breath near your lips.

"When do I start?"

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #x reader insert #marvel #black widow x reader #mafia!Natasha romanoff #prompt fic

[smoochkooks]

—chapter one: the beginning of an end

this is a part of my an ode to a broken heart drabble series.

pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

genre: unrequited love, best friends to (?), heavy angst, future smut

word count: 1.4k words

summary: loving jeon jungkook is, above all, the beginning of an end.

previous || next

You’re positive your favourite sound in the whole world is the rhythmic, repetitive sound of your fingers tapping on the keyboard.

Everyone has a different approach when it comes to coping with stress and anxiety. Some people drink away their unwanted emotions, some drown themselves in work, some watch yet another, mediocre Netflix show. But your solution, your little panacea has always been writing.

You’re not the best when it comes to expressing your true feelings. You can struggle with saying ‘I love you’ to your mother and then write a long, affectionate letter for her birthday that makes her eyes turn glossy. You may stutter and tumble on your own words while trying to order coffee and then complete academic essays with ease.  

Whenever you feel like you’re overwhelmed, boiled up with mixed emotions, you do exactly what your school counselor told you many years ago: you let it out. She never mentioned any specifics, simply encouraging you to find your own way. And that’s exactly what you did – you picked it up yourself. First, it was writing a diary. No less than two weeks into it, you got bored. Turns out describing in detail every single mundane day of your life was never your forté. You threw away your old notebook, bought a new one and decided to write there whenever you felt like you really wanted to, not out of obligation.  

And you continue to do so, these days you opt for a use of modern technology often. You open your laptop and pour your feelings onto a digital sheet of paper. It’s cathartic, in a way. Getting rid of what you feel like is weighing you down.  

Jungkook however, your dearest best friend, has always been on the other side of the spectrum. Loud, obnoxious, a life and soul of the party who happened to miraculously befriend the most quiet introvert in class. Sometimes you still wonder how your friendship has managed to survive almost twenty years. You’re two polar opposites. Fire and water. Storm and chilly breeze. A confession screamed in the middle of the night and handwritten love letter.  

You’re a dichotomy. Made of the same atoms, pulling in and pulling away. And if the phrase ‘opposites attract’ held any significance, maybe you would’ve ended up together. But in your case, it’s yet another platitude. Something that seems to work out only in books and movies. Because, if that was true, he would never fell in love with a female version of him, just graced with a sprinkle of pure sweetenes Jungkook sometimes lacks.

Soojin is everything you will never be. Polite, outgoing, sociable and so likeable you hate yourself for despising her. Truthfully, there’s nothing bad you could say about her. No wonder he’s fallen head over heels for her, not you.

What’s there to love about you, if you willing chose to pin for a boy that’s so out of your league? It’s actually hilarious to even dream about him returning your feelings.

You stare at the screen with half-lidded eyes. The clock reads quarter past midnight, letters start to blur into nothingness. Yet another chapter of your miserable life is completed as you save the document and slam your laptop shut. You don’t bother to shower or take off your clothes. Sleepiness hits you right when you close your eyes.  

You dream of wedding halls and never spoken love confessions.

You read once on Twitter that being an adult means checking your e-mail as a part of your morning social media routine and since then, you haven’t quite related to anything more in your life.  

At the very top of your inbox there’s yet another e-mail from your Creative Writing proffesor, Kim Namjoon. He’s a very stubborn man, you decide, as you scroll through the contents of his message. He still wants you to consider what he told you a few days ago after class, it seems.  

“Miss ___? Can I talk to you for a second?” 

“Sure.” you replied and awkwardly walked up to his podium.  

You might have been madly (and miserablely) in love with your best friend, but Kim Namjoon has never failed to make you feel like a silly teenager with a crush on her older teacher. To say Kim Namjoon was intimidating was an misunderstanding. His presence was thoroughly electrifying. You remembered a very disappointed sigh the girl sitting next you let out when she noticed a ring on his right hand. You couldn’t judge her. His wife had scored probably the finest man on this damn planet.  

“I read your latest assignment and I must say, your novelette was outstanding as always. Dare I say the best among others,” Namjoon said. You bowed your head in acknowledgement, praying he wouldn’t notice your rose-colored cheeks. “Regarding that, I actually have a proposition for you.”  

At that, your eyes widened. “What kind of proposition, sir?” you asked.  

He picked up a sheet of paper from his desk and handed it to you. It was a flyer, you realised, and read it through quickly. VARIETÉ Publishing was organising an annual contest for young poets, which you had heard about before. Your English Literature proffesor mentioned it during her lecture a week ago. However, poetry had never been your strong suit. As much as you enjoyed reading it, you weren’t really fond of creating your own poems. So why did Kim Namjoon decide to tell you about this all of a sudden?

“I know what you might be thinking right now, but I’m not actually encouraging you to take part in this competition,” As he smiled, two dimples appeared on each side of his mouth. “Do you know anything about VARIETÉ Publishing?”  

Slightly confused, you gave him a nod. “It’s one if the biggest publishing companies in the country.” 

“That’s very much true,” Namjoon agreed. “VARIETÉ's vice-chairman, Lee Jongi, is actually my old friend. We used to study together here, at this university. When I chose a teaching career, he got a job in a foreign publishing company, climbed up the ladder until the very top and now he’s vice-chairman and I’m a simple college professor,” He chuckled. You were too stunned to form a coherent response let alone laugh along with him. Lee Jongi and Kim Namjoon being buddies? It was a small world, after all. “Jongi has always been very fond of young, aspiring writers. When I discover a student with huge potential, I send him their works. If he finds them interesting enough, he might even take a risk and propose a publishing deal. This doesn’t happen quite often, but I want you to know that you have a pretty big chance to impress him.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed because holy fucking shit, did he just say he can help you publish your first book?  

“I don’t know what to say, sir. I’m shocked.” you responded truthfully. You had heard people complimenting your skills before but this was extraordinary. “Let me just process all of this: you know personally VARIETÉ'S vice-chairman and you want to show him my works?” Even said out loud, it still sounded surreal to you.  

“Correct. But of course, I won’t do anything without your consent.” Namjoon said. “That novelette you sent me recently was amazing. I’d love to show it to Lee Jongi one day.”

The task was to incorporate a hidden, symbolic message into a story. You decided to use your favorite flowers, magnolias, and its meaning. They represent eternity, because once they bloom they will continue to bloom for a long time. In your story, a girl gave her best friend magnolia's seeds, wishing her love for him to be everlasting. A day later, she received a pack of seeds from the boy as well. She happily planted them in her garden and when they bloomed, she discovered they were yellow tulips. A symbol of love that will never be reciprocated.

“You make people feel things with your words, ___, and that’s a very rare gift,” You heard Namjoon add. “Promise me you’ll consider my proposition.”  

There was thousand thoughts per hour running in your head, but you gave him a curt nod. “I’ll think about it.”  

As you’re staring now at the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard, you think about the girl whose only dream was to be loved by her best friend. Maybe it’s finally time for you to move on. Bury the past and plant a seed of new life. Because, loving Jeon Jungkook is, above all, the beginning of an end.

With shaky hands, you start writing a response to your proffesor.

#jungkook smut #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #bangtanhq #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #an ode to a broken heart

[blahkugo]

Omakase

Pairing: Shouto Todoroki x Reader 

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: 18+, smut, slight overstim, all characters are aged up, ofc. 

A/N: Happy birthday to the woman that literally birthed my blog, the writer of the best fics I’ve ever read-- *cough Notice, Seven Minutes, Of Love and Lemons, etc.*-- @lookslikeleese​. It’s 5 am right now and my brain cannot come up with the proper words, but just know I love you so much. Thank you for creating our entire friend group. I LOVE YOU. 

omakase (noun): 

(in a Japanese restaurant) a meal consisting of dishes selected by the chef; chef’s choice. 

Thirty minutes into supper with the Todorokis, you think your heart may actually stop beating. It’s not the awkward silence, nor the snowstorm of icy glares traveling across the table. You’ve long since made your peace with the scents of charred leather couches and melted silverware that linger in your hair whenever one of the men gets riled up. 

No, it’s an issue far more pressing than the typical family drama, a matter that needs to be resolved with stealth— immediately. 

It’s Shouto’s fingers, darting into his pocket and pressing a single button. It’s your heels digging into the cool tile beneath you. It’s every nerve standing on end, every passing second sending a wave of heat to your core. Your knuckles blanche, gripping the oak table with such ferocity that it may just snap, and your thighs shake, overwhelmed.

The issue is that there’s a little pink vibrator pressing against your clit and the bi-colored bastard chews his food as though this night is no different than any other. 

It doesn’t matter that the toy’s been placed at the lowest setting all night, doesn’t matter that your fingernails relieve a bit of the pressure every time you dig them into your exposed thighs. The only thought crossing your mind is your impending orgasm. How are you supposed to stifle euphoric pleasure when you’re barely able to hold it together now? 

“So, how’s that new job going?” Enji asks more out of courtesy than interest. While you typically humor his attempts at placid conversation, you’re too troubled to speak to the stoic man in front of you. What if your juices seep through your soaked panties right onto the chair? 

“It’s— ah- it’s really good.” 

And this has been your entire night thus far. Feeble efforts to remain coherent, whines and gasps hidden behind awkward coughs— anything and everything you can possibly do to maintain your dignity in the presence of your boyfriend’s father. 

“What was that funny story you were telling me earlier today?” Shouto doesn’t miss a beat, sending a quick slant your way before stuffing another bite of rice into his mouth. He knows precisely what he’s doing, can feel the pointed daggers you dig into the side of his head, but his relaxed smile reveals nothing to the three pairs of eyes gazing intently at you, awaiting your response.

“Oh, Mt. Lady, she— oh my god,” As soon as you begin speaking, he cranks the toy up to a new level. Though it’s only for a second, the sound that leaves your body is inhuman, a mortifying cross between a sob and a choke that has your palm slamming onto the table fiercely.

All at once, the table is bustling with concern for your safety. To their naive eyes, it seems you choked on a bite of food, and Fuyumi hurries to grab you a glass of water. Shouto simply remains seated, a slick grin plastered across his face at the sight of your heated cheeks and teary eyes. What the fuck could have possessed you to agree to this in the first place? 

“I-I’m okay,” you mumble out, embarrassment shaking you far worse than any sex toy ever could. And that fact— the way your eyebrows knead together in discomfort as you squirm in your seat— is precisely what Shouto wants. You’re no stranger to humiliation, no stranger to the tugging deep in your gut or the heated flush that darts onto your mattress and makes its home on your cheeks.

But this? This type of shame is foreign; it makes your head spin and refuses to waver no matter how much you silently gripe and plead. “Honestly, I feel a bit—” another pulse, another pained gasp from you, “ill.” The words barely make their way out before you’re gritting your teeth, thighs pressing together so tightly they may leave pretty purple marks. 

“Maybe I should take her upstairs,” Shouto sighs, faux apology slipping through his mouth with ease. When did the fucker get so good at lying? 

And then he’s helping you up from your seat, rubbing tender circles into your back, like any good boyfriend would. But every graze is unbearable, sends a tidal wave of warmth rushing through your core. The most innocent of touches has become obscene, twisted in a way only you and the cool man next to you are able to acknowledge. 

As you climb the stairs with shaky legs, you can only pray that the rest of the family doesn’t notice the slick juices trailing down your thighs. 

—

“Who knew dinner and a show could be so entertaining?” He teases, just barely dodging the fist you throw half-heartedly at his shoulder. His supple lips are glued into a smirk, one that probably won’t drop until the night is long over. 

“Please– I-” you attempt to stifle your moans, but in the comfort of his childhood bedroom you find yourself slipping into a high-pitched whine. “Turn it off.” He seems to debate the plea internally, slender fingers brushing over the buttons until you grip harshly at his bicep. You’ve endured enough misery to last you months. 

When he finally switches it off, you feel your entire body slacken and relief wash over you; however, it does nothing for the throbbing in your clit or the pool of desire still brimming in your core. What you crave is his touch, the warmth that pokes and prods at your every muscle, loosening each nerve until you’re a babbling mess— wholly at the mercy of his lithe fingers. 

“Shou,” you mewl, voice dripping with desperation. His eyes widen for a quick second, brows raised and shocked by your blatant come-on with his family only a level down. “I need you.” 

Those three simple words have him springing into action, shoving you against the mattress. Pinning you beneath him with ease, he hikes your skirt up to your hips before running a slender digit against your clothed slit. 

“You made a mess,” his words carry no weight, only amazement at the juices flowing freely through the thin panties and down your thighs. “Probably made a mess all over your chair too.” 

With that comment, your shame is back with a vengeance, tinging the tips of your ears and causing you to cry out. Before Shouto, you’d have never thought this sort of depraved commentary could have you shaking. Hell, you’re not sure he even knew what he was doing to you at first; ever oblivious, Shouto simply speaks his mind. 

Only when he noticed the effect of his words, did he begin using those passing observations against you. Now, he lives for your reactions, spurs you on if only to see how far a gruff remark can push you— and typically, your limit is reached in wanton sobs and bright red scratch marks down his back. 

He doesn’t bother with removing the lace panties, only tugs them to the side so he can brush his fingers against your naked slit. When he pushes a thumb against your clit, you can’t help the loud cry that escapes you. “Bite,” he offers up his wrist so that your moans don’t carry through the thin walls. 

Your teeth sink into his flesh, eliciting a sharp breath at the sudden pain. And he enjoys that part too— the lengths you’ll go to achieve pleasure, the stinging reminders of your desire. “Stay quiet for me, yeah?” He tests a finger, then two, knuckles deep in your doughy walls as you writhe on the bed. “Good girl.” 

“Mmph,” you feel your eyes roll back at the soft praise, thighs tensing as he begins to pump his digits in and out. “Faster, ah– please.” Your moans are muffled against his arm, but he complies nonetheless, fingers curling and hitting the spot that drums against your heartbeat, that rattles through your brain.

The second he brings his lips to your clit, you feel the coil in your stomach about to snap. Hair slick with sweat, your hands roam through his own wet strands, gripping and tugging him closer, closer, closer. He suckles hungrily, his last meal long forgotten as he pushes you further over the edge. 

All at once, you see stars. You’re unsure whether you’re keeping quiet like he asked or sobbing loudly, the tidal wave of pleasure consumes you whole, stomach going taut and twisting as he allows you to ride out your orgasm. With the toy slowly edging you all night, this bliss feels fully merited— is exactly what you deserve after being subjected to his teasing for so long. 

Shouto only lets up when your entire body has gone slack and you push his head away. Bringing his fingers up to your supple lips, he watches hungrily as you slurp at your own slick. 

His eyes are the darkest you’ve ever seen them, pooling with eagerness and a longing for more; he brings a thumb to his chin to wipe at your juices— licks a long stripe up the digit to fully savor you. The image is immodest at the least, animalistic at most.

It reignites your own thirst immediately. 

Though you’re exhausted, core spasming from overuse, you find yourself tugging at his waistband, pulling him close so he can sheath himself inside you in one fell thrust. 

“Fuck,” his voice is husky, groan stifled in the nook of your shoulder. “Still so fucking tight for me.” The only sounds that fill the air are your joint moans, the squeaky springs of the mattress, and the headboard clanging against the wall— sweat soaked skin as his hips snap against you. 

“Ah— please, please, please,” it seems to be the only phrase that falls from your loose lips. Every jerk sends shocks across your damp flesh, vision going foggy as he sends your brain spinning. Once again, you teeter at the edge, so close. Your legs wrap across his back, digging into the globes of his ass to pull him impossibly closer. 

“What do you want?” He grunts into your jaw, peppering wet kisses down your neck and across your chest. It may leave a mark or two, but it’s something to worry about later. 

“I–”At this point, you’re just a teary, blubbering mess, “please, Shou– need your cum.” You manage the words, knowing exactly what effect they have. His movements quicken, pace faltering as he chases his own high. 

And then, you’re both seeing stars. With one final shudder, his cock twitches, and then he’s spilling into you. Your groans intertwine, his a loud sigh of your name, you sobbing helplessly. 

Once he finally stills, he collapses on top of you, both of your chests heaving. His fingers smooth at your matted hair, whispers of ‘so good for me’ and ‘fuck, baby’ into the shell of your ear as he allows your body— still trembling uncontrollably— time to regain composure.  

Now you remember why you agreed to this little game of his.

–

“I hope you feel better,” Fuyumi hugs you goodbye, though your eyes are glazed over in post-coital bliss. Her gaze doesn’t quite meet your own, anyways. But they couldn’t have heard; you were quiet. Weren’t you? 

As you stumble into the passenger side of Shouto’s pristine Model S, you catch the gruff comment Enji murmurs to Shouto, 

“You two could stand to be a bit less obvious next time.” 

#weese's birthday bash #shouto todoroki x reader #bnha smut #shouto x reader #shouto todoroki #mha smut #shouto #shoto todoroki x reader #smut #tw: overstimulation

[mldrgrl]

His’n

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG Summary: A Hanella Twitter prompt, of sorts.  Hank introducing Stella as his wife. https://twitter.com/hole4gillian/status/1411255101990203392?s=21

The whole Zoom appearance thing was getting to be old hat, so when Hank was asked to appear live and in person at the reopening of an independent book store he frequented, he jumped at the opportunity.  He missed reading to people that actually existed and weren’t just little boxes on a screen.  He missed that instant feedback and energy that only a live audience could provide.  He missed being the center of attention.  

The appearance was on a Tuesday evening.  He asked Stella to go, but she had a late class that night.  He asked Becca to come, but Ziggy had a puppy training session.  He wasn’t terribly disappointed.  It was a rare occurrence to have any of his family at an event and he was fine with it.

Hank was greeted by the owner and manager of Read This, a man named Philip, who he considered to be a step above an acquaintance, but not quite a friend.  They had a relationship built upon reciprocity.  Hank was a regular customer, even name dropped the store a few times in interviews to give it a boost, and Philip always stocked his books and made sure signed copies were on display.

The event space in the store was just a small stage at the back, barely large enough to fit two chairs comfortably, and an assortment of mismatched folding chairs scattered in front of it.  The bookstacks were at angles, pointed towards the stage in a vee formation like an arrow down the aisle.  Hank had done a few signings there in the past and they always felt more like intimate gatherings than events.

Philip kicked off the appearance with a short speech thanking everyone for coming out and for supporting the store over the years.  He kept it short and simple and then gave Hank the floor to a round of applause.  Hank stepped up onto the stage and gave Philip a quick hug before he sat down.  All the seats out in the audience were full - all fifteen or twenty of them.  He took a passing glance at the crowd as he unfolded the pages he’d brought with him that had been tucked into his back pocket.

“Any of you motherfuckers blog about this later and call me an old man for what I’m about to do, fuck you in advance,” he said, taking out the reading glasses he had hooked to the collar of his shirt that had recently become a necessity.  

Everyone laughed.  Someone woo-hooed from the audience and Hank dropped his chin to look over the rim of his glasses.  

“Philip said I could read whatever the hell I wanted,” Hank said.  “So I’m going to read an excerpt from a new novel I’ve got coming out in a few months called Alone Together.  A couple things you should know going in, the novel follows the story of Miranda and Scott, a married couple who are on the verge of calling it quits after fifteen years when the pandemic hits and forces them hunker down together when they’d really rather be anywhere else.  This bit I’m about to read is about half-way in, when Scott is starting to reflect on what exactly went wrong and when.”

Hank paused to smooth his pages again.  When he looked up, he straightened his shoulders in surprise.  He saw Stella, leaning against one of the bookstacks with a mild smile on her face.  She was in her work clothes, a white silk blouse and fawn colored pencil skirt and tan heels.  She had a tan blazer over her arm and her briefcase in hand as well.  He took a subtle glance at his watch as he adjusted his pages.  Her night class should have only started a half an hour ago.

“Uh,” Hank started and then hid a grin behind his fist as he cleared his throat.  “Scott watched his wife at her computer from across the room.  She had her headset on and she was laughing.  He couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d heard her laugh.  It occurred to him that he’d forgotten what it sounded like.”

It took about fifteen minutes for Hank to read the full excerpt.  He was momentarily distracted when he saw Becca walking down the aisle.  She went straight to Stella, gave her a hug, and then turned towards the stage with Stella’s arm across her shoulders.  The surprise of having both his wife and daughter there for him almost made him cry.

When he finished, the audience clapped, and Philip came back onto the stage to moderate audience questions.  All the questions were the same variations of questions he had been asked his entire career.  He could answer them in his sleep.  While he was droning on about his routine and writing habits, he saw Becca tip her head back, whisper something in Stella’s ear, and then duck out from under her arm and walk away.  He hoped she wasn’t leaving without saying goodbye.

“Gentleman in the green shirt,” Philip said.

“You said earlier that you were inspired by the pandemic, so I have to ask, how much is fiction and how much is reality?”

“Are you asking me if I based it off my own life?” Hank asked.  “Well, first of all, I want to make a broad statement about writing in general.  That whole ‘write what you know’ garbage that people, mainly professors, let’s be honest, try to instill into you, is bullshit.  Do you think Bram Stoker was a vampire?  Do you think Thoms Harris was a cannibal?  And believe me, I’m not saying that writers don’t cull from their real life when they’re putting words to paper, but there always seems to be this assumption that if you’re writing a modern story, set in a modern world, that somehow that must be your life and your voice.

“Unlike Scott, I am happily married to the most beautiful, intelligent, way out of my league woman and I would never forget, not even for a hot second, that I am the luckiest bastard alive.  We started off the pandemic in very close quarters and when I was trying to think about what I might be interested in writing next, it occurred to me that I could very well be in a miserable position if my life was different.  But, it’s not my life that I was imagining when I finally sat down to write.  It was two people who were at odds with each other and how would they respond to this?

“I’ll say this, though, and then I’ll get off my high horse on the subject.  There is one thing in the story that I gave to Scott that belongs to me.  I even read from that passage tonight, and I’ll read it again.”

Hank put his glasses back on and flipped through his pages until he found the paragraph he wanted.  He glanced up and out to where Stella was before he re-read the lines.

“He could recall in stunning detail the moment he knew he was in love with her.  It wasn’t a romantic moment.  They weren’t out on a date.  It wasn’t during or after sex, when he was naturally euphoric.  It was on a hot summer morning in August when the air conditioner had gone out overnight and they’d both slept poorly and were pissed off at the world.  He watched her angrily brushing her teeth with her pink cheeks and dark circles under her eyes and in his exhaustion and anger he wished for a moment that she wasn’t there, but then he had a flash of his life without her and suddenly he felt a swelling in his chest that stole his breath.  He never wanted to envision a life without her again, not for a minute.”

Hank stared at the page for a few beats before he finally took off his glasses again and looked up.  He first looked for the man that had asked the question and then he turned his gaze to Stella.  

“The fictional situation was different,” he said.  “But, the feeling was the same.”

Stella gave him a subtle smile and her lips puckered very briefly.  His own lips twitched in response and he finally cut his eyes away.  He took a few more questions and then Philip thanked him for his time and invited anyone that wanted to stay to have a book signed to wait for a few minutes as they set up the table.

As people began to talk amongst themselves, Hank left the stage to go to Stella.  She was chatting with Becca, who had returned with two cups of coffee from the cafe next door.

“Hey,” Hank said, sliding his arm around Stella’s waist and squeezing her hip.

Stella put a hand on Hank’s face and her thumb briefly circled his mouth.  She didn’t say anything, but her eyes held his in a warm gaze.  She tilted her chin up at him and he leaned down and kissed her cheek.

“Daughter,” he said, turning to Becca while still holding onto Stella.  He put his hand on the top of her head and kissed the part in her hair.

“Father.”

“I’m glad you came.”

“We thought we would take you to dinner,” Stella said.  “When you’re finished.”

“I would love that.”

Philip came up from behind Hank and said his name.  “We’re ready for you,” Philip said.

“Philip, this is my wife, Stella Gibson.  And my daughter, Rebecca Moody.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Philip said to Stella and then nodded to Becca.  “We sold out of the hardcover of your last book.  Please, let me know if you’d ever like to do a signing.”

“Sure,” Becca said.

“You’d have to put twice as many chairs out,” Hank said.  He could tell Becca wanted to roll her eyes at him so bad.

“Go do your thing,” Stella said, putting her hand over Hank’s on her hip.  She rubbed her thumb over his and he captured it and pinned it down for a moment.  He nodded and then kissed her cheek again.

“Love you,” he whispered into her ear.

“I see what you mean,” Philip said, walking Hank back to the stage where a folding table was set up.  “She is out of your league.”

“Right?” Hank said with a laugh.  “And she married me.  Unfuckingbelievable.”

The End

#i wrote this #hanella #hank moody #stella gibson #marrieds #the fall #californication

[thefallenbibliophilequote]

Shake It Off

Loki x Reader

1989, chapter 6

"She danced to forget him"

Summary: It's hard to find the one, but even if you do find him it's always going to be a daily struggle to make it work. Can you even make it work after he broke your heart? The answer to that is complicated, but it all started when you found each other again in the Stark Tower- and that's where our story begins.

Word count: 2,404

Warnings: as always language, Hydra, angst, mentions of and alludes to sex.

A/N: I really hope this series won't flop because I wrote all of the chapters before I started posting, and like I put so much of myself in this series- I just really hope it'll go well. This chapter is shorter because but it is much needed. I didn't post last week bc of the writers content freeze week, so here it is.

A/N2: the dividers were made by the awesome @chrissquares and @nacho-bucky beta read all of it!

No one is allowed to repost my writing or steal or copy my work! Reblog on tumblr is fine.

Series masterlist

Song on Spotify and YouTube

Steve's arms were around you as your tears stained his shirt, it must have been midnight by now. You came to his doorstep a little after Loki left you again. You knew what you were in for the second you agreed to the temporary bliss that he gave you, but you didn't expect all these old emotions to come back when he would leave you.

"I thought I'll be able to handle it. I thought it'll be worth the rush."

"It's alright darling, I know." You didn't see the angry frown between his eyebrows or his clenched jaw. He couldn't let the anger on the god get the best of him right now, you needed him more now- you needed comfort in a friend. After everything that happened, you knew you would always find safety in his embrace.

"Steve, did you know what he is?" you murmured into his neck a little while later.

"What do you mean?" pulling back he took a good look at your face, and you knew he could see every tear stain on your face and you wished you could hide yourself from him.

"That he is…" you didn't quite know how to describe it, your mind a bit fuzzy. "Blue."

"Oh, yeah we knew that."

"Wait, everyone knew that?" he started to rub your arm, the soft touch made your skin prickling from the cold with goose bumps spreading all over.

"There are a lot of things about him that you don't know Y/N, I really was just trying to protect you from him and from this pain." You nodded at him.

"I wish I'd listened to you sooner. I can't believe I didn't know anything, what else is there?"

You saw his mouth gape but no words came out.

"It's a lot, I'll tell you some other time." By the look on his face you knew you won't be getting any answers now. Nodding, you put your head back down.

"Can I stay here tonight?" you sniffled and thanked him for the tissues he gave you with a smile. You couldn't hear the answer he gave you between blowing your nose. "Can you repeat that please?"

He laughed at you but answered regardless, you were too adorable to deny.

"Of course, kid."

•

The loud beat made it hard for you to hear Natasha who was standing right next to you. It's been a couple of weeks now, and the noisy distraction of the club worked perfectly to take your mind off of anything else.

"What did you say?" you covered the top of the glass in your hand with your other hand, leaning forward to Nat.

"I said maybe we should get out of here, it's already pretty late and Wanda is drunk and you know what happens when she is drunk-"

"Things start to float and gravity is non-existent, yeah I know." You looked around the club, your eyes catching that of a dark eyed handsome man. "The two of you can go; I can take care of myself."

When you saw the two of them walk outside you went towards the beautiful gentleman.

Waking up to the sunshine you looked back at the sleeping man next to you, happy to find him still asleep you groaned at the headache when you got up. You collected your clothes from the floor, panicking for a second when he started to wake up but you quickly put him under, and you were out of the door soon after.

They never stayed, but neither did you. You heard the things people started saying about you in the Tower when they saw you coming back in the morning mostly alongside a sweaty Bucky who was back from a run and a worried Steve who tried to stay silent about how you were dealing with everything that happened.

They didn't like the amount of guys you hooked up with and left a day or so later. To you it was a nice pace but you knew the high of the alcohol and sex wouldn't last long, you needed something different. Plus, it wasn't your fault that they weren't interesting enough.

"Agent Y/N?" you heard the voice behind you coming into the room you sat in with Sam, planning the next stakeout.

"Yes? Oh hi Mike, what have you got for us?" the guy smiled at you and nodded towards the falcon.

"I have the schematics of the whole area that Agent Romanoff asked me to bring you." He handed you the folded papers and when your fingers lightly brushed his it was as if a light bulb lit up in your head.

Sitting back down you leaned forward with a smile.

"So, you said Natasha sent you to bring me these papers?" he nodded at you and you handed the papers to Sam. "Well that's very nice of you and I actually wanted to speak to you so it's a nice coincidence. Would you like to go out to dinner sometimes?"

Sam choked on his drink and made a lazy excuse to get out of the room.

"Really, you want to go out with me?" You couldn't help but actually find him cute when he wasn't as shy now as usual.

"Yeah, I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to." He flashed you a smile at that, and that's how it all started.

•

It was a month later when you walked with Mike down a park with ice cream cones in your hands. He intertwined your free hands together.

Looking at him now, it was simple to see that he is sensible and incredibly nice too, you knew he is everything a girl could dream of getting.

The two of you were close now to the Tower and the charming guy that he is he opened up the door for you to walk in first. When you were inside you kissed him goodbye as he headed back to his department from his break that he spent with you.

You turned around, only to notice Steve leaning back against the wall of the elevator, waiting for it. You cleared your throat when you got closer, not looking forward to have a talk with Steve that surely will come.

It started the moment the elevator doors closed behind the two of you.

"So, you've been dating this guy for about a month now, right?" he started casually and you only nodded.

"Mike seems like a really good guy actually, I know you didn't want to talk with me about him especially after-"

"After what?" you scoffed. "After Loki left? I have Mike now, and he is much better than him."

"Well it's good to hear you're happy now. He reminds me of the guys back in my time."

"Old?"

"Gentlemen."

"Well he is, it's only been a month but I couldn't have asked for anything better."

"According to Tony, he is an excellent employee too." The smirk on his face didn't go unnoticed.

"You did a background check on him? You can't just do that!"

"Stark and I just wanted to see some stuff. Plus, he is Tony's employee so he can do background checks anytime he likes."

"You guys are horrible." You grumbled and attempted to punch Steve's shoulder but it ended up hurting your fist. You huffed in frustration when he laughed at you.

•

Another month went by and you found yourself keeping busy whether it was with training, or missions or going out with Mike and your friends. This week though was blank of anything to do. Steve banned you from the gym, saying that you're working out too much, which caused the stubborn father and daughter to spar with the loser doing whatever the winner wanted them to do. Bucky looked exasperated at the two of you from the sides, and you heard a Thank God being murmured when Steve finally pinned you to the ground and won.

In your room you decided to clean it up a bit. By cleaning you really mean redesigning your whole room while making a total mess and reminiscing on old stuff. Going through your dresser you found some old jewelry boxes, opening one you saw old stuff you used to wear and sorting through them would probably be for the best.

That's when there was a knock at your door, turning around you saw Mike standing there.

"Oh hi, what are you doing here?"

"Captain Rogers let me up, I just wanted to see you and ask if you wanted to maybe come to my apartment after work?"

"Sorry about the mess, I'm in the middle of cleaning." You left the box jumped over piles of things to reach him and give him a soft kiss. "Yeah sure that sounds great."

"I know we said that we would take this slow, but I was kind of hoping we could take this to the next level." A boyish grin spread on his face and you felt gentle kisses as he nestled his face in your throat. "What do you say?"

"Yes. I'd love that." You kissed him back then until he had to go back to work.

Quickly, you closed all the boxes and put them back in their place, forgetting all about reorganizing. Now you have a more exciting thing to do.

•

You woke up the next day to a soft snoring behind you, and an arm wrapped around your waist. The sun was barely out yet, leaving the room with a small glow of orange and red.

You saw your dress on the floor of his room and felt the soft sheets covering you, shivering you pulled them closer and tried to close your eyes to get a little bit more rest.

"Are you sure, darling?" Loki had asked you then when the two of you were barely dressed and breathing heavily between kisses.

"I'm more than sure, Loki I want you." He stopped kissing your neck and pulled back which made you whine and pull at his shoulders.

"Do you think you can handle a god, my love?" you wished you could wipe out the smirk on his face, which is what you did when you pulled yourself up to claim his lips with yours.

"I've handled you this far, so for the love of the gods just fuck me, please." You whimpered at the end of the sentence when you felt his hands start to roam your skin.

"As you wish, my dear." Loki will forever give you anything you ask for.

You woke up with the sunshine painting the room golden as you backed up against the warm chest behind you. You've never felt this warm before, with the man who took over your heart and soul and the love marks he left on you- claiming you. You could still feel the bliss from last night engulfing you with him in this room.

"Did you sleep well?" you turned to the dark haired prince who held a smile that matched yours. Sleep still hang between his eyes.

"Perfect." He pulled you in and suddenly you weren't tired anymore.

The man next to you was still asleep when he changed his position, turning to his other side. You sank deeper into the bed, letting the memories drown you until sleep took over.

•

Yet another month flew by and you could barely remember any of it. Yes there were some successful missions against Hydra, and there were some less successful ones too. In between you went on more dates with Mike and he definitely helped you.

"So I planted a virus in his computer that changed all of his autocorrect!" you burst out laughing at the end of his story.

"And you did all of that because he stole your girl?" he nodded and you laughed harder. "No one can steal a girl, a girl leaves if she wants to. If she left you for someone else then she didn't deserve you."

Your hand was on his thigh and he put his over it with a small chuckle.

"Maybe, but I am certainly not going to let you go." He kissed your knuckles. "I've liked you for a long time you know, and not just as a colleague."

"So I've been told."

"Oh?"

"Natasha told me a little while ago, sometime before we got together. I must say I didn't notice until she said that."

"Well I am offended, oh you hurt me deeply Y/N." you pushed him away from you but brought him back for a quick peck on his cheek."

"Do you forgive me now?" he pondered about it.

"I think I might need a little more."

"I'm sure we can arrange that." Leaning in again, the phone began to ring and he leaned his forehead against yours.

"That's work."

"Always comes in the way."

"Speaks the girl who goes to week long missions!" he stood and went back a few steps.

"You chose to date that girl from your free will!"

•

You've been together for almost half a year now… shy two or three months. You couldn't help thinking how this is probably the guy that you needed, someone steady who took good care of you and made you feel cared for. He never was late, and always so attentive listening to every word you said. How can you need anything more? That was a question that pestered your brain, trying to find reason in your numb heart.

You always smiled around him, and Steve obviously approved judging from the amount of time he let him go into the Avengers quarters. You knew you were attracted to him. It was hard not to be. And yet, it wasn't just there yet- it wasn't like it was with him. It must be a good thing though.

•

"Is this all you got?"

"Sir, you have to understand- we didn't have much time to get all that we needed, we still don't know a lot." Doctor Zazu sighed at the small bunch of paper in front of him.

"Very well, for now we will work on the safe room- you better take care of it. I have enough work working on the formula for the asset." The agents nodded and the doctor turned around to look at the chair, the similarities were uncanny but he improved it, now he is sure this will work- there is no other option.

•

Tags: @ayybtch @buckys-other-punk @chaoticpete @madcrazy50 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @the-departed-potato @rogerrhqpsody @onceupona-happilyeverafter-love @percabethismyotp14

#loki x reader #my writing #1989 #shake it off #1989 taylor's version #1989 loki's version #loki #loki odinson x reader #loki odinson #loki imagines #fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki series #loki laufeyson #loki show

[astaroth1357]

Locker Room Talk- A Beelzebub Fanfic (BeelxGN MC)

(I’m not much of a whole-ass fic writer, so I don’t think this will be a regular occurrence, but I just had a scenario play out too perfectly not to give it an upgrade. I would hope this goes without saying, but harassment is not okay, I do not condone it, and if you are experiencing it you should look into what legal options you have available to report it. Please don’t try the Beel method. You’ll go to jail.)

Warnings: Sexual harassment, unwanted innuendo, implied possibility of sexual assault, vulgarity

"Locker Room Talk” isn't really Beel's thing. In all honesty, he’s never understood the appeal since saying gross stuff where only your friends can hear doesn’t make what you’re saying any better. Because he’s been playing sports for nearly all the time he's been in the Devildom, he’s been around his fair share of these kinds of conversations. Most of the time he just keeps to himself and tries to tune out whatever the other guys have to say. It gives him a bit of a reputation as the “innocent” one sure, but he just prefers not to play along with their pervy antics. If they wanted that, they could talk to Asmo for all he cared.

That’s not to say he didn’t like his teammates or anything. Most of them were pretty good people on the court and got their acts together off of it. And Beel really loved playing sports. He needed the physical outlet as a distraction from his hunger… If he had to put up with a little vulgarity from time to time, it seemed like a fair enough trade… Or. At least it was at first.

When MC came to the Devildom, they turned his whole world upside-down. Things between his brother had always been tense before and even Belphie had grown more distant with him after what happened to Lilith, but it felt like in only a couple of short months they were able to soothe everything over. His family has never been happier and neither has he… Plus, it helped that they were a good, and eager, cook.

His teammates sniffed out his crush for the little human fairly quickly. To be fair, he wasn’t exactly hiding it very well. The first time they ever came by one of their practices, a pouch of homemade cookies in hand, he could have kissed them on the spot. No one, not even Belphie, makes the time to go check on him during practice like that... He must have made his happiness pretty obvious because the human started making it a regular habit. At least two, sometimes three, times a week they would drop in with some kind of food for him. Store-bought, homemade, a small snack, or packed meal, it honestly didn’t matter to him. Anything that came from their hands felt three times more filling than it should have. 

He’s a little embarrassed to admit that after a few weeks the anticipation would start to show in his performance… If they were on their way he could usually smell whatever they had packed heading his direction and he’d play extra aggressively just to get to a break faster. He'd mow everybody else over just to have an excuse to go meet them at the gate. He’s been more than a little reckless before and thinking back on it can make him wince, but he usually forgets all about those little mishaps as soon as he’s met by their smiling face. 

“Hey, Beel! How is practice going?” They’d ask him. And no matter how he answers, all he’d think would be, “Never as good as right now…”

It was around the time that his teammates put it together that the teasing started. It was innocent enough at first. They’d pick on him for having a little crush on the exchange student but it was always lighthearted. Nothing worse than maybe the occasional,

“Oi Beel? Did you get yourself a housewife/husband? Good for you.” or “They’ll cook for you?? What a steal!” Nothing that bad. At least, nowhere near as bad as it would get.

As the weeks passed it seemed like his teammates were expecting something out of him... Like, was he supposed to make a move on them? Though Beel really did want to be with the MC, there were a lot of complications… His brothers being a big one. Most have made no secret that they’re also pretty fond of them too, Mammon especially, and it felt wrong to make another rift in the family right after it took so long to patch the first one… Of course, his teammates didn’t know that. And they didn’t care. All they wanted to do was amp up the pressure…

“Hey, Beel, did you see what your honey was wearing today? I think they’re sending signals. You should probably jump on that, you know?” When it first started, he couldn’t actually believe what he was hearing. Sure, their little jokes sounded like innuendo but they kept things just veiled enough that he could have been reading into it. He’d get uncomfortable, but brush it off easy enough. However, it only ever got worse from there.

“Yo Beel, you boning that human yet? What? No?? What the hell are you waiting for? We see you like them so just do it!” It would grate on his nerves...

“Beel, how’s your sweetheart been doing? Still not fucking, right? Bet they’re getting lonely…” He’d tell them to stop. At first politely, then more forcefully.

“Look, man, if you don’t start taking charge then they’re going to get antsy. Plenty of other guys are here looking to get their dicks wet… Just look at your brothers, am I right?” After a while, he started shouting. But his aggravation only seemed to fuel the fire.

“I bet someone will have them bent over and forgetting all about you by the end of the week.” Eventually, he went to the coach but he didn’t care. “It’s just ‘Locker Room Talk.’ Grow up,” is all he got in response. It didn’t feel like it was just that anymore, but he started to doubt himself anyway... Was he overreacting? Every bone in his body wanted to go on a rampage whenever they started to pester him but wasn’t it all just words? He could endure words, couldn’t he? Besides, RAD has a strict no-violence on school grounds policy on its athletes. Even if he did get a good slug in, then he’d been thrown out of future games for the rest of the season.

Their words were just words. Gross, awful words, but words nonetheless. Sure. Whatever. He could endure that… but only that.

On the day he nearly lost it completely, it was right after their last practice before a big game the next night. The whole team was amped to go, but Beel was trying to keep to himself. Get in, get out, and go back to the House where MC was probably waiting. He’s long since stopped sticking around for socializing with the others. He had just finished changing when one of his teammates cornered him by his locker, the slimiest grin already plastered on his face.

“Look, Beel… We’re going to do you a favor, alright? Since you’re taking so long with this… The guys and I have decided to invite your little human to an “after-game party” tomorrow. To celebrate our victory and all that. Bet they’re dying for some action since you’re not giving any. You’re free to come if you want. Though… they might not be paying much attention to you.” Beel could feel his eye twitch as he watched the scumbag’s snickering face. That face. That fucking face. He'd never seen or heard anything so revolting in his life and-

For a few seconds, all he could see was red.

When he came back to his senses, he already had the sleazebag pinned against the lockers by the windpipe, fingers gripping his neck so tightly that his nails drew blood. At some point, he must have slipped into his demon form because the vibrations of his wings behind him made a sound not unlike a warning growl. His expression must have been ferocious because in the guy's eyes he saw nothing but pure terror. He’d never felt this much rage and hatred together before. Surely, at this moment, he ought to look more like Satan or Lucifer on a rampage than he does himself.

“If you say one more thing about that human, I will kill you. Touch them once and I will eat you. Are we clear?" His hand clenches further, making him receive a gargled cough in response. At this point, he could have probably flicked his wrist and snapped his neck in two. "Then pass it on." He tossed the man back into the metal lockers and watched him sink to the floor, clawing at his own throat and gasping for air. Oh yeah, his sporting days for this semester are over. But if it keeps him away from this trash? He’ll take it.

Of course, he made sure that he doesn’t stick around much longer. He left the scumbag to sort himself out, grabbing his gym bag quickly. He barely remembered to hide his demon form again before walking out of there, his nerves are practically shot already. Thankfully, though, he didn’t make it three steps out the door before a familiar face stopped him in his tracks. MC, who must have been waiting patiently for him this entire time, is leaned next to the bleachers with a backpack in one hand and a deli sandwich in the other. The perfect smile they got when they saw him signaling their blissful ignorance of all that just went down before.

“Hey Beel! How was pr-Oomf!” His body colliding with theirs cuts off their question. Beel’s gym bag lies already forgotten in the dirt, ditched so his arms could embrace them fully. It’s just a hug, a tight hug, but there’s a certain desperation to it. Though he knew it was ridiculous, a part of him was terrified that his teammates may just come up and try to snatch them if he let go…. After some time to process, he felt their head settle against his chest. He worried that they can hear his raging heartbeat... Would they pick up on how pissed he was just a moment ago?

“Ah… Not that great then, huh…?” His arms tense, pressing them closer against the fabric of his shirt. Should he tell them what he's been putting up with…? Does he even have the stomach for it? Letting out a sigh through his nose, he simply grunted out, “No…” 

“Well, what’s wrong then?” So many things… He just wanted to pick them up and fly them away from all this crap. He wanted to rip the tongues out from anyone who's said a bad word about them. He wanted to keep holding them in his arms, shielding them from anything and everything that could possibly take that perfect smile away… But they probably don’t know that, do they?

“Beel? Are you okay...?” He let a slow sigh draw out from his nose, resting his head atop theirs. All too soon, he'd have to let them go. But, for the moment, he could just hold them and wish this feeling would never end...

“Only if you are…”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #beelzebub #shall we date #obey me fanfic #obey me gender neutral mc #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel x mc #obey me beel #beel snapped y'all #always beware the nice ones

[herstroywritten]

Darn Pigtails

Hello! I genuinely have no excuse for this monstrosity of a piece that I agonized over for the past few days instead of focusing on my uni work. I’ve spent the last month obsessing over Fate and Rivusa (the latter has been a life long obsession and Fate has only added fuel to the fire, with just one scene...). Yes, I am a part of that clown circus and honestly, I’m proud. I’ve always been a writer, but never posted anything but I figure here goes nothing. I was very inspired by some very talented writers in this tiny little club that’s been created on here for this ship (you all know them by now...). I couldn’t resist adding my own (not so) little addition to the collection. I don’t currently have an account on ao3 or anything, so this is just what’s happening. Be warned, it’s long and maybe excessive (8k words, oops). Other than that, enjoy and feel free to let me know your thoughts!

It started with pigtails.

He'd seen Dowling parading her around the square as students fought tooth and nail to kill the fake dummies that seemed to embody their realistic counterparts more than they should have. She's had a raincoat on at the time, not that he would have cared what she was wearing because… how could he notice anything but the pigtails? Fucking pigtails! Long enough to reach her waist, dark enough to have him thinking that the darkest of night skies must have been modeled after that same color, and pin-straight from root to tip. She walked by, lavender sweater and loose jeans, and that's the first thing he noticed. Her pigtails. He felt his tongue move, the tip pressed against the top of his mouth, ready to make a crude comment about how he'd love to tug on those pigtails in more than one scenario because honestly, was he not supposed to with the way that they swung about perfectly matching the sway of her hips? His eyes lit up as he just about let the words tumble out, and then she let her eyes lift to meet his as she made her way through the specialists' training grounds. Brown eyes lingered over his green ones for longer than any normal interaction accounts for, before dropping downward to the rest of his form. His mouth quirked into a smirk.

 "Oh," he thought. "So this is how we're going to play this game."

 Never let it be said that Riven ever backed down from a game or a challenge. And it just so happened that this particular game, the cat and mouse chase, was one of his favorites. So he figured, if she could stare at him like that, it would only be rude not to return the favor. He turned around, let his eyes fully graze over her whole figure the way he'd been too distracted to do before, and that's when he noted the stick she held. Whatever dumb comment he'd been so eager to make about her pigtails was quickly replaced by, "You like holding that big stick?"

 He'd hoped for a reaction. And boy did he get one, a swift and lithe little trick she'd been hiding, seemingly waiting for the chance to pull it out. And even though he'd been training his whole life to defend himself, he just about let her jab his left eye out because he was so very much intrigued by the way her hair swayed to meet her movements and her brown eyes that bore into him with rage. Yeah, this was going to be all kinds of fun.

 "I think I just threw up," she said, her face twisting into clear disdain. But her eyes sparkled and he thought maybe her hair is not the only thing the night sky was modeled after. He'd seen her before, somewhere in the background perhaps. Class? No. If she were a specialist and in his classes, there was no way in hell he wouldn't remember her. The cafeteria? Probably, there was only one place to get food in this godforsaken place and he doubted she hadn't made her way down there at least once. The Alfea hallways? Again, not unlikely. And that's when it clicked into place. She was one of the too many to remember (in his opinion) roommates of Sky's new obsession- Bloom. The four, sometimes five, of them were always together, huddled up beside one another in the cafeteria benches or on the way to classes. Honestly, now that he thought about it, was there ever a time when he'd seen those girls- besides Stella- alone? He definitely had never seen her alone. "Well, better take advantage of the chance," he thought. So, he dug into her, asked about her little run around the training grounds with the headmistress. He wanted to see how far he could push her rage, how willing she was to give him a good show. Between comments about dancing and fairies versus specialists, her eyes flashed purple and he soon realized that he'd bit off more than he could chew. As if her natural brown irises weren't alluring enough, the way they looked when he powers took over held a whole other sense of siren's lure within them. It took him a second to realize what was happening, that she was reading him. And he would have let her continue too, if it meant that he could hold her attention just a little while longer and feel whatever kind of electricity was rippling between the two of them for a few more minutes. Too bad she chose that moment to let him know exactly what she was doing, and exactly how he felt.

 "You really hate being here, don't you?"

 In this school, yes. Here, right now, with her eyes all over him and his hands twitching to edge upwards and brush his hands against those darn pigtails? No. No, he would have loved to stay right here just a little longer. But he was more scared of whatever hell she'd dig up from within him, so instead he told her to stay the fuck out of his head. He caught a glimpse of her prideful smirk, taunting him about this lost battle and her evident win, right before he whirled around and walked his way back to wherever his legs would lead him.

 Passing by the guy he'd seen constantly following her around like a lost puppy dog, the one he assumed was her boyfriend, he murmured under his breath something along the lines of "Good luck with that one."

 And then he was gone. But not before he remembered that he hadn't caught her name. No matter. As previously mentioned, never let it be said that Riven ever backed down from a challenge. She'd won this battle, but he was going to win the war.

_______________________________________________________________

The next time he found himself in her company only, the world had flipped on its axis.

Dowling and Silva were gone and Harvey had turned into a muted professor, almost never seen anywhere except in the greenhouse when he had classes to run. The new headmistress, Rosalind, ruled with a grip tougher than steel. Andreas was  the male version of her, so not any better. Fairies were being forced into combat positions, whether they liked it or not, and upperclassmen specialists were forced into being their mentors, whether they liked it or not. Classes were stricter. You miss one lesson, you make up two class times in personal training with either Andreas or Rosalind herself. At first, everyone'd thought that was a stupid rule. Who doesn’t want a one-on-one with the professors? It took just one dumb third-year specialist missing his first lesson on the first day of the second term for everyone to realize that these training sessions were practically abuse covered with a prettier name.

But the thing that had changed the most, the thing that he couldn't even begin to name, was whatever the hell was happening to his mind. He no longer knew where his day started and where it ended. He knew he must have gotten up every morning and  gone to classes and eaten to sustain his body for the brutal training session that followed and delt with whatever else needed dealing with. And yet, he remembered none of it. None of it except the moments spent chasing Sky around (which inevitably meant chasing the Winx suite around), the moments spent training his new fairy mentee- Musa, and the nightly runs to Dowling's- no, Rosalind's- office where he involuntarily spilled every little detail about his day. His mind had become an utter blur, his thoughts were no longer his own. He knew somewhere in his mind that he needed to stop, had tried endlessly to stop, but the more he held back from Rosalind's spell, the faster his words seem to come out. So, he'd stopped trying to fight it.

It was to his horror when he had been assigned Musa for training. He wasn't sure what he had expected. Of course they were going to pair him with a Winx suitemate, he just had expected it to be Bloom. Bloom was who they wanted details on after all. Even Stella would have made more sense, what with her mother being so very controlling. But no. Bloom went to Sky, Stella to some third year specialist, and he got Musa. If guilt wasn't already shredding him to pieces, it would be now.

He tried to console himself with the fact that he was better prepared to handle her this time. He'd spent enough time with Sky and the girls to have picked up the little details about her. She constantly listened to music to block out the world, she liked wearing shorts and miniskirts (a fact he quite enjoyed), she had an unhealthy obsession with bomber jackets (a fact he could do without when she was also wearing lacy silks under those same jackets), she liked pancakes for breakfast (but only when they were drenched with maple syrup), and the list goes on. His personal favorite fact, however, was that her hair was always immaculate and never the same two days in a row.

The point was, he could do this. All he had to do was train her. No talking necessary. She sure as hell was not about to strike up conversation with him if he didn't bother her. So, he'd keep his mouth shut and just teach her what he needed to teach her. Then he'd leave. That way, when his legs would inevitably carry him to Rosalind at midnight on the dot, he'd have nothing to give her but a good rundown of what moves they had practiced.

How wrong he had been.

He had clearly overestimated his ability to not falter in front of her, because the second she walked into the mat, he knew he'd have to say something.

This time, her hair was in tightly wound braids. Two of them, wrapping vertically down her scalp like fine rope. This time, he wants to undo her hair, to tug the black elastic ties out of place and run his fingers through each threaded piece until the strands lay about her shoulders in waves. He'd like to know what she looks like with her hair down, like fully down.

As if the hair wasn’t enough, she was also dressed in the tight female version of the specialist gear. It's all green woven material that crosses her chest, black mesh that lines her sides, and tight leggings that bring an ungodly amount of attention to her ass.

So, he slips up. "If I knew this is what you'd look like in a uniform-" he starts, but never finishes.

"Don't you dare finish that thought," she warns, voice dripping with a no-nonsense attitude.

"What's gotten into you?"

"It has not been my day. Hell, it has not been my week."

"It hasn't been anyone's week," he feels the need to remind her. And when she looks at him with those eyes, he wonders if she can read right through him without having to use her magic.

"Yeah, well. Let's just say I'm having a particularly more-so-than-average-shit day. So I'd appreciate it if you kept the comments to yourself." She's frustrated, he can see it. She's giving him the perfect out of a bad situation. She's begging him not to talk to her and that's exactly what he needs but goddamn it, he can't back away from a challenge even when his mind is in literal hell.

"What, can't handle me?" She scoffs at that.

"I can handle you just fine. I've been handling other's comments and thoughts since my powers started showing up. That's not the problem.

"What is the problem then?" He's digging, searching for something. For what, he's not sure. She's just finished lacing up her boots. She looks at him then, stares him down.

"The problem is I don’t want to handle you right now, Riven." And with that, she shoves past him to the center of the mat. But he's not done yet.

"You sure about that? I've never met a girl who doesn’t want to handle me before…" He wiggled his eyebrows at her, and she chuckles a little at his antics.

"Yeah, no. But even if I did want to, you'd really have to do better than that.

"What, the line wasn't up to your standards?"

"Was it up to yours?"

"Not my best, I'll admit. But I make do. And you can't tell me Harvey Jr. has done any better." Rage flushes through her features at that particular comment. He watches as her cheeks flush bright red and as the flush slowly spreads to her neck and below the rounded collar of her uniform, slowly cursing whoever created the damn thing for not making it a V-neck. 

"Ooh, a reaction! Go on, then. Tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours."

"None of your fucking business."

"It never is, and yet I'd love to know."

"Seriously, Riven. Let's just not talk." She wound up, ready to burst. Her hands are balled into fists by her side and her back is arched towards him in anger. She's a spring ready to jump, and he wants to see how high she can reach.

He goes for the typical line, "Trouble in paradise, then?"

Turns out she can jump pretty damn high, something he expected. What he didn't expect was for her to jump him. She pushes him with so much force that he barely catches himself before he falls. Tears stream down her face as she punches at his chest (hopelessly, he notes… he's got a lot to teach her). He lets her continue the onslaught on his chest, is impressed by her force and strength and persistence even if the form is all wrong. When she finally stops, the tears do too. All that's left are her hiccups and his eyes following her every movement. He watches her dry her eyes vigorously, hears her curse him and the school and herself… and Sam? He's not sure what's happening right now, not sure why his arms suddenly want to wind around her frame and pull her in, or why his heart clenches at the sight of her tears. He chooses to ignore it all.

They continue the rest of the training session in silence, with him only speaking to direct her movements and point out a thing or two about her form. Later that night, after running through his nightly routine with Rosalind, he finds out from Sky that Bloom was especially distressed today because Musa was especially distressed today because Musa and Sam had decided to call it quits. Riven feels light-headed at that news,  and he's still not exactly sure why his body is so adamant about reacting to news involving her.

He rolls into bed, thinking bitterly to himself that he won today. He won this battle. So why does it feel like he lost it?

______________________________________________________________

They continue their training sessions in silence for a while, until eventually a banter sparks between the two of them. He's not quite sure how it happens, just as he's not quite sure how anything happens anymore. He assumes he probably made some joke about how good her legs looked in those damn tights or about how she desperately needed help with her fighting stance. Maybe he just wore her down with his constant questions. He doesn't really care, to be honest. He knows he should care, in the same way that he knows he should actually avoid talking to her instead of showing up every day eager to see her. He just can’t bring himself to do it, not when she shows up in that uniform every day or when she looks at him with so much pride when she finally nails a move they've been working on for so long, and definitely not when she starts to initiate the playful conversations with the same smirk that he would maybe like to kiss off her face. There's so many things he should do at the end of the day, but he does none of them. He just lets whatever happens happen, and it kind of works out for a bit. They tease each other, teeter-tottering somewhere between playful and full on flirting. They fight in close combat corners, sometimes ending up on top of each other. Those days are a personal favorite of Riven's, especially when she's on top of him and he can feel her thighs straining against his waist as she pins his arms above his head. (He may have taught her that one move just for this moment. He felt it was a shame to not put those dance-trained legs of hers to use.)

The perfectly odd tightrope they walk snaps on a Wednesday afternoon, after they've finished training and are walking toward the benches that hold their water bottles. He takes a swing of his water, and then looks up from his seat to see her standing up and chugging her own bottle. A loose droplet slips past her lips and down her uniform's tank top. He follows it with his eyes, not even bothering to hide the very obvious motion even as she finishes her drink, looks at him with a raised eyebrow, and then chuckles at him while rolling her eyes.

"You could be a little less obvious, you know." She calls him out casually. He smirks at the comment before dragging his eyes back up to her brown orbs.

" Subtle isn't really my forte. Besides what fun would it be if you didn't know I was staring at you?"

She rolls her eyes, but her smile gives her away. "You're gonna give some poor girl a heart attack one day if you look at her like that." It's a teasing remark, but he feels his adrenaline hike up at her comment. The game is back on.

"Some poor girl, huh?" He leans into her on the bench, invades her personal space. She blushes, looks directly ahead, and he thinks he's winning another one of the many secret battles they seem to find themselves fighting. Then, she turns to him and looks him dead in the eyes.

"Can I ask you something?" He didn't expect that. Again, he knows he should just leave or say no. Anything to avoid a conversation that could lead to more than just a flirting banter, anything to avoid something that Rosalind may actually be interested in. But she's looking up at him with wide eyes and he's convinced he's become weak and that she's won this battle because he can't bring himself to say no.

"Uh… sure?"

She looks around nervously, as if deciding whether to ask what's on her mind or not. Finally, she leans close to him and asks in a slow and quiet voice, "Where do you sneak off to every night at midnight?" He pulls back from her faster than he thought he would ever be able to pull away from her, blinking down at her now shocked face.

"How-"

"How do I know? You have a roommate, Riven. He hears you leave every night and says nothing about it, but he's been worried about you. He says you've been acting different… For what it's worth, I think he's right. Especially when we're not in training sessions, you're completely out of it. I know this has been a rough mon-"

This is it. She's dug deep enough that she has hit rock bottom, she's found the dead-end at the bottom of his soul. He has to let this banter go now. He can't have her asking questions he'll then have to report back to Rosalind.

"You know nothing." He words are curt and sharp. She flinches at their edge, but doesn’t back down. It's one of his favorite things about her, her persistence.

"You can talk to me if something is wrong, you know? Or to Sky or the girls… you can talk to any of us…" He watches as her eyebrows furrow, traces the line they form down her nose to her lips and then back to her eyes. And that's when he notices that her eyes have changed color to purple. He grabbed her hand quickly and firmly, enough to break her concentration but not enough to hurt her (God, even in his rage, it would never be enough to hurt her).

"I've told you not to do that. Not to use your damn mind powers on me." His voice is strained, laced with anger and something resembling fear. 

"I'm trying-"

"I don't care what you're trying. You shouldn’t be in there. You shouldn't be in my brain. There's nothing in there worth your time or energy and there never will be."

And with that he spins on his heel and marches into the forest behind the training grounds. He doesn’t turn around, but if he did, he would have seen Sky moving out of the shadows and heading toward Musa.

"Did you do it?"

It takes her a second to interpret his question. She still staring into the distance as Riven's figure fades out of view, her eyes finally returning to their normal brown color. She continues to stare at the dot in the distance, unwilling to look away as if she's daring him to turn around and spare her one last glance. He doesn't.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did." She finally turns to Sky. "He's completely blocked from my powers. Dowling was right, he's under some sort of mind control."

______________________________________________________________

It’s 2AM by the time Riven finally makes his way to the room he shares with Sky. He's once again not really sure where his day went or what he did after he flipped on Musa and marched his way into the woods after their little spat. He remembers anger, a lot of anger. He's angry at her for trying to dig into his brain when they had already established that he hated it. He was angry at Dowling for dying (at least, he assumes she's dead because where else would she be?) and leaving the school to the psychopath that is Rosalind. He's angry at Rosalind for manipulating him, controlling his mind. He's angry at Beatrix for getting him into this stupid mess. But mostly, he's angry with himself for letting it all happened, for somehow always making the wrong move at the wrong time, for managing to screw up his own life in such a grand manner that it constitutes an award (truly, he's outdone himself this time). He's mad at himself for not being able to control his own mind, for letting Rosalind take up residence in his brain and being able to do nothing about it. He's even angry at himself for not just standing there and letting Musa read his emotions, because maybe if she did then she'd know the hell he was in. His brain was constantly pulling in all different directions, trying desperately to get away from the constraints of Rosalind's spell. Headaches are nonending and thoughts leave as soon as they come. It's like there's two people waging war within him, but one of them brought swords to a gunfight and is losing horribly. But it’s a war he feels he should fight on his own, and maybe that's why he didn't let her read him. As much as he hates to admit it, the mind control and guilt was breaking him but he could handle that. What he couldn't handle, however, was getting her involved in this stupid mess by mistake, which would inevitably lead to Rosalind getting ahold of her as well. God knows there's only so much room left in hell or sins, and he'd be damned if he hadn't already filled all the available spots.

He was glad for the day to finally be over, glad to be heading to bed (not sleep though, sleep did not exist when his mind was in so much pain all the fucking time). It seemed the world had other plans for him, however, because upon opening the door to his dorm, he was met with a sight that he both dreaded and wanted to burn into his memory for the rest of however long he had to live before Rosalind finally took pity on him and bent his brain to death. 

Perched on his bed, leaning forward ever so slightly, elbows meeting her knees, and head bend toward the floor was Musa. From his angle, he could only see her side profile, but apparently that's all his body needed to be automatically sent into a frenzy. The first thing he notices was, not to his surprise, the hair. She'd replaced her training braids with buns, big ones that hang precariously form her head as tendrils of her dark hair fell in loose waves and framed her face. He again found himself wondering what she would look like with all of her hair fully down. His fingers itched to burrow into those carefully constructed space buns and pull their pins out of place, just to see if she'd look half as beautiful with her hair down as she did with her hair up.

He stood like that for a while, taking her in and letting her continue to stare at the dark wooden floors with her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He's not sure when, but eventually she turned toward the door, eyebrows first shooting up when she noticed him staring at her, and then falling back into place as she shot him a shy mile from across the room.

"Hey," came her greeting in a small voice.

"What the hell are you doing here?" His question was harsh, but he knew himself well to know that if he even let just one layer of himself down with her, he may as well just lay down all his defenses. She had a way of getting him to speak and break down and he wasn't about to let himself get her mixed up in whatever evil plan he'd been helping construct against his will.

Too bad for him, because it seemed Musa had been expecting a fight and was ready to fire back his quips with some of her own. She simply rolled her eyes and casually stated, "Well, then, straight to it, are we?"

"If you're looking for Sky or Bloom, they're probably in a dark hallway somewhere snogging each other half to death," he answered. She grimaced at the image.

"Yeah, no. I'm not here for Bloom or Sky."

"Then you're not here for anyone." She gave him a pointed look at that phrase. He wisely chose to ignore it and instead made his way to the couch in the middle of the room, throwing his jacket somewhere on it.

"What, that's all you have today? I'm standing on your bed, we're alone in your bedroom, I'm in a miniskirt… and you're not going to make a comment about showing me a good time? You're losing your touch, Riv." She was teasing him, he could tell by the light tone of her voice. Maybe she liked to see his reactions the way he so enjoyed watching her react to his own snarky comments. Maybe she saw enough into his brain earlier to have dug up some of his fantasies. Damn her, he'd been avoiding looking anywhere but her face since he walked in, and now here she was basically challenging him to do more. Damn him and his inability to back down from a game he was so clearly not apt to win at the moment. He turned around and finally got a good look at her. She was indeed in a miniskirt, under which she had tucked a lacy white top that was very clearly meant to showcase the black bra she wore underneath the pitiful excuse of a shirt. Her signature red bomber jacket hung from her shoulders and the black boots she had on were laced all the way up to her kneecaps.

This must be it, he thought. This must be his punishment for spilling his guts to Rosalind every night. Or maybe, his guilt and the pain throbbing through his veins had finally won out and he was finally cracking under all that pressure. That's fine. He wasn't even surprised this is what his brain chose to tease him with at the brink of destruction. He figured she'd be the one to shatter him, it was only a matter of time.

"Hello? Are you even listening to me?" Her voice broke him out of his trance. Ok, maybe he wasn't imagining her.

He sighed, defeated and broken and just tired. "Why are you here, Musa?"

It’s a staring match now. He watches as her eyes soften and the sarcasm leaves her features.

"I couldn’t read you earlier today. In the training grounds-" No. Anything but this conversation.

"Maybe you should consider working on those powers of yours then. Seems to me like you're the one losing your touch."

"I'm serious, Riven-"

"I am too."

"Jesus, Riven, let me just finish!" Anger sparked in her features. "You're loud, Riven." He scoffed at that. "Your emotions, I mean. They're usually loud… but they're also lively and harmonious, in a weird way that I can't seem to figure out. Lately, however, they've been quiet… as if they don't exist at all. And at first I thought it was me, I thought I was getting better at controlling my powers. But when I tried to read you today, I felt nothing…" There is was, she had figured it out, and now she looked at him as if he was a science experiment she couldn’t quite figure out.

"… Maybe my hearts just finally turned to stone." He tried for a joke. She did not find it amusing.

"I know, Riven." He's not sure what that was supposed to mean. What did she know? That he was a horrible person? That he'd snitched on her and all their friends (were they his friends?) to the queen of evil? Or worse, that his body lit up whenever she was around?

"Cryptic, but ok. I guess between that line and the fact that you somehow snuck into my room, you could make the whole 'good girl turned bad, mysterious girl' vibe work. Honored I'm the first you're trying it out on. If you'd like to take it a step further, the bed's right behind you." She may have the upper hand in this game, but he's still a stubborn ass.

"Seriously, Riven. I'm not kidding." She took a step toward him. Wrong move, angel.

"I know you're not. That shirt doesn't exactly scream 'kidding'. Tell me, did you just choose the first thing you found in your closet to put on?" He took a step forward this time, one long stride before they stood chest to chest and he hooked his finger under her chin. "Or is that shirt part of this whole 'mystery girl' scheme? Because, I won't lie, it's working." He sees her shiver at his words and doesn't bother to hide the smirk that graces his face. Finally, things were getting interesting. "Wonder if it looks half as good on my bedroom floor…" He noticed her eyes flicker downward, to is lips, but they moved back up just as quickly. He stared right back at her, watching as she struggled to make up her mind about where to slap him for that last comment. He didn't have to wait too long for a response.

"I'm sure you do." Her words came as a whisper, and the smirk that followed was just as alluring. He barely had time to process the meaning behind it all, before she crashed her body onto him and her lips found his. Her hands gripped into the sides of his t-shirt, keeping him to her with such force that he vaguely wondered why in the world she felt the need to do that when he wouldn't dream of walking away from this, from her. It's frantic and it's rushed. One of his hands find her waist, pulls her impossibly closer to him. His other hand delves into the hair at the back of her head before sliding to the side and pulling at the pins that hold her right bun in place. It takes him pulling out just one pin and the structure falls apart, her hair tumbling around them and cocooning them in place. He hears her gasp, her hands finally unlatching from his shirt as she splays them apart over his muscles, moves them up to his shoulders. 

He's moving backward, whether to ask her if this okay or make a comment about that noise she just made, he's not sure. He never gets the chance. She pulls his to her again, kisses him like she's been starved in a thirsting in wasteland for days and he's the first sign of water she's stumbled upon, bites his lip- fucking bites his lip and sucks on it and pulls it with her teeth… and he thinks that her being here could not have been his punishment. This, right here, her kissing him like this, this is his punishment. This is his pain finally taking over and shattering his soul.

Maybe Rosalind somehow found out about his little crush and is getting payback for the fact that he didn't show up for their nightly midnight story time. Maybe, he's already dead and in hell and some devil out there is playing a cruel, cruel trick on his brain. Maybe that's why his body is shaking, literally shaking, and his mind feels like its tearing apart. He feels Musa's hands on his scalp, her palms splayed out at his temples and fingers tightly wound into his hair. Again, he is surprised at the sheer force she seems to pour into her touch, anchoring him to her as though he could ever want to leave her embrace.

He's so wrapped up in his thoughts and in her touch that he barely hears the whimpers of pain coming from her or feels the tears streaming down her face as she hold him to her. When he finally feels the tears trickle between their lips, be pulls back (genuinely, pulls back because her fingers are still forcing him to her), opens his eyes to find her already looking back at him. But instead of the brown irises she wore when this rough little make out session started, her eyes are now purple. And her face is red. She looks exhausted. He feels exhausted. 

He's about to ask her what's wrong, if she's ok, if her powers are going haywire. But he's so dizzy and so tired and suddenly he's leaning on her and she's pulling him onto the bed. She looks down at him, whispers "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" over and over in his ear and he finds himself wondering what she's sorry about and where the pain that haunted him for weeks has gone before he slowly sinks into oblivion.

________________________________________________________________

He wakes up and she's gone.

It's Sky who sits next to him the next day, Sky and Headmistress Dowling of all people. He mumbles something about being dead and hallucinating, but Sky just laughs and tells him he's happy to have him back.

It takes a good few hours to catch him up on all the shit he's missed while he was being controlled by Rosalind. Apparently, Dowling was stuck under a bunch of plants? The girls somehow managed to free her with some potion from a cousin of Terra's. Turns out they've been sneaking out every night, pretending to go to parties and instead heading outside the barrier trying to find clues on what the hell Rosalind is up to. That would explain Musa's choice of clothing the other night. 

Sky tells him it was the girls' idea to keep him out of the loop at the beginning, worried that his weird obsession with Beatrix and her even weirder obsession with him would lead to Andreas and Rosalind finding out. Sky swears they were going to tell him eventually, and Riven has to tell him that he's glad they didn't. That's when Sky tells him what he'd already guessed. It was Musa who refused to tell him even after time has passed, sensing that something was wrong in his mind. Her being in their room the other night had been no mistake, but an orchestrated move. She'd practiced with Dowling for weeks, training to unlock his brain, pull it apart so that she could mentally remove Rosalind's control from his brain by sheer willpower and might, and then put it all back together as best she could. 

He's instinctively proud of her, she did it. But, he also wishes she'd done it with less kissing and in some less distracting attire, but he probably deserves the type of torture that will surely follow as a result of last night. After they fill him in, Sky throws his gear at him and tells him to get dressed and ready.

"We leave tonight."

"What? Where are we going?"

"That's a bit complicated." It's Dowling who answers this time. "Silva and Professor Harvey will meet us in the woods beyond the barrier. We will lead you the rest of the way. We're going to collect forces. There will be a war, and Rosalind will know that something is wrong when you miss your nightly meeting with her for the second time in a row. The Winx suite is already with Silva and Ben. They're waiting for us."

They leave the dorms using Stella's ring, which she has given to Dowling as a backup to her magic, which Rosalind is be able to track within school grounds. When they arrive to the location in the woods, Riven is only slightly surprised to find Sam among the girls. He's leaning on a tree, talking to Silva and his father, both of which look like they haven't slept for days. The girls are gathered together by a fallen tree. Musa is in the middle of them, huddled into herself, as Terra and a new girl with brown skin and long honey-brown hair rub her back. Stella, Bloom, and Aisha stand back, watching Musa with worry evident in their eyes. 

It's Stella who notices them first. She wipes the worry off her face with mastered ease that only comes with practice, straightens up her back, shoots Musa a look and calls loudly, "There you are! Took you guys long enough!"

From then on, it’s a quick fill-in on what the plan is, an awkward introduction to the Harvey cousin whose name he can't remember because his mind was too stuck on the girl whose hair is back in those buns he managed to loosen yesterday, and a small little "welcome back to the good side" before they're trekking their way through the woods.

He stands behind her the whole time. Watches as she follows the professors, but stands at the tail end of the line the girls have formed. She looks tired, the bags under her eyes tell him that the girls have probably been out here all night. He wonders how much of her energy it took to tear and mend his brain, if anyone bothered to let her rest after she did it. He wishes he was braver, wishes he could walk up to her and… what, thank her? Ask her why she did it? Why kiss him and then cure him? She could have just as easily done it while he was asleep. He bides his time, observes as one by one the girls take turns standing next to her, linking their arms with hers, smiling down at her, whispering who knows what in her ear and earning a laugh form her every now and then. He likes her laugh, it's cute.

He's currently watching as Bloom pull Musa to her and makes some joke about chickens, when he feels a punch land on his right arm.

"Are you as stupid as you look?" He turns to find that Stella has somehow walked backwards and is now next to him.

"Missed you too, princess," he mutters back.

"Oh, cut the bullcrap, Riven. You've been staring at her for the last two hours and I told her I wouldn't say anything but honestly, you two are hopeless. I've never met two people so oblivious in my life."

"I don’t know what you're talking about." he starts.

"Like shit you don't. If you don't know it yet, figure it out." And just like that she's running ahead and linking her right arm with Musa's as Bloom tries for another joke, this one about pigs that fly.

He tries to ignore Stella's stupid comment. Honestly, he figures it's probably safer to stare at her and look like a total creep than try to talk to her and make sense of his feeling about who the fuck knows what anymore. But Stella's words ring through his mind and he lets himself believe that maybe, just maybe…

In the end, he convinces himself that the reason he walks up to her once Bloom goes to hold Sky's hand and Stella moves in on the new girl to make conversation is because Stella offered him a challenge, and he likes to win at those. (He's heading straight for a loss, he's fully aware of that, but whatever.) 

"Long time no see," he jokes when he reaches her side. She cranes her neck up at him, not surprised to see him.

"Thought I heard your loud-ass emotions coming closer."

"Yeah, I've been told they can be quite the riot." He shoots her a smirk and she smiles up at him.

"Who told you that?"

"Oh, you know. Just some girl."

"Some girl, huh?"

"Yeah. Then she gave me a good snogging before tearing my brain to pieces without my knowing it."

"Mmm. She seems like a handful."

"Tell me about it." Her eyes fall downward and he doesn't need to be an empath to see the gears turning in her head.

"I'm sorry," she starts, "About that. I didn't want to do it, I know you have me reading your emotions."

"Yeah, but I hated having them controlled by someone else even more…" There's a pause and he quickly moves to fill it, scared that whatever courage juice that's coursing through his veins will run out soon. "Thank you, by the way." And he means it. He hopes she can sense the sincerity coming from him because he only has so many words in his vocabulary when it comes to her and fears he's already run out of them when she turns to look at him once more.

They've fallen behind the group at this point. He figures he won't get the chance to do this again for a while, so he asks her the question that been running rampant through his mind. It's pathetic, really. They're headed to god knows where to do god knows what and instead of worrying about the fact that war is coming or even being slightly concerned that he's just had his mind abused and prodded around by an evil mastermind, his biggest worry is if this girl really wanted to kiss him or if she just did it for show.

"So, umm, just so we're clear… did you mean it?" If he felt dumb thinking it, he feels like a world-class idiot saying it out loud.

"Mean what?" She stares back at him intensely, and he thinks to himself in an amused manner that they seem to be making a habit of staring at each other for longer than average periods of time. "The part about you being loud? Cuz, yeah, I meant every word. You're a walking catastrophe." She's smirking at him. He rolls his eyes her words.

"Couldn't care less about that. In fact, I'm glad my emotions are as obnoxious as I am- means they've been driving you crazy for a while now." Her smile falters a bit at that line. "What I want to know," he continues. "Is if you kiss everyone whose mind you go digging into like that." He still has not taken his eyes off her, and he's not going to start now, when she blushes and ducks her head under the collar of her red bomber jacket.

"That was a… last minute choice."

"What for?"

"I had to get close enough to you to make contact. I've only been practicing with Dowling for a few weeks and I didn’t want to screw it up. I can't really do the whole mind thing without some sort of contact just yet…" Her words drift off.

"Hand holding didn't cut it? Had to go for a full make-out session, complete with lip biting and everything?" He watches as she shivers into her coat, arms wrapped around herself.

"You would've pushed me away."

"How did you know I wouldn't push you away while kissing me?" She mutters something under her breath. He doesn’t catch it, not between that stupid jacket that she's using to shield her face. He gently takes a step forward, catches her chin between his fingers just as he had done the night before, makes her meet his eyes. "Come again?"

She sucks in a breath, her eyes waver to something behind him when she finally lets it out, "We both know you weren't going to say no to me throwing myself at you."

"And if I did?" He doesn't know who he's kidding, but it’s still a game and he's still playing to… lose?

She's still staring behind him when she frowns and says, "Then we would have seen just how great this shirt would have looked on your bedroom floor, after all."

And goddamn it, her words send his blood boiling. He's about to kiss her senseless, but he refuses to do it if she's not staring at him when he asks one last question.

With his finger still hooked under her chin and them standing mere inches away, he whispered into the air between them, "Look at me, Musa."

Her eyes slowly move to meet his. He gives up his last question, which just so happens to be his first, "Did you mean it?" And when her small "Yes" makes its way through her lips as her steady brown eyes catch his green ones, that's all the confirmation he needs.

His finger leaves her chin and moves to her head and then he's pulling her in, closer and closer and closer until she's all he can feel and smell and see and breathe. And she responds with the same vigor she used last night, wasting no time to wrap her arms around his neck and lock him to her. It's a new kind of game, one where they battle for dominance until they both run out of breath and need to break free. It makes him stronger, it breaks him down, it makes him wonder why the hell he ever wanted to win against her when he could instead let her win and lose himself to her as he is right now. And when his hands pull the pins from both buns from her hair as he kisses down her neck, she groans in half pleasure and half annoyance.

"I'll have to fix them again now," she whines, pouting her bottom lip out, which he takes as an invitation to bite and pull on it.

"You'll manage. Let me just have this now. I've been waiting a while to see you with your hair fully down." She scoffs but lets him stare at her in awe once he finds it in him to pull back from her lips in order to get a view his handiwork.

And to think, it all started with some fucking pigtails.

#rivusa #fate the winx saga #fate the winx club #musa #musa fate #riven #riven fate

[yuzukult]

—saccharine

pairing: seokjin x reader word count: 2,319 prompt: seokjin doesn’t believe in love at first sight. so... what’s this feeling that’s churning in the pit of his stomach when he meets you for the first time? warnings: none. minor cursing. fluff attack. a/n: to celebrate my follower milestone! thank you all for supporting and reading my fics, it means a lot to me!

Everyday is a continuous, recurring cycle. 

First, the alarm rings. Then, he slams the snooze button on his phone before resuming into a light sleep for another eight minutes. The annoying horn sings again, and a wash of regret hits from never changing it out of the default, so he finally accepts this by getting up and sliding his feet lazily into a pair of slippers by the side of his bed before making way into the bathroom.

His hair is a mess. But it’s a mess everyday. Life has gone to the point that even brushing his teeth has become a dreadful chore. Shuffling through his bin of hair products, he finds the mousse he consistently loses and finds on repeat and then slaps a boatload of it onto his head.

This is basically a day-in-the-life of Kim Seokjin. Except it’s everyday. It’s never ending. It feels like one of those time loop movies where when he ends his day, it starts back off exactly like it did yesterday. 

To be fair, he can’t complain. He’s got a roof over his head, an apartment all to himself (that means without a roommate), plus a well-paying full time job. It’s hard to whine and cry about how his life seems to have no excitement, other than the occasional meeting with his friends, but contrarily… there’s not much to look forward to.

It’s the same mundane activities. Opening the cabinet above his kitchen counter as he usually does at this time, he grabs his favorite Cheerios. Good starts with happy hearts, as their commercials say, but Seokjin isn’t entirely sure that’s true. 

He’s a “cereal first and milk last” kind of guy. Not that he judges those who do it backwards, but he thinks if anyone does the routine in the opposite order, they might actually be backwards. It’s a condition—he makes it seem, and it’s a rather controversial topic for the guy.

Nonetheless, he enjoys his bowl of breakfast goods. He reads the news on his phone, and when the reminder on his watch dings, Seokjin rushes to put his dishes into the sink and hauls himself down the hall, in direction to his walk-in-closet that evidently is just too big for it being only himself. It’s a constant indication that he’s alone. 

By the time it’s 8:30AM, he’s dressed in his suit and tie, hair slicked back, and has a satchel slung over his shoulder in preparation of yet another day at the office.

But maybe he’d stop by that new place this morning. Change of pace. Maybe it’ll liven up his day and give him something to look forward to. Maybe he’d like it.

The place is around the corner, less than a three minute walk the moment he leaves his apartment building, and if he timed himself, it probably takes longer to leave his home and out of the building. The shop is cute; decor stickers are laid out delicately along the windows, the walls are painted a pretty blush pink, and there’s smiles on all the workers’ faces as if they enjoyed being there.

There’s a smile on your face in particular that captures his attention.

Seokjin is a relatively kind guy, or so he thinks he is. He’s never pinned over girls like those shows he’s seen on TV, but he’s had his fair share of relationships. He’s not shy, but he’s also not outgoing. He has an abundance of friends but only a few are ones he trusts. 

And the girlfriends he had were great but… no one really appreciates his generosity as much as he’d like.

He thinks he’s crazy at this moment, quite frankly, because he doesn’t believe in love at first sight. It’s this theory and idea that writers of a romance genre film and story that people whipped up together to make it seem more appealing to their audiences. But he doesn’t actually think it’s true.

Or is it?

Hair up in a messy bun, there’s a swipe of flour that coats your one cheek, and a smile that dresses your face so beautifully. You’re in a simple outfit that’s a combination of a white tee and blue jeans with the shop’s apron on top, while running around to keep up with all the orders coming through. He has hearts brimming in his pupils and he can’t seem to stop the way his chest tightens the second he lays his eyes on you. Is this what love at first sight is?

Seokjin doesn’t only regret not changing the default ringtone of his alarm this morning. He also regrets not asking for your number.

When he reaches his office, he realizes he forgets to ask for cream and sugar at the bakery. The dark, warm liquid glides down his throat with some difficulty; the bitterness layering his tongue but the memory of you sparks sweetness from within. Who were you? He doesn’t even know you and you’re on his mind like crazy.

Now, Seokjin has seen How I Met Your Mother. He’s watched the nine seasons, totaling out to two-hundred and eight episodes, so needless to say, Seokjin knows what goes on in that show. And ironically, he hates Ted. The guy is a hopeless romantic that thinks every girl he has his eyes on is ‘the one.’ Seokjin refuses to become like Ted, and he would be caught dead replicating those same actions.

Then why the fuck is he caught up on a girl he’s seen once? 

The second time Seokjin comes by the bakery, it’s a hell of a lot less busy. In fact, it’s only three people that man the storefront, rather than the six that he saw the first time he stopped by. He has his fingers crossed behind his back as he waits in the queue patiently, hoping you’d be the one taking his order this time around.

Luck must be on his side because you’re greeting him with those pearly white teeth. “Good morning, nice to see you. What can I get for you today?”

Abort, abort! He can’t talk. He swears that his heart has found its way up into his throat, and he can’t get any words to come out.

You blink. Those gorgeous long lashes brush your cheeks so deftly, and it swells his heart that’s now lodged in the path of his airways. “Sir?”

Seokjin swallows. “Oh—yeah, sorry sorry. Uh, can I get a medium hot coffee? Cream and sugar, please. Forgot to mention that last time and I almost died from the bitterness.” Was that an appropriate comment to make? Did it make you laugh? Or were you offended that he just insulted your workplace’s coffee

He cheers in success on the inside when a soft chuckle escapes from your lips. “Aw, I’m sorry to hear. I guess we should have also done our part and asked if you wanted any. Did you want to order anything else?”

Ah. Was the conversation already ending? But it’s so soon! He barely held the dialogue for a couple seconds, and since he’s got your attention, he can’t let go now. Quickly, his eyes skim the menu and the display case full of baked goods. “Uh, what do you recommend?” He asks, gesturing to the sweets. 

You wave your hand for another coworker to take the next customer’s order. Walking over to the sweets, Seokjin trails over as well, observing your expression. You’ve got your brows furrowed, deep in thought with a quirk of the side of your lips, engrossed with the plentiful of options. “Do you like tarts?”

—

Seokjin is a regular now. 

Whenever the clock strikes 7:30AM, he’s already in his work attire, hair at its best, and has checked his face in the mirror for the fiftieth time. Then, he’s on route to the corner bakery.

He wants to look good before he meets you. Handsome guy for a pretty girl. It’s only right.

The bells at the front door of the shop ring loudly the moment he enters in, and immediately his ears are filled with that beautiful laugh of yours, but you’re not alone. It’s accompanied by someone else’s, a voice that doesn’t match any of your other coworkers and his jaw clenches at the thought. Who is this male that claims to be the purpose of your giggling with a mop he calls hair on the top of his head?

“Oh!” You beam, lifting up the cup of hot coffee in hand. “Seokjin! Come here, I have a new pastry for you to try, and your daily caffeinated beverage to pair it with. Plus, I want you to meet my friend.”

His name is Taehyung. The freaking guy looks like a model, strutting into the café like it’s his runway, and when his gaze meets Seokjin’s, it makes Seokjin feel small.

Seokjin likes you, if the amount of times he comes in a week is evidence for it. He doesn’t just do that either; he often stirs up a conversation, asks how your day is going so far, and even goes out of his way to remember small details so he can bring it up next time. But he can’t help but wonder—do you have a boyfriend? Are you being kind only because Seokjin is a customer? Or are you normally this sweet as those raspberry filled pastries you set him up with? 

And those questions are only emphasized when Taehyung smiles, extends his hands and offers Seokjin a firm shake. “I’m Taehyung.”

Seokjin’s entire work day has gone to shit. All he could think about was who Taehyung was and why you were so adamant about Seokjin meeting him. 

After taking the last bite of the delicious pastry you packed for him (free of charge, too), it hits him. 

If Seokjin liked you, he should just confess his feelings, no matter what the consequences. Instead of sitting here with his shoulders slouched, eating this treat you gave him with a pout upon his lips, he shouldn’t continue waiting around and feeling sorry for himself anymore. Why would he make himself suffer like this when there’s a way to end this vicious cycle? 

Seokjin concludes that he’s going to confess tonight. 

—

What Seokjin learns about you is that you are by far not close to his ideal dream girl. 

You’re the “milk first, cereal last” gal, and he believes you’re ass backwards. You like consistency, and your favorite ringtone is the sound of those stupid horns he has for alarms in the morning. You enjoy the first few hours of your day, basking in the routine that you’ve put together yourself, including the one that had recently involved seeing Seokjin’s face. 

And although you’re not his dream girl, you’ve become it.

“I like you,” He finally confesses, a bouquet of flowers in his hands that match the decor stickers plastered on the shop's windows. “Would you… go out with me?”

Seokjin isn’t here in the mornings like he normally is, opting that since this is definitely a change of pace, he might as well go all out. Maybe this will be different. Maybe he’ll be happier.

Stunned, your mouth drops open. You’re stuttering over your own words, practically malfunctioning like a machine. ��Wha—Like—what? Like… you like me as in like… a woman? More than a friend? You want to take me out?”

“Uh,” Seokjin scratches behind his ear anxiously. Was his plan backfiring? “Yes? I… like you. As in, I come here in the mornings for coffee, yeah, but I mostly came to see you. I enjoy hearing your laugh, seeing your smiles, and listening to you talk about these pastries like they’re your world and I—“ He pauses, inhaling a sharp breath, “—then you introduced me to this really good looking guy named Taehyung and I didn’t know what my chances were with you anymore, so here I am. Confessing.”

You’re silent. Truthfully, Seokjin’s not feeling good about this. His palms are sweaty, his heart is racing, and you still haven’t said a word and he’s sure that over thirty seconds have already passed by.

“What—“ You start again, quickly stopping yourself with a shake of your head. “Thank god, really.”

The front of Seokjin’s brows dip in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

You laugh, combing your fingers through your loosened locks. “I’ve been trying to tell my coworkers that I had this stupid crush on you since you first came in. You’re such a great listener, you’re handsome, and fun to talk to. They think you’re too good to be true, so they thought you wanted to be my gay best friend. Hence… the Taehyung test.”

“The Taehyung test?” Seokjin reiterates. 

Chewing on your bottom lip, your eyes are swirls of apologies. “He’s cute, right? Either you’d get jealous that a guy like him has my attention and you like me, or you like him and you’re jealous that he’s making me laugh instead of you.”

Seokjin’s shoulders drop in relief. “So… does that mean you’ll go out with me?”

You smile softly. “Of course, Jin.”

He doesn’t think those mundane activities he identified before are boring anymore. No, not with you, they’re not. He doesn’t mind watching you pour milk instead of cereal first in the mornings because he’s glad he gets to be the one who pinches your side teasingly and call you a weirdo. He doesn’t hate the sound of the horns—okay, a lie, he hates it so much, but they’re bearable when you’re around since you don’t hesitate to shut it off the minute it rings, and immediately hop out the bed, without using the snooze button. Brushing his teeth is a delight, especially when he sees your toothbrush sitting in your own designated cup on your side of the sink.

Everyday is a continuous, recurring cycle. 

But Seokjin doesn’t mind those things if it’s done with you. 

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