#no tea or shade towards anyone though

[spooky-holtz]

Sicilian Scheming

Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Genre: pure fluff

Word Count: 3.4k

Prompt: "I seen you were looking for ideas for fics and was wondering if you’d write one where Mellisa’s Nona comes to visit her at Abbot during summer planning where she meets teacher Reader and essentially forces them to go on a date together even though they don’t get along well but they end up really hitting it off then a time skip to their wedding where Nona’s bragging about getting them together?"

I've diverted from the prompt a little but the core of it still stands. Strap in.

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

Make no mistake, you absolutely love teaching the third grade but by the time summer comes around, you’re glad to see them go. Summer vacation gives you a chance to relax and enjoy your time away from the stuffy brick building that is Abbott Elementary, spending weeks at a time curled up on the window ledge of your apartment basking in the sun with a good novel and often a crisp glass of wine.  

You rarely get chance to see your co-workers save for the coffee dates you have with Janine, often meeting the smaller woman around the corner from her home to sit and chat in the large glass windows as the rest of the world passes by. You spend hours at a time chatting about anything and everything your rather uneventful lives have thrown at you, fingers curled around a sweating glass of flavored iced tea. These breaks are always among the highlights of your year, giving you a chance to wind down and refresh ready for the next group of kids that you will take under your wing.  

By the time the summer break winds down though, you’re eager to get back to school and see your dysfunctional work family. There’s nothing you love more than the first day after weeks apart, hearing all about Barbra’s annual cruise with Gerald, or Jacob’s latest mission to get himself “down with the kids” - it usually involves some god awful Tik Tok trend that he should NOT be doing, but you don’t have the heart to stop his rather spirited approach to engaging with his students.  

You love these conversations but there is somebody else that you find yourself searching for the second you step foot through the green doors of Abbott; Mellisa Schemmenti. The older woman has become an infatuation for you, her rigid exterior always melting when you interact. She knows exactly how you take your coffee, always leaves a seat open for you during meetings, and takes every opportunity to compliment your appearance - whether it's a new pair of earrings, or a slightly different shade of hair dye, Melissa will always notice.  

She makes you feel special in the smallest ways, always leaving you with the hope that she might actually like you back. It feels juvenile and you can’t help but imagine yourself as one of the kids you teach every day, sending heart eyes across the room at each other at any given chance, just waiting for her cheeks to flush and that small, suppressed smile to appear on her glossed lips.  

Your crush is no secret, but you would never tell anyone - well, except Janine who had managed to guess exactly why you get so nervous around the older woman after a few glasses of wine at the last faculty holiday party. You didn’t have to say anything; your longing looks toward the redhead on the other side of the teachers’ lounge as you nursed a plastic cup full of cheap alcohol was enough to prompt your friend to ask. You could never lie to Janine’s puppy dog eyes, especially not with a buzz courtesy of the liquor store across the street.  

You can’t help but let your thoughts drift toward thick Philly accents as you sit in the gym on the first day of school, squashed between Jacob and Janine and caught directly in the middle of their conversation about whatever new Netflix documentary series dropped last week. You’re really trying to listen, but your thoughts are consumed by bright red curls and glittery lip gloss, not true crime documentaries.  

You find yourself scanning the room as the pair babble on and you notice that the seating arrangement is half empty as you wait for the rest of the faculty to arrive and for Ava to take the stage for yet another development week speech that will go down in infamy at Abbott. She’s already poked her head from behind the curtain on the stage twice, clearly impatient to make her grand entrance to a group of less than willing participants.  

You begin to hear the telltale sound of heeled boots clicking against the linoleum floor and you feel yourself freezing into place just as Melissa waltzes into the hall, Barbara in tow. You don’t know if you’re impressed or terrified at her ability to constantly wear those shoes and the thought makes you realize that you’ve never actually seen Melissa at her normal height. 

Just as you suck in a deep breath, her eyes scan the room and instantly land where you sit, sandwiched between two of your rather enthusiastic co-workers. As her green eyes meet yours you see them shrink at the smile she sends your way, her pearly white teeth cutting through the shiny pink lip gloss she’s always wearing. You send a similar smile back, overjoyed at the fact she merely noticed you. God help your heart rate when she decides to talk to you for the first time in two months.  

Your attention is pulled away by Barbara, who waves enthusiastically from behind Melissa, making her way toward the empty seats directly in front of you. Your eyes dart back to Melissa as she follows the billowing of the older woman’s cardigan, heels still impossibly loud against the floor. 

The dark button down she’s sporting is tight against her torso, the sleeves rolled up to reveal her deceptively toned forearms. You have to remind yourself to look away for a split second, the thought of getting caught ogling her by one of your co-workers forcing you to tear your eyes away. You look toward Janine who has trailed off her conversation with Jacob, the pair watching you and Melissa like a tennis match. You feel your shoulders slump at Jacob’s knowing look, the excitement practically making him vibrate.  

“You’re kidding, you know too?” You sigh. 

“Uh yeah, you don’t exactly hide the heart eyes,” he scoffs. He must see the deer-in-headlights expression on your face because he continues, “I wouldn’t worry, she was definitely just throwing them right back at you.” 

You have no time to reply as the subject of the conversation reaches the row of seats in front of you, sitting in the hard plastic chair and turning her torso to see you, hand resting on the back of her seat. Her smile is wide again as she looks to you. The panic brews in your throat and your palms instantly become sweaty at the prospect of Melissa feeling the intensity of your feelings.  

“Hey hun, it’s been a while,” she says, her eyes still crinkled from the smile she wears. Her focus is entirely on you, ignoring the duo that sits on either of your sides.  

“Yeah, it has,” you manage to stammer out, “How’ve you been? You look good.”  

You inwardly cringe at your words but you’re not lying. She’s obviously had her hair dyed ready for the new school year and it’s even brighter than usual, making her even easier for you to pick out of a crowd. She looks so full of life and at ease, the break clearly having done her well. Her smile grows impossibly wider at your compliment, putting you instantly at ease.  

“It was great,” she replies. “Spent a lotta time at the beach with my family, so I’m not as pasty as you may have remembered.” 

She throws a wink your way with the last statement, causing a pink blush to cover your cheeks within seconds. What you wouldn’t give to actually see Melissa at the beach, totally relaxed on a sun lounger with a drink in hand. The image turns your cheeks an even deeper shade of red and Mel clearly catches on, her smirk letting you know that she knows exactly where your thoughts have gone.  

Before you even have chance to reply, Ava makes her grand entrance from behind the curtain to a chorus of groans that echos throughout the room.  

You can feel Janine’s elbow nudging into your side, your friend having had a front row seat to your entire interaction with the redhead. The action earns her a swift kick to the ankle under her seat, accompanied by a hissed “don’t you dare”.  

The meeting is over almost as quickly as it begins, Ava rushing back to her office to catch the latest episode of Real Housewives - she didn’t explicitly say it but you all know that’s the only reason she would be running back down the hall. You won’t complain though because it means you can get started with your work to prepare your classroom for the year ahead. You stand from your seat alongside Jacob and Janine and have all intentions of getting back to work when Melissa turns around again. Her emerald eyes stop you in your tracks, mid-stretch, your arms flexed above your head.  

“I never got the chance to tell you earlier, but I really like your dress,” she says, completely catching you off guard. Your hands fall, hanging limply by your side and brushing against the floral fabric of your clothing. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t wear it specifically to catch her eye this morning. The soft smile she wears on her face makes your heart melt, the look on her face only reserved for you. “It's real pretty.” 

You both stand there for a few seconds, blushing like lovesick teenagers and staring into each other's eyes when a throat clearing brings you back to reality. Janine claps her hands together, flustered by the interaction.  

“Okay, I’m gonna get back to my classroom and, uh, get started on cleaning. Have a good day guys!” She calls as she walks away with Jacob in tow, enthusiastic as ever as he throws a thumbs up your way. You know that within five minutes of leaving the school gym she’ll be in your classroom waiting for the rundown on what the hell just happened between you and Melissa, as if she didn’t see it all happen from inches away. At this rate, you wouldn’t be surprised if Jacob shows up with a bag of popcorn to join in with the gossip session.  

“Oh shit, yeah, I need to clean before Nonna shows up,” Melissa mumbles, “I don’t wanna even think about the earful I’ll get if my classroom is a mess.” She doesn’t even stop to think before she turns on her heel and practically runs out of the gym and down the hall toward her classroom. You don’t have time to process her words before her best friend speaks.  

“Well, I guess that just leaves us,” Barbara says from her place next to where the redhead stood. She wears a gentle smile on her face that will always help you feel at ease. She reaches her arm out to you, linking your arm within hers as she turns to walk. “Come on honey, I’ll walk you to your room and tell you all about the cruise I had with my Gerald.”  

After a rather lengthy conversation about ‘Sea Barbara’ and her less-than-christian antics, you’re back at your door for the first time in months and can’t help but feel like you’re home. Nobody particularly likes their job but that couldn’t be further from the truth for you. Already, you’ve planned out the next year and can’t wait to welcome your little Eagles back into the classroom.  

It’s a full hour later by the time you actually hear another person’s voice - Janine chose to keep her distance but will no doubt grill you about Melissa at some point today. It’s just a matter of when.  

You hear the signature clicking of her heels before you can see her, her footsteps considerably slower than usual. You can hear her talking as she walks, though you can’t make you exactly what she’s saying. The footsteps grow louder and slower before you hear a knock against your doorframe, the door propped open by a thick stack of textbooks that you’ve wedged in front of it in a desperate attempt to get some airflow in the stuffy room.  

The sound makes you whip your head from where you stand on your stepladder, stapler and crepe paper in hand as you put together a display for the kids. You know exactly who will be standing there, already smiling as you turn and meet her eyes.  

“Hey Hun,” she says, “I’ve got someone here who wanted to really meet you.”  

For the first time you notice the presence beside her. You don’t need to take any guesses that this is Melissa’s infamous Nonna, the older woman clearly having stamped her grandchildren with her genes - she looks exactly how you imagine Melissa would in her old age, her hair silver and leaning gently on a cane.  

“Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti!” she exclaims, making you jump and stand up straighter, terrified at the prospect of already being on her bad side. You climb down from the ladder as she stares at you, smoothing your hands down the front of your dress in an effort to get rid of any creases that may have formed during the morning. “You said she was pretty, but not this pretty!”  

You feel your shoulders relax as you laugh at the older woman, taken aback, Melissa by the side of her groaning loudly with a “Nonna, really?” You move toward the pair holding your hand out to shake the wrinkled one of the grey-haired lady before you. Her fingers are adorned by the same kind of jewelry that Melissa wears, her Sicilian heritage extremely clear from the large signet rings that she wears across her hands.  

“And there’s no mistaking that you must be Nonna,” you grin, introducing yourself. “I’ve heard a lot about you. You’re like a living legend around here.” She closes her hand around yours, the other still gripping her cane.  

“Pretty and complimentary?” She remarks, turning to look at her granddaughter whose face has managed to turn the same colour as her hair. “Well, you kept a lot quiet about this one.” 

You can’t help but look at Melissa at this statement, catching her eye and smiling even wider, Nonna’s remarks already making your grin impossibly wide. Her brow relaxes itself slightly, the hard lines around her eyes softening when she sees the pure joy on your face at finally getting to meet the woman you’ve heard so much about over the last few years.  

“I’m not sure if I want to hear exactly what you know about me,” you joke to her, catching Melissa’s eye yet again. The poor woman looks unbelievably flustered but it's a welcome change in your dynamic. She usually gets to revel in the fact that you turn into a puddle in her presence, but now you can only hope to add to the quickly darkening hue of her cheeks.  

“Trust me, you do. This one doesn’t shut up about you,” she says, smiling slightly and cocking her head toward Melissa who is actively wishing that a sinkhole would open up beneath her feet. She lets go of your hand and moves further into the classroom, leaning ever so slightly on her stick but still moving with all the confidence of your favourite Schemmenti woman - at least you know where Melissa gets it from now.  

Your eyes dart to Melissa, the older woman already looking back at you with a silent apology in her eyes her teeth worrying her bottom lip. You reach out and rub the top of her arm over her shirt in a small act of comfort, letting her know that this entire situation is doing nothing but working in her favour.  

“Ya know, it’s nice seeing something other than my Melissa’s classroom or the reception desk at this school for once,” Nonna says, almost speaking to herself. She looks around the room almost in awe, taking in the displays in various degrees of completion around the room.  

You follow her further in, Melissa hot on your tail behind you. She’s so close that you feel her almost walk straight into your back as you stop closer to the older woman, her once intimidating heels stuttering slightly on the wooden floor.  

“So, tell me,” Nonna begins, turning in place to face you, “What brought a girl like you to Philly? I know you’re not a local.” Her eyes twinkle as she asks, and you have a sneaking suspicion that she already knows the answer to her question from the tales her granddaughter has seemingly told her about you.  

“I just wanted a change,” you answer honestly. “I only thought I’d be here a couple years, but it’s been five and I can’t see myself leaving any time soon.” 

At your statement you hear Melissa sigh by your side. As your head turns to meet her gaze you see just how much it softened at your words. She knows just how much you love your job and the dedication you’re willing to put into making sure these kids make it. Year after year she’s been the one to help you draft lesson plans and mark countless piles of work over a mug of coffee in the teachers’ lounge, helping you when you feel slightly out of your depth in more ways than she could imagine. 

It’s only when she’s this close to your face that you can see the glittering of her lip gloss as she smiles slightly, her lips pulled together in a look that conveys so much softness.  

“Do you like Italian food?” Nonna asks, breaking the tense silence that has fallen between you. You feel the redhead beside you jump, both of you completely forgetting that her grandmother is just meters away from your little moment. You can’t answer quick enough, crying out for her approval and hoping that you can focus back from the incredible green eyes that are currently burning into the side of your head.  

“Oh yeah, I absolutely love an Italian,” you stutter out, “Can’t get enough.” 

You inwardly cringe at your words as you hear Melissa snicker by your side, Nonna’s eyes twinkling with amusement again. You hear a quiet “Bedda Matri” from Melissa through the giggles that shake her body.  

“I bet ya do,” Nonna says, her grin revealing her impossibly pearly white teeth. You can feel yourself getting warmer and you’re not sure if it’s from the stuffiness of your classroom and its broken windows or from the pure embarrassment radiating through your system. “You know, I taught Melissa everything she knows about Italian food. Maybe if you’re nice she’ll cook for you sometime.” 

Nonna’s eyebrows are raised as you turn to meet Melissa’s eyes, the older woman shrugging in your direction. It's nice to know you aren’t the only person completely lost in this conversation.  

“Oh, I know!” Nonna exclaims, making the pair of you jump yet again, “Melissa, how about you cook this nice girl the family baked ziti tonight? Say, 7 o’clock?”  

“Uh sure, if you don’t have anything on?” Melissa says, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion once again.  

“No no, I’m totally free,” you stammer, your cheeks matching the deep red of your co-worker's hair. “I’ve got your address too.” 

“Wonderful!” Nonna almost shouts, her shrill voice echoing off the semi-bare walls of your classroom. “You’re going to love it, trust me.” She says, throwing a wink your way.  

You don’t particularly want to admit that the smaller woman is, but you do love it. So much so that two years later you’re twirling around a dance floor in a lacy white dress, Melissa in a matching getup and shiny new diamond rings on your left hands. As Billy Joel croons the chorus of ‘Just the Way You Are’ from the speakers set up around the room, you hear a familiar voice chirp up from a table just out of reach of the dance floor.  

“You know, they would never have gotten together if I hadn’t practically knocked their heads together,” Nonna says, her voice carrying over the song as she explains her matchmaking services to Melissa’s Uncle Tony. You feel Melissa grin where her cheek rests against yours, your expression matching hers as you hear the older woman carry on. “I’m telling you now Anthony, this wedding wouldn’t even be happening if it wasn’t for me.”  

You feel Melissa begin to giggle where she stands, her hands resting against the lace at the small of your back, thumbs rubbing gently against the surface as you sway together. You hear Nonna carry on, adamant that the life you’ve built wouldn’t be possible if not for her, and as much as you don’t want to give her satisfaction, you both know she’s right.  

#wlw #self insert #reader fanfic #reader fic #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #writing #fluff #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fic #melissa schemmenti fanfic #lisa ann walter x reader #lisa ann walter fic #melissa schemmenti x y/n

[tearskillstardust]

❝ OF THOUGHT AND BIRTH DIVINE. ❞

001. 𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌—智慧之神。

Since antiquity, a word goes around in the lands surrounding the capital.

It's nothing new really, an old wives' tale—it has been passed from generation to generation by curious mothers who were once children themselves, having listened to the same story at least thrice from their own mothers before it was ultimately passed down to the next generation.

Your own mother had been shelling peas when she casually brought it up and you as casually dropped the vellum to listen in closer.

'They say the knowledge of prose and poetry is passed down by the God of wisdom, himself, and it is only from his generous blessing that one is able to find skill in these areas that leave most counting stars. '

You laughed, finding it as stupid as a donkey winning in a race of horses.

'Oh?' you questioned, and she passed a side-eye at your smug expression as you continued, 'And how much, pray tell, did you reminisce of', you sarcastically made exclamation marks in the air here, 'the God of wisdom, to have a child so blessed in the knowledge of poetry such as I?'

You did not have the right to complain when her hand playfully came to smack you at the side of your back, your father laughing as he came to settle next to you on the cot, having managed to find some free time from work only then.

'She's right, though, isn't she? Your child is blessed with the knowledge of poetry, why not appreciate it sometimes?'

Your mother passed a fond look before playfully pulling on your ear as you winced just as naughtily to provoke your father into taking your side—

'Aaah! Papa!'

'Don't listen to her! Arrogance keeps surfacing in this child's countenance!'

Your father laughs, affectionately freeing you from your mother as he handed you your vellum and secretively pointed towards his study.

He turns to your mother, 'You can't be like that with her anymore, love. She's grown and will marry away in some time, be kinder.'

Right, you think, rolling your eyes, finding the fun atmosphere deflating as you returned towards the study. You put away father's books from before—logs and registers detailing the exchanges of his store's valuables—absentmindedly staring at the feather in your hand as you played with its ink, making random pictures of flowers on the edge of you sheet.

If the restrictions put on all politically, especially the young who needed the most freedom of all, were not enough already, then there everyone was—putting more pressure socially.

Marriage was never a matter of casualty, if it occurred without inviting family from even the ends of the earth, then it was considered an unsuccessful one—and while you yourself were not big on having kids and romancing boys, the prospect of having a compatible, loving partner was not one that never crossed your mind.

Alas, you stared at the blank sheet with a more than bored look upon your features.

Inspiration was always hard to find.

Putting down your pen you rose with a sigh, gaze shaded with disappointment over inability to complete the poetry. What would rhyme with saccharine, anyway?

Mine?

No, you thought, turning towards the exit of the house without consulting anyone, only vaguely announcing to your father who sat on the cot, quietly enjoying his tea, as his gentle eyes traced your movements.

'I'll be back,' you said, and he nodded with a soft smile. Innocent, he was. Your father, that is. A man of simple but honest means, always smiling and finding joy in the basic things—your mother wasn't selfish herself, but she was certainly much cleverer than her husband.

You chuckled absent-mindedly, they were a cute couple. While most certainly were they a couple put together randomly by their families, they had accidentally ended up being the most compatible for each other than either would today admit. But when the moon danced with the clouds, it were their laughs of genuine amusement, arising from reminiscing old moments spent together, that softly sparked joy within your heart.

It was a tiny wish then, in the very corner of your heart, that if you end up marrying a noble man, then he too, be as lucky as your father had been for your mother.

Lost in thoughts, when the expanse to the lake had been covered, that you did not know but you headed straight towards the still water body. Sitting next to its very edge with a sigh, wallowing in self-pity as you sought to better your mood, you began thus, looking at your reflection in the still water—

'Often do lilies turn to me, hiding faces showered in glee. Shaded in shyness the orchids ask, where were you gone, Malika? and in my innocence I answer, to the devil's lair.'

Silence.

You broke out laughing, finding the poem less descriptive of your own self than it was of the orchid's undying curiosity as its vines spread their feet as far as they possibly could.

And while the poetry itself was a little less than mediocre in your eyes, someone else seemed to have been much too impressed for either of your best interests.

It was when you finally began preparing to rise, having had more than enough ideas to continue your work when he interrupted, both intrigued and upset as he spoke—

'Will you speak no more?'

You turned around quickly, and much to your embarrassment, did not manage to find the source of the voice until he scoffed again and waved his book boredly, 'Here, lady.'

You cocked a brow at him, 'I'm not a lady but you're definitely an auntie. Tell me, what is it?'

He curiously asked, voice managing to hide his internal desperation, 'Will you compose poetry no more?'

You looked him up and down and it was then that you managed to catch a proper glimpse of him as the clouds cleared, as though the Gods themselves were keen on enhancing his divinity, the crown of his hair shaded with pale yellow light.

He was young in appearance, perhaps even a girl's dream husband, but the stillness of his disposition and eyes spoke of a maturity which was rarely found.

You would've described him in fluent poetry, should you have had the patience or the time (or even interest), but just as quickly did the sun hide and the shadow fell upon him once again.

You breathed, and so did he.

You turned around with the attitude of a real Malika, 'No.'

'Why not?', came his answer, just as quick.

You rolled your eyes, turning back with an annoyed expression, 'Don't you know it's rude to listen on to people secretly?'

He sighed, 'Your voice is too melodious not to be listened to, Malika.'

You passed a dull expression, 'Lady to Malika, huh?', then rolled your eyes boredly, 'Chameleon.'

An amused smile stretched across his features, and if it didn't already seem as though the Gods had carved him out of the finest marble, then now it seemed as though sunlight poured from urns onto his ethereal features.

You blushed red at your internal monologue of his beauty.

Why did it matter, anyway?

People were never allowed to choose partners of their own, regardless they be lovers or not. Ideas of romance were better of printed on paper and sold off for gold—not for building your future on. Or so your mother said.

'Lost in thought?', he inquired, sitting up straight as he shut his book, yawning quietly before his gaze turned to meet yours once again.

'No, I know what I have to do.' you shook your head and turned away again, only to lulled in by the trap of his own voice once again.

'Please,' he said, desperate now, and you could not help but feel the smallest pang of shyness at his insistence. 'If not poetry, then talk about something. Anything.'

'Like?', you questioned once again, cursing your curiosity and intrigue with the young man once again. But who were you to deny yourself the simplicity of indulging in conversation with one so charming as him?

He smiled, but only innocence lay behind its drape. 'Like, what's your name?'

The cry of the cuckoo came to you on the wind.

You answered with a glittering smile, 'Y/n. And yours?'

He smiled back, just as illustrious in his wake. 'Al Haitham.'

If you were surprised at the scholarly name, you did not show it.

Silence ensued, in the midst of which none desired to speak. It was the first time you were with him in which he did not desire you to speak, but merely to smile as he watched on, as though unable to move on from the tantalizing spell of your gently tugged lips.

Squirrels curiously peeked from behind trees laden with fruits, as the curious sparrows lined up together in serenity, watching on. Even the mischievous macaque stopped for a moment's notice, taking a break from dropping half-eaten fruits into the water, for the pleasure of watching its surface ripple.

He spoke at long last—voice laced with unimaginable gentleness.

'Pray tell, what troubles you so? Did the poetess/poet not find enough inspiration for her/his work?'

You smiled gently, your heart just as calm as you were, as though under a spell. 'Indeed.'

He chuckled, 'Blessed with a moon-like face and still troubling yourself with inspiration?' he rose suddenly, humming thoughtfully as he came closer to you with a teasing smile.

'Just a suggestion', he said, smile never leaving his features, 'Why not write about how the sun fell for the moon?'

'Oh?', you asked, suppressing a smile at his implication, considering the way the sun seemed to sit right upon his head, as though a crown.

He nodded again, 'The way it so desperately tried to reach her,' his gaze flickered ever so gently towards your hands, 'only to be held back by the confines of the sky.'

'Confines of the sky or confines of its own rule?'

However romantic may the sentence itself might have been, the aura of gentleness contained in him never managed to leave, as though he knew nothing but gentleness for you.

His gaze softly brushed over yours and he pointed towards the small twig stuck in your hair, removing it when you nodded softly.

'Alas, the moon is much too a beauty to be forced into submission,' he playfully answered, 'The sun must find a way to reach her in the end.'

You winked at him, just as playful of nature, if not more. 'Well, he might have to do it quick then. For should the stars reach her before the sun does,' you softly poked his nose at that, 'then the sun will be left watching.'

His gaze glittered with adoration and love, as though he had never seen more beautiful a being. You flattered yourself and turned on your heel, walking away with a smile before his voice came to you once again—

'Will you meet me here tomorrow?'

You turned playfully, the wind playing with your hair, reflecting your saccharine mood.

'What if I don't?', you shouted back, and his laugh came on the wind,

'I'll wait for you regardless!'

And while the question of whether or not you would meet him by the lake the next day was one you would decide on spontaneously, it was magical almost when your pen seemed to simply glide in your hands. Words stringed like necklaces of pearl in quick succession—

You suddenly remembered your mother's tale and the young man, finding it funny how seemingly, a talent for writing was certainly not one that was bestowed upon personally by the 'God of wisdom', whomsoever might the deity behind the name be.

Unless, well, Al Haitham was the deity.

You chuckle to yourself at the prospect, impossible, you think to yourself, feather dipping in ink as you continued the verse.

And understanding with the snap of his finger, the thoughts swirling in your mind, Al Haitham smiles to himself contentedly.

Most often, love is found in the most unexpected of places.

Better it was that way—he laughs to himself as he thinks that.

Confessions of truth and identity would be a tough challenge, but what was love, if not a challenge itself?

Nonetheless, for now, your smile was more than enough for him.

taglist : @astrothingsiwillneed, @dollhwa, @franxx-law, @lovingami, @mxyarylla, @ichorstainedskin, @nezukoo-channn, @arisaturn, @moodybluesrequiem80, @sleepy-waffle, @angel-of-requiem, @maleniaswife, @imgonnacrackarib, @flilou02, @beloved-brynn, @confusedo-17, @3443652, @wolfiafuntime, @meimeimeirin, @dottoresil, @sleepy-waffle, @floraldresvi, @ayra2452008, @peachiimcha, @dumb-gemini, @sh1-j1m4, @sangoqueenkoko, @kokosheep, @apwing @cheezzyshhh @willbedecided, @darktypedreams, @urlocalheizousimp @neuviloved @stormyenglish-23 @ishiyii @reixtsu @scaranthropy @caffeineinjelly @mellowberrie

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #al haitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham #al haitham x y/n #al haitham x reader #al haitham x you #genshin alhaitham #al haitham fluff #🔱of thought and birth divine

[sonder-paradise]

𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐈𝐈 — 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭

◊ characters. diluc, childe, kaeya, zhongli, gn!reader

◊ genre. fluff, flustered boys bc i can (again)

— 𝐃𝐢𝐥𝐮𝐜 𝐑𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐫

honestly, it doesn’t take much for him to go a little red. he’s not exactly used to someone singing his praises so enthusiastically. he’s relaxing, for once. diluc finds comfort in your voice. it chatters on about the most mundane and ordinary things but it’s always so peaceful.

he zones out for a moment, admiring your features glowing under the warmth of the crackling fireplace. it’s not until you start talking about someone that he starts paying attention again. “and he’s just so handsome and admirable. i honestly don’t know what i’m going to do.”

diluc’s expression grows rather surprised as he tries remembering who you’re referring to. “he’s got such pretty red hair and very striking eyes,” you continue, smiling lovingly at him. at the description, diluc realizes you are referring to him of all people.

“oh? are you paying attention now? or shall i go on?” you remark, a playful grin decorating your lips. he can feel his face heat and it’s definitely not from the fireplace. “what? no of course not!” he exclaims, placing a gloved hand over his expression. how silly of him.

— 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞

it's the gentle moments when the world isn't looking that childe found himself vulnerable in front of you. you hold him after long days and he melts in your embrace oh so easily. small bits and pieces of laughter spill in between the two of you and he feels the weights lifting from him.

and as the night wanes, he’s sleepily resting his head against your chest and holding onto you tightly. he feels you stroke his hair back and just that simple action has his heart beating wildly. he can feel it thudding against his own chest and childe presses a gentle kiss to your collarbone.

“sweet dreams,” he whispers. you hum an answer tiredly, “love you, ajax.” the sweet sound of his name from your lips has him so utterly soft. it has him reeling in the mind and his heart doing subtle loop-de-loops. forget sleep, he can feel his face glowing in a flustered deep red. the tips of his ears tint with a gentle pink. he buries himself further into your chest, praying you haven't noticed his predicament.

despite his flushed cheeks, he looks up at you with an expression of awe. “say it again, sweetheart?” you chuckle softly, playing dumb. “say what again?” “my name. say it one more time for me.”

— 𝐊𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐚 𝐀𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡

longing is the most kaeya feels when you’re away. he finds himself immersed in silly daydreams and attempting not to glance out the window every other second. honestly he’s not used to feeling this way towards anyone.

he finds himself wandering into your shared room, taking in the silence of your invisible presence. it's light and airy; he feels as though he might finally sleep peacefully with the scent of your shampoo drifting through the misty dusk. kaeya lays down on your side of the bed, perhaps indulging in his longing a little too long.

"kae... ya?" you pause in the middle of his name, spotting your lover sleeping soundly on your side of the bed. your pillow is tucked in his arms, holding it gently. your return seems to have eluded his mind, but you lean down to admire his pretty features. your presence must have awoken him as well as he stirs to life in a daze.

he whispers your name, still resurrecting himself from his slumber. "i miss you so much. when are you coming home?" he murmurs, resting a hand on your cheek. you smile, kissing the inside of his palm. "i am home." he blinks once, twice, three times and suddenly he finds himself utterly flustered with himself. his eyes grow wide and he retracts his hand to hide his embarrassment. "i-i see... welcome home, my love."

— 𝐙𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢 

basking in the shade during the summer sun was truly a pleasure for the two of you. zhongli sips his tea quietly, admiring the subtle beauty of the vast region he had come to create. as per usual, you are by his side. and honestly, he wouldn't have it any other way. "oh, there's a leaf in your hair," you say, reaching up to rid him of the peculiar object.

he leans down slightly, allowing you to do as you please. "hmm, do you mind if i fix your hair?" you suggest, stroking his bangs fondly. zhongli shakes his head. "not at all." the smile on your face is all his needs when you move behind him, taking his hair out of its usual tie and smoothing it out with your fingers.

zhongli admires your touch, noting the way your fingers run through his hair and barely graze his neck. the feeling is rather ticklish and he finds himself jerking in and out of relaxation from it. "almost done," you murmur. in spite of himself, his cheeks grow rosy from the intimacy. rarely did he feel this vulnerable with someone. "take your time."

yet, he relished in the serenity of the moment. though he was rather thankful for the fact you were behind him as he hid the small, growing smile behind the rim of his teacup. not that he noticed you could see the tinge of pink growing on the tips of his ears.

Taglist: @xo-cuteplosion-xo @ik8 @nonsense-corner @ireallylikehamsters @cross-crye

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#[🖋] writing #diluc x you #diluc x reader #diluc fluff #childe x reader #childe x y/n #tartaglia x reader #kaeya x reader #kaeya fluff #kaeya x gender neutral reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #genshin zhongli #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact drabbles

[themidnightcrimson]

familiar ࿏ wm

summary: in which you are agatha's gift to wanda.

words: 6.1K

warnings: f!reader, magic, drugging, transfiguration, angst, captivity, meow meow, oral (r giving), fingering (r receiving), strap-on (r receiving), meow meow meow, witchcraft duh, i wish i was a cat, this is not a furry thing i promise

this post is for 18+ only. minors: dni.

masterlist.

It’s cold. You can feel the goosebumps rising on your skin, your body shivering as you come to.

It’s dark. You open your eyes and see nothing at first, nothing but total blackness in front of you. Something feels very strange, and a flare of anxiety roars in the pit of your stomach, your heart racing fast in your ears. You feel cold metal beneath you, and as your eyes adjust, you see the shape of metal bars in front of you.

A cage. You’re in a cage, and there is a blanket thrown over it. Leaning closer and blinking your eyes wildly, your focus comes to, and you can see through the veil of the thin blanket covering the cage. You only see shadowy hunks of furniture, a table covered with some sorts of tools and objects, a staircase nearby leading towards the only source of light. Your breath comes fast through your mouth, chest heaving as panic surges through you like electricity.

How did you get here?

You remembered being on your daily morning walk through the Westview suburban neighborhood. You did that every morning. It seemed like it was always spring in the little town, always sunny with cool breezes and chirping birds. You soaked up every second at the rise of dawn when the town was still sleepy and quiet.

You minded your business. You didn’t talk to anyone except for your neighbors, Wanda and Agatha. There was the occasional conversation on the street. Wanda’s hand waving politely to you from her porch as you passed by on your walks. Agatha helping herself to your front door, always visiting you and inviting you over, which oftentimes you declined just out of being antisocial.

They were both different shades of nosy neighbors. Agatha was confrontational and upfront, wanting to hold lengthy conversations every time she saw you, always snooping around and asking personal questions. Wanda was a different kind of nosy. She watched you from afar, always. You’d learned to live with their eyes on you, but you didn’t always mind Wanda’s. She seemed like a nice woman, though you hadn’t been able to understand why she seemed so interested in you. You also didn’t understand why you seemed equally interested in her.

That morning, Agatha had caught you on your morning walk right as you were quickly jogging past her house, wary of her stopping you as she always did. Of course, it seemed like she knew the exact schedule of your walks and came outside right as you passed.

“Why don’t you come in for tea, dear!” she had said, boldly grabbing your hands. You remembered how tight her grip was. “I make the best tea in town!”

You were tired of always declining her invitations. You didn’t want to seem rude. You were just the lonely girl next door who minded her business and didn’t want to get mixed up with anyone in town, but she was persuasive and consistent. So, you said yes. You went into her house and found it quaint but charming inside. She led you into the kitchen to make the first cup of tea, and you sipped it slowly as she talked about random things.

She offered to make you another, one to go that you could sip on your walk.

You remembered her saying in the kitchen that she didn’t have any tea left in there but kept some in stock downstairs in the basement. She ushered you to follow her so she could show you her wide tea collection. You remembered stepping down those concrete steps into cold darkness. You don’t remember ever seeing her tea collection.

Shivering in the cage, you tried to cross your arms around your body—something suddenly felt very strange to you. For the first time, you glanced down at yourself. At first, you thought you saw your normal hands and normal arms and legs. Your brain was used to seeing the same body every time it looked down, so it tricked you in the dark. As you looked closer, the horrifying realization washed over you as you realized that your hands were now small paws wrapped in black fur.

You tried to scream, but it was like something was wrong in your throat. You only let out an animalistic shriek, a sort of growling and hissing screech. You stumbled in the cage, your back hitting the metal bars. It was then you saw your cat tail, and your hind legs, and you could see the shadow of whiskers in the corner of your eyes, protruding from your own face.

Your entire body, much smaller now, trembled and shivered, and you could feel the line of fur rising stiffly on the strip of your back. What the hell happened to me?

Your heart rate was faster now, faster than you had ever heard it in your entire life, and your ears flinched and stretched as they picked up noises nearby. Your hearing was shockingly acute—you could hear birds somewhere above the ground, outside of the basement you were now caged in. You could hear a car drive past, the sound of a phone ringing in someone else’s house down the block.

You crumpled into the corner of the cage and bent your body into itself, dwindling your new body down into a pathetic ball. You could smell everything—the iron in the metal cage, the dust on the walls, perfumes of strange potion-like smells from inside the basement.

Then you heard the front door open inside the house upstairs. Your eyes widened, pupils constricting as your ears twitched to listen. Footsteps down the hallway, the muffled sounds of Agatha’s voice, then another’s.

Wanda’s voice.

Your tail fluffed up when you heard the heavy door to the basement squeak open. You wished you knew what time of day it was, but it was completely dark in the basement. You could just barely see through the blanket as two pairs of legs walked down the stairs and towards your cage. You tried to back further away, but your fur was touching metal.

“The entrapment itself wasn’t so difficult,” Agatha’s voice spoke languidly. It was so much different from how her voice usually sounded—endearing, pleasant, charming. It was harsh and deep now, like she had pulled off a mask and was happy to be her usual deviant self again. “A few drops of draught in her tea, and she surrendered.” Her harsh laugh hurt your ears.

She poisoned my tea? you thought to yourself, fear broiling hot and deep inside you. You didn’t know it was possible to feel this afraid.

“I will admit,” Agatha said as her and Wanda’s legs stopped right in front of the cage. “The transfiguration itself was…difficult. Her body resisted, the stubborn little thing. I thought maybe she’d do well as a bunny, or even a turtle… Well, I hope you’re not allergic to cats because…”

The blanket was suddenly lifted from the cage. Even in the dark basement, the adjustment of light burned your eyes, and you let out an instinctive hiss, jumping up on your legs and turning your side flat against the back of the cage, back and tail fluffed into black, pointy spikes of fur. You felt a flare of passion in how intimidating you probably looked, but as you looked up at Wanda and Agatha who towered over you like giants, you realized just how small you were now.

Agatha crossed her arms and looked disdainfully at you, pursing her lips in disappointment. Wanda, on the other hand, was staring down at you with wide, misty eyes, her mouth forming into a soft, “Oh… y/n.”

Your eyes darted between the two women, and the dark of the basement grew even brighter as your pupils swarmed wide, your vision throbbing with your own fear. Your entire body was quivering and tensing uncontrollably, your back starting to ache.

Wanda leaned down slowly so that she came closer to the cage. Through the bars, you saw the teary look in her eyes. “Is she… still…”

“She’s still there in the head, unfortunately,” Agatha said, looking at you like you were rodent. “I know that’s what you wanted.” There was venom in her voice, but then she sighed and spoke happily again. “This is your first step to becoming a proper witch, not that you need my help in the power area.” She clicked her tongue jealously. “But a familiar is necessary for a witch’s emotional wellbeing.” She looked over at Wanda, eyes flickering down her to try and read her.

You stared up into Wanda’s big green eyes that looked now like shimmering full moons. You wanted to scream, to ask them what the hell they were talking about, to undo whatever Agatha had done to you, but all you could let out was a little catlike whimper.

“Oh, baby,” Wanda cooed, “It’s okay. You’re okay. Don’t be scared.” She started to put her hand through the bars of the cage slowly, her fingers passing between the metal. A hot instinct struck you from the inside, and without thinking, you hissed and swatted your paw towards her hand. You felt your claws, which you didn’t even realize you had, tear at her skin.

Wanda gasped and withdrew her hand, clutching it to her stomach. You saw a long, jagged scratch mark on the back of her hand, and felt overwhelmingly shocked and guilty at how fast it started to bleed.

“Bad kitty!” Agatha exclaimed and kicked the cage. The jolting motion scared you and you lost balance, clambering to crawl back into the corner of the cage into a defensive little ball.

“No, it’s okay,” Wanda quickly said, looking up to Agatha. “She’s just scared.” She looked back to you, forgetting all about her hand which was now dripping blood on the floor. “Can she transform back…into human?”

Agatha subtly rolled her eyes. “Yes,” she said reluctantly, “But it would probably take me days to do it. It would involve a lot of magic—”

Wanda cut her off by raising her hand, red embers flowering between her fingers. You suddenly felt a strange motion inside you, your body stretching and skin changing as you started to swell in size. You squeezed your eyes shut and let out an ear-piercing snarl, and slowly it turned into a human scream.

It stopped, finally. You opened your eyes and found that suddenly the cage was too small for you, and Wanda and Agatha were normal size again. You looked down—you saw your human hands and arms and legs, your normal skin. You were human again, bent nakedly in the small cage. You wrapped your arms around your body to cover yourself.

Agatha looked shocked and infuriated at the fact that Wanda had so easily changed you back, after all the work Agatha had done to transfigure you. “Well…” She cleared her throat and adjusted her shirt. “Just do that when you want her to be a cat again.”

You shivered in the cold of the cage, too afraid to speak in fear that the only thing that would come out were unintelligible meows. Even now, back in your human state, you felt unimaginably different, like something had shifted in your DNA. You could still hear and smell everything, down to the metallic scent of the blood on Wanda’s hand, and the sound of her own heart beating to make up for the lack.

It shocked you how differently Wanda was looking at you compared to how Agatha looked at you. Wanda looked mesmerized, hopeful, and guilty all in one. Her eyes flickered over you, and she started to slide her hand through the cage again. You felt the urge to scratch her again, but you realized your claws were now dull fingernails, and you didn’t like the way you had so primally swatted at her and how easily she had bled.

“Kitten,” she whispered, bringing her hand to your face. You cowered away but she continued, gently moving your hair with the tips of her fingers. Something in you wanted to purr, but you didn’t. “I’ll call you Kitten.”

The first few days of being Wanda’s familiar were tough. While she politely kept you in your human form, she kept you in a cage in her bedroom, a larger one that you could fit in, and told you rather apologetically that she must keep you there until she can trust you. You were silent at first, pained and confused by what had happened to you, until you started to break. You grabbed at the bars of the cage and jumped at her, screaming, “Let me out! Please let me out!”

You could see how much her heart broke at your refusal and denial, but what did she expect? You had been captured and sold like a slave. Even then, screaming at her and shaking the bars of the cage like an animal, you could feel that something had been bonded between you. Something changed—not just within you, but between the two of you. There was some kind of link connecting you.

She would open her mouth to say something, outreach her hand to comfort you, but you would not stop screaming. So she flicked her hand, and you shrunk down into your feline form again, your screams turning into wily meows and screeches. She would throw the blanket over the cage again and leave you there until you stopped making noises, until your throat burned and you tired yourself out.

Eventually, you calmed. The realization began to sink within you that you had been living around witches and fallen dumbly into their trap. Wanda called Agatha a few times, and through the walls of the house you heard her speaking. “Maybe we shouldn’t have done this… No, I am grateful, Agatha, I know it took a lot for you…I just feel like she’s not happy…I know that it takes time, but… Okay.”

Within a week, you stopped lunging at her from the cage, and though you had refused the food she offered you at first, whenever you were in feline form you could not resist the fish and milk she offered you in little bowls, lapping hungrily as if it was the last thing you would ever eat. Eventually, while she fed you, you felt her reach through the cage and comb her fingers through the fur between your ears. You froze for a moment, but you acquiesced, continuing to eat and let her pet your head. It was soothing, more soothing than you’d like to admit.

She let you out of the cage during the day and kept you in human form, giving you her clothes to wear around the house. There was one rule that was obvious—no running away. Of course, you tried, but the entire house was hexed so that no one could get out or get in except for Wanda. You started to wonder what her intentions were for keeping you here. From her phone calls with Agatha, it was apparent that you were meant to be some sort of companion to her. But she hardly spoke to you, even when she let you out of your cage and you sat on the couch watching TV together.

The bond started to grow stronger. You realized that you could hear her thoughts. When she dropped something on accident, you could hear her say Oh, shit even though the words never escaped her lips. When she prepared food for you, you could hear her thinking I hope she likes this. You had a feeling that she caught on and was now protecting her thoughts from you, because you could hear no further than mundane thoughts.

But she couldn’t protect her emotions from you. You started to realize, as you slept in the cage in the corner of her room at night, that something tragic and painful radiated from Wanda. It was grief, cold, and menacing. It gripped her helplessly. Although your life before being her familiar was fading away from your mind, you could remember that her house, which you could see across the street from yours, usually had two little boys and a man running in and out of it. Now it was totally empty besides her and yourself. Picture frames were turned on their faces, making it appear as if no one had ever lived there but her.

You learned that Wanda had only recently started to become a witch, though her powers already ten times that of Agatha’s. The Scarlet Witch, Agatha told her over the phone. The most powerful being in the universe, but she was baking you cookies and feeding you treats and putting a blanket over you at night and giving you all the space you needed and crying herself to sleep every night. For someone who could cause total destruction, all she seemed to you was soft and sad.

The urge to comfort her was strong. At night, she preferred to keep you in feline form in the cage so you wouldn’t be able to reach the latch and unlock it. Before you walked into the cage, you would butt your forehead against her ankle, twisting around her leg so that your tail curled around her knee. She was so moved by these little moments of affection, and it warmed you to bring them to her.

Wanda often studied from a big, old book during the day. She would sort of transform, her sweatpants and hoodie fading into a deep red suit fitted with a crown. She looked so majestic like that, hovering above the air, flipping through the pages of the book without even touching them, encompassed in her own red glow of magic. You would watch her curiously, between the glimpses of your attention grabbed by birds outside the window.

Wanda started to let you have more freedom. The cage is tucked inside the closet now, and the only time she turns you into feline form is when she takes you on walks outside, holding the red leash she had bought to connect to your red cat harness. It was a wonderful delight, experiencing the world that way, stimulated by every single movement and sound and smell. She had to keep you in that form on your walks because to everyone else in the town, you had simply disappeared.

Wanda gives you your own bedroom in the house, which you used for a couple nights, but you found yourself sneaking into her room and sleeping on the cot made up beside her bed on the floor, and one time you even woke up to find that you had crawled onto the bed and curled up on her feet in the night. It all happened so quickly and mindlessly, your love for her, your attraction to her, your loyalty to her. You weren’t just a familiar now, bound to her by magic, but you were her friend.

You started to fall in love with the way she smiled. You had a habit of knowing just how to make her laugh, and you basked in the glow of her giggles. She confessed to you that she had a crush on you ever since you moved into town, but she was too afraid to pursue it, even after Vision was gone. One intimate night by the fireplace in the living room, she said that she regretted telling Agatha about her crush on you, because it gave Agatha the idea to give you to Wanda as a familiar, as a gift. She said that she didn’t want you to be taken by force, that she wanted you to want to be with her. She even glanced to the unhexed door and told you, without thinking, You are free to leave. I will not hold you hostage.

It was then that you placed your hand on her thigh and tilted your head, looking at her wavy red hair and absorptive green eyes and trembling pink lips, and thought to her, Never would I want to leave you. It was then that you kissed for the first time, a slow and careful one. She was scared to kiss you too hard, to upset you, to make you want to run away since she had given you the option for freedom. Truth be told, you’d never felt freer in your life than when you were with Wanda.

She was happier after that. Your relationship, which had been rocky and reluctant at first, bloomed into something more than just a witch and her familiar. Your love grew like wildflowers in the pit of your bellies, deepening the spiritual bond that was already there between you. The relationship turned into something romantic, intimate, and special. It turned into desire that showed its head one night.

Although Wanda was happier now, she still had her moments when she missed her boys. You were sleeping beside her that night in her bed, arm cast over her, when you awoke not to a sound, but to a feeling. It stirred you awake forcefully, and the grief radiating from her stabbed you in the gut. You opened your eyes and gently turned her to face you—she was quietly crying.

“Wanda,” you whispered, gently holding her face and wiping her tears from her cheeks. “What is it, my love?”

“Detka,” she whispered, reaching up to stroke your cheek with her thumb. “Everyone has left me. My parents, my brother, Vision, my boys…” She stopped, a cry choking her throat. “I don’t know if I could take it if I ever lost you, too.”

Your heart broke at the sound of hers. You took her hand in yours. “That’s not going to happen.”

“I’m sorry that you ended up here,” she cried, sniffling and looking anywhere but you, too afraid to look at you and see hatred in your eyes. She had a habit of letting her mind get to her. “I’m afraid that you’re only with me because I forced you to be.”

Leaning closer to her, you looked deeply into her eyes, hoping that she heard how loud your love for her screamed from within you. “I want to be with you,” you told her firmly, and she listened, staring up at you with such vulnerability and conviction it made your eyes water. “I love you. Even if I hadn’t ended up here this way, we still would have been together. I love you in a million lifetimes and a million universes. I will never, ever, ever leave you.” You meant every word.

Wanda’s hand caressed your cheek and brought your face to hers, kissing you in the same soft, sweet kiss she always did. You always felt that twinge of desire within her, waiting for her to unleash it one day, desperate to seal your romance. But she was too scared to hurt you, too afraid of scaring you away.

Resting your body on top of hers in the quiet, dark bedroom, you kissed her deeply, running your tongue along her lower lip before slipping it inside her mouth, feeling her tongue slide against yours. Her body grew hot under you, her chest moving with the weight of her intensified breaths. She made a sort of strangled noise, her hand coming to your throat. You melted under the feeling of her fingertips dipping into your neck, but then she gently pushed you away.

Your mouth was wet with her kiss, and she was breathing hard, looking at you with both lust-filled and pain-filled eyes. It isn’t fair to you, she thought. She felt that the position of power was unbalanced, and she feared taking advantage of you even though she had thought about it so many times in her mind, had even blocked you from hearing her thoughts as she laid beside you at night and touched herself to the sight and smell of you beside her.

“It’s unfair for you to deprive me,” you whispered to her, pressing closer on her, feeling her hand tighten around your throat. “I need you. I want you.”

There was hesitance in her eyes as they scoured your face, looking and feeling for any sort of dishonesty. She wanted you to truly want her.

“Please,” you begged, trying to lean forward and kiss her again, but her hand on your throat held you away from her. You clawed at it, letting out a mewling sound that embarrassed you a little. Even in human form, you felt the urge to purr her for.

“Kitten,” she whispered, eyes falling to your lips and looking at them with desperation as her teeth bit into her own. “Are you sure?”

You nodded feverishly. “Yes, please. Yes.”

Finally, she gives in with a whimper, pulling you towards her to kiss you again. Her hands run over your waist, pressing you close to her as her tongue deeply explores your mouth. The blankets fall over your bodies as you move together, clothes coming off one by one until your skin is flushed together.

“Kitten,” Wanda moans when you move your lips to her neck, leaving butterfly kisses on her sensitive skin there. Her hands tangle in your hair as you move your mouth downwards, desperate to please her, desperate to love and cherish her body as much as you love and cherish her soul. Your mouth explores the expanse of her chest, the concaves of her clavicle, the rise and swell of her breasts which you grope and suck into your mouth, delighting in the noises she makes as your mouth lingers there. You go further down her body as if drinking down the winding expanse of a river, leaving trails of wet kisses down her stomach and hips until you’re stationed between her legs that open for you.

“Please,” she begs, urging her hips upwards as you bite and kiss at her thighs, inhaling the scent of her arousal that already sweetens the air. You don’t hesitate to give her what she wants, letting her hands in your hair guide your head to her slit. “Oh, fuck,” she breathes, her chest arching off the bed as you lap at her sensitive nub and suckle at it, feeling her juices cling to your chin.

Her breathing gets faster as her hips buck hard against your mouth, her fingers clutching your hair to push your head down harder. She seems to remember herself and loosen up, not wanting to hurt you, even in her pleasure. You moan at the taste of her, swallowing down every drop that collects on your tongue as you fervently pleasure her with your mouth.

“Kitten,” she cries, her voice rising in pitch as she grinds harder against your tongue, pulling your face impossibly closer to her. “Fuck, fuck,” she whispers in the most delightful string of curses you had ever heard as she comes to a climax, her thighs trembling around her face that is hot from the heat of her desire. You soothe her through her orgasm, lapping softer and sweeter, until finally she sighs and pulls you up.

You crawl up her body, shocked to see the flame of red in her cheeks, the tremble in her lower lip as she kisses you roughly. Whining, you wrap your arms around her shoulders as she sits up, her hands snaking down your waist and over your hips to grab the swells of your ass, squeezing you closer to her. She grunts into the kiss, breaking away to catch her breath.

“Did I please you?” you ask her breathlessly as she starts biting at your nipples, bringing a squeak from your throat. Your hands swim in her curls of hair as she groans a sound of confirmation, her tongue licking at your nipple before she bites it again, her hands on your ass tightening their grip.

Before you know it, she flips you around so that you’re on your back and she’s hovering over you, her mouth now biting at your shoulder and neck. “Can I touch you?” she asks, her fingertips quivering over the lower expanse of your tummy.

“Yes,” you whisper, feeling your face go hot as her hand dips down eagerly between your legs to cup you. You hum, feeling sparkles of pleasure fill you as her fingers rub at your clit perfectly, as if she somehow already knows exactly what pleases you. “Oh…” you moan, trying to pull her closer to you as her hands slip down over your folds, collecting your immense wetness that you hadn’t even realized was there until Wanda moaned at the feeling of it.

Looking down at the sight, Wanda slowly pushes two of her fingers inside you, listening to the way you gasp and moan as she slides them all the way in, spreading them out and moving them around to gauge your tightness—tight. Pumping them in and out, she feels for your sweet spot, finding that ridged spot tucked deep inside you and pressing at it.

Your hips jump suddenly from the feeling, back arching off the bed as she feels you from the inside. “Wanda,” you moan desperately as she thrusts her fingers slowly at first, until they pick up speed and her mouth is at your neck again, sucking dark spots into the fair skin there.

Something carnal unlocks inside Wanda at the way you moan her name, the way your hands are pulling her desperately closer, the way your walls clench and throb around her fingers. She lets out a whine and fucks her fingers harder into you, her own hips thrusting eagerly.

“That’s it, Kitten,” she whispers when she feels you tightening, your thighs trapping her hand between them. “Cum for me.”

A cry escapes your throat as hot, searing pleasure washes over you, Wanda’s fingers ushering your orgasm along within you. She shudders at the feeling of you cumming around her fingers, whining in desperation to be even deeper inside you, stretching you out even more, needing to be even closer to you.

You’re panting and still coming down when she pulls her fingers out of you, and glowing red magic flares from them, illuminating your bodies in momentary crimson light in the darkness. Suddenly, in a flash of red, there is a large dildo strapped to her hips, and she starts to lubricate it with your wetness on her fingers, stroking around the tip gently.

Anticipation fills you as she settles between your legs, pausing to look carefully at your face and stroke some of your hair away softly. “Are you okay? C-Can I?” She’s trembling with desperation.

“Yes,” you smile, gently running your hand up her arm. “I want it.”

Licking her lips, she smiles a little and leans down to kiss you gently, letting her body weight settle over you. She breaks the kiss to look down, her breath heavy, as she lines the tip of her strap to your wet entrance, slowly pushing herself into you. You take a deep breath as she slides deeper, your walls stretching around the widening girth. It becomes a little painful, and you let out a strangled whine.

Wanda stops suddenly, looking up at you with wide eyes. “Am I hurting you?”

“No,” you whisper, placing your hands on her face. “Just go slow, please.”

She nods, pressing her lips to yours again as she pushes her cock even slower inside you, one arm wrapped around you and keeping you close to her. She keeps her mouth on yours as she fills you deeper and deeper, stretches you out even more and more until her cock is lodged fully inside you, resting so deep that you can feel her in your lower tummy.

Your breaths fall shakily against each other as she dares not to break the kiss, as if for every ounce of the pain she is kissing it better. She stays still for a moment to let you adjust before she starts to pull out, and the pain comes back again, but so does the immense pleasure. She does this for a minute, just barely pumping inside you, kissing you gently.

After a while, you can tell that she’s holding back. Her hand swipes over your lower tummy when she is at her deepest, feeling the bulge of her cock there, and she groans, breaking the kiss to bury her face in your neck. “Kitten…” she breathes, her body moving on top of yours as she retracts her hips and then buries deep inside you again.

Your hands run up her bare back to find that she is incredibly tensed, using every ounce of her strength to withhold from absolutely ravishing you. You goad her by hooking one leg up around her and bucking your hips. “Faster,” you whisper, feeling yourself throb with need. “Fuck me, Wanda.”

Wanda instantly obliges, her hand grabbing your thigh that is hooked around her as she pulls out and then snaps her hips harshly into you, bringing out a gasp from your lips. She growls and does this again, and again, and again, until she is pounding you into the mattress and squelches from your wetness fill the air.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, arching your chest against her as she drills into you, letting out her own symphony of noises. She is desperate and animalistic, driving herself into you with the force of something primal and carnal. You become a melted mess of nothing beneath her, barely able to keep up with her power and hunger as you scratch helplessly at her back, feeling cuts form there on her skin.

“Kitten, fuck,” she growls into your neck. Your bodies are pressed flat against one another, humid skin rubbing smoothly against each another as she forces herself into you fast and hard. She’s shaking again, grabbing your thigh so hard it bruises under her touch. Her teeth sink hard into your neck, but you don’t even feel it from the blinding force of pleasure coming over you. You’re both feeding off each other’s pleasure, soul and body and mind and heart connected, tangled so deeply with each other that you wouldn’t even know where your body starts and hers ends. You can tell she’s been waiting for this night, as much as she has held it from you. She is letting it all out now, her love and her pain and her desire and her grief. You’re the vessel for her soul, taking in every single thing and inch that she’s giving you.

You can feel pressure twisting within you, and your hips start to move and legs squirm against her, but with two hands bruising into your hips, she holds you still and pins your hips to the mattress. “St-still,” she says, leaning up to press sloppy kisses to your mouth. Her eyes are squeezed shut and her mouth is open, and it’s the most glorious sight you’ve ever seen.

“Fuck!” she groans, dropping her face back into your neck as her hips stutter, thrusting wildly and aimlessly into you.

“Wanda,” you whine as your climax crashes down on you, and with another string of curses and growls from the witch, hers does too. You’re blinded as she fucks into you as she cums, your nails scratching hard at her back.

It’s an orchestra of grabbing, thrusting, and moaning until you both slow down, and her weight rests fully on top of you, her body going limp as she breathes hard into your neck. Panting, you close your eyes and just feel her, her heart beating hard against your own, her body warm against yours, her cock still tucked deep inside you, a bundle of wetness between both of your legs, both still trembling.

Eventually, she moves up, looking down at you with a placated look in her eyes, as if she has been hungry for years and is finally fulfilled. “Are you okay?” she asks sweetly, as if she isn’t still ten inches deep in you.

You nod, reaching up to stroke her face. For the first time, you don’t feel grief radiating off her, nor do you hear painful thoughts of insecurity and trauma. She is just Wanda, your satisfied little witch, and you her loyal familiar, bound to each other in life and in death, in spirit and in flesh.

She smiles widely, those green moons filling with euphoria.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #marvel #lgbt #lesbian #wanda maximoff x f!reader #witch #agatha harkness #westview #wandavision

[dreamtinblackandwhite]

A Dog's Best Friend

chris evans x female!reader summary: Dodger finds his best friend - Chris finds... someone.

note: this is my first fic for Mr. C. Evans :) I'm still going back and forth on if this will be a full series or if it will be a series of one shots but if will for sure have multiple parts! let me know your thoughts and opinions please!

warnings: meet cute, little bit of fluff, Chris falls hard and fast, swearing

word count: 2262

“Come on, Dodger!” I call to my rescue boxer-mutt as he trots back towards me with his skunk toy. Normally, he is very good at fetch but today he continued to be distracted by the golden retriever who was playing near him. I really can’t blame him though, I am equally as distracted by the owner of this dog.

Stop staring, I remind myself as I force my eyes to Dodger again. I kneel down as he gets closer so I can wrestle the toy away. I watch from the corner of my eye as the girl nearby tosses her dogs ball out into the distance; she’s got an arm, that’s for sure.

Dodger’s wet nose bumping into my face was his subtle reminder that I should be looking at him and not anyone else. “Okay, buddy,” I laugh as I stand up. I toss the skunk off in the same direction as before and watch Dodger happily chase after it.

While I wait for Dodger to come back, I easily fall into the enthralling trap this stranger yielded. I wonder if I’d ever seen her hair color on another person before – the sun really catches it perfectly, illuminating the multitude of different hues and shades that dance between each strand. I wonder what she does for work; her outfit didn’t give too much of a hint: blue jeans that were cuffed at the ankle just above a tan pair of boots with a grey-green shirt tucked into the waist with a long tan coat tossed over the top of it all and loosely tied closed at the front. It was a simple outfit, but nice enough in imply she was going somewhere next; unlike my black joggers paired with a grey workout shirt, white running shoes, a green windbreaker, and a Boston Bruins cap.

I watch her kneel down to greet her pup, “this isn’t yours, silly!” She exclaims, tugging at the skunk that hung from his mouth. Wait, skunk?  I look down at Dodger now who sat patiently looking up at me with a ball in his mouth, his tail wagging a thousand miles a minute.

I laugh as I gently take the ball from him; he licks my hand in thanks. “You are such a good wing-man, buddy,” I praise with a gentle pat to his head. I stand straight now, tugging my cap a little bit lower over my eyes to hopefully save the awkwardness of her knowing me immediately and flattening out any wrinkles that may have formed in my jacket.

I walk closer to her as she searches the park for the possible skunk owner. Dodger follows happily at my side, his eyes trained to the ball in my hand. “I think our pups got a bit confused,” I open, trying to keep my voice welcoming and charming; I hold the ball up and give my wrist a slight twist.  

She blushes immediately and moves to close more distance between the two of us, reaching her hand forward with the skunk. “I’m sorry about that; I’d say he doesn’t do this often, but that would be a lie,” she grins at me as we trade toys. I wet my lips before grinning back at her, her smile was gorgeous. She is gorgeous. Her eyes seemed to carry specks of a thousand different shades in them and were piercing against the sun that had begun to rise. “He’s got a bad habit of stealing.”

I laugh gently and shrug my shoulders, waving off the apology for her dog. “Don’t worry about it,” I reassure, looking down at Dodger at my feet. “I’m sure it was a mutual trade.” I try to control my expression as I glance back to the girl in front of me, my mind racing with a thousand different observations and questions. I think she chews her lip when she was nervous; even now she had the bottom right corner tucked into her teeth, her jaw flexing slightly as her eyes searched mine. Is she a coffee or tea person? She has really pretty eyes. Does she like road trips? Movies at home or in the theatre? God… her eyes.

“Dodger, right?” She asks, a small smirk playing at her lips as she steps back to toss the ball for her dog. My eyes widen by a sliver as a blush creeps over my cheeks, I’ve been made. I should have introduced myself right away, why try to hide it? Now it just seems like I was intentionally hiding from her – I don’t want to hide from her. Does she think it’s weird for me to be who I am? What if she hates my movies and, in turn, me?

“Uh- y-yeah,” I stutter embarrassed as I turn away and toss the toy for Dodger to run after.

“So, you’re Chris Evans’ dog walker, then?” She asks, her voice carrying the smallest glint of teasing. I smirked softly, looking back at her feeling slightly more comfortable after clocking the joke. Maybe my social status didn’t matter to her. That was nice; most people would have thrown a fit by now.

“Evans couldn’t afford my dog-walking fees,” I joke, winking at her. Did you just wink? What the fuck was that? Are you stupid?

She laughs, her chin falling towards her chest and one hand covering her mouth. The sound literally brought goosebumps to my skin and a warm tightness to my chest. I gulp as I try to control the smile on my face. Keep it friendly, not creepy. “I’m Y/N,” she introduces, sticking her hand out for me to shake. Y/N…

I feel my smile grow slightly as I took her hand in mine, giving her a polite handshake. “Chris,” I reply, keeping my voice cool and collected. Should I have let go of her hand already? How long do you normally shake someone’s hand? How long have we been shaking hands? It feels like hours – her skin is so soft and her hand is so small. I don’t want to let go – what is happening to me?!

She dropped her hand to take the ball from her dog again, tossing it off. I squeezed my now empty hand into a fist, containing her warmth to my palm. Calm down, she’s just a stranger in the park… with a beautiful name and beautiful eyes. “If I’m being honest, I recognized Dodger before you,” she explains as I bend down to grab Dodger’s toy and toss it. “So, either you have this whole ‘Clark Kent’ thing down solid or your dog is more famous than you. I’ll let you decide whichever helps you sleep better at night.”

It’s my turn to laugh, hard, my hand cradling my ribs as I do. It felt freeing and relaxed. I took a few deep breaths as I look back at her. “Thank you for that,” I chuckle, “I need to be humbled now and again.” She grinned at me as the dogs trotted back over to us. I knelt down and held my hand out towards her pup. “And, what’s your name?” I asked in a puppy voice as I scratched his ears.

“Oh god,” she mumbled slightly, covering her eyes embarrassed. I look up at her confused, taking the ball and tossing it off before doing the same for Dodger. “I have never been embarrassed about his name before this moment…” she grumbled, giving me a sheepish grin as I stood back up next to her.

“You’ve got me on the edge of my seat, Y/N,” I laugh softly, suddenly feeling anxious for very different reasons. Did she notice how you basically just moaned her name? You are being fucking creepy, dude.

“His name is Thanos,” she grumbles, hiding her face again. I burst out laughing again, leaning forward and resting my hands on my knees. “I didn’t think I’d meet anyone from the MCU when he was a baby!” She defends before starting to laugh herself.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh,” I breath out between chuckles as I try to control myself.

She shook her head at me. “No, please,” she giggles as her hands hide her blushing face again. “It is pretty funny.”

“I guess I’m just disappointed it’s not Rogers or Captain,” I grin at her as the pups came running back to us. “Hi, Thanos!” I cheer, kneeling down to scratch his head again. Dodger, realizing I was busy, went straight to Y/N. She happily bent down to give him so belly rubs before tossing his skunk off – I did the same for Thanos.

“Oh, you’ll just love his brother and sister then…” Y/N mumbles, looking at me embarrassed still.

“What do you mean?” I ask as I straightened up.

“Two cats… Loki and Nebula,” she grins, laughing at herself. Even if I didn’t actually find what she said funny, I’d still be laughing with her. It was contagious, I couldn’t imagine anyone hearing her laugh and not joining in.

Dodger and Thanos returned to our feet quicker this time, yipping at us to stop laughing. “Sorry, guys,” Y/N sighs as she bent down to toss Thanos’ ball. I went to do the same for Dodger but he growled and backed away, wagging his tail as he looks up at Y/N.

“What in the world?” I laugh softly; Y/N bent down and easily took the toy away from him to toss. “Traitor!” I call out as Dodger chased away. “It’s because you’ve got a better arm than me,” I wink again, looking back at Y/N. She blushed and looked down at her feet nervously; she’s adorable when she’s flustered. “So, where are you from?” I ask maybe a little too excitedly.

“What do you mean?” She counters, giving me a pointed look. “I was born and raised here in Boston.” Her serious resolve quickly faded to a grin as she heard the horribly fake accent come from her lips.

“No offense,” I laugh, setting a hand back on my chest to try to comfort my heart that was doing summersaults. “But never do that again.” Always do it – it was adorable.

“Noted,” she chuckles softly. “I am from a super small town in Wisconsin, moved here about a year and a half ago.”

“Ah, Wiz-cahn-sin, eh?” I countered, putting my own midwestern accent into use.

“That’s not fair,” Y/N laughs, playfully pushing my shoulder; I felt the warmth of her skin radiate through my jacket. “It’s part of your job to be able to do accents.”

I smirk at her as I held my hands up defensively. “You’re right,” I admit my defeat happily after seeing her smile. “What’s it like? I have never been to much of the Midwest.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” she smiles, tossing both dogs toys now that Dodger was completely ignoring me. “It’s pretty much just farm land everywhere you look, but the people and weather are pretty similar to Massachusetts. Just take all the history from Boston, Salem, and Plymouth and replace it with red-necks, corn, and beer and it’ll be like a typically Tuesday night for me.”

This woman seems to have quite the knack for making me laugh; I can’t remember the last time I laughed so genuinely with someone, it was nice. “What brought you to Boston, then? Needed a break from the red-necks?” I guess with a small smirk.

“Always need a break from the red-necks,” she grins at me. “I got a job at Tufin as a senior project manager for their cybersecurity department. It took me a bit farther from my family than I had planned, but it’s been a welcome change.” I study her facial expression for a moment, she looked sad but not in a bad way. She missed her family, I think.

“It must be hard, being so far away from them,” I glance at her as she tossed the ball for Thanos before he got distracted by wrestling with Dodger playfully. “Do you get home to see them a lot?” Take it slow, play it cool…

“Not really,” she shrugged her shoulders with a sad smile now. “It’s hard to get off work, and the flights aren’t exactly cheap.” She anxiously ran a hand through her hair again. “Holiday’s and special occasions mostly.”

Hug her. Wait, no! Don’t do that, that’s creepy. Fuck, how can I comfort her? Dodger happily rolled onto his back as Y/N scratched his stomach, Thanos was off in the distance chasing a few butterflies. A soft ring echoed from her watch, she frowns as she shut it off.

“Fuck, it’s already 8:30…” she mumbles; I look around anxiously, zipping my coat up and tugging my cap lower onto my forehead. Normally, I would have already made it home by now and avoided any extra interactions. “T!” She calls out with two sharp taps to her hip; Thanos came running at the command. “I’m sorry, I have to drop him off at home before work.” She looked at me apologetically, her smile didn’t reach her eyes fast enough to hide her disappointment.

I felt a pang at my heart as we both clipped the dog’s leashes onto their collars. “Of course,” I smile at her to reassure her, though I doubted it hid my disappointment either. “It was really nice to meet you, Y/N.” Y/N…

“It was nice to meet you too, Chris,” she grinned before turning away and clicking her tongue for Thanos to follow. Wait, don’t go…

“Y/N!” I called out before she got too far away. “I’ll be back here at 7 tomorrow, if you – I mean, uhm…” I stuttered, fuck, fuck, fuck.

She giggled softly and bit her lip, god how beautiful. “I will see you tomorrow then, Chris.”

#chris evans au #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x you #chris evans x female reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fluff #a dogs best friend

[sailtomarina]

Make it right

Draco spat the blood out of his mouth before wiping his chin clean. Shame burned low in his stomach at the reality of it all: his return to Hogwarts after the trial, his sentencing to ten years of Ministry work following graduation, and his inability to defend himself under the strict guidelines of his probation. Each day brought with it new tortures in the form of taunts, hexes, and fists. The worst part was that he didn’t even try to avoid punishment. He chased it the way his friends used to take potions—often, and in great quantities.

Like, for example, today.

He could have walked away the second class ended, made his way back to the castle and the safety of his dorm room. Instead, he’d watched Hagrid saunter off into the Forbidden woods to gather Acromantula venom, gathering his belongings in as slow a manner as possible. 

He’d seen the way Finnegan glared at him throughout the entire duration of class, how he’d exchanged whispers and nods with the other wizards near him.

The jelly-legs jinx hit him just as he made to stand with his bag, sending him sprawling face first into the boulder towards which he faced. He’d turned his head just in time to avoid a broken nose, but the impact on his teeth still cut up the inside of his mouth.

“Why didn’t you move, or at the very least, block that?”

He didn’t have to turn around to recognize that voice. It was the voice he heard in his dreams tinted with screams and piss and so much blood.

It was the voice he most desired and feared. Of anyone, she was the one who most deserved justice against him. He wanted her to kick and scream at him, call him all the terrible names he knew fit.

“Because it’s the very least I can offer them.”

She cast the counterspell, and Draco stood to brush the dirt off his clothes, leaving smears in their wake. He could use a charm to vanish the mess, but he hardly ever used magic outside of classes anymore. The weight of his wand felt like clasping the hand of a stranger now, rather than the comforting friend it had always been in the past.

“Scourgify.”

The marks he’d left behind vanished. He turned around to yell at Granger for her meddling and complete lack of self-preservation. The words never left his lips, instead becoming trapped on his tongue as she moved the tip of her wand up to his face without the slightest hesitation. Was this the moment he’d been waiting for?

“Episkey.”

The sharp pain in his cheek faded to nothing, and he probed the spot with his tongue to verify the cuts had healed.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Her actions didn’t make any sense to him. She shouldn’t be here, cleaning him up and casting healing spells.

“Righting a wrong,” she said, her voice calm and steady as if the response was only natural.

“Righting a wrong.” 

He couldn’t help but repeat what she’d said, in utter disbelief at the implication. “Are you daft?”

“What’s daft, Malfoy, is you seeking out every single person looking for petty revenge.” Her rebuke was quick, slapping him with her disapproval.

“Finnegan deserves some satisfaction just as much as I deserve punishment,” he choked out. This was the first time he’d dared utter them aloud, even though he’d said them to himself a million times and more. He chanted them, repeated them almost like a prayer each night.

“Looking for pain the way that you are doesn’t make any of it right.” Her gaze, a clear shade of light brown like the honey he stirred into his tea, pierced him straight through. She saw too much.

Then again, she always had.

Trapped under his eyes the way that he was and feeling a rare moment of naked honesty, he again let out more of his true self.

“I don’t know what else to do.”

At that admission, she cocked her head to the side, chewing on her lip like she often did when considering a particularly trying problem. Her brows rose, lighting up as an idea came to mind.

“Catch.”

Not a half second later, her bag was flying towards him. He caught it just before it hit the ground, the weight of the shelf’s-worth of books she must have stuffed into it nearly knocking him on his arse.

“Bloody hell, Granger, this thing must weigh more than a hippogriff,” he grunted, hoisting the bundle more evenly into his arms. She smirked at the gripe, remembering a specific hippogriff and his specific blunder then.

“You’re my study buddy now, and you’ll accompany me to and from class and the library until graduation. Your choice, of course.” Spinning on her heels, she started her ascent back to the castle with the full expectation of his acquiescing to her offer.

Draco’s mind went through a series of mental gymnastics over the turn of events as he watched the distance increasing between them. He could drop her books and go his own way. Malfoys didn’t bow to others.

Unless they were Voldemort.

Or sentenced to Azkaban.

Or…

He could swallow his pride and follow the witch. Maybe she knew the real meaning of justice. Maybe she could help him figure out who he was outside of the family name and the Mark.

His mind made up, he grit his teeth and took the first step towards a future of his own making. He found Granger stopped and facing his way as she waited. The smile that stretched across her face when she noticed him moving hit him as hard, if not harder, than her ridiculous bag.

A smile for him rather than at his expense.

With she the giver and he the recipient, the smile took on a whole new meaning. Perhaps instead of seeking his own pain, he could seek joy for her and, just maybe, for himself. 

WC 999

Juuuuuut shy of 1K, let's go!

Twitter prompt from DramionePrompts

#dramione #dramione prompt #draco malfoy x hermione granger #dramione prompts #dhr fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #hermione granger #draco malfoy

[typosandtea]

(Closed sorry)

If the Boop-a-pawcalypse has shown me one thing:

It’s that this webbed site is so much more fun when you’re slapping hanging out with people!

What better way to chill with other fallout people than to create! So I thought I’d try something new for me: I’m opening simple fallout drawing requests, Pop an ask through if you’d like!

Also this is open to anyone not just mutuals :)

Please be patient though I am quite a slow drawer!

[ID: A simple digital drawing with information about fallout themed drawing requests, it’s mostly handwritten text. In the bottom left corner is a person wearing a navy blue T51 power armour helmet and dark grey t-shirt. The person is the same navy blue colour as the helmet. The helmet has orange hoses and a dark green visor. Their eyes are visible and happy behind the visor, they are looking at the title. Their left hand is raised towards the text open palm facing forward, and their right hand at in front of them and is holding an Apple Pencil. The title text is “Typos & Tea’s Simple Fallout Drawing Requests!” ‘Typos & Tea’ is dark pink, and ‘fallout’ is the fallout 4 logo font, with dark green edges and neon green body. The background of the title is pale blue. Below the title and to the right of the person is “how it works: send me an ask with a description of your request! -> OC’s require a visual ref. Please!”. ‘How it works:’ is bolder than the rest of the paragraph. ‘Ask’ is in a box with the same pale blue background as the title. Below this is 2 boxes of text with the titles “I will draw (tick)” and “I won’t draw (cross)” both in all capitals, the tick is in the same greens as the fallout text, and the cross is dark maroon outline with red inside. In the ‘I will draw’ box is “character, OC’s, Power Armour, Weapons, Creatures”. The ‘will’ box is shaded the same green as the fallout text. In the ‘I won’t draw’ box is “NSFW, heavy gore, furries, drugs”. The ‘won’t’ box is shaded with maroon. End ID]

#the tag for any of these asks will be: #typos drawing requests #fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #my art

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

The Ocean is She(One-Shot)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Warnings: Loki's POV summary till the Season 4 Midseason Finale.

Word Count: I just sort of poured out whatever I felt for this dude. Which all shades of sad mostly.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

"This is Y/N. She is here to complete her college degree. She will be living here for now." That was the first time Loki saw you.  You stood out like a lost firefly in that lounge among the crowd of broken people on Hero Syndrome. While everyone was giving him the stink eye, you passed a flat smile towards his direction before being pulled by the others into questioning. What is someone like her doing here? Loki was meant to have it as a passing thought. But that passing thought slowly percolated into his life in the form he never really thought he would meet again- a friend. "It's okay, I'll have another one." You smiled at him when he took your cup of green tea your first morning there. And Loki would never admit to his ego that the first act of unadulterated kindness had made his heart sink a little into an unnamed ocean before covering it up with 'this woman must have an ulterior motive'. Ulterior motive. Loki was 'on guard' since then, trying to figure you out. You knocking on his door to join the others for a movie night, making him those heavenly molten chocolate lava cakes on his birthday, buying rings and bracelets that reminded you of him, falling asleep in his presence in the library, asking him to help you study for your exams, sending him pictures of cats on the campus, sharing latest memes with him to keep him up to date; everything you did was seen as motive of some bigger game for the God who had once fallen and twice died. But seemingly, he killed a part himself the day he told you about your origins and you did not blame him for a single second. And nothing was the same for God afterwards.

He started paying more attention to you. His initial reason was that unlike the clowns infesting the building always high on either adrenaline or coffee, you were a specimen that he could study. Right. He was studying how you had a habit of cracking your neck every hour no matter what you did. How you would interact with inanimate objects with emotions, like looking at your assignment on the laptop and asking it with tears in your eyes, 'Why won't you conclude yourself in a way that's not gibberish?!'; or how you would gently pat the car and say thank you whenever you arrived at your destination. How your eyes would light up every time you saw a little spawn of the dogs or cats and your voice would go higher to greet them. He was amused by how your calm persona would do a one-eighty when your menstruation cycle was on the verge of bleeding days. That was the exciting part of his day during the cycle- sitting close to your sweatshirt and shorts-clad figure sprawled on the sofa in front of the TV, watching you threaten anyone who passed the hall. That's all you were to him- an amusing human who helped him pass his days on earth. At least that is what he had convinced himself of, never realising how his day would start by coming out of his room looking for you. How he would take a tour of the entire Avengers facility to find you and when he did, he would play himself off non-chalantly. He did not seem to let himself know how he would automatically come to stand by your side whenever he was to leave the facility and go out into the world. 

The narrator's heart often wonders how he could not see himself getting attached to you. Like that one time, he was the only one up beside Scott and Tony when you were out partying with your college friends; how he pretended to be drowned in a philosophy book while Tony worked on his robot babies and Scott watched the Kaichowa Maid Sama anime; how he intently listened to the phone call Scott got and he immediately recognised your voice even though he sat a bit far; how he heard your slurred words say 'Scottieeeeeee~ please take me home. I am drunkkkk and I kindaaaa don't want to stay heeeere'. "Of course, honey," Scott replied, "but it'll take me an hour to reach-" "Then send someone who'll be faaaaaasterrrrr~" you whined on the line.  Scott looked in the direction of the elevator, wondering whether to call Stark from his workshop when Loki slammed his book shut. "Turn on the sink tap," Loki commanded a confused Scott as he vanished with green and golden hues only to land on the campus grounds in a poorly lit park where you were sitting in the cold grass, your phone still to your ears. "Scott," you whispered into the phone, "you don't understand. I am drunk and I am feeling these waves of horny-ness but I do not want to do it with anyone here!!!" "Let's go home," Loki announced as he stood in front of you, waiting for you to take his hand. And boy did he feel his heart do another dip in that unknown ocean when you smiled at the God with a shade of relief and hugged him the moment you were up on your legs. "Thank you for coming for me." The wave of feeling his heart about to take another dunk into that ocean, he immediately teleported back with you, making sure both you and he landed right next to the sink to help you puke your wobbling guts right into the sink.

As time passed, Loki grew more used to your presence. From sitting together at breakfast and sharing one cup of tea to having reading sessions in his room on his bed. You were one of the rare ones who were allowed to enter his sacred space. No one knew but he thoroughly enjoyed the waves of emotions that would run over your features at different times when you became too engrossed in a manga. Sometimes it was your uncontrollable laughter where you read the same pages again and again; other times it was the repeated punches you threw either on your thigh or on the bed when you found yourself being impressed by something. But then there were the times when you would be in tears when one of your favourite characters died, and you could not stop yourself and Loki would look at you, with the intensity of the moon, wanting to stop time and do something...anything to stop you from crying. 

He did get tested for his belief of looking at you as a specimen. That one time when you and Hope fell into the other end of the universe. This God was ready to draw blood if it meant bringing you back in one piece. Once you were home safe, he could not help but overthink as to why did what he did for you. You were a mere human.  You were not supposed to mean much to him. You were just his amusement. Right? Just his amusement. The very amusement who stood in a barren alien land in front of the most delirious alien army, making Loki calculate in one point two seven seconds how he was about to lose his sleep for the next three months if he was to keep you alive while trying to find a way back home. Home.  Earth isn't my home, he would mentally slap himself back to reality whenever he caught himself thinking of the Avengers facility and the other clowns. But then he would turn to look at you.  Earth was your home. And going home would make you happy. He wanted to see you happy. Another mental slap to his head. You are losing your edge, Loki, he would bully himself to keep himself cold and calculating throughout that demanding journey of looking after you and the monster you had adopted on your way. And of course, Javi.

Any other day, any other life, any other universe, Loki would have punched the numbers as to how useful you were to him dead or alive and then be his way once you fulfilled your purpose of helping him survive. But here, he was doing the basing math of making sure to get you out of all the darkness of the universe unharmed. But life, as we know, has other plans. The music genre too changes when the playlist is on random and the heart is set on adventure for one and survival for another. Aellae came as the genre of dread and darkness. Being well aware of her obsession and abuse of power, Loki knew she would see you as a threat; for she knew the God of Mischief never travelled in a pack unless that pack had Loki's prey or something Loki wanted to keep close. So his first thought was to call in the seven Gods while 'ditching' you in the middle of a desert. Little did he know that you too were thinking from your heart in that space and time. As much as he hated to see you come for his rescue, he would never give up on the time when you two were stuck in that small space in Aellae's dungeons, trying to find a way through the room, bodies covered in sweat, your back and his front finding the angles to become one as you both pushed your way out. How synchronous were your bodies working together, how you readily trusted him with touching you in a way he would never want to witness you being touched by anyone. Why was he thinking that way? All those questions, all those confusions, all those hours of his inside voices bullying him to see you as nothing but a human ticket to a life of peace back on earth- all of them burst with the brittleness of the snow that fell on you as your lifeless figure lay in his arms. This time when his heart sank into the ocean, it did not want to come up. The God could not sense anything but fear crawling on his skin when his hand touched your face and it did not feel warm anymore. Your usually cheerful eyes did not open when he called out your name again and again. The fear he had felt when he first found himself dying when he wanted to live, was nothing in that moment when he was faced with the reality that you might be dead. And just as that little speck of possibility crossed his mind, the hell inside him broke loose, causing a wave originating from his magic destroying everything within a radius of two kilometers. Ever since he was born, Loki, son of Laufey, son of Odin, Prince of Asgard, the Silvertongue, took to his knees for the first time for a life that was not his. He begged for your survival at the cost of his own, no longer denying himself from the truth. His heart did not come up from that ocean that carried your name on every atom in its waves. You were his reason to laugh. You were his reason to be curious in this life. You were his reason to look forward to getting up the next morning.  You had been the reason he had not gone for Plan B of running away from Earth and ending in the bosom of some dying star that would end his misery.  You were the reason he was willing to live a little longer. You were the reason he was ready to love again. 

Even when back from the horrors of the universe, Loki did not stop looking after you. He let Peter in on the secret of your near-death experience because he trusted that boy and he knew how much he cared for you. Both he and the boy would discreetly look for signs of you experiencing any discomfort. Taking shifts in the night, they would help you get out of your nightmares- which were the after-effects of healing you back to life right from the arms of death herself. Loki grew more protective of you but would distance himself whenever found himself feeling whatever little ounces of happiness his heart felt in your company. He would walk the extra mile of punching a man in his face for disrespecting you but he found himself pretending to laugh at your heartfelt confession because his heart could not bear the truth of knowing that you loved him back. You loved him. You, the perfection that walked amongst mere peasants. Loved. Him. And he laughed. He laughed hard enough to hide his tears of happiness that hurt him to the point of no return. He could not let you do that. You were too precious. Too precious to be put in danger again. He was the danger. He brought death to you. He would rather die than do that to you ever again.  And so the God decided to walk away, let out his screams in the middle of the desert to kill his heart for finding love in this lifetime and then hating the fact that it loved him back. The God was no better than a human then. He was in love. But he could hold on to that love for the fear of breaking it with his ill fate.

#loki #loki series #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki fluff #loki x female reader #marvel fluff #mcu loki #mcu fluff #It's The Avengers #Maladaptive Ninja Returns

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

hiya Wifi, i saw your post and really hope you feel better soon!

reader with FL who always always always brings you little things and gifts. though childe will always present you with grand things like expensive dresses and silks, jewelry and crystals and snacks from abroad, FL is the one who'll go on a walk and come back with his arms full of things that remind him of you.

he brings you the most darling flowers - even if they're only weeds - and wraps them in delicate little ribbons: a small bouquet. (you press them and keep them right with all the other small bookmarks you've made with his help.) he picks seashells from along the shore and pretty pebbles from the riverside, tucking them in his palms and letting them roll onto the table in front of you once he gets back.

this one's the color of your eyes, he tries to tell you, tugging you towards a mirror and holding it up to your face. this one's your favorite color. these would be so pretty on the path leading up to your house. somehow, you always understand what he's trying to say. you have the first pebble, the color of your eyes, made as the pendant of a necklace and you wear it as often as you can. the second pebble (which isn't really your favorite color, but it's a close enough shade and honestly, you might as well just change your favorite color to it anyway) is kept in your nightstand. and when FL steps out the door on his next little stroll along the countryside, he finds that the path to your house has been lengthened and is now a few pebbles and bits of gravel longer than it was before.

wait hang on hold on give me a minute this made me cry-

the Adepti have long grown used to catching glimpses of a horned Abyss creature wandering the shoreline, his crimson-plated face glinting in the light of the setting sun. he's not hurting anyone at all- just the opposite, in fact, his arms full of trinkets and bits and bobs that he thinks you might like- it's endearing, in his own Abyssal way (Cloud Retainer refuses to confess to helping him find the shiniest rock or most vibrant seashell). everything that glints, everything that blooms, everything that catches his eye reminds Legacy of you and your kind, gentle heart, working too long and too hard every day to keep the both of you safe. so he brings you everything that makes him happy, in hopes that it will make you happy as well, that it will ease the exhaustion in your eyes just slightly. he comes home with a little bit of the world in his claws and waits for you to finish work, watching your pen move intently from a corner of the room, and once he hears that customary sigh and your chair being pushed back, he hops up and sweeps you into his arms, tugging you away to cuddle

it's here that he shows you all the items he gathered, curling around your body and nudging them into your hands. see? see? this rock is smooth and round, like the ones you skip into the sea. this flower is from one of your favorite tea blends, and this leaf is all alight with fiery colors and warmth, like the comforting embers of your voice. Legacy trills and coos to you, trying to explain each and every reason, and he purrs deeply when he sees how gently you handle each object, not wanting to tear or rip anything. there's a small smile on your face and a twinkle in your eyes as you thank him, coming up with some way to use every item he brought home. the gravel dotting the path to your house becomes infinitely more colorful, the occasional chunk of rough crystal or cor lapis poking through. the leaves and flowers are pressed and slipped into a large, leather-bound book filled with dried blossoms and greenery, or even made into bookmarks and decorations. you make jewelry out of the smaller bits of glittering stone Legacy somehow finds, playfully putting a bracelet onto one of his horns and watching him tilt and shake his head to get it off- you have a matching pair of bracelets, actually, one for him and one for you

Legacy knows he's done well when he sees you smile, relaxed and easy, and with a rumble he pulls you close and gives you a tight hug, holding the one he adores most

#genshin impact #childe #tartaglia #foul legacy #foul legacy childe #genshin tartagalia #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #chit chat #anon #picking up interesting things aka the crow instinct!! #you also do it too by the way #you pick up pretty things to show him when you get home #his species of Abyss monster give each other courting gifts so he's always super pleased #short scenario #other's stuff #good evening #FAVE

[solar-wing]

☀️ Omegaverse: Alpha & Omega Biology ☀️

Hi guys!

I wanted to make this post because I expected that I would need to explain this topic and my reasoning behind it at some point. Many of you have read my Omegaverse fics and have probably guessed correctly that it's my favorite AU or trope to write about.

But, I'm sure many of you have been slightly put off or dissuaded by my tendency to describe the Omega Male Reader with a cunt, wet heat or core, and their Alpha sucking on a 'nub' or playing with a cocklette. I totally get it.

I am a male author who writes for male readers, cis and trans alike. But, I am also someone who in my years has grown to detest labels and gender roles and the silent rules they put on us.

This is why I set up my version of Omegaverse and A/B/O Dynamics on the basis that Omegas have vaginal genitals and Alphas have phallus genitals, regardless of gender. In my eyes, it helps to create a more imaginable and realistic explanation of male pregnancy and pregnancy between two women, which I hope gives inspiration to wlw authors, even though I already know I'm not the first person to use this idea. Not even close.

Also, I just like the chaoticness of it all.

But, I know it can be jarring or off-putting for male readers who may not want to think of their themselves as the readers having a cunt or a pleasure nub. Which, also let me explain that.

Since I write for male readers, and I'm sure some may have an aversion to the terms vagina, pussy, folds, clit, etc., I do my best to steer away from using those words as much as possible. I know 'cunt' is probably not the next best thing but if anyone has suggestions, I'm more than open to hearing them!

But, I also detail the use of cocklettes and twats which may be a little confusing (and weird) to imagine or think about, but it's fiction. We all have weird fantasies, thoughts, ideas, etc.

The cocklette is the male omega's version of a penis. This tiny and often defective organ typically serves no purpose but as a bundle of nerves/pleasure spot for Omegas. A male equivalent of a clit.

Let me be clear; I am a cis-gendered male author. But, as I said, I write for male readers, ALL male readers. Cis, trans, and those are non-binary alike. This is why I typically don't put non-binary or trans in my tags because I'm keeping the reader as a character as ambiguous and open as possible.

The most I put in the tags regarding identity or label is gay so that it reaches more of the audience I want it to reach. That's it.

Also, I'm sure it doesn't help that I mainly write from a submissive point of view. I'm biased toward bottom/sub-male readers, I admit it. And I know there's a growing demand for top/dominant male reader content, but I'm sorry, that is just not my cup of tea.

But, if you don't want to read about yourself having vaginal parts and a cocklette, that is more than okay. That's why I always put a disclaimer in the warnings section of my author's notes if a fic is Omegaverse and include a link to my headcanons. I'm letting you know from jump what's in the fic you're about to read and giving you more than enough opportunity to turn away.

I do write smut that's not Omegaverse as well, plus I have many fics with no smut at all that keep things clean and open for my male readers to imagine themselves in.

This is not shade or me throwing shots at anyone who felt uncomfortable or surprised by it. It's completely valid, and I understand. But, I give plenty of warning and opportunity so there isn't any confusion.

You will likely never see me write an explicit trans male character since that's not part of my identity and I'd rather give that opportunity and shine to the authors who are of that identity. I just write what I like to write, or better yet, what I myself like to read.

The only thing that doesn't change is that my characters, reader or original, are and will always be MALE characters. Even if my Omegaverse characters have vaginal parts and their nipples leak more milk than a pregnant cow, they are MALE characters. Not female. They are boys, men, fathers, sons, brothers, uncles, nephews, boyfriends, husbands, misters, kings, princes, dukes, barons, cowboys, bachelors, fucking dudes, and every other word related in the dictionary. Again, no shade to any female reader I have, but yall know what it is to.

I hope this doesn't discourage anyone and that everyone receives it as I intended it. If you like my fics, please engage more with them and tell me the things you like and want to see more of! If you want more regular smut and less Omegaverse smut, I'm more than happy to comply, just please check my rules first!

Thank you!

#solar-wing ☀️ #☀️🪽.info #☀️🪽.omegaverse #☀️🪽.txt #gay #male reader #x male reader #omegaverse #a/b/o dynamics #omega male reader #bottom male reader #sub male reader

[junosartsthetic]

Pool Time

SDC reacting to you in a bikini. Chaos ensues. Contains suggestive/mild sexual content, especially in Joseph’s part. Oops. Written for female readers. 

It wasn’t often you got to relax for a moment during your crusade to defeat Dio, so you jumped at the chance to spend the afternoon at the pool with the rest of your companions. The vehicle taking you to your next destination—a train—wasn’t going to arrive until tomorrow afternoon, so you figured you all might as well do something fun while waiting. 

Luckily, you managed to snag a bathing suit from the giftshop in the hotel lobby. Did you pay for it? Ehh. Not important.

You finished tying the bikini straps around your neck, looking yourself over in the bathroom mirror. The top piece consisted of a red patterned bra piece with black straps. The bottoms were entirely black with little red bows on either hip. You winked at yourself. You were never the vain type, but you felt pretty hot at the moment.

The bikini was a little tight being that you were too busy trying not to get caught to look at the tag, but it fit good enough. Your thighs stretched the fabric bottoms, and you had to tuck in the tops of your breasts to fit inside the cups, but everything private was covered. All you wanted to do was jump in the water and stay there so it didn’t matter too much. The hot weather of the Middle East was not your cup of tea.

You grabbed a hotel towel, wrapping it around your waist and securing it there before stepping out of the bathroom. Everyone else was already at the pool, as they’d changed and left in the time you sought out a swimsuit. 

Quickly applying sunscreen, you rushed out of the hotel room and to the elevator. Moments later, you arrived in front of the gated pool. It was quite a nice hotel, and there were many shaded tables scattered around the patio. You looked around, spotting the others seated around a large round table. An umbrella provided shade as they sipped on various drinks. You wondered why none of them chose to take a swim. Were they not dying of heat exhaustion, even with their iced drinks?

Tossing that thought aside, you focused on your current dilemma. You needed to be let inside as you didn’t grab a key. You waved both hands, shouting out a name and catching the attention of a certain someone—your boyfriend. Not only that, but a few others also looked your way. It was hard not to pay attention to you in your current state of dress.

Kakyoin

“Holy shit,” Noriaki breathed, eyes widening. Even sporting green swim shorts instead of his usual attire, he felt hot. He looked around, noticing he wasn’t the only one glancing your way. A pit settled in his stomach. He didn’t want to come off as a bastard, or tell anyone, especially you, what to wear, but your current attire sent his mind spiraling.

There was no denying your beauty. He always thought you were beautiful, but this was something else. It felt wrong seeing you in so little fabric in such a public place. 

He shook his head to clear his thoughts before gathering himself and walking to let you in.

“Thanks, Nori.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I thought I’d have to climb the gate for a second there. You seemed out of it. You okay?”

He nodded. “Oh, uhh, yeah. I’m good. You just caught me off guard. I see you found a swimsuit.” 

“Yeah.” You pulled on the strap of the bikini top before releasing it. It sunk back against your skin tightly. “It’s kind of small, though. I hope it doesn’t tear or something.”

His face flushed red at your words. He quickly changed the subject. “Let’s get in the water. I’m dying out in this heat.”

You hummed in agreement, walking beside him back to the table. “Lemme put my towel down.”

You untied the cloth from your hips, tossing it on a chair before heading towards the large body of water. Noriaki struggled to keep his eyes from trailing downwards, and he quickly followed behind you, standing close enough to block your backside from any prying eyes.

This was simultaneously the worst and best thing he’d ever experienced. It was going to be a long afternoon.

Jotaro

Jotaro was good at keeping his emotions in check, for the most part, but he had no hat to cover his face, nor a jacket collar to pop up to hide his red cheeks. All he could do was look down and mutter.

“Jotaro,” Joseph scolded. “Don’t just sit there. Go let your girlfriend in.”

“Mr. Joestar,” Avdol said. “I think he’s a little overwhelmed. I’ll go let her in.”

“Good grief,” grumbled Jotaro, getting up in his usual irritated manner. “I’m fine. I’m going.”

Polnareff snickered. “Go on, tough guy. Go get your girl.”

“Shut up, Polnareff.”

The Frenchman continued to snicker.

Jotaro made it to the gate, unlatching it and letting you inside with a grunt. You raised a brow. “Why are you so grumpy? Something happen?”

“Old man Joseph and Polnareff are just annoying.”

You giggled. “Oh boy. Can’t wait to see what this is all about. C’mon.” You grabbed his hand.

It was like leading a very intimidating lost puppy across the patio. 

You motioned for him to sit down before plopping down on top of him, greeting everybody with a wave. “Sorry for the wait. I had to go find something to wear.”

“Hmph. Took you long enough,” muttered your boyfriend from behind you. You leaned back against him, rolling your eyes.

“Anyway. I’m gonna go swim. When you stop pouting, you can join me. Okay?” You kissed his cheek before skipping off towards the diving board. 

“Aren’t you gonna go after her?” Kakyoin gestured.

“In a minute,” replied Jotaro, sipping on his drink.

Polnareff nudged Kakyoin. “He’s gotta recover from seeing his girlfriend in a bikini. It’s a big step in a relationship, ya know. He’ll be thinking about it for weeks,” he laughed.

Kakyoin muffled a snicker.

It was fun teasing the normally stoic teenager, especially when he couldn’t deny it because it was written all over his face.

“Young love,” Joseph mused. “How adorable.”

“Can it, old man.”

Polnareff

There was only one thing on this man’s mind, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. He shifted in his chair, silver swim trunks wrinkling as he did so. He could swear up and down he was a gentleman and he couldn’t reduce your complex being into such shallow words, but only a few words circled his head as you bounced up and down, still waving in an attempt to get someone to open the gate. “Her tits look amazing in that bikini.”

Avdol cleared his throat. Polnareff let out an embarrassed chuckle. “I said that outloud, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” he replied. “Yes you did.”

“Am I wrong?” Polnareff said, getting up from his chair.

“Do you really want me to answer that question about your girlfriend, Polnareff?”

Polnareff stopped in his tracks. “Uhh. No. I’m just gonna go let her in now.” He pointed a thumb to the gate before shuffling off.

You raised a brow as he opened the gate for you. “So, what was that little conversation just now? I saw you talking with Avdol. You looked embarrassed.”

He chuckled nervously. “I was just saying how nice you look, ma cherie.” He kissed your cheeks.

You narrowed your eyes. “Nice? You said I look nice? Because from what I could understand, I think you said something along the lines of my tits looking amazing in this bikini?”

His cheeks reddened. “How’d you hear that from so far away?”

You pat his shoulder. “I’m not too shabby at reading lips, love. I do appreciate the compliment, though.” 

He could only watch in awe as you walked away, hips swaying as you did so. He hurried to catch up to you.

You threw your towel off, diving into the pool and splattering him with water. He grinned goofily, running a hand through his now wet hair. “What a woman.”

“You said that out loud again, Polnareff.”

“Shut up, Avdol.”

Joseph

You’d think that over the years, he’d learn to act his age, but this was Joseph Joestar we’re talking about. He never changed. As such, he still acted like a horny teenager during certain situations—one such situation being right now.

“Oh. My. God.” With surprising speed, he was out the gate and scooping you into his arms. He headed back towards the hotel building.

“Pool’s back that way, Joseph. Where are we going? I’m hot.”

“Exactly, which is why we are going somewhere more private.”

You shifted in his arms. “I meant as in the temperature. Why do you insist on going somewhere else?”

“It’s frowned upon to fuck in public, sweetheart.”

Your heart skipped a beat as your breath caught in your throat. “Jesus Christ, Joseph. Don’t just say things like that! And I seriously wanted to swim and hang out with the other guys.”

He laughed at your flustered reaction. “You’re not hanging out with anyone dressed like that.”

“Why not?”

He looked down at you, giving you a knowing look. “Don’t act all innocent, missy.”

Despite your annoyance, you couldn’t help but grin in anticipation. Not having any free time on the trip also meant not really having any alone time. . . and since the others were all down at the pool, it meant you two had the room to yourselves. . . 

“Okay, okay, we can go back to the room. Can I at least walk on my own, though? It’s embarrassing being carried.”

“Fine, fine. I was trying to be a gentleman.” He set you down.

“Whatever you say,” you replied, reaching to fix your sandal that got undone in the chaos of Joseph. A playful slap on your ass caused you to yelp in surprise, straightening back out to give Joseph a glare. He looked everywhere but you. You slapped his arm. “Hold your horses, mister. Patience is not a virtue of yours, huh?”

He finally looked into your eyes, shooting you a wink. “Not when it comes to you.”

You blushed at his words, grabbing his hand. “Hush, you smooth talking bastard. Now let's go before you get any more ideas while we’re not even out of the hotel hallway.” You pulled him into the elevator.

The others chose not to go back to the room until they had absolutely no other option. They didn’t want to witness whatever was happening. They instead hung out at the hotel restaurant for the rest of the day, still in their swimwear. 

Avdol

He spat out his beverage in surprise, a hand on his chest as he coughed. Polnareff patted his back, laughing. “Careful. Don’t die before you get to compliment her. You’re a lucky guy, Avdol. She’s. . . stunning.”

Avdol sent a glare at Polnareff. “I know. She is my girlfriend, afterall, Polnareff.”

Polnareff put his hands up in defense. “No need to get jealous or angry. I swear I’d never try anything. Now go let her in before someone else tries something.”

Avdol grunted, standing up and making his way over. Polnareff was right about somebody else trying something—a man was currently at the gate, obviously trying to make a pass at you.

“That swimsuit fits you just right,” he drawled, fingers messing with the gate but not opening it.

“Actually, it’s a bit snug,” you replied, clearly uninterested as you rolled your eyes. “Now can you move so my boyfriend can let me in? You’re blocking the gate.”

“Boyfriend—?”

“Yes. Move.” Avdol roughly pushed the man out of the way, opening the gate as he guided you towards the table. He pulled out a seat for you, handing you your favorite iced beverage. You kissed his cheek in thanks.

“I really don’t like when people don’t take no for an answer,” you muttered, slurping your drink as you tapped your fingers on the table. “I should’ve sucker punched him instead of trying to get him to take a hint.”

“I can go take care of him,” Avdol said, moving to get out of his seat. You grabbed his arm, keeping him in place.

“It’s fine. It’s just—I know I kind of look like a whore in this bikini, but it was the only one I could, uhh, find.” You stopped yourself from admitting your theft. “It’s not an intentional thing that it’s all tight.” You snapped a strap of your bikini top. 

“Don’t say that,” your boyfriend replied. “You’re a beautiful woman wearing whatever she wants. If anybody has a problem with that, I’ll deal with them.”

You slid into his chair, sitting on his lap as you hugged his neck. “God, you’re the best.”

Avdol’s breath hitched as you pressed against him, chest smushed against his as you peppered his face with kisses.

Polnareff cleared his throat awkwardly. “(Y/N), maybe don’t do that here? This is a semi-public pool.”

You paused in your affections to look at the Frenchman. “It’s not like we’re fucking or something, but fine. I’m gonna go swim.”

You slid back off of your now flustered boyfriend to take a dip, leaving the others to laugh at Avdol’s embarrassed state. 

“Avdol,” Polnareff snickered. “Got something you need to take care of, friend?”

“Polnareff. Shut your mouth.”

#jjba #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #jojos bizarre adventure stardust crusaders #jjba stardust crusaders #Stardust Crusaders #joseph joestar #Jotaro Kujo #Jean Pierre Polnareff #polnareff #muhammed avdol #avdol #Noriaki Kakyoin #kakyoin #jojo #jojo joestar #x reader #reader #y/n #you #x y/n #suggestive content #swearing #fluff #fluffy #teasing #cute #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #jjba x reader

[jomiddlemarch]

While You Were Sleeping

Chapter 4

Some people, primarily Muggles, count sheep when they have trouble falling asleep.

Wizards preferred Puffskeins or occasionally crups. Molly Weasley had once admitted she counted crups in Weasley sweaters, after George had spiked her tea with something she made him pull from the store shelves.

(Hermione did not believe anyone who said they counted dragons other than Hagrid, who listed them off by their forenames.)

Hermione preferred facts.

Fact: the Eguzkiko continued to think she and Draco were a married couple.

Fact: Draco was fluent in at least five languages.

Fact: Draco wore a subtle cologne that smelled like Hermione imagined the Silk Road would, minus the camels.

(Unconfirmed fact: this was exactly what Amortentia now smelled like to Hermione, forget cut grass and parchment.)

Fact: Hermione’s facts were usually about statistics, geopolitical historical alliances, and characters in Dickens’ novels because her father had loved those dearly but since the start of this mission, her facts had increasingly, exclusively become All About Draco.

Fact: Hermione appeared to have Feelings for sodding brilliant, widely accomplished and knicker-incineratingly fit Draco Black Malfoy, Esq., Feelings she felt ill-equipped to express.

Fact: She felt no more drowsy now than when she’d extinguished the reading lamp and turned on her side to avoid trying to make out his profile or the exquisite line of his neck against the pillowcase.

Fac—THUMP.

“What was that?” she exclaimed.

“I don’t—” Draco began.

THUMP. Thump. thump.

“What the bloody fuck?!” Draco said, sitting bolt upright. There was a yelping quality to his cry, that couldn’t be denied, though his voice was still pitched low enough that no one would have called it a shriek. Also, being bolt upright showed his broad shoulders to notable advantage (who knew pyjamas could be so impeccably tailored?)

In any case, Hermione had that covered, the shriek-department that is. She did manage to keep it to one solitary shriek that she choked back at the end, right at the moment when Draco reached over and grabbed her upper arms. She only had a split second to evaluate the grabbing, but it was definitely from the making-sure-you’re-real and I’ve-got-you-don’t-worry categories, not the get-a-hold-of-yourself-witch or I’m-about-to-shake-you-silly-for-being-a-silly-bint. Also, his hands were big and warm and transiently made her feel very much cherished and she was glad she’d tied back her hair so he didn’t accidentally pull any of it, though the prospect of his hands gently running through her curls was dreadfully appealing.

When she wasn’t devoting her not inconsiderable brain-power towards the mental recitation of facts, she was capable of noticing quite a bit.

“Are you all right?” he asked. With the grabbing, he’d closed the distance between them and they were close enough she could see the hints of green and blue in his grey eyes, the faint shadow of his beard, a darker shade than his hair. There was a small scar near his left temple and she wondered at what curse had caught him there, how badly he’d been injured to leave such a mark impervious to the Healers at St. Mungo’s. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, are you?” she said. Her heart was still beating very fast, but it had more to do with Draco than the earlier noise.

“Yes,” he said. He loosened his grasp on her and let his hands drop, but they still rested on her forearms, lightly enough she could shrug him off. She did not.

“What was that?” she said when the moment had started to grow too intense, the hollow at the base of his throat too tempting.

“I don’t know,” he said. “At home, I’d guess it might be an old house settling for the night or a storm brewing, but here—”

“Could it be something magic?” she said. She swallowed, then said what she’d first thought, when all she had felt was terror, when she’d wanted to call out his name. “Don’t laugh at me—”

“I won’t,” he said.

“A monster. Under the bed. I know it sounds foolish,” she said.

Hermione was absolutely certain that every single one of her acquaintances, with the sole exception of Luna Lovegood, would agree it sounded foolish. And even Luna was likely to give her reassuring smile and tell her that kidakomori were far fonder of people than people ever gave them credit for and Hermione would have to pretend that she was aware of kidakomori and their undeservedly dubious reputation.

“It doesn’t sound foolish. Not to me,” Draco said. 

“What?”

“I didn’t want to say it first, because I agree it makes me sound unhinged, but I also thought of a monster under the bed,” he replied.

“You were supposed to talk sense to me. To tell me I was overreacting,” Hermione said.

“Are you even capable of overreacting?” Draco countered. “I realize I am tacitly validating your prior assault on me—”

“We were children! And you were beastly,” Hermione said.

“And I deserved it,” he said.

“Well, no one deserves to be hit,” Hermione said.

“I understand the progressive Muggle approach to childhood discipline and in general, I don’t disagree but in that particular situation, I must say I did. And not only because I was making a point.” He smiled at her and she liked it far too much.

“Do you really think there’s a monster under our bed?” she said, trying not to whisper and failing. 

“You said our bed,” Draco replied.

“That’s what you’re choosing to focus on? Not the monster part? And the fact that we have no wands and even wandless magic is verboten in here, even assuming either of us knew what spell to cast for a monster under the bed,” she ranted. Her exposure to Parseltongue had been so negative (whose wasn’t?) she kept herself from hissing, but it was a close call. Draco moved his right hand from her forearm to her wrist and then laced his fingers through hers. It would have been the sexiest move she could remember any man making except for the possible monster beneath them.

“Inanis belua, but you have to put the emphasis on the bel and let the final a drift. Like leviosa,” Draco said.

“Inanis belua,” she repeated.

“Perfect,” he said. “You’ve always had an ear for incantation.”

“How did you learn it?” Hermione asked. It seemed he wasn’t going to make her face the implications of our bed. At least not at the moment.

“Narcissa,” Draco said, again referring to his mother by her first name. Hermione almost wished for another round of eerie thumps to distract them both from the ticking bomb that was his relationship with his mother. “She coddled me, as much as she could—the Malfoy heir was expected to be superior in all regards, but the Blacks tend to be high-strung, overly sensitive. It was a secret, that she taught me the spell. I wasn’t to tell my father.”

“I don’t think it’s coddling to make your little boy feel safe,” Hermione said, hoping she’d picked the least inflammatory aspect of what he’d shared. The less she said about Lucius Malfoy the better. Even after all these years, she wasn’t sure she could talk about him without venom and however Draco felt, the man was still his father, albeit immured in Azkaban .

“Perhaps,” Draco said.

“I suppose you think it’s horribly middle-class of me. Or Muggle,” she said.

“I think you were raised by kinder people than I was,” he said. Hermione thought of the estrangement that existed between her and her parents and also how it had been as the Grangers’ little girl, the plush calico kitten that had been tucked with her under her covers, the bedtime stories, the trips to the library with a trolley to bring home her latest acquisitions. When she thought of them, they were still Mum and Dad.

“It was Bellatrix who taught her the spell,” Draco said, watching her face. His own eyebrows were drawn together, a serious expression similar to one he wore when wrangling with a particularly thorny bit of medieval Eguzkikan legislation.

“I take it you’re of the confront your fear persuasion,” Hermione said. “Or is this some kind of weirdly roundabout apology Or a Pureblood thing? If it’s a Pureblood thing, you’ll have to give me some context, like whether it’s all the Sacred Twenty-Eight or just the Blacks. It doesn’t feel authentically Malfoy.”

“I’m not sure what it is,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with his left hand, still hanging onto her right with his own. “I thought, we’re talking about monsters, from our past, we’ve never spoken about what happened with Bellatrix. We’re sleeping together every night, it seemed odd not to address it but perhaps that was better—"

“It wasn’t better. But this isn’t necessary,” she said.

“I think it is,” Draco replied. “Necessary, but not better. She’s so hard to talk about and no one wants to, beyond cursing her, and I understand, but to not talk about her, it’s as stupid to me as blasting Andromeda off the tapestry. And I’ve never told you how terribly sorry I am that I couldn’t figure out some other way to help you, when she was hurting you. I don’t know what I could have done but that’s not enough, Hermione. It never was and now—”

Draco broke off and Hermione found herself raising her left hand to cup his cheek, stroking her thumb across his cheekbone. It went on far to long for him to mistake is for only gentleness.

“D’you know, I think we’ve had enough of monsters,” she said. “Only I wonder—”

“What?” he said.

“There’s been no more noise. Might we have done wandless magic with that spell of yours, banished the bedframe’s resident horror to parts unknown? And if we did, will the Eguzkiko be deeply offended and break off diplomatic relations?” Hermione asked.

“I won’t tell,” Draco said. “Wandless is near-impossible to trace and tandem wandless hasn’t been recorded. Or regulated in any magical region. I think we’re safe.”

*

Fact: Draco’s eyes weren’t only grey.

Fact: Draco had been a little boy afraid of monsters.

Fact: Hermione wanted to fall asleep holding Draco Black Malfoy’s hand. And he let her.

#dramione #there was only one bed #fake marriage #rom-com #but with angst #hermione POV #hermione granger #draco malfoy #hermione x draco #post-hogwarts #epilogue what epilogue #sleepy time tropes #diplomat!hermione #lawyer!draco #getting into family stuff #the author repudiates JK Rowling

[saeneryis]

A Night to Remember

Includes: Viktor x Reader (gn) Tags: nsfw, finger sucking, gn reader, porn with plot, eventual smut, wholesome, pinning, viktor doms you yes, casual drinking.

Summary: Parties were never really your favorite thing; but giving into Mel's request, you decide to attend, and keep your lover Viktor some warm company. What is bound to happen when passion begins boiling between you two lovebirds?

"May the celebration begin!" The dazzling councilwoman exclaimed, before the room was consumed over a wave of glasses clanking together in unison. You found yourself sitting in one of the nearby tables, toying with the flowery petals that decorated the extravagant-looking centerpiece. "I thought you weren't coming." Butterflies fluttered inside of you as you saw Viktor quickly come down from behind the stage towards your table, and approached to kiss your cheek. "Never thought these kind of events were really your cup of tea." He sat down. "Well..

At the core, you've never been an enjoyer of social gatherings of this size and caliber. "I don't have a place there." You insisted to Mel as she rummaged through your wardrobe. It's not like it was going to work anyways; everyone, incluiding you, seemed to always give into her requests. The thought of her being some kind of sorceress with mind control powers has crossed your mind before, but you'd rather not focus on such impossible things this early in the morning.

Placing her hand close to your shoulder, the councilwoman gave you a comforting smile. "Well, I still think you should be present. Viktor's coming too, you know... And.. I believe you two are very fond of each other.. isn't that correct?" "I-" "Give it a chance, darling. You'll look just as beautiful as starlight." Medarda pulled a particularly elegant outfit from inside the closet. Adorned with a radiant smile, she posed herself on your left. "What do you say?"

"So you said yes, I presume..?" A snarky look emerged from Viktor's face as he turned around at you, to which, you gleefully responded to with the most extreme display of annoyance you have ever showed to anyone.

"What makes you think that, Vik?"

A chuckle escaped from his mouth. "Seeing you standing in front of me, looking as beautiful as you ever were." Your expression shifted into absolute embarassment; even though you had been together for a couple of years now, the thought of him going out of his zone ocasionally to surprise you with heart warming words still hit like a truck, especially in public.

"Viktor!" You exclaimed in shame as red shaded your cheeks. "Are you drunk?"

"Eeh." He shaked his head in disagreement. "Sudden experimentation often leads to the best results, and in our case-- I have to say, I quite enjoyed seeing your reaction." "Can't say I didn't like it either." As the sight of his amber eyes pulled you deeper into him, your lips quickly found way over his, sharing a loving moment in a chaotic moment. Suddenly, nothing else mattered. Not the speech, not the rest of the people. Only you two. Could this moment last forever, you would opt for it without a single thought.

"O-OoOh!" A small curse escapes your lips as both you and Viktor pull away from each other at the unpleasant surprise. "H-Hey! Jayce." You stammered in awkwardness, luckily, your lover was quick to back you up. "What brings you here?" A certain insecurity seemed to develop under his voice. The man gulped. "I- Uh, well.." He laughed. "I, I, DRINKS! Yeah, you guys, uh. Want.. drinks? THERE'S THE TABLE OVER THERE AND I-" A greater, much more, delicate presence took over the conversation.

"Come on now Jayce, stop nagging them." After Mel's gracious words, he seemed to retreat while mouthing the words "i'm sorry" in what looked to be a very funny display. The woman approached his ear and whispered something, which seemed to send the man flying accross into the bartending area.

"So sorry for that." Merdarda apologized. "Jayce can have very.. uh, wrong timings sometimes."

"At this point, I don't really mind him. He's fun to tease, although.. well we were pretty much in the middle of something very important." He approached your ear and whispered in a very low raspy tone. "Which we will continue later on, of course."

Jayce came back to the party with a tray of freshly-made martinis, leaving them over the table and sitting next to Mel. "A toast. For our future."

So, here you were; the greatest event of the year. The beautiful chandeliers adorning the ceiling seemed almost blinding-- on a good way-- which would probably make Mel happy. Hours passed, yet, excitement remained present in the atmosphere. "Vik, look what I found!" "Hm?" "It's an ionian treat. They say it tastes like magic." Overflown with excitement you screamed and shaked. "It's wonderful, isn't it!?" Viktor smiled at your beauty; not only was he admiring your emotion, but also everything you had brought into his life. Love, happiness, and a spark he never thought was still inside of him.

"But I want you to try it." You added, lifting the small treat and leaving it on his hands. "Me? Why?" The man questioned in surprise. "I thought you were.. excited to try it."

You rolled your eyes in irony. "I have something else in mind."

"Oh, alright." He obviously didn't understand what you suggested, but oh well. "It's.." He whispered as he surely made fast work of the tart. "It's sweet, and there's a hint of... anise?"

"Is it good?" "Yes, very. You have very, very good taste." "Can I try it then?" A smile formed around your face, as your hands seemed to reach out for his chest, pulling him closer against you.

You both resumed the interrupted fling from earlier, but this time, something was different; Viktor's moves seemed much more erratic, almost as if he had been holding it in for a long time.

"My.." He whimpered, just before your lips met his again, pulling you even closer to him as his slim fingers went through your hair with care. None of you cared anymore. Even if there's people around. Even if Jayce or Mel are looking from the corner of the room, it simply, did not matter any longer.

Your hand went down on his chest, down to his torso, as you slowly appreciated each one of his body muscles.

You both needed each other. More than ever. Right now.

And nobody was going to change that. As soon as the door of the spare guest bedroom closed behind you, Viktor leaned you against a wall, as his wild, uncontrolled kissed made his way down to your neck. "Ngh.. Viktor, I-" You moaned out, but he quickly put his index finger over your mouth. "Shh.." He whispered. "We don't know if there's people around here.."

You nodded, silently enduring the delicious sensation his handscaressing your chest caused to all of your body. You felt the tips of his fingers trailing around your chest from under your clothes, spinning circles around your upper body.

His lips were back against yours, and you felt the hotness of his breath melting your worries away as Viktor carried you over the bed. Completely laid down, the man began stripping your clothes away with such an attention to detail; starting with your underpants, and making his way into your underwear.

His hand reached between your legs, stroking you through the cloth, to which, he was shocked. "You're.. wet. This is.. for me?" He whispered. "I wonder... just how long... you had been thinking about it." Moving your undies to the side, Viktor began eating you out almost desperately, all while shushing you everytime he felt you got louder.

He pulled away. "Mind the sound..."He said once again, but how were you supposed to keep quiet, while you felt his fingers reach for your insides?

His tongue drooled over you, savoring every detail, every stroke, every slurp, with pure and unfiltered passion. By this point, his shirt had been unbuttoned, except for his tie, which was strangely kept around his neck. Spreading your legs wide open, Viktor climbed over the bed.

He invited you to take them off, to which, you complied, and as soon as you lowered the elastic, his big member flopped out; you could tell he was as hungry, and as needy as you were.

He began introducing himself inside of you; giving you time to adjust. By this point, it was impossible to stop the muffled moans escaping from your mouth everytime you felt how it throbbed, and how it pulled back and deeper with each of his slow thrusts. He was quite long, and you could swear, it was reaching places you never thought anyone else ever would, and you were fucking crazy about it.

As his thrusts gained more confidence and began ramping up in speed, a whine left your lips, to which, he shook in surprise. Two fingers from his left hand suddenly found their way inside your mouth, hoping it would help reduce the sound of your breathy moans.

Oh god. This turned you on more than he could have possibly imagined; the stimulation from his hips pushing into yours sent you spiraling into a storm of whines and moans, all which, were very faintly reduced by his slim fingers twirling inside of your mouth.

"I- I-." He moaned out, with the most of his efforts attempting to still nullify any possible sound, yet, it all seemed futile.

"I lo-love you!"

Pulling his fingers out of you, he pulled you closer towards him, getting one last kiss as climax finally reached bay; the combined sensation of his hot breath, his spasming d*ck inside of you, and your shaky legs; you both managed to end at the same time, together.

After a few seconds, Viktor pulled out of you, watching the entirety of his cum drip out of your entrance and over the bed.

Before words could come out of him, you pulled him into the bed alongside you. "Can I ask you something?" "Ask away, darling." Viktor responded. "What was the party even for?" "I have.. no fucking idea."

Writer's Note: And that's the end! I hope if you got all the way here, you enjoyed it! I love writing wholesome, yet... spicy things like these! I'm still looking forward for a full-on long Viktor story, but it will probably be a bit until it sees light. Gotta make sure it's perfect :･ﾟ✧ I want to thank anyone who's liked/reblogged/or even just read my past works- It truly means a lot, and I want to say, thank you! Have a wonderful night.

#viktor arcane x reader #viktor smut #viktor x reader #viktor arcane x you #arcane smut #arcane x reader #arcane headcanon #viktor lol #jayce talis #mel medarda #viktor x you #league of legends x reader

[randonauticrap]

Warm with Me (Licht Klein x Reader)

Happy Gift Witch Day, @nightghoul381 ! I hope you enjoy some darling pre-relationship Licht fluff! <3

Prompt: Cold hands

Suitor: Licht Klein

Warnings: None! Just some soft Licht butterflies-in-your-tummy fluff

~

“Do you think this is enough hay, Licht?” you called from behind a hay bail you were carrying into the barn for Licht’s horse, Marron, to munch on. It was a crisp, late October day, and you rushed to get inside the barn and escape the biting wind that ripped across the landscape, tossing colorful leaves through the air in torrents and keeping your hair permanently in your eyes. 

“Yeah, that’ll be fine.” you heard Licht’s monotone reply directly in front of you and felt the bail of hay being lifted from your grasp. He carried it over to Marron’s stall and plopped it down in front of the door, then got to work pulling it apart and putting it in Marron’s feeder. 

“Want some help?” you asked, not waiting for an answer, and instead plodding over to him and beginning to work beside him. 

“Thanks.” he murmured, not looking at you as he continued to work with the hay. Once you both had filled Marron’s feeding tray and made sure he was satisfied, you headed out of the barn and back towards the kitchen, where you knew Yves would be finishing up the pastries for your tea time. You enjoyed spending time with Licht like this. It was days like these when you felt the closest to him, even though there was often very little chat. Working alongside him, you got to see him let his guard down a little and relax into whatever task you were doing. It’s when he gave you those beautiful gentle smiles that set your heart racing every time, and when he looked at you with tenderness rather than apathy. To anyone else, it probably seemed like the same old Licht, but you knew better. You had always paid closer attention to Licht than perhaps you should have, observing how his expressions shifted, no matter how minute; you knew how he liked his tea, what desserts were his favorite and least favorite, and you could tell when he was happy, or irreparably sad. 

Tasks like training or taking care of Marron always had him settling into a place of calm, where he didn’t seem to think about anything, and you always thought he looked freer then, less restrained, less tortured. “Hey,” His level tone reached your ears like a fog light in the haze of your thoughts and you turned to him, your eyes still catching up with your mind to focus on him. His eyes were on your hands and you looked down to see what had him so interested. The tips of your fingers were a deepening shade of red, indicative of the chill that had taken hold of them. You wriggled them, trying to work the icy stiffness from them, but before much feeling had returned, a pair of larger, much warmer hands covered your own. 

You nearly gasped in surprise before peeking up at Licht, who had begun to gently massage the pads of your fingers. “Your hands are too cold. You’re gonna lose blood flow.” He explained briefly, not meeting your gaze. You were almost thankful he didn’t, because then he would certainly have been able to see how flushed your face was, and not from the cold. You were praying he couldn’t feel how hard your heart was beating through the pulsepoint on your wrist as the rough pads of his fingers grazed over your soft, sensitive skin. He took his time with each finger, rolling it between his and pressing on it in every direction until he seemed satisfied with it. You had never had him touch you like this before; when he did touch you it was a gloved hand on your arm or your back, gently guiding you or halting you in your tracks. But you could get used to the feeling of his skin against yours, you thought as you stared at his hands at work. 

‘I wonder what his touch would feel like elsewhere.’ The thought crossed your mind before you could stop it and there went your heart again, racing like a horse across an open field. And you tried to suppress it after that, you really did, but with each stroke of his dutiful thumb across your shivering palms, you wondered what it would feel like if he touched your cheek like that, or your lips, or your neck, or-

At long last, he dropped your hands and started putting his gloves back on, and you turned away before you dared to let your heart know about the blush you were certain you had seen on his cheeks.

~

Tags for the Lovelies: @rhodolitesroseforclavis @aquagirl1978 @ikehoe @queengiuliettafirstlady @maries-gallery @veervers @nightghoul381 @itsjudesfault @xbalayage @kissmetwicekissmedeadly

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen series #ikeseries #licht klein #ikepri licht #ikemen prince licht #licht klein fluff #ikepri fluff #ikemen prince fluff #otome game #cybird ikemen #ikepri fanfic #ikepri fanfiction #ikemen prince fanfic #ikemen prince fanfiction #Happy Gift Witch Day!

[welcometothejianghu]

Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 절대 그이/My Absolute Boyfriend

My Absolute Boyfriend is the 2019 Korean live-action adaptation of the Watase Yuu manga "Absolute Boyfriend." (There are two other adaptations, one Taiwanese and one Japanese.) It tells the story of a woman who has just broken up with her celebrity boyfriend, and the robot who becomes a real boy by falling in love with her.

(And yes, the reason we started watching it was because of Yeo Jingoo, since the tantalizing prospect of "that guy who played Han Juwon, playing a robot boyfriend" was too amazing to pass up.)

I need to note right off the bat: I am not usually a consumer of bippy k-dramas, romcoms, or het romance in media in general. No shade to anyone who likes these thing; they're just not my regular cup of tea. So if your tastes are akin to mine, you may have looked at the poster and been like, hm, no thank you.

Thus I am here to try and sell you on it even if you are not a fan of these genres.

This show is so unwatched that (as far as I can tell) there is nothing for it on AO3. There are a mere eight hits for the manga, Zettai Kareshi | Absolute Boyfriend, but there's nothing at all for this adaptation. This is an absolute crime, for reasons I will detail in the forthcoming five reasons to watch (above and beyond the simple pleasure of watching Yeo Jingoo be a handsome goober, though that remains a serious point in its favor):

1. Balls entirely to the wall

You know those Tumblr posts where someone comments and is like, at no point could I have predicted what the next word in that sentence would be? Yeah, that, only the sentence is the show.

This show is absolutely bonkers. It is absolute storytelling mayhem. It is gleefully head-clutching weird. Someone told it that girls like exactly three things -- cute boys in adorable outfits, cute boys with their shirts off, and cute boys in Situations -- and it is ready to deliver.

I could tell you what the plot of the show is, or at least I could try, but that wouldn't convey the sheer volume of shenanigans it gets up to. I feel like every time it had a flashback montage (set to one of its six licensed pop songs), I was like, oh yeah, that happened.

The thing, too, is that it's so self-aware. This show knows precisely what it is, and it's having fun with it. The acting is often melodramatic, but obviously very consciously so. I'm not going to say the show never takes itself seriously (because it does -- see my point #5), but it never doesn't know exactly what it is.

Browsing the MyDramaList page, I can see that a lot of viewers had lukewarm feelings on the show as a whole. (Normally I don't make the mistake of reading the comments, but since this is such a non-property in English-speaking fandom, I had to go find out what the hell.) And yeah, I can imagine that if you came into this expecting a more straight-faced entry in the genre, what you get could be confusing and alienating.

If you watch this, take off your nitpicker's hat. There are many, many points that do not make sense. Just go with it. Let the cute boys take off their shirts. Kiss a robot. Embrace chaos.

2. A++ Girlfriend

Eom Dada is great. She's just so weird. I love her and I absolutely understand why those two boys want to get with her.

She is a special effects makeup artist who runs her own three-person team that specializes in sci-fi/horror properties. One of the first things we see her doing is mixing up a bunch of different types of fake blood, because, hey, a lot of different stunt people are going to die today, and you can't just use one type of blood for everybody!

She is a dadgumn professional, is what she is.

What she isn't, however, is a pick-me, not-like-the-other-girls girl. Several times, she gets dressed up real cute and femme, and she never expresses negativity toward her more girly-girl friends. It's not that she's rejecting femininity so much as that her vision of femininity is big enough to include creating beautiful fake severed body parts. When someone describes a female character as "quirky," I cringe reflexively. But that's what she is! She's got quirks! She's a nice, normal girl who is also a big weirdo.

Since I did go read the comments, I found out pretty quickly that a lot of viewers hate her. Part of this, I'm sure, is just your generic vitriol you see aimed at any woman in a show, because holy fuck, we sure do hate women.

But I think part of it may come from how she's not asking "how high?" every time those boys tell her they'd like her to jump. There's some real viciousness out there toward women that turn down men, epecially from other women. Without getting too much into psychoanalysis about it, an awful lot of hate gets directed from other women toward the female ex-/partners of desirable men, much of which comes from the terrible assumption that if you were in her position, you'd be appropriately grateful! You'd treat that boy right! That lucky bitch doesn't know how good she's got it!

...You see how that's bad, though, right? Like, really bad and toxic?

Eom Dada tells those boys "no" when she doesn't want what they're offering. She's realizes early on that setting yourself on fire to keep your partner warm is terrible, so she stops. She's going to make them wait until she wants it -- and if she never wants it, well, those boys just get to keep right on waiting!

Read me loud and clear: I'm not saying the only reason to dislike Eom Dada is misogyny. Sometimes you just don't like a character! It happens! It's legal! What I am saying, though, is that when you look at a lot of the hate toward her all at once, certain trends emerge, and they're more than a little bit ugly.

And I think that's unfair because she's an absolute pumpkin who deserves all the smooches and spicy noodles she wants.

3. ...Are they gonna kiss?

And by "they" here, I don't mean Girlfriend and Robot Boyfriend, who obviously smooch. I mean Robot Boyfriend and Ex-Boyfriend.

They hate one another! They make heartbreaking sacrifices for one another! They're vicious rivals! They team up to solve mysteries! They're incredibly suspicious of one another! They trust one another completely! What the actual hell is going on with these two? Because oh boy, the show itself sure doesn't know.

Their relationship yo-yos constantly throughout the length of the series. They're never friends, but they get weirdly close on several occasions, including rescuing one another from terrible predicaments. They also both seem fascinated with each other, above and beyond how they're competing for the affections of the same girl. The actors have some solid chemistry (much of it comedic) in their shared scenes. They're certainly not afraid to get right up in each other's personal space.

This isn't queerbaiting, it's not using gay as a punchline, it's ... something, that's for sure. And by that I mean, I don't know if I've ever seen a more powerful vindication of the principle that the optimal solution to every love triangle is a threesome.

This to me is one of the flaws of the show, that it has decided it must never acknowledge the strength of their independent bond outside of its place in the central love conflict, and to keep from doing so, it keeps nuking Ex-Boyfriend's character back to square one. He learns about love and trust and growth! ...and then we need the plot to have a which boy will she choose??? conflict, so he's got to unlearn all of that real quick so he can be a real dillhole again. If it didn't feel obligated to do that, things would get sexy fast, I'm just saying.

Here is the main reason I'm baffled that I'm getting no AO3 hits for this: These three would be one hell of a throuple. Where are my bisexual horndog fix-it fics where all three of them wind up sharing Ma Wangjoon's comically large bed?

4. Weirdly healthyish messages about romance?

I mentioned earlier that het romance in media is not my thing, and one of the main reasons it's not is how many just gross messages it delivers about normative gender roles and behaviors.

This show absolutely starts that way. Robot Boyfriend is raised on all your classic romcoms and taught that love is all about giving everything with no concern for your own well-being, while at the same time overriding all your partner's objections because you know what she really wants. When he first latches on to Eom Dada, he's kind of your classic overbearing comedy stalker who doesn't take no for an answer, because True Love.

And then ... he changes. He realizes that his romcom education is not going to help here, so he decides to figure out what kind of boyfriend she actually wants. Once he does that, he starts to figure out that he wants to be loved too. And that's when things get interesting.

He never stops being pretty forward about things, but it becomes far more playful when he's not pressuring her, just reminding her that the offer is still on the table. Eom Dada then responds by becoming clear about how she definitely wants to take this boy out for a spin -- just at her own pace, when she herself is ready for it.

It makes an interesting contrast to how, when she was with Ex-Boyfriend, all she wanted was for him to acknowledge her (which he wanted to do too, but couldn't, for absolutely bonkers reasons, because this show is just Like That). The two of them are still in love, but the show makes it clear that being in love doesn't mean you're going to be good together -- and it doesn't mean you have to forgive the bullshit your ex-partner pulled back when you were together.

But the love triangle isn't even the sole source of romance! There's a whole 'nother love ... triangle? quadrilateral? Whatever, you've also got Robot Boyfriend's charmingly goofy MIT-educated co-creator/trainer/big brother, who becomes the object of affection for at least two of the supporting characters.

My take on this is that Handsome Robot Hyung deserves the whole harem: the boss lady who can pick him up, the cute thirsty girl who does yoga, and the sweet gay-coded boy who is so impressed that he knows robots. (This is another tragic casualty of the NO HOMO attitude of the show, where that boy should be treated as a legitimate love interest, but can never be. But we know better!)

I'm used to seeing love triangles solved in one of three ways: 1) one point on the triangle gets demonized so significantly as to make the other one the obvious choice; 2) the eventually unchosen point gets given a Consolation Prize Significant Other so we don't fell too bad about how they didn't get chosen; or 3) one point dies or is otherwise removed from the narrative, letting the other two hook up without guilt. None of those things happen to either of these love polygons. Despite some genre-appropriate catty, melodramatic speed bumps, everything gets resolved in the manner of adults with reasonable amounts of emotional maturity. It's weirdly kind of nice.

(This isn't to say there's no toxic bullshit that slips in -- for instance, I still don't know what to make of that one arguing couple, or what Robot Boyfriend says to them. It's just much less than I expected.)

Your mileage may vary about the choices the show makes at the very end. It's not how I would have ended it, sure, but I also don't think it could have ended any other way -- remember, this is a show that never forgets what it is. It is contractually obligated by its genre conventions to keep certain narrative promises. If anything, I think it's interesting how much it feels it can get away with leaving hopeful yet unresolved, up to and including how many people are still comfortably single at the end of the show. Partnered romance isn't always the solution to everything! Sometimes you've got your career and you've got your friends, and now you've got some time to work on yourself! Maybe it won't always be that way, but it sure is right now. And that's great.

5. A surprisingly sophisticated meditation on memory and mortality (say that five times fast)

Real talk: In the past four months, I have lost a lot of people, places, and animals who were very dear to me, and had some close calls with a couple more. It has sucked exactly as much as you think it has.

So yeah, in the last few episodes, I blew through some tissues.

To a certain degree, it's exactly the kind of melodramatic tearjerker narrative you'd expect from a property like this. And let me tell you what, there is nothing wrong with getting a good, sappy cry going because of the overwrought dramas of fictional people. There are plenty of objectively mediocre shows and movies I put on because I know I'm going to be a blubbering wreck by the end.

This show, however, has the extra layer of interest that Robot Boyfriend is both Boyfriend and Robot. I don't want to spoil anything, but I will say that having a guy designed to be reformatted every time a new person smooches him adds a whole lot of interesting layers to what counts as death and mourning.

Add that to how Eom Dada is still grieving the loss of her beloved father, who taught her everything she knew about her career, and you get some surprisingly moving little moments that creep in through the wacky hijinks that make up the rest of the show.

Look, it's nothing I'd ever teach in a Philosophy seminar, or anything so profound as that. But it's quiet and nice, and it has more depth than I expected, and it all hit me right in my tender little feels box. If that's the kind of thing you're open to, you could do a lot worse.

Thinking about giving this one a shot?

Viki's got the series in its full 40-episode run. (It's actually 20 hour-long episodes split in half because of commercial break rules, if you're wondering why it's sometimes Like That.) So does Tubi. I guess your choice then becomes which one's ads you'd rather sit through.

I think if you go into this with the attitude that you're just going to go with it all and laugh at how zany it is, you're in for a fine time. Whether or not you think it's good is up to your standards of quality. But it's hard to deny that it's a whole lot of fun.

And then get your ass to AO3 and give me some OT3! Mama needs these three cutie patooties to smooch~

#절대 그이 #my absolute boyfriend #absolute boyfriend #k drama #rec post #i made this #honorary danmei

[thedeafprophet]

A Proposal Of A New Venture

Alex attempts to slam the door shut in front of him, which is met with an offended 'Hey!' as he sulks back towards the stove. Alex has already moved to add more water to the kettle when Jamie forces the door back open behind him. "That is exceedingly rude, you know! No way to greet a guest." Jamie huffs as they brush off their sleeves, as if the matter of being met with the door had somehow gotten them dirty.

A conversation of how Jamie convinces Alex to join up with the GHR board to begin with.... figured I ought to finish editing it in honour of the new update ;P

Word count: 1.7k , Rating: Teen (mostly for a tiny bit of swearing), Category: Gen. Also posted on ao3

What begins as an unremarkable day would later be something Alex thinks back on as the trigger for a turning point, in his already strange enough life. It was a rare moment that month that Alex had been spending the day at home. Instead, Alex had spent most of his time continuing to explore the edges of dreams, leading to many moments of guiding dreamers, fighting nightmares, and getting totally not lost, rather than spending much time at home.

Rather, Alex found it difficult to be at his apartment lately. Everything felt too hollow, too empty, after everything that occurred. Standing alone in that empty apartment brought on an uncomfortable feeling, and one too many sleepless nights had him waking up half expecting to see another there. 

He had of course tried to go back to what his life had been before. There were always more heists to plan, more plans to foil, more people to support.  But none of it was the same; nothing was like it used to be. Alex knows it never will be again.

He blinks rapidly to pull himself out of the thoughts, pushing those feelings back into the recesses of his mind. There was nothing he could do about it, the best course of action had already been taken, so all he could do is avoid the feelings. And avoids the apartment, in turn.

For now though, Alex was home, taking the time to try and resettle into the rooms he’d barely been in for the past month. Surely it will just take effort, and time, for things to feel somewhat normal again. 

As he sets about lighting the stove’s fire to make tea for the afternoon, Alex hears a sudden rap at the door. 

Rather than immediately moving to answer it, Alex stays where he’s kneeling by the stove and stares at the doorway. He doesn’t get many visitors, and he can’t fathom why anyone would try door to door soliciting in this part of Spite. 

Maybe if he just stays very, very, still, the knocking will go away. 

Of course, knocking comes again, more insistent this time. He still debates waiting it out, but in the end Alex sighs, as he gets up from the stove to answer the door.

Upon opening it, he immediately regrets that decision. Looking down on the shade of dyed russet hair, Alex knows his afternoon is about to be anything but quiet. 

"Oh goodness- I thought you’d never answer!” Pops an all too familiar, jaunty voice. “It's horribly impolite to leave someone waiting.”

"No."

Alex attempts to slam the door shut in front of him, which is met with an offended 'Hey!' as he sulks back towards the stove. Alex has already moved to add more water to the kettle when Jamie forces the door back open behind him.

"That is exceedingly rude, you know! No way to greet a guest." Jamie huffs as they brush off their sleeves, as if the matter of being met with the door had somehow gotten them dirty. They have the air of an offended parakeet as they cross their arms and look at him with an insulted look. 

Alex remains unimpressed, and doesn’t look up from his actions as he moves the kettle to the now heated stovetop. 

"I gave you this address for emergencies Jamie." 

"This could be an emergency!" Jamie pouts as they plop themself down on Alex's couch. They glance around the place with a raised eyebrow. “Why are you still living here in the first place? You're not destitute now, are you?"

Alex takes a few calming moments to stare at the flames of the stove before leaving the kettle to boil, and turns back towards Jamie. 

"Jamie I swear, if you just came here to insult my home-"

"No!" Jamie sat up in brisk movement from where they had been lounging. They clap their hands with a grin. "I'm here for a very important reason: I have a proposition to make!"

"Not interested." 

Alex doesn’t want to know what foolishness they got up to this time. There’s been more than enough scandals passed to know this can’t be anything good. 

"Aw c'mon, I didn't even say what it was." They're back to pouting. "This could be fun.... dont you at least want to know what it is?" 

Alex pinches the bridge of his nose as he mentally debates if he could just flee from his own house, half planning his escape through the doorway, or the mirror. Jamie seems to take this moment of silence as a sign to continue. 

"I mean, I ever tried stopping by before, but it's like you're never even here! And I know if I sent you a letter you'd never read it. So, today must be the day I make my case!"

Alex rolls his eyes. "I don't need the backstory. Just tell me what you want so you can leave."

Jamie stands up with bravado, beginning a tour around the room as they make their statement.

"A new railway line is being proposed: from London, all the way to the edge of Hell! It would be a new venture full of potential and opportunity. And I- " they give a half bow as they point to themself, "have signed on to be a director of this board."

Alex blinks rapidly at the display. " Since when have you been interested in trains?"

"What, a guy cant try new things? I've been bored- It seems like a good opportunity for something new." They seem so enthusiastic as they speak, so much so that Alex knows that it isn't the truth.

"So let me get this straight- you signed up with a bunch of rich half-wits to start on some new railway line…. for no particular reason?" Alex stops paying attention to their movements as the tea kettle has finished boiling, moving ahead to finishing brewing his tea. He has no intention of his plans being ruined due to this disturbance. 

Jamie tsks and crosses their arms, half muttering under their breath. "You would put it like that. But really, it's such a potential opportunity! Something new and interesting!"

"And what does any of this have to do with me?"

"Well..." for the first moment, Jamie's bravado slightly falters, as they glance to the side before finishing their statement, fiddling with their fingers. “ We are going to need resources in order to make the rail line. And you're particularly....resourceful"

Alex raises an eyebrow as he places the tea tray down on the table. 

"

You want me to steal for you?"

"I want you to acquire things, and I don’t need to know the specifics!” They give an enthusiastic thumbs up. 

"Jamie-" Alex doesn’t even manage to get a word in as Jamie's tirade continues. 

"I mean what, would you prefer we acquire steel through the official means. Do you know how high those things get taxed?"  

Alex's nose scrunches at both the interruption and the thought of putting more power into the hands of the masters. The specifics of who’s in charge of that particular trade is especially off putting. 

"I don't-"

"And Josephine has already agreed to use her lab help with the rails construction so really-"

"That's enough!" Alex's voice raises in his frustration, putting his foot down on the endless ramble.  His hands are clenched as he speaks, notably standing taller in front of Jamie, who has very rapidly stopped their movement. "Let. Me. Talk."

Jamie shrinks back at, from their point of view, the seemingly sudden outburst. 

"Ah. Right, sorry about that.” They rub awkwardly at the back of their neck.

The deafening silence hangs between them as Alex recollects himself. He never likes when his temper flares, but Jamie's presence always seems to bring it out. With a deep, weary sigh, Alex collects his cup of tea, going into his stash of sugar for the occasion. 

He pulls out a chair by the table and sits down, sipping at his tea in the awkward silence. Jamie reaches for the cup that has been set aside for them, the momentary quiet broken only by the restless tapping of fingers on a cup. 

Alex does his best to unclench his teeth as he speaks. 

"I.... Don’t think this sounds like a good idea. Having to deal with that level of…" He waves his hand, searching for the word, "bureaucracy nonsense would be torture.” 

Jamie's eyes brighten slightly, looking hopeful at the indication he's thinking about it all. 

"I can do most of the talking, I swear! You'll only have to come for appearance sake! " Jamie glances down at their cup as they finish. "And, y'know. Could be nice, to work all together again." 

Well, shit. What can he even say? 

Alex's fingers tap against the table. This is a horrible idea. There's so many things that could go wrong, getting involved. Prime among them being just how irritating it would immediately become. 

Despite that, the idea of a new reason for thefts was compelling, especially as he considers potential targets. Alex wasn't sure how well that would work for an actual 'company' with records and finances, but if that wasn’t an aspect he had to deal with…. Well, perhaps he could be convinced. 

Jamie had moved to stare intensely at him as he pondered, raptly awaiting his response. 

Alex sighs as he runs a hand down his face. 

"I'll think about it," is all the responses he gives. He knows he's going to regret this. 

Jamie's face splits into a wide grin of victory, clapping their hands together as they move to stand up. 

"I knew you'd see the vision eventually! The first meeting of the board is going to be next week, I'll come get you so you don't forget!"

"Wait, I didn't-'' Alex doesn't even have time to stutter out that he didn't actually agree to anything, before Jamie is bounding to the door. With a playful salute they take their leave - clearly intending to make sure they have the last word on the discussion. 

Alex blinks rapidly at his apartment, suddenly empty once more. He's not even fully sure he knows what he’s agreed to. 

All he can do is lean back in his chair and finish his tea. At least the rest of the afternoon could be spent in silence.

Alex shakes his head. This is going to be a mess. 

#wanted to try posting the writing in a tumblr post like ive seen others do #anyway this was just me establishing these twos dynamic #really appreciate anyone who's interested in reading about my silly little characters <3 #my writing #oc: alex #oc: jamie #fic