#I’ll model for y-BIRD!!!

[50cal-fullauto-astarion]

to leave the blood stay in the veins

monster!könig x f!rcursed!reader (no use of 'y/n') 6.6k words NSFW!

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT‼️CW: extremely NSFW, descriptions of gore, implied consumption of human flesh by a non-human monster, mention of necrotic curse, monsterfucking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, knotting (no omegaverse), outdoor sex, ambiguous ending, pre-established relationship, 0% proofread, könig and reader are both fucking unhinged.

Day 01 of the Haunted Hoedown Challenge by @/inklore

taboo au (monsterfucking) + "i'll be your dirty little secret, if that's what you're into." + oh no i'm dating the town serial killer

There is a beast in the woods, and it leaves so little meat on the bone that not even carrion birds find value in the corpses it leaves behind.

It’s a strange town in the foothills of the Austrian Alps, full of little sicknesses hiding in the corners, and you learned them well when you moved here. No one goes past the treeline at night. Hardly anyone is outside of home if they can help it. Tourists are the beast’s fodder.

Your boyfriend thinks it’s funny. 

König, under his ever-present hood–a not altogether uncommon sight in your town, people come here when they have something to hide, something they are uncomfortable with or find hideous in themselves, and he has given an unimaginable amount for you out of love–laughs, sharp in the tooth.

“Anyone dumb enough to head into the trees is dumb enough to die,” he teases, but there is an arrogance and a contempt swimming deep in his bloodshot blue eyes. 

“That’s coldblooded, but not wrong,” you tell him, from behind your own mask. Plain thing, blank in expression, modeled from the one from Eyes Without A Face. It covers the ravages of a curse, numb necrosis slowly spreading up your face through the years. “I still want you to get me a gun.”

“What’s a gun going to do against a thing like that?” he asks, tilting his head, the hood bagging off the curled horns that start at his temples and sweep back over his ears. “Something like that, you need silver. I’ll get you a knife. Big one. Nice and fucking sharp, Schatzi.”

The knife isn’t a comfort when the beast begins to hunt in town. It stalks from house to house, preying on people in their beds, their living rooms, their bathtubs–there is no rhyme or reason, not a whit of discernable pattern. 

Only teeth-gouged bones and viscera ground into wall, tile, and carpet alike. Your neighbor falls victim, and you watch the police from your window, flinching when a veteran officer stumbles out into the fall-frosted grass to vomit, sobbing and pulling his hair.

“It got Emil,” you say, still watching through your sheer curtains. 

König nearly cackles from your bed, lounging as he visits. “Good. Emil was a piece of shit. Depperte Fut.”

You glance at him from the corner of your eye, over your shoulder, before returning back to the circus in the yard next door. “‘Stupid cunt’ is a pretty strong insult. He was an asshole, but I don’t think he deserved to die like that,” you mumble.

“You don’t know all that much about your neighbors, Schatzi.”

You begin to rock side-to-side on your hips, the enormous silver blade König gifted you turning over and over in your hands, the point digging lightly into your palm. 

It’s insane, the way you begin to tell yourself that you’ve seen König’s face nearly everyday for the last two years—you can see it right now. He lies on your bed, pointed teeth gleaming under his split philtrum in the soft yellow light of the bedside lamp and the red-blue flash of the cruisers. You know there is a man under the hood, however odd and satyr-seeming.

And yet. And yet.

The blade digs a little too deep, drawing a curse-blackened bead of blood. König’s eyes burn into the back of your neck, and you can only guess his horizontal pupils dilate into black holes. 

Just quit your job. I’ll take care of you.

It’s a simple enough promise, and one you know König will keep, but not one you’re willing to make. You have few shreds of independence, hard-bought through years of fighting back against misfortunes and setbacks, and, no matter the depths with which you love him, you’re not willing to trade your shit wage on faith for love of a man. It doesn’t matter how helplessly besotted he is. 

It’s this molar-cracking grit that delivers you right to the beast. Because you were forced to pick up an extra half shift at the hotel to fold towels behind the front desk, because you needed the money, because you wanted to pay back your beautiful, bloodthirsty boyfriend for the ridiculous blade he begat you. 

The god forsaken thing lumbers down a deserted street, blocks from your little rental, and something fucking horrendous seizes you. It’s enormous, walking on cloven hooves and back-bent legs. Its arms are too fucking long, clawed, jagged. And worst is the skull, bleached white and glowing like a beacon in the dark, an enormous rack of brutally sharp horns dripping trinkets of bone and gold that glints in the street lamp it approaches. 

A horrible fact hits you. It’s not lumbering, it’s wandering. Putting a massive, craggy hand on fences and peering into houses, taking its time, evaluating. You swear you can almost hear it humming. 

You don’t know when your hand found the handle of the silver blade strapped to your belt under your coat, but the leather on the grip bites your palm with the force of your grip, a nauseous, cold sweat terror tearing apart your ability to think. 

It’s a primal fear, one that makes you want to protect your soft, vulnerable neck, even if the blood that warms it runs venomous. 

It’s a bad choice, but there are no good ones. When the beast lifts its head and scents the air, skull snapping your direction and shaking its grisly trophies, you run. You snap the huge blade off your hip and drop into a dead sprint, cutting between yards, trying to escape the horrendous bellow that reverberates through the bony chambers of the monster’s skull.

Choosing to run instead of freezing maybe bought you a few extra minutes before death decided it was time to seize your pulse in reclamation, and it hurts. The physical exertion it takes to bomb through the last stretches of suburbia before the forest closes in feels like you are breaking every bit of your body by forced choice, listening to that awful fucking thing chase after you. 

Your blade makes a slicing sound cutting through the air at your side, the monster’s hooves pound the dirt as it digs in and chases after you, but, good god, it doesn’t sound like it’s even trying.

You don’t dare look back, pushing your body past agony, your lungs shredding in your chest. You’ve never moved this fast, you’ve never run this hard for this long. Your body is TV static—hissing, popping, distant—and, insanely, the urge to cry drills into your eye sockets.

You’re going to die. You’re going to die. You’re going to fucking die, stupidly and dumbly and pointlessly, because you wanted to pay your boyfriend a stupid sum of fucking money, for a stupid fucking knife that he bought you on a stupid fucking joke. 

Two meters from the second worst decision of your life, the monster snaps out, rough hand between your shoulder blades, crashing you into the goddamned dirt. Your eyebrow splits on a tree root, your eyes roll in the back of your head, your hand stays manically tight on the blade, slicing your other arm. 

“Schaaaatzi,” the miserable fucking thing hisses, pressing that same hand between your shoulder blades, pinning you into the freezing dirt. 

Oh, god, no, it has König’s voice. It’s—it’s not him, but it has his voice, thin and washed out as low-hung fog, but you would know that voice. In hell, in high water, in the dirt with a massive, bark-rough hand grinding your skin raw through your coat—you - know - his - voice. 

Furiously, you slash the blade over your head, behind your back, screaming and digging your feet in the dirt. For a brief second, as you hack at the wood of the monster’s hand and wrist, you’re even able to push yourself off the ground by mere inches. The beast growls and shoves you back down twice as hard, knocking the wind out of you, spasming your hand open. The knife drops, and you begin to blindly try digging and dragging yourself away. 

“Stop…hurting…me,” the beast lows, still in your boyfriend’s voice, and you imagine a bathtub full of gnawed bones, a living room with scattered body parts, your kitchen smeared with blood like cave wall art, and you start to scream as loud as your lungs will allow, your mask filling with dirt in your horrendous and futile bid to escape. Bloody murder bellows, filled with rage, wanting to kill and consume and conflagrate.

If König is dead, you will take your pound of flesh. You will either die fighting, or win, and you will hack apart this freak-fuck’s corpse to burn in your woodstove to warm your home. You’ll mount its fucking skull on your front door, so anything else in these woods will know you won’t hesitate to make trophies of them either. 

Bone, warm to the touch, presses against the back of your head. When it breathes, the air is as hot as exhaust, almost scalding your back. “Schatzi,” it bids you slowly once again.

“I’LL KILL YOU!” it rips your throat raw to shriek it, reaching back and almost dislocating your arms to rip at anything you can. Your hands fall on the dressings attached to its horns, you tear off a vertebra, and a gold wedding band, and a bracelet of rave kandi in plastic beads. “IF YOU HURT HIM, I’LL YOU FUCKING KILL YOU!”

The head presses harder, driving your face into the dirt. There is something desperate in the pressure. It spits all at once, grating and wide in a voice you know better than your own, “You pissed off a fucking witch, because you ran out of riddles to tell her, when she was ransoming you to your arshloch grandmother. She never paid. That’s why you were cursed—no one gave a fuck. But I gave her my face for you, to stop it halfway, better than fucking nothing.”

Your rage freezes immediately, your chest heaving under the weight it presses down on you. 

No one knows that. Only König. He’s the only person who would know about his lonely and quiet climb up to the Scottish highlands. Besides you, and the witch, König is the only one who would know why his human face was distorted, malformed, made animalistic. 

“Lee?” you pant, unleashing part of his first name, the only one he ever tolerates. And, fuck, instantly the pressure pulls away, the skull rubbing against your back to soothe it.

“It’s me, Schatzi,” the slow voice promises, nuzzling you. There’s rustling above you that you don’t dare turn to see. “I’m not going to hurt you.” 

A tinkling piece of jewelry lowers in front of your eyes, and you can see that it dangles from an enormous, ligneous finger. You’re being shown a sterling silver charm bracelet. You’re being shown your bracelet, the one you thought you had lost months ago. 

Your hand shoots out, wrapping around the finger, the peeling bark shearing off under your grip. You find instantly that you can pull yourself up on your hip, sitting, caged and protected under the beast’s massive body—under König’s massive body. 

He shifts back onto his digitagrade haunches, holding himself over you, still offering your bracelet. He shudders at your touch on his hand, and you imagine that he may’ve never been handled with kindness in this shape. Which makes a certain amount of sense. Because he fucking kills and eats people.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you snap, staring dead into the hollow sockets of his eyes. He shifts uncomfortably, turning his head. “Why—you have me so fucked up—what have you been thinking—?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, do you have to—”

“Yes, I have to, fucker.” It’s impossible to wrap your head around the magnitude of what a simple secret and a silver bracelet has done to your understanding of the world. A complete unraveling—upheaval, utterly. 

You take the bracelet from his finger, on which it fits like a ring, and push it into your wrist, sitting up on your knees and grabbing him by the underside of his jaw. Though it puts you in his blind spot, staring dead center at the sinus dimples between his eyes, it feels like you have a mote of power over him. 

(If he were asked, he would say the power you hold over him could corrupt, absolutely. He would badly like you to ask someday.)

“Why are you—what are you? Have you always been like this? Or was this new, with the fucking witch? Are—Jesus Christ—why are—the monster isn’t supposed to come into town, why are you in TOWN?” you run off at the mouth, words stalling and crashing and fusing together as your thoughts overwhelm just how quickly you can speak. 

And up from that impossibly deep throat–simultaneously from the center of your brain, and from all around you all at once–crawls König’s pitchy hyena-laugh, edged, always, with cruelty. He butts the jagged end of his nasal cavities into your stomach, catching on the threads of your sweater. 

“Leshy, Schatzi, say it for me.”

Your hands pull his jaw closer, digging the bone into your stomach, wondering if he can feel the pressure of your deep breathing. Oh, fuck, you could crack. This is your König. You start to wonder how many of his perverse buttons you can hit, the part of you that felt shame for your attraction to what the world discarded as ‘ugly’ long ago removed from your emotional bank.

“Leshy,” you say, really leaning into the word, saying it deep in your chest. One of your hands travels the long length to the hinge of his jaw, gripping tight, directing his head to turn so you can meet one of his empty eyes. “Answer my fucking questions.”

The laugh doesn’t come this time. In its place is a near-violent whole-body shudder that wracks through you. 

“Old! Alwaaays been this way,” and even in the strange disconnect of his voice from his physical form, you can tell his arousal is eating away at him in big bites–clipping his speech, broiling his brain with body heat, “can’t remember ever being young, haa-haa. And why do you think I’m hunting in town?”

Another trap, a stupid pop quiz, wanting to test your knowledge of him, or a gotcha! to check your observations and what you had missed.

Your hands get tighter, and you pull his jaw open, marveling at the sharp grooves ground into his teeth, like nightmarish, ivory rook pieces, tall and straight in the dry sockets. His chest begins to heave, his breath fogging into steaming clouds over your hands, and, remarkably, it smells like nothing at all apart from pin needles and snow.

You’d thought you’d smell decaying flesh or rotten blood. The only blood you can smell comes from your own busted brow and sliced arm, crusting black on your skin and in the fabric of your sweater as it coagulates.

“If I was working on a hunter’s instincts, I would say that Schladming has become too good at keeping people out of the forests. Even during daylight hours. It cuts down on prey,” you say, ice cold and clean as a slit throat. Your eyes flick back up to the socket, surrounded by the feeling that those glass-blue eyes of his humanoid form are drilling into you. He’s waiting for you to hit the hook. “But I’m working on your logic.”

“Oh, yeeaah,” he drawls, his hips shifting, and you feel as if he would bite his lips in anticipation now, if he could. 

“Oh, yeeaah,” you echo him, “the logic of a fucking crazy asshole.” He feels like a huge grin, hands on his muscular, bunched, and flexing thighs. That detail is not lost on you. “You’re hunting in town because you’re pissed off. You reached a limit, and you got tired of sitting on your fucking reaction.”

You swear to god he moans a little. Just softly. It could be a breath, but you know him too well to dismiss it out of hand. 

“That’s good, Schatzi. I like that. I like that you figured that out,” he says, definitely panting in rhythm now, his fogging breath giving away the rhythm secondary. “People are looking at you too much. I don’t fucking like it when they look at you too much.”

That’s a sudden thought that had not occurred to you, and you lash yourself silently because it hadn’t. König has always been possessive of you. Jealous. Protective. And he held grudges in ways that could spark blood feuds and successive generations of death.

Like a curse.

It’s a testament to how fucking cracked and perfectly matched the two of you are that you start laughing, stroking his orbital bones in big, pleased pats, kissing the bridge of his nose. 

“Schatzi, please,” he groans, pressing into you insistently. “Promise you won’t tell. Promise me.”

“Why the fuck would I tell?” you laugh, losing track of your faculties, your very sense. What does it matter? What does it all even mean? You’ve found a man that loves you so deeply and truly and twistedly that he slaughters those who desire or deign you. You’ve found, and fallen in love with a man that would sell his face to save as much of yours as he could. “Who the fuck would I tell?”

The slope of his shoulders relaxes, and he moves closer to you, once again shielding you with the massive bulk of his body, warming you in the cold air. Tucked under his chin, you can study the soft suede-like material of his body, how the bark covering his arms gives way to a ruff of dense, double-layered fur around his shoulders and his long, muscular neck. 

The rest of the muscle on him is horrendously hard, flexed like steel cabling under a layer of fat. There is something about this body that reminds you of the shape of the human one so well–long legs, a nipped waist, and flat hips built to strut and rock, all of it buttressing a broad set of shoulders.

You press your face into the ruff, pushing your fingers into it. Dear god, your hand goes deeper and deeper, and it just never seems to stop. His scent is–it’s almost familiar. He’s in there, somewhere–his musk, the metallic tang of blood seemingly sunken into his skin–but there’s so much more to it. Green, and earthy, almost like soil and moss. 

A sound comes from his body, like a house settling. A deep, broad creak. The trophies on his horns rattle together, clinking like dull wind chimes. “More,” he says simply, leaving you to figure it out. Simple enough.

Your hand drops from the ruff, tracing over his convex chest, down to his stomach. Another shudder, and he pulls those big arms around your entire body, a fuller, more protective hug than you’ve ever felt. 

“Schatzi–would you let me…” he breathes, a heaving sigh. 

Another laugh cracks out of you, hysterical, constricted by your mask. Why not? Why shouldn’t you? You’ve always been a woman that loves monsters. You, yourself, are one. You can’t find a reason to halt your hands, nor your body, nor his desire.

In an odd show of tip-to-tail, you push the mask off your face, and kick off your boots, going for your zipper. “Yeah. Yeah, honey, come on. Show me,” you urge him, pawing at his massive waist as you struggle out of your jeans. 

He groans and this obscene trill escapes his body–a low, rattling moan that travels miles through every cell of your body, his legs spreading wider. You laugh in delight and mania, watching rapt as his cock slides out of a sheath you hadn’t even caught sight of, his monstrous body a foreign land you hadn’t traveled yet, but, fuck, do you want to learn the lands well enough to call them home. 

It’s heavy in your hands, a little slick, and, childishly, you almost giggle (holy shit, that is a sound that has never left your mouth in your living memory, and yet, here you are). It’s hot, hotter than you expected, and a vulnerable shade of pale, like a plant slip. Oh, and it’s elegant, almost spiraling. He huffs as you stroke the length of it, pushing your fingertips into his sheath at the base. 

“I don’t think this is gonna fit,” you warn him, and it somehow feels as if you’re challenging yourself with the statement.

He takes it as a challenge for himself, though, and an aspiration to hold for you, “You are going to take all of it. I’m going to make sure.”

His massive hand comes to the back of your waist, finding your fulcrum without needing to search, pulling you off your knees to hold to beneath him. “You naked yet, or still fucking around?” he asks, breathing heavily, and you shove your jeans off the rest of the way. 

“You’re being a little bitch,” you snipe, a dumb swipe at reclaiming dignity after you realize you’re so wet that it slicks your thighs, having darkened the crotch of your freshly abandoned jeans pathetically. 

He throws another coarse laugh, haa-haa, shifting his massive body long, pulling you into place. 

It’s on you, then, to figure out the logistics. Somehow, it just works, even through layers of physical translation. Under your hands, he reads König, loud and clear. 

There’s a brief, flighty moment of terror as you rub the head of his cock between the lips of your cunt, rolling your hips to stimulate your clit against it. It is just fucking enormous, almost half again the size of his human cock. But then you grit your teeth, tipping your weight back so your shoulders rest against the dirt, bleak and unyielding ruthlessness seizing your mind.

You do not back down, you have never done it once in your life, and tonight is no different. 

His head lifts, bottom jaw dropping, and he bays as you push yourself down on his length. The sound crashes into you, rocking your entire body, and the stretch burns, but you buckle down. What are the people in the houses just at the edge of suburbia thinking? Has the fucking abberation that has been slowly killing its way through their number taken to a different form of punishment? Has someone unlucky fallen to its new tastes?

It cuts your mouth into a horrid grin. If they only knew that you were no victim at all, if only they had an inkling of the fact that you are a victor. That you are the hand holding this nightmare’s collar, and he attacks for the sake of you.

Inch by inch, a slow journey, he fills you, pressing completely against your walls, body shaking with the effort it takes not to thrust fully into you. Oh, what destruction that would result in, what a wreckage that would make of your body, what lengths he would go to not ruin you in such a fashion.

“Fuck–fuck–Liebes,” he mutters, just for you, the moment he is as deep in you as he can go, most of his length still outside of what your body can handle, pleading, “I can’t–I. I have to move. Please, meine Liebes.”

“Go. Go-go-go,” you answer back, almost frantic, too full and occupied, needing motion or you might split apart into atoms. The way he answers is instant, undeniable, desperate, rocking into you as if testing waters, going faster as if he finds them warm and welcoming. 

You lose yourselves to it, and your eyes threaten to roll back into your head, gripping onto the elbow of the arm suspending you, blood rushing to your head in an ache from the way you hang off him, forcing you lightheaded. Sap-like blood from where you’d hacked at him in rage drips down your arm, your waist, clinging to your skin in a way that feels permanent. 

He tenses all around you, panting, clouds of steam fogging the air over your head from his pants. Words escape him, leaving nothing but animalistic grunts, the grinding of his dry, exposed teeth as your desperate pussy sucks him deeper and tighter.

You’d taught him as a human to find your g-spot, to destroy your brain with a steady climb, and he doesn’t even need to search now, every movement pressing every inch of his cock into it, and unrelenting onslaught that makes you shake and nearly drool, being fucked like a sacrifice. 

König raps his other fist above your head and pulls out without warning, shaking his head and breathing roughly. 

You imagine brutally grabbing him by the scruff and biting his ear–what kind of punishment would that even be, no worse than a bug bite to him, more likely than anything else–for the loss of his cock. Mostly just an impulsive fantasy, too barbaric and stupid to actually act upon, but you were thoroughly enjoying yourself, and it feels like hell to be split open against him with nothing inside you.

Breathless–and naked, sweating, and trembling in the woods–you start to sit up on your elbows, cunt throbbing. "What is it? Are you okay?" you ask, your love for him–your fear for him–overwhelming even your damnation-worthy starvation. 

König, massive and so dark he's almost indistinguishable from the night apart from his skull, shakes his head again and puts up a clawed hand. Fine, the gesture says, and you’re realizing he’s beyond words now, but trying his best to communicate. Then he curls it into a loose fist and pantomimes masturbating and finishing.

"Christ!" But you’re laughing, tugging at a tuft of fur on his chest, spun out in your giddiness. It’s still him, you’ve already known, but to see it. To find him through this–this utterly new reality. "They teach you that signal in the forces?"

In his hollow sockets, twisting his body to watch you closely, he looks pleased with himself, ducking forward, bracing on his free hand to one side of your head as he nuzzles into your neck and breathes deeply.

He huffs, rough fingers running over your back, claws trailing the parts of your spine he can reach as he holds you, before he taps the side of your thigh with his other hand. At your eye level, he turns his finger in a slow loop. Roll over, maybe? It's worth a shot.

"Okay. Alright," you sigh, relieved. When you try to roll in his palm, he shakes his head and sets you down, pressing down against your body, pushing his arm under your ribs. With his other hand, he gestures a flat line on the ground. You ask, "On my stomach?"

Two knocks against the ground next to your head. Yes.

You stretch out flat over the frost-crisp grass, too hot to even register the chill against your bare skin, and König lowers with you, sliding the arm under you down to your diaphragm. With his knuckles, he taps your outer-thighs until they're drawn back together, and your breathing hitches when you understand what he intends.

With his legs on the outside of yours, he uses his free hand to run his cock up the length of your seam to tease your pussy, but he takes his sweet time with it. Impatient, you slide onto your knees with near-perfect timing, driving your entrance against his head, snarling with indignation when he bows away. "Fucker!"

He rumbles something almost humanoid, between a laugh and a gruff, trilling ‘rrrr’ you recognize as cousin to a sharp, challenging hum he makes when faced with an idiot comment in his human shape.

"Stop teasing me. I can't stand it," you try instead, turning to give him big eyes over your shoulder because you know that it works well on him.

He bends down and barely-barely nips the top of your ear, a startling move that leaves you perfectly inflamed all over again again. Greedy brat, it says to you, so pleased in the fact he is so desperately wanted. 

The feeling of him inside you is extraordinary. He lubricates in this state, but you hardly need it with the nearly absurd way you’re wet, slick down your thighs. You wonder if your cunt is glimmering under the dim moon and streetlamps, because he'd said that to you once. Heilige sheiße, you have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever fucking seen, could just stare at how wet you get for me forever, he'd laughed during one delirious, marathon session of staying sunken between your legs.

He begins to rock his hips, growling quietly and pleased at the wet sounds of your of cunt squelching around him–another sound he enjoys, a marker of pride, how wet can I make my girl get–settling onto his forearm and pressing a little weight against your back. 

He rests his head across your shoulders, burying his snout in your hair, breathing in hard-bought bursts of restraint.

"Yes, honey," you almost seethe, loosening your body, giving up a little of your own iron will to become just a little lost in the feeling of him. You relax your walls in a bid to take more of him, breathing tight, voice pitching up into a plea, "Yes, baby, that's perfect. That's so perfect, keep going. Just like that."

He rocks a little faster, thrusts a little deeper, breathes a little harder. The hand around your waist shifts up to your breast, but isn't dexterous enough to do more than give it an encompassing squeeze. 

With your thighs pressed together, you feel as if your body can't stretch properly to take as much of him as you want (and you want all of him, every burning hot inch, fucking him so well that he cannot disappear into one of his miseries where he will not let you follow, because they all live in his head). 

He ratchets back his speed, tries a new motion with his hips. He rolls instead of thrusting, a more fluid movement, brushing your insides in new ways that leave your swollen clit screaming for attention and your eyes watering. You breathe in ragged pants, fingers digging into the turf over your head, trying not to rip it with the force of your grip by the fistful.

You might cum. You might cum. You want to cum, and you might, and he's so much deeper now, panting hot as fire against your shoulders. You can feel the muscles in his abdomen clench and dance, his horns cutting the air in swipes of agitation above you, and he is so much this way. König: bigger, sometimes bloodier, but always so, so amplified.

"Honey, honey, honey," you whine in a chant under your breath, trying to ground yourself, trying to encourage him. You squeeze your thighs together for the extra stimulation, but you know you’re going to orgasm from him alone, no extra assistance needed. You’re just greedy, you just want it all, but you want him the worst.

When he pulls out this time, you snarl loud and gnash your teeth, digging your dirt-packed nails into his unyielding skin. You were full to the brim and on the wire-edge of climax, and he is so suddenly fucking gone it's almost as abrupt as violence. 

"KÖNIG!" you shout, his callsign cutting from between your teeth like the desire to slit a throat, shattering the quiet around you both, reeling to find him with your burning eyes. 

He collapses onto his side, cock jumping and leaking, and he whines deep in his throat, pulling at you with the flat of his hand. Your thigh, then his hip, your chest, then his–more hand signals, a story-told like a man with a sucking chest wound needing saving. He snakes his arm under you again, whining growing deeper, and you understand.

You roll, throwing your thigh over his hip, tucking tight against his chest. You give yourself one second of feeling cool air against your overheated pussy before you take him in hand and direct him home, and his deep, slick slide into you knocks the air out of your lungs like a punch to the solar plexus. 

You’re only seconds away, and he can't be much farther, driving his head under yours to give you something to rest on that isn't the ground.

You don't utilize his offering, craning your neck as if you'll somehow get a glimpse of your connection from this angle–flat against him from belly to breast, resting your cheek and forehead against his heaving chest. His whine turns into a series of small, strangled howls and gasps as your voice crawls from whimpering to keening.

You’ve known you were going to cum, but you’re still somehow surprised with yourself at how quickly it's raced up, and how overwhelming it feels like it's going to be. You feel like you’re going insane.

His other arm wraps your ribs, too, squeezing you to him like you’re the only thing in the world worth keeping close, and damn him for it. You don't know why, but damn him.

"Cum, baby, cum," you instruct, gasping when you aren't clenching your teeth. You curl close to him, as close as your body will allow, spreading your legs as wide as you can. You drive back down into his thrusts, giving as much of yourself as you can, taking as much of him as you’re able. 

You want it all–everything–every little bit of blood and bone that's built him into a home he offers only to you. "Cum in me. I'm ready, I want you to cum," you demand, finding it truer than true, finding yourself right on the razor-edge.

The command is all it takes. Three hard thrusts, and he's buried in you to the base, punching the wind out of your lungs, and filling you to the point of what feels like impossibility with his spend. It forces you to finish as well, lighting you up like a lightning storm, swallowing him deeper as you cum and cum like you'll never be able to stop, soaking the both of you. 

You gasp a raw-throated howl, tears pricking the corners of your eyes, and you praise him as his cock kicks and kicks, emptying everything he's got to give into you.

A pressure builds inside you, beginning nearly unpleasant, until something just gives and his knot anchoring him to you feels right. 

It feels special and dazzlingly intimate, and you’re boggled, again, with the knowledge you’re the only person in the world that he's ever shown himself to this way. It’s just a thing you know in your marrow, an immutable truth, like the sun setting in the west, or the cruelty of witches without their wants.

You wind down, sweating and panting and filthy in each other's arms, and you rock against him,  holding him inside, clenching around him what little you can. You feel so wonderfully safe, so immaculately powerful, so stupidly, crazily, fantastically in love.

When your combined breathing evens, and the knot between you retreats, you groan when König shifts back into his human form, but only for the resituating you both have to endure. 

The body against yours is familiar again, and you’re dreadfully sleepy, though you want to clean yourself and eat. You crave something raw, something bloody. You hunger the way an animal hungers after a hard fuck. His spend drips out of you now that his cock's returned to normal, and it forms a trail of cooling wet down the crease where your thigh meets your ass.

You feel lovely.

König laughs, rough and spent, tucking hair out of your face and kissing your closed eyelids. "Holy fucking shit, Schatzi," he marvels, looking at you like you are the only god that has ever mattered. 

Your smile cuts sharp, and your fingers find his pulse point, tracing it thoughtfully. “You hungry? I bet you're fucking starved,” is all you say in return, eyes trailing the way his hand finds the charm bracelet newly returned to your wrist, touching it like a token.

It’s late and dark when you both manage to stumble your way back to your rental. He stays close, needy and soft, his hand on your hip, tugging you into his body when he can, careful of not knocking into the big, silver knife you’d placed back in the scabbard on your belt. 

The hood is back on his head, rolled up to his nose, and his split mouth kisses against your neck and behind your ear, his eyes closed like he endures a waking dream. You, in your own filthied mask again, allow it, craning your neck to give him more room, anchoring him with an arm around his waist in return.

It is late now, and the neighborhood is silent. Again, you wonder what the quiet lives inside must be thinking–whether they think the crimes have increased into a new field of brutality, if they are fearing and wondering what body parts they will find at the treeline come dawn. 

You know they will not leave the safety of their homes to investigate. They would be stupid to do something like that.

“That shower is going to feel so goddamned good,” you mutter, unlocking your door, and he nods against your skin.

“Oh, yeeaah,” he says, and the familiarity of the phrase makes you hum a laugh, shutting your eyes as you push through the threshold. "Get that blood off your skin before it stains. Your poor face, your poor arm. Poor Schatzi."

He splits off from you with a facsimile of a kiss–your masks pressing together at the mouth–and he pinches your ass before he takes off to the kitchen, his stomach growling, not even bothering to take off his boots.

You, however, kick off your shoes, and pull together clean clothes, heading toward the bathroom in the hall, the one with the big shower, in case he decides to join you.

Sleepy and content, you listen to his boots move heavily over the kitchen tile, the sound of the fridge door hissing snickt as he pulls it open, and shoves things around in his search for food. You nearly sway up to the closed door–why is it closed, you barely manage to wonder–your eyelids lead-weighted.

It takes only one thing to make them snap open wide, your back going ramrod straight. A dark smear, curling around the knob, around the edge of the door where it seams to the jamb.

Cold grips your lungs, sending your heart galloping painfully in the cage of your ribs, wondering if it really is copper you smell, or if it is a trick of your mind. The hall is too dark to tell if the swipe on the white door is red or black–if it is blood, if it is König’s or yours. 

There is a presence at your back, and enormous hands on the door on either side of your head, so fast you cannot tell if you were even able to blink before you saw his wide, scarred, and knuckle-broken limbs spreading wide across the wood.

Your hand finds the grip of the knife, looking at the brutal gouges you had hacked into his forearm earlier in the night, and you are thinking faster and harder than you ever have in your life, realizing in a terrible microsecond that you will have to make a decision–that you will have to choose what reality you are willing to live with, or that you are simply mistaken. 

Either way, you are moments from learning.

“Something wrong, Schatzi?” your boyfriend’s familiar voice asks, low and raspy, hot against the nape of your neck.

The laugh in his tone is cruel, and you can’t tell whether it belongs to König, or something pretending to be him.

tag-list: @alittleposhtoad @bitchoftoji @dotcie @kastlequill @miyabilicious @moths569 @parttimeprophet @pssytrux <3

#hauntedhoedown #konig #könig #call of duty #cod mw2 #mw2 #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #konig x reader #konig smut #my work

[heartsforvin]

TATTOOS

pairing; vinnie hacker x fem!gf!reader

warnings; mention of anxiety, a bunch of fluff <3

summary; it’s a lazy day for you & vin, laying in bed watching movies together, you get lost in a daze as you trace his tattoos

lazy days for you and vinnie were rare. either he had an event to go to, or you had a modeling gig lined up. so when you both had a free day, you took that to your advantage.

you excitedly ran down the stairs of vinnie’s shared home with his roommates, meeting one of the guys once you reached the kitchen.

“hey, y/n!” jack exclaimed with a smile, happy to see you around the house again.

you reciprocated the gesture, the corner of your lips tugging up into a smile. “hi, jack.”

you quickly pass the blonde, grabbing some sodas and a bag of popcorn, putting the bag into the microwave.

sitting up on the counter as you waited for the popcorn to finish, you swung your legs back and forth.

“what are your plans for the day?” you heard jack speak up, turning your attention to him.

you smile at the thought. “vin and i are just gonna stay in today and watch some movies!” you exclaim.

jack smiled, picking up his things, signaling he was going to leave the room. “awe that’s fun! i gotta go, but i’ll see ya later?” he questioned, making you nod.

“see you later!” you told, hopping off the counter and walking to the microwave.

as you opened it up, you felt a strong pair of arms wrap around your waist, hugging you from behind. you looked down and saw the tattooed hands that rested on your stomach.

vinnie’s face was in your neck, planting small kisses against it, making you giggle. “you couldn’t wait five minutes?” you questioned.

vinnie mumbled into your skin. “couldn’t wait another five seconds” he replied, unwrapping himself from you.

you smiled, finishing up making the popcorn, pouring it into a bowl and soaking it with butter.

“here, grab this for me, will you?” you asked your boyfriend, he happily grabbed the bowl of popcorn.

you grabbed two sodas and the two of you made it back upstairs into vinnie’s room. once the door was shut the two of you got situated on his bed.

the popcorn bowl sat in between the two of you, while you snuggled into your boyfriend.

your head was laid on vinnie’s chest, his arms wrapped around you and resting on your waist, gripping slightly.

“what movie did you pick?” you looked up to see the blonde above you smiling.

“vin, no!” you exclaimed, sitting up to swat at his chest. “you promised me you wouldn’t pick a scary one.”

he smirked, he didn’t actually pick a horror film, he just loved to tease you and see what you’d do.

vinnie rubbed your shoulder. “i didn’t pick a scary one, baby.” he replied, smiling.

you smiled, switching the way you laid on your boyfriend. you decided to lay against him with your back on his chest, his arms resting on your thighs.

✧∘* ೃ ⋆｡˚.

about thirty minutes into the movie (which was an action film), you got distracted. vinnie was very intently focused on the movie, but you were focused on something else.

you held one of vinnie’s hands in yours, the back of his hand facing you as you traced the bird feathers all the way to the snake on his index finger.

his tattoos were one of your favorite features of him, it was the first thing you noticed when you first met him.

you loved all his tattoos so much.

your favorite however, was a tie between the spider tattoo on his sternum, or snake tattoo that wrapped around his neck.

too caught up in the movie, the boy above you still didn’t notice what you were doing. that was until you started tracing a little higher up on his left arm.

“what’re you doin’, baby?” the softness of his voice almost unclear.

your cheeks heated at the realization that he caught you, it wasn’t something embarrassing, you often traced the inked skin to relive your anxiety at times.

“got distracted.” is all you said. vinnie smiled down at you.

he watched as you continued to trace his inked skin in deep thought, smiling as you did so.

“have you watched any of the movie?” he asked you, a blush creeping up on your cheeks.

he got his answer just by that, smirking and kissing your head.

after a moment of silence you felt movement on the bed, looking over to the side, you saw hera making her way towards you two.

“hera, my baby!” you exclaimed, earning a pout from the blonde haired boy beside you.

you smiled at him before kissing his cheek. "you're my baby too." you told him, earning a smile.

the three of you laid back down, you cuddled back into vinnie while hera laid in between you both. continuing to trace the boy's tattoos, you sighed contentedly, looking up at vinnie.

"which is your favorite?" he asked, already knowing your answer, he just loved hearing your voice.

you sat up a bit to reach the tattoo around his neck, gliding your fingers around it.

"this for sure," you said, almost in a whisper. "although, your spider one is up there too."

vinnie smiled, lifting up your chin to meet his gaze. he smiled at you before letting the distance between you close in a kiss.

you both smiled once you pulled apart, vinnie stroked your cheek with his thumb which made you blush.

"wanna get matching tattoos one day?" the boy asked, making you look at him with pure shock.

"are you sure?" you asked, making sure he was one hundred percent certain.

you had in fact thought about the idea, but wasn't sure you should do it just in case you guys didn't last.

there was always that possibility to look out for.

vinnie smiled widely and nodded his head. "i have never been so sure about something in my life," he told. "besides me wanting you to be my future wife."

that sentence mad your stomach fill with butterflies, you smiled up at him, making him smile back.

you nodded your head, letting him know that you in fact would like to get a matching tattoo with him one day.

falling back onto his chest, you wrapped your arms around his waist, while his rested along your back.

hera found a more comfortable spot in between you two as well. you ran your fingers along her fur, loving the moment you were in.

"oh and to be clear," you started after moments of silence. you tried your best to look at vinnie. "i would love to be your wife."

he kissed your head, rubbing your back with a smile on his face. he knew for sure, no matter how long it takes, he was going to make you his wife.

#vhackerr #vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker imagines #vinnie hacker smut #vinniehackerfanfic #vinniehacker #vincent hacker

[shieldedreams]

i’ll always find (see) you (n.s)

summary ⇾ after a training gone sour, lo’ak knows who to find in order to keep his brother in check. details ⇾ 2,299 words / neteyam sully x na’vi!reader / 🌸 comfort fluff / established relationship / gn!reader  notes ⇾ i know i’ve been m.i.a lately but... i’ve been inspired to write for avatar so... here it is! ✨

the flora and fauna that surrounds you is what makes you think this–the mixes of pink, blue and green–must be heaven on earth. the fireflies that float about, sounds of kiri’s fascination as she occasionally lures one or two butterflies over your wandering eyes; the two of you laying side by side on the grass, staring ahead at the cocooning trees.

until a branch snapping cues the two of you to be on alert. you sit up, leaning partially to shield kiri as your hands fetch the dagger slotted by your ankle; kiri baring her fangs with a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it out of instinct.

the both of you visibly relax when–”couldn’t you just announce your presence like any normal being?” you scoff a laugh, putting your dagger away as kiri sighs, shaking her head, hand slipping from your shoulder, “lo’ak, where’s neteyam?”

“i’m here to ask y/n that.”

based on how lo’ak’s eyes lower to the ground, hands behind his back, it makes your heart clench at the implication. he’s gone... again. you glance to kiri, who nods, a silent and understanding of go, it’s okay. i’ll see you later. rising to your feet, you align your gazes with lo’ak, the younger boy offering you a small smile.

“you okay?” 

he chuckles, nodding with gratitude; familiar to your warmth and care, “i’m not the one you should be checking up on,” he shakes his head, “not this time, at least.”

“again?” you warm up your ankles and shake your wrists, prepping your body for the way you’d need to climb because–”we can see everything from up here...” your voice comes out in a mere whisper, yet only one can hear you. neteyam circles his arm around your waist, leaning in close as he presses his forehead to the side of your face, “and yet, all i see is you.”–where you’re about to go is a place only you and neteyam know.

somewhere only we know–how foolish. how childish. how... safe and happy you two were at a location that provided you privacy to be whoever you wanted to be. there, you are only known as yourself and neteyam was only known to be neteyam. no labels. no warrior. nothing. just you and him. him and you. together.

“training didn’t go well today, that’s all i can say,” lo’ak mumbles under his breath. before he can get another coherent sentence out, he’s left breathless when you take off past the trees and soon he notices you’re climbing and swinging on the branches.

“be back by dinner!” kiri calls out, well-aware it would reach you despite it looking otherwise.

//

neteyam feels the wind brushing against his skin; calm, tranquil, the coos of the birds soaring above and the low murmurs of leaves clashing below. normally, his senses would be heightened at the sound of branches creaking but this... here–his safe place–is no ordinary place.

it’s one of the highest points that grants him the view of his home; his people. sometimes... once in a while, that gets suffocating. being the eldest, being the one who’s supposed to fit in the role-model mould... it got suffocating, overwhelming.

one day, you brought him here. past the groans and moaning of how much higher?! he’s grateful this became the place he frequented when things got hard to process; when it got hard to breathe. you were here with him, hand-in-hand, his head on your shoulder, arms hugging your waist; his safe place, his person.

here, he was not neteyam te suli tsyeyk’itan; he was just neteyam... and yours.

“you know,” your voice echoes into his ears, then his eyes are blessed with the sight of you climbing up the last branch to reach the one he’s sitting on, “if i knew this would be the place we’d come often, i would’ve chosen somewhere easier to access...”

“you’re such a baby,” he scoffs a laugh, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand, a quiet sniff entering your ears–he’s not crying.

“you’re the one to talk,” you quip back, just as you take your seat next to him. that gets him to quiet down and you’re half-regretting what you’ve said. “sorry... too soon?” you try to make up for it but he only shakes his head, moving to lean against you with a soft not soon enough...

his body grows towards you automatically. like you’re the source of light and he’s the receiver. taking in as much as he possibly can; for when things get heavy, for when things get dark. all he has to think about is his family and what’s at stake; you, you, you–all of you. his eyes flutter shut and he puts his arms around you, scooting you closer until one of your legs nearly go over his due to how close he’s pulling you.

you sigh and allow him to bury himself in your embrace. his face soon meeting your neck, arms tightening around your frame, tail lightly caressing your lower back out of habit. it reminds him that this is what home feels like; what home was meant to be. past the fighting and defending one’s honour, he was meant to be your lover.

you place a hand on his thigh, now noticing the marks of scratches that are on his skin. it doesn’t make him flinch when your fingers brush over it, but what makes him shudder is the way you turn your body so you can cocoon him in. one arm slithering around his shoulders, pulling him in and he inhales deeply against your pulse; your scent.

“you wanna talk about it?” you pry gently, lips to his temple. 

initially, he shakes his head.

but a couple of gentle strokes to the back of his head, he relents. details of how strict his father was, the pressure to please and succeed, the role of the oldest sibling weighs heavy on his shoulders and... well... he may or may not have raised his voice back in retaliation for the first time in months. it was normal, even if he thinks otherwise. for every insecurity or dark thought he has, you’ve always combatted with the opposite he longs to be true (it is, he just stubbornly refuses to admit now).

“what if i’ll never live up to him?” good, you’re not supposed to be a copy of your father. you’re meant to be your own person.

“what if i can’t protect them?” as much as you feel responsible to protect everyone else, you should protect yourself first. that’s what your parents would want before you help others.

“what if i’m a failure?” now you’re just talking a load of nonsense.

then, it always, always end with: “thank you,” he lifts his head up, eyes closed as he leans his forehead against yours. his eyes gently open, the moment seemingly soft, serene, pure but you–”for nearly breaking a muscle climbing up to find you? i think i should start claiming a price to this.”

“you dense baboon,” he hisses. the tone of his voice only makes you laugh. giddily, knowing very well by the sound of his voice, it seems like you’ve breathed life back into his lungs.

“i mean, if you call me a dense baboon, what about you? you’re the one who–and i quote–will never love another–dense baboon.”

he gives up with a sigh, eyes fluttering back shut that it makes you give in. after all, he did have a bad day. might as well let him win.

“ah, okay, okay,” you coo, easing the hand that was once on his thigh, then crawling up on his neck, now reaching his cheek where you cup it tenderly. it beckons him to open his eyes, briefly, before it instinctively closes when he feels your breath over his lips; then, the fleeting moment of your kiss that makes his body tense and relax at the same time.

“just one?” he murmurs, a hand of his now meeting the nape of your neck to keep you there as he leans against you.

“how bad of a day did you have?”

“might need a few more to forget about it,”

“you do know this ends with me dragging you back to your father, right?”

“...then give me all the kisses now.”

//

maybe it was thirty minutes, maybe an hour, but all neteyam knows is that he’s calm and at ease as he walks along the path back home with you; his hand in yours, step by step mimicking one another. neteyam succumbed to your wishes of heading back, an hour or two before dinner would take place.

neteyam’s lost in the moment, merely following your hand dragging him like a compass.

it’s not until he nearly loses his footing by staring at you instead of where he’s walking. he tightens his hold on your hand, a soft gasp leaving his lips as you tug him up. it happens so fast; so sudden. his other hand now meets your waist for stability as you come face to face with him–so close he can count the lashes lining your eyes, the smile that twirls up on your lips.

“if you wanted another kiss, all you had to do was ask,”

he scoffs with the roll of his eyes but his hands, his body betrays him. it always does. always weak when it comes to you.

you let go of his hand to circle them behind his neck as he lures you towards him. one hand securing you by the hip, the other reaching up to pillow against your cheek as he lightly noses along yours.

“thank you,” he says, in a mere whisper.

“you said that earlier,” you try to joke, only to get ignored when he gazes into your eyes, making whatever thought you had in your mind fade away; replaced with just the one looking back at you. you lean into his touch as his thumb brushes the under of your eye and as cheesy as it sounds, you feel your heart swelling at such tender moment you two were sharing.

“for seeing me,” his voice blends with the gust of wind that envelopes the pair of you. his words, so seemingly simple but it held much more than that. for coming to me whenever you know something is wrong. for loving me; thank you for loving me.

“i’ll always see you,” i’ll always find you; love you.

he cracks a smile, “even when i’m way up too high in the trees?”

“especially then.”

//

((“i’m sorry, sir,” neteyam has his head lowered, “for how i acted, for the way i behaved. i will do better.”

he swallows, hands locked behind his back as he waits for a response. half-anticipating for a reprimanding, half-afraid of what’s to come. he peeks up at the lack of response, now noticing the soft look in his father’s eyes.

“good,” is all jake says, then motioning him away with the movement of his chin pointing to the side, “dismissed.”

neteyam swallows, as you gape; having stood by his side since the second you’ve dragged him back. neteyam glances to you, then back to his father who remains unmoving.

“d-dad–”

“dismissed,” jake repeats himself, now looking to you with a small nod. you’re able to give a smile, understanding jake’s intentions. he may look stern and he certainly in hell is strict, but he loves his family and it shows. you can see it in the way jake strives to protect those he loves and that comes with a price of being too harsh sometimes. it’s the mutual understanding you have that got jake to warm up just a bit to you (compared to how neytiri awed over the way she noticed her son adoring you).

it was your cue to bow in respect before you wrap your fingers on one of the wrists behind neteyam’s back to tug him away. he doesn’t object, already stumbling to follow you but just as he glances over his shoulder, he could’ve sworn he saw his father crack a smile before he turned his back.

//

”if i knew getting him to date someone would get him to return quicker, i’d thrown him off the edge earlier,” jake comments, snorting at his own remark as he tidies up the equipment. he lets out a soft augh when he feels a nudge to his head, knowing very well of who it might–”you promised you’d go easier on him.”

“i am!” he sighs, looking up to neytiri who has her hands on her hips, raising a brow, “i’ll... have a chat with him, down by the river later.”

she somehow raises her brow higher and he extends his arm out, pointing right at–”you sure we won’t fall?” neteyam squints his eyes at you, watching as you effortlessly hook your knees over the branch, dangling your body upside down with a grin, “do not tell me that the great warrior neteyam, son of jake sully is afraid?”

neteyam scoffs a laugh and threatens to bite your ankle when he grips onto it, only to yelp when you nudge him forward and he has to rely on his reflexes to follow your lead. when he’s securely hanging next to you, he’s able to smile widely at you, finding your hand on the branch between your bodies. it makes you laugh this time, tail lining up the side of his body as he swirls his along your legs. it was playful, childish... it was happiness.

neytiri’s eyes soften at the sight, a smile crawling to her face. she directs her gaze back to jake, who has this shit-eating-grin on his face.

“get to him before dark. i want a nice, peaceful dinner as a family tonight.”

“roger that.”))

#neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam sully #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam scenarios #neteyam fanfics #avatar #avatar scenarios #avatar the way of water #i got a bunch of drafts..... #mostly shang chi and eggsy unwin #which i'll probbaly brush up to post them up #not sure when though #but avatar though....... #:")

[timetoletmyimaginationfly]

Officially Mine

Nanami Kento x Reader

Slight suggestiveness in the end. Implied Mafia + CEO Nanami. Implied violence on Nanami’s end.

I want to make a series out of this…

(Song Inspiration: Infinity by Jaymes Young)

He didn’t know why but he let the attraction take over him. An ordinary woman that you are, he finds extraordinary. A woman who appears so innocent and pure while he is a man with blood on his hands. A man that plays dirty in his business world.

It has been a year since meeting you. The two of you met on Gojo’s birthday. And because you were close to Shoko, Gojo encouraged Shoko to bring you. It was one of the best days of his life.

“Kento-kun!” you yelled to get Nanami’s attention. Nanami’s eyes turned to you. You giggled and brought a brown bag to his desk. “Your lunch like you asked. You’re lucky I didn’t have a photoshoot today.”

You watched a small and playful smile appear on his face. You always saw his stoic side. He tends to be a man of little words but the more you got to know him, his actions says a lot.

“You would’ve done it for me either way, love bug,” he said. “Thank you.” You blushed.

“Y-Yeah, I would’ve,” you admitted shyly. He watched you play with your fingers. An indication of your shy side appearing or your nerves were slowly taking over. But you were blushing, so he knew you were getting shy. “I’m going to Korea for about a week.”

“Korea?” he asked. You nodded happily.

“I never told you about him!” He glared at the mention of him. “We went to college together. He models and acts and he let me take his photos. Now he’s famous everywhere in Asia! He asked me personally to be his photographer! I can’t let that opportunity slide.” His eyes softened. You were excited and happy. That was all he cared about.

“No, you can’t,” he said softly. “I have some business to deal with over there soon. We can go together in my private jet. When do you leave?”

“Next week.”

“Perfect.” You could hear some possessiveness in his voice. His soft yet venomous tone was subtle. You bit your lower lip. Should you be scared? Yes. But were you? No. “I’ll pick you up, love bug.” You lightly giggled. Another sign of nerves and shyness.

“What business do you have entailed over there?”

“I have a client that I need to meet with personally.” He sounded sincere but it was almost sinister. Nonetheless, you smiled brightly.

“Perfect! Kill two birds with one stone, right?” Nanami nodded. “I’ll be heading out. I need to get my equipment together.”

“Get home safe, love bug,” he said. Pink. You were blushing again. You waved one last time before sending yourself out. Nanami took his phone out and called Gojo.

“Call Jung + Kim Security,” he said. “Tell Mr. Jung to expect me.”

“How bad did they fuck you over?”

“He touched my girl a week ago at the gala.”

“Oh Nanami. Head over heels for a girl that isn’t even officially yours,” Gojo said with a chuckle. “You should tell her how you feel.”

“We are aware of our feelings with each other.”

“Yeah but you two are still dancing around each other. What’s holding you back?” Nanami held on to his phone tighter. He stayed silent. He already knew. You were too good for him. “I know you, Nanamin. You deserve someone like her.”

You were surprised when Nanami decided to come with you to the photoshoot.

“It takes hours,” you said.

“That’s fine,” he would answer.

You looked out the window in the car and smiled. Nanami took a glance at you. He couldn’t help but smile with you. His hand moved over to yours that rested on your lap. You didn’t resist him, so he intertwined his fingers to yours. Your heart raced, fluttering feelings overtaking your body.

Nanami remained by the table that was filled with snacks and refreshments. He watched you fixed the model’s outfit. He watched the model talk to you and watched you laugh. Nanami can feel jealousy envelope all over his body. His glare becoming so intense that the model looked up briefly at Nanami with fear.

“Let’s take a quick break,” you said. You could feel Nanami’s glare from behind. “Be back in ten.” You turned around and walked over to Nanami. You stood in front of him with crossed arms and an angry pout.

“Yes, love bug?” he asked so softly and innocently that you blushed, almost forgetting why you walked over to him.

“Quit scaring him,” you said. “I can feel your stare. You’re getting annoyed. Kento-kun, do you enjoy my attention?” Nanami smirked and stood up. He towered over you and he closed the gap and leaned in closer to your face.

“Of course I do,” he answered. “I just don’t want him flirting with you.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” you asked. Nanami smiled, patiently waiting for you to continue. You leaned up closer to his ear. He thought you were too adorable. “I enjoy your attention, too.” You winked and turned around to get back on set, where your model friend was patiently waiting. Nanami watched, your “secret” replaying in his mind.

I enjoy your attention, too.

Sets were changing. Outfits were changing. You made sure everything was perfect. During breaks, you would stay with Nanami. He took a step out to buy lunch for the crew. And another time to buy coffee.

“Your boyfriend is a good man,” your friend said. You blushed, a little too stunned to say anything back. “We should do a double date one day. My manager said I have to go to a meeting tomorrow. We can do more of the shoot the day after.”

“O-Okay! Just call me,” you said.

Nanami placed his hand on the small of your back and lead you back to the car.

“You love photography,” he said.

“I do,” you replied. “Office jobs aren’t fun. I love my side gig.”

“You should make it a full-time thing.”

“I’m trying. That’s why this photoshoot needs to be perfect. The day after tomorrow will be with the cast on the drama he’s also in. It needs to be perfect.”

“I have full confidence that you’ll succeed, love bug.” Nanami looked at the time in the car. “Do you want to go back to the hotel or explore around Seoul? I have to meet with my client.”

“Drop me off here,” you said. “And then I’ll take a cab back to the hotel. That is, if you’re still gone. Maybe we can get dinner together. I-If you want.”

“I would love that, love bug. I’ll definitely be there.”

A few hours passed. You were worried when you saw him leave his car. His body was very tense. His frown was deep. And the way he kept fixing his tie was uncharacteristic of him. Almost as if he was nervous.

“Kento-kun,” you called. You watched his shoulders slightly relaxed the moment you spoke. You couldn’t help but smile and walked up to him. Nanami chuckled when he saw the bags in your hands.

“You went all out, huh?” he questioned softly when he took the bags from your hands.

“Just a little,” you answered. “I’ve been wanting to use their facial products and I want some make up. Some of their clothes were on sale so I might as well take up on that opportunity, right?” Nanami chuckled and placed the bags in the back seat of his car.

“Of course, love bug,” he said and held your hand. “I reserved a place for us.”

“So I have to wear something nice? I’m pretty casual right now.” The last time he reserved a restaurant for the two of you, you felt very out of place, even if it was just the two of you around. Nanami just smiled.

“I knew you were going to question that,” he said and pulled a bag of out the car. “Change into this. Under my seat is a new pair of heels.”

“Wait! You’re not coming in here while I change!” you exclaimed when you watched Nanami enter the driver seat. Nanami smirked.

“I won’t look,” he said. You pouted at him and all he could do was laugh. “I’m kidding, love. Let me know when you’re done.”

“Thank you.”

Something about you in a silky, sapphire colored gown that hugged the curves of your body just made Nanami’s mind spiral. He kept you close possessively as you two walked to your destination.

“You are a possessive man, Kento-kun,” you said. Nanami smiled at the comment.

“I don’t like anyone touching anything and anyone that’s mine,” he answered casually. You blushed and rested your head on his chest. He pulled you in close to him. “I want to tell you something important tonight.”

“O-Okay,” you said. “Is it bad?”

“It depends how you perceive it, love bug,” he said.

Your eyes widened when you two reached the rooftop. There was one table with two long candles lit up and a flower in between the candles. Nanami pulled your chair out for you to sit and you softly thanked him. Once Nanami sat down, two waiters arrived, pouring the both of you glasses of wine and bringing food on to the table.

“I made sure to serve your favorite,” Nanami said. “Tomorrow we’ll explore around Seoul and you can try more of their food since you have the day off.” You brightened. It was your first time in the country and you were excited to do some sight-seeing.

“So what was it you wanted to tell me?” you asked curiously as you took a sip of the wine.

“You’re impatient, my love,” he said. He loosened his tie ever so slightly and fixed the cuffs of his suit.

“You’re nervous,” you said. Your heart raced and your stomach fluttered when he gave you a shy smile. An uncharacteristic one from him. “Kento-kun, are you doubting our feelings for each other?” Another uncharacteristic reaction. His eyes widened.

“Maybe I am,” he answered quietly.

“What’s there to doubt?”

“That you’re perfect and I’m not,” he said, his eyes burning through you. His eyes were intense. You were mesmerized.

“You speak low of yourself. Very unlike you.”

“All because of you, love,” he replied. “You’re the only one that makes me like this.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Yes and no. Everyday I have you in my mind that it distracts me. And I hate distractions. But I love your distraction. You’re a woman so beautiful and sweet that I find it hard to believe that you like a man like me.”

“What’s so bad about you?”

“All the bad things I do.” All you can do is smile slyly as you took another sip of your wine.

“I like to pretend that I don’t know what you do behind closed doors,” you said. “You’re ruthless and an ass to others. Satoru has a big mouth. I tried not to get too involved with you earlier, but I can’t get away.”

“Gojo? Seriously?” You couldn’t help but giggle at his annoyed expression. You reached out and held his hand.

“Kento-kun, you’re the only one who I feel safe around even though I know that you’re a dangerous man,” you said. “And everyday, I think I end up falling more for you that I can’t ignore my feelings for you.”

“How could you love someone like me? I don’t deserve someone so perfect like you.”

“Because I grew up with no love and protection from anyone,” you answered. “And you’re the only one that gets me. You do anything to protect anyone you love. I watch you protect Satoru, Suguru, Yu, and Shoko. And I saw you give that man a killer stare at the gala after he touched me two weeks ago.”

“I hope you know he has no way to touch you ever again,” he said angrily. He was amused. You didn’t flinch or look at him differently. All you did was smile at him admirably and affectionately.

“I don’t wanna know,” you said softly. “But I can’t turn away. I think I’m too involved.”

“You are, love. I love you too fucking much.”

“I love you, too.”

“You can walk away if you want. It’s not too late.”

You stood up and walked over to him. Nanami turned to face you and you slowly sat on his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. His one arm enveloped you around your waist while his other hand rested on the back of your head. You straddled on his lap and cupped his face. His tongue versus yours. Reluctantly, you pulled away and rested your forehead on his.

“What does that say to you?” Nanami smiled and kissed you again.

“That we should skip dinner and go back to our hotel to have dessert.” You laughed. But you suddenly had a serious look on your face.

“I have one rule with our relationship,” you said. Nanami nodded, willing to agree to anything you need him to do. “I have male friends. Do not, and I mean do not do anything to them. That’s my dealbreaker.”

“They better not take you away from me.”

“Nanami Kento!” Nanami pressed his lips on yours. “Nanami Kento, you’re a possessive man.”

“Remember, no one takes anything and anyone that’s mine. And you’re officially mine.”

#nanami x reader #nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader #nanami jjk #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami fanfic #nanami #jujutsu kaisen au #jjk au

[firethekitty]

rank every vash

sure i’m due to lose a few followers

1. trimax vash. ohhhh he’s beautiful he’s fantastic what a wonderful guy. i could literally write full-length essays about him. genuinely one of the most well-written and complex characters i’ve ever had the pleasure of getting to know. i’ve written 25,000+ words in trimax vash character studies. what else can i say about him. no seriously what else can i say about him? feel free to give me ideas

2. tristamp vash. he gets a bad rap from 98 fans and it makes me sad bc tristamp vash is much more similar to trimax vash than 98 vash was. people have shit to say about his design, his personality, his animation, his voice… enough already. he’s a great character and i’ll die on that hill.

a lot of fair criticisms of tristamp are due to the fact that studio orange is trying to fit 100+ manga chapters in 24 episodes. and it’s simply not enough time. but this is a widespread issue in the animation industry and orange is genuinely trying their best. almost everyone working on the show clearly fucking adores trigun and wants to do it justice, so i don’t think it’s fair to blame them specifically for the weird pacing issues. i do have qualms about it but "i don't like 3D animation" or "vash is too sad" are not valid criticisms imo lmao

3. 98 vash. well he kinda sucks but that’s what makes him charming! typical 90s shounen protagonist! sure!

he’s fine on his own, but he’s like an entirely different character to me when compared to trimax vash. i can’t blame the writers for modeling him after early/pre-trimax vash, but i wish they waited to see how the manga would play out before making an entire anime. but who knows if trimax would ever finish without the 98 anime, so i guess this is the price i have to pay 😔

4. badlands rumble. i really can’t stand him LOL. i wish i could understand the thought process behind the writers for this movie bc it just doesn’t make sense to me. he's like 98 vash in heat. his only saving grace is his absolutely adorable design and bird-like mannerisms, which are very trimax-y to me. he’s just so goofy and funny-looking, just looking at him makes me smile :)

me: any last words, fucker?

badlands rumble vash:

me: …you may live another day

#ask #anon #trigun

[suddenlybambi]

as long as you stay here [3] ♥ kyle broflovski

pairing : kyle broflovski x reader

college AU - 18+

tags : strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst, alcohol, afab reader, she/her pronouns, eventual smut

words : 2.6k

chapter 3

previous | next | alaysh masterlist

a/n - this will likely be the last daily update for now - i have 3 more chapters written so far but i like to keep on top in case i end up falling ill so i don't leave y'all without a chapter for a whole week! - next update will likely be friday (or thursday if i have a lot of motivation!)

thank you to everyone who has supported this story so far 🥰

Y/N was relieved to be back in the apartment, where it was mostly quiet. Just the sounds of the street outside the window that never closed properly could be heard. 

She grabbed the remote, deciding the TV was the most obvious thing to use to entertain her new guest. While she and Kyle had bonded over their mutual disdain for the club, she didn’t know much else about him.

She flicked the power button a few times, groaning in realisation. “Andddd… The TV is broken again!” She put the remote down on the side and tried to unplug and replug the TV in, but it didn’t help. “Clyde has been here one day, and he’s already done something to it.”

“How old is that thing?” Kyle looked in slight awe at the TV. It was one of the first models of ‘flatscreen’ TVs, but it was still three times the width of any TV for sale in stores in the present day. 

“It was Bebe’s grandma’s. It got 10 whole channels, but we managed to rig a fire tv stick up to it,” Y/N explained, trying the remote one last time. “Unfortunately, I’m afraid that is all we have in the way of guest entertainment. That is unless you fancy taking a look at Bebe’s gossip magazine collection that has taken over the coffee table?” 

“I’ll pass, I think?” Kyle laughed awkwardly, looking down at the selection. “As tempting as it is to find out… Which Kardashian has the most expensive nose?”

“That leaves two options that I can think of. You can crash in the spare bed in what was Wendy’s room until they return from clubbing,” She gestured down the hall to the open door to the room that had once been Wendy’s room. It now only housed a double bed and an empty dresser. “Or you can join me in my room while I watch a nature documentary, and we can do sudokus together?”

“Definitely living up to the party animal part of the party-hating party animal title.” Kyle teased, but she could tell he wasn’t genuinely making fun of her. “I mean, a nature documentary? Sudokus? What a wild night.” 

“We could watch something else if that’s too hardcore for you? Maybe do a word search or spot the difference instead?” 

“I think I can just about handle it. I’ll let you know if it is too much for me.”

“I don’t have a couch in my room. You don’t feel awkward sitting on the bed, do you?”

“What is a bed but just a longer couch?”

“Wow! I didn’t realise I was in the presence of such a magnificent philosopher!” Y/N laughed, leading the way to her room. She was glad that Kyle was open to joking around with her, as it made the fact that they would be spending the following hours together a little less awkward. 

She opened the door to her bedroom, glad she had cleaned up a little the day before since it had been a bit of a mess. There were still textbooks everywhere and about five mugs on the side that she swore she would take to the kitchen to clean, but that was about it. Her bed was even made for once. “Whales or birds?” 

“Birds,” Kyle decided after a second of consideration.

“That is absolutely the correct choice!” Y/N grinned. She jumped onto her bed, lunging over it to grab the remote control. She scooted over to the side so Kyle could sit next to her, which he did, leaving a respectful amount of space in between them. She pulled the multiple sudoku books from her bedside table drawer and laid them out on the bed, grabbing a couple of the pens she had on the side.

“You don’t actually have to do any sudokus if you don’t want to,” She clarified, picking up the one she had last been working on and flipping to the next empty one. “My phone charger is next to you if you need it.”

“Thanks, I’m on 5%,” He leaned over the side of the bed to retrieve the charger and plug his phone in. “Honestly, I’d rather do a sudoku than anything else,” He admitted, picking up one of the books and flipping to the next free page. Y/N turned on the documentary about birds that she had planned to watch, and they sat in peaceful quiet. She knew she had made the right choice leaving with Kyle, and she didn’t for a single second regret suggesting that he came back to hers while the others enjoyed the rest of the night.

The buzzing of her phone in her bra startled Y/N awake. She had to blink her eyes a few times to register her surroundings. Feeling a weight on her shoulder, she turned her head to see that Kyle had fallen asleep as well, resting his head on her.

She didn’t want to wake him, so she tried to move carefully and gently to pull her phone out and check why it buzzed. She was met with a text from Bebe.

bebe 💋 : weere on way howme now b 10 mins 

bebe 💋 : wend and stan r going to stay at oirs in old room

bebe 💋 : so skyle will have to satay or get cab home allone 

Y/N could barely make out the words Bebe was typing but just about managed to translate that Wendy and Stan would be staying in Wendy’s old room, so Kyle would either have to stay over or get a cab home by himself.

She turned her head again to look at the sleeping boy on her shoulder. Would he want to go home? Where would he sleep if he stayed? She would probably let him stay like that on her shoulder all night had the impending interruption from the others coming home not been looming in the distance; he looked so peaceful. 

She checked the time, it was 1am, but she was starving.

y/n 💕 : are we getting food?

bebe 💋 : we caan order in whene home xzxzxxx

Satisfied with that answer, she set her phone down on the bed.

“Kyle?” Y/N carefully nudged her shoulder to try and wake him up in the most gentle way she could so as not to startle him. It worked as he slowly lifted his head and yawned.

“Sorry for falling asleep,” He mumbled, yawning a second time. He had the slightest red tinge on his face as he realised he had been resting against her.

“No worries, I did too,” She confessed, now yawning herself. “Bebe just texted, and there has been a change of plans. Wendy and Stan are staying in Wendy’s old room tonight, so you can either stay here or get a cab home by yourself?” She didn’t particularly like the idea of him getting a cab home alone at that time of night, particularly if he would be returning to an empty apartment.

“Where would I sleep?” He asked. She could tell he didn’t really want to go back to his apartment alone.

“The couch hurts like hell, but that’s an option, or you can just sleep in here,” She shrugged, sitting up properly as she realised the dress had ridden up in her sleep, and she was a small movement away from accidentally flashing him. She tried to casually pull it down as much as possible. “I don’t mind. We’ve already proved we can both sleep here, and you don’t seem like a creep.” 

“Thanks, neither do you… I’ll stay here,” He nodded sleepily, sitting himself up with her. “Do you know if Clyde has any clothes I can change into? These jeans are uncomfortable to sleep in. My legs feel dead.”

“I don’t know how much of his stuff Clyde has moved in yet, or where it would be,” Y/N swung her legs over the bed and stood up, stretching a little. “I probably have something; hold on.” 

“Your dress is- uh-“ Kyle stuttered a little and diverted his attention to the ceiling to avoid looking at Y/N’s exposed behind.

“Shit, I am so sorry,” She sighed, trying to pull the dress down to cover her again. “This is Bebe’s dress. I’m not used to it.”

“No worries,” He looked at her again once it was safe, watching as she crossed the room and rifled through her dresser, pulling a couple of pairs of sweatpants and a few t-shirts out.

“Take your pick,” She threw them onto the end of the bed. “My mom wanted to throw my older brother’s clothes out when he went travelling, but I just repopulated my wardrobe with them.” Kyle grabbed some at random, as did Y/N. She usually wore the hand-me-downs to sleep. “Bathroom is down the hall, and it’s the first door to the left.”

Kyle made his way to the bathroom slowly and sleepily. He got changed into the borrowed clothes that were just slightly too big on his slim frame but very comfortable. They were perfect to sleep in. Once changed, he found his way back to Y/N’s room, where she was pulling her shirt on.

“Sorry!” He diverted his eyes again, realising he’d waltzed in unannounced while she was changing.

“I accidentally flashed my whole ass at you a minute ago because of that scrap of fabric Bebe calls a dress, don’t worry about it,” Y/N laughed, grabbing a wipe to rid herself of the makeup Bebe had put on her. It had smudged a little in her sleep, the eyeliner and mascara pooling under her eyes, making her look more tired than she already felt. “They’re going to order some food in when they get here. You hungry?”

“Starving,” Kyle nodded, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Any idea where from?”

“We always pretend to look at the options for five minutes before deciding on that burger place Kenny works for,” She explained, tying her hair back to keep it out of her face. “The fries are so greasy but so good. We’re lucky we get a friends and family discount with the amount we spend in there.”

“Kenny stops by with food from there on game nights. It’s the best,” He agreed with a small smile.

The sound of a key struggling to unlock the front door rang through the apartment before the 4 friends stumbled in.

“Whooo! Let’s keep this party going!” Clyde cheered loudly, still clutching what appeared to be a bottle of beer, spilling a bit on himself either without noticing or without caring.

“Shh!” Y/N left her room to greet them, followed closely by Kyle. “We have enough noise complaints from the neighbours as it is!”

“And who’s fault is that?” Bebe asked, looking at Y/N smugly. She didn’t seem as drunk in person as she was over text, but Bebe was great at putting on a poker face.

“My one-woman opera in the shower has had many five-star reviews,” Y/N joked. “It’s not my fault our neighbours have no taste.”

“I thought you were being murdered and almost broke the door down,” Stan seemed slightly more sober than the rest of the group but still out of it. He must not have drunk as much after they had left.

“You wouldn’t know true art if it hit you in the face!” She retorted. 

“Yes, I-” Wendy cut Stan off before he could finish what he was saying.

“Don’t!” She held him back. “You’re just asking her to slap you in the face… Again.”

“That was one time!” Y/N protested. “And he baited me into it.”

“You’re staying?” Bebe pointed at Kyle, changing the subject. He nodded in confirmation. She looked him up and down, recognising the clothes to be Y/N’s. A sly smile crossed her lips. “What have you two been up to?” The implications were clear in her voice, but Y/N decided to brush them off without even openly acknowledging them.

“We watched a nature documentary, did sudokus, and then fell asleep until you texted,” Y/N shrugged, knowing that telling the truth would be the best option. Even drunk, Bebe could spot a lie from a mile away. “Did you know that there is a bird in Papua, New Guinea that’s poisonous?”

“The Pitohui,” Kyle added. Y/N smiled at him, happy he had actually paid attention and absorbed some knowledge.

Clyde and Stan whispered something to one another, dissolving in fits of giggles at whatever it was. Y/N knew better than to engage and just ignored them. “Okay, everyone, get your food orders written down somewhere while I grab water and aspirin for you all.” 

“Thanks, Mom!” Stan said sarcastically.

“Fine, then you can suffer,” She rolled her eyes and disappeared to the bathroom to grab the aspirin. She returned to the shared kitchen living space to see that Kyle had already started to get water for everyone. “I have rehydration things somewhere around here.” She mumbled, looking through the cupboards until she found what she was looking for.

“Are you guys seeing this?” Stan pointed at the pair as they prepared the rehydration drinks and aspirin. “This is why I said they needed to meet up. They’re both totally lame.”

“Staniel, we can hear you,” Y/N sighed, grabbing a glass in either hand and passing one to Stan and one to Wendy while Kyle did the same for Bebe and Clyde. “Drink this, take these, thank us later when you only feel slightly shit in the morning instead of completely shit.”

“Have you ordered the food yet?” Clyde groaned, slouching on the sofa. “I’m so hungry.”

“You haven’t given me your orders yet,” Y/N pointed out, but Bebe waved her phone around.

“I started a group chat, and they are in there,” She announced, collapsing on top of Clyde on the couch. “It’s called best friends because that’s what we are.” Y/N sighed and made her way to her room to grab her phone, as she had left it on the bed after Bebe texted her on their way home. Kyle trailed after her, having left his own phone on charge in there.

Y/N checked her messages to see a new group chat had indeed been made and was already flooded with poorly spelt food requests. She assumed the one number she didn’t have saved was Kyle’s, so she quickly saved it under ‘kyle 📗’.

“Here, just add what you want,” She passed her phone over to Kyle after she had input everyone else’s requests. He flicked through and added what he wanted, passing it back to her with a smile.

“Mind if I stay in here while we wait for the food?” He asked, looking over at the door to make sure it was closed. “When Clyde is drunk, he’s a little….”

“Loud? Annoying? More so than usual?” Y/N suggested the descriptions. Kyle nodded a little hesitantly. “Stay in here all you like, dude. I’m staying here as well if that’s okay with you?”

“It’s your room,” He laughed a little. “You don’t have to ask if it's okay with me.”

“Yeah, well, you’re the guest,” She shrugged in response, sitting down on her bed. Kyle followed suit, sitting down next to her. He was so careful in his movements, as if he was worried he was doing something wrong. If Y/N had to be honest, it was a little cute. “I’d bet $10 on Clyde passing out before the food even gets here.”

“I’ll add another $10 for Stan passing out too.”

a/n - let me know if you would like to be on the taglist for this fic

current taglist - @n0tangeliccc @solana-central @charqing-qing @eiizabeth-torres @hand-writxen @audiliah

#kyle broflovski #kyle broflovski fic #south park fanfiction #south park fic #south park kyle #south park #kyle broflovski x reader #alaysh suddenlybambi #alaysh #as long as you stay here

[sinsandsuccubus]

Slutty and kinky sex with Urban on the tour bus

Riding the Magic Tour Bus - Urban Wyatt

Context: You're in for a magical ride...

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 1.2k

Pairings: Urban Wyatt x Fem!Reader

Warning: 18+! , sexual activity

A/N: I want Urban to fuck me silly. Okay, that is all.

-

Please DO NOT ENGAGE if not 18+. Reader's discretion is advised. I am not responsible if YOU CHOOSE to continue.

-

Masterlist ☽☾

                                          ☽ ☾

The tinted windows did nothing to hide the beauty outside the bus that you were seeing. Archways, tall stone buildings, clever fashion “models” waking amongst the street.

If it had not been for your family, you would have moved to this city in a heartbeat.

Jack was on tour in another beautiful city; and despite the number of times you’d taken walks and tours around it, you couldn’t get enough.

Even the photos your boyfriend had too wouldn’t suffice.

Urban currently had his head in your lap, your manicured nails rubbing against his scalp as he hummed, goosebumps littering his skin.

“That feels so good baby.”

“I knew you had a thing for people touching your head.”

“Yeah, but you’re the only one who can touch my head.”

It took you a moment to catch what Urban was speaking of, because you smacked him against the skull, giggling as he sat up to rub the area.

“Ouch Y/N!”

“You’re so perverted, ohmygod!”

“Hey you two love birds!” You heard Jack call from the front, the two of you leaning to the side down the alley to catch his glance.

“Neelam and I are gonna go and do this appearance real quick, it shouldn’t take that long since it’s a pop-up. Don’t get into any shit while you’re on this bus.” Jack scolded as the both of you saluted the man, watching as his lengthy figure follow behind the shorter woman off the bus, leaving only the two of you.

You both looked at each other before smirking.

“Wanna fuck?”

“Of course I do.” You laughed, standing up from your seat before moving to the cabin in the back. Urban took to smacking your ass, you yelping with a little jump as he followed you.

“Fuck, Urban!”

“I know you can take harder than that. Besides, it’s revenge for smacking me upside the head.”

“Yeah well, you deserved it for that damn joke.”

“And you deserve this pipe I’m about to give you.” He slammed the door shut before pushing you down on the bed, swiftly removing himself from his clothes and confines.

You followed the same, your bra the last thing to take off, massaging your tits once the fabric had been removed.

“Mmm, you look good baby. So good I could eat you.”

“Then do it.” You muttered softly, to which Urban took your legs over his shoulders, placing his face between your thighs. He blew onto your unclothed pussy, shivers littering down your spine.

“Fuck, Urban please..”

“Please what?”

“Please touch me.”

“Touch you where?” You whined at his obvious obliviousness, which earned you a slap on your clit, body jolting.

“Talk to me.”

“I want you to touch my pussy Urban, please fuck me with your tongue and fingers.”

“Good girl.” He cooed before engulfing your clit into his mouth, sucking on the bud. You moaned out and arched up into the sheets, Urban pressing firmly on your hips to keep your down on the bed.

“Mm, keep still baby girl, or I’ll have to stop.” He spoke out into the air before diving back in, paying close attention to your folds.

The sound of your arousal and his tongue working mercilessly on your pussy echoed throughout the room, your hands moving to grip his hair.

“Urban, fuck.” You moaned out, breath hitched.

“Fuck ma, you taste like heaven.” He announced, now using his fingers to prod at your entrance. He scooped some of your slick up before placing it on his tongue.

“Mm, yeah, baby girl. I need the full thing.” And he dove into your pussy once more, using his fingers in a scissoring motion while he lapped at your clit.

Your body began to shake with pleasure as you were brought closer and closer to the edge, the sinful sounds getting louder and louder.

“Mm, you gonna cum for me ma? You gonna cum all over my tongue?”

“Fuck, yes Urban yes, m’gonna cum.” You declared before you fell short, Urban withdrawing from you.

“The only place you’re cumming is on my dick.” He spoke before thrusting into you smoothly, automatically hitting that spot that made you squeal.

Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist, his hands planting on the bed beside you as he thrust up into you at a rapid pace.

“UrbanUrbanUrbanUrbanUrbanUrban.” You chanted his name like a mantra, moving back and forth from a grip on his arms to a grip on the sheets.

“Yes baby, fuck you feel so good. Such a good girl.” You moaned out at his compliments, your legs shaking with pleasure.

“Urb…” You panted, looking up at him with hooded eyes.

That’s when Urban got the brilliant idea to fuck you against the bus window, his cock still sheathed within you as he maneuvered both your bodies, your hands braced against the glass.

He began thrusting up into you once more, your tits pressing up against the cool surface, eyes fluttering shut.

It was then that Urban pulled your head down by your hair, forcing you to look up at him, back arched.

“Keep your eyes open when I fuck you. You understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes daddy.”

“Good girl.” He groaned before letting go of your hair, your head jerking forward as he landed a smack to your ass.

“Shit baby, your ass looks so good. Push back into me. Be a good little slut and push back into me.” He commanded, and you followed his order, thrusting back into him as he pushed you closer to the edge.

Dipping his fingers into your mouth, which he demanded you sucked on, he applied the damp digits to your clit, making you yell out in pleasure.

“Fuck daddy please, please please please.”

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum.”

He pondered the action before moaning “cum for me” into your ear, your body thrashing as you came all over him.

However, Urban didn’t let up.

“Daddy, daddy…”

“Shh, you can give me one more. You’re daddy’s little cock slut aren’t ya? You can give me another.”

It wasn’t long before you came around him again, squirting against the wall of the cabin as Urban came with you, his warm seed shooting up deep inside you.

“Fuck that was good. You okay baby?”

“Yes Urby, I’m fine.” He pulled out of you, spinning you around and kissing your lips softly and sensually.

“Let’s get cleaned up before Jack comes back hmm?”

“Yeah, or we’ll have our asses handed to us.” You both chuckled, freezing when you heard Jack’s voice from the front of the bus.

“I’ll have your asses right now then.”

-

Tags ♡︎

@heavyhitterheaux

@vegan4jack

@velvetstreets

@harlowsbby

@harlowcomehome

@raelorns21

@jackharlowsbabe

@harlowthot

@hoodharlow

@lcandothisallday

@pianoisland

#urban wyatt #urban wyatt concept #urban wyatt fic #urban wyatt fanfiction #urban wyatt x reader #urban wyatt imagine #urban wyatt x y/n #urban wyatt x you

[f10werfae]

What is Victoria’s Secret Anyway?

Pairing: Husband! Chris Evans x Model! Reader

Word count: 1,411

Summary: When Y/n gets a massive career opportunity, all she wants is her husband’s support, and she always gets what she wants

Warnings: none really, just get ready for a very confident and maneater Y/n 😩

————-

Requests are always open!

Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

————-

(Y/n's P.O.V)

This was the absolute turning point of my career, my manager had just contacted me about the opportunity of a lifetime.

One of the top dogs in Victoria Secret seemed to be really pleased with my continuous work with them, so now i’ve been offered the opportunity to be the new Victoria Secret Angel.

Growing up I had always felt confident in myself, not narcissistic, I definitely know what I want and I will get what I want. Including men.

I guess my personality is how I bagged my husband, Chris Evans. Sure when I first met him I pretended to not acknowledge him, but hey it worked in the end.

Now with us going on being 3 years together, he had never been to one of my runway shows, purely because he said he’d rather not observe men 'ogling' at his wife.

Although if I asked nicely, with this being such a big thing, surely he’d say yes to coming along. After being told the spectacular news by my agent at the company, I ran downstairs to the living to see him watching his scheduled football match on the TV.

Adorning a white tank top and grey sweatpants, God I could eat him right there and then. Clearing my throat, I slowly walked towards him, sitting myself to straddle his lap.

“Hey baby, what d'ya want? I know that look of yours”

He said smugly, his hands massaging my waist, his eyes looking deeply into mine.

“Oi! Jus cause i’m here doesn’t mean I want something” I replied back cheekily, crossing my hands over my chest, turning my head to the side. Always acting the brat I was.

“Awk come on now bub, don’t go all pouty on me” He cooed, his hand holding onto my chin, pulling me to look at him, his other hand going down to stay on my ass.

Rolling my eyes at his hand placement, I wrapped my arms around his neck I bent down so we were eye level.

“I guess you could make it up to me?” I said playing around with the chain around his neck, not daring to look at his beautiful blue eyes.

“Yeah, how’s that?”

“Well, I just heard from a little bird that I may be the new Victoria Secret Angel”

“Mhm, of course look at you hun, you’re a diamond”

“yeah yeah, anyways I was wondering if my lovely husband would want to come watch me?”

“Look at me in the eyes and ask me again”

Hearing his authoritative tone, I looked up, that same smug look still plastered on his handsome face.

“Will you, pretty please come and watch my runway show?”

“Hmm give me a kiss first”

He said teasingly, his hands clasped around my body at the bottom of my back, caging our bodies together.

Leaning forward, I pressed my lips against his, a satisfied groan leaving his lips as I cupped his cheeks to deepen it. Pulling away, I placed a series of small pecks on his lips before sitting up right again.

“Well?”

“I’ll think about it baby”

“That’s it? After all that?”

“Mhm, now pass my beer over would ya?”

“Hmm no” I said now more annoyed, getting up from his lap and walking back upstairs, hearing him chuckling from the living room.

(Time Skip to the Day of the Show)

Chris and I never discussed the runway show again, taking his answer as a no. Although it didn’t really bother me, I knew he loved me and I guess if I had to watch my husband being ogled I wouldn’t exactly be comfortable either.

Looking at myself in the dressing room, I ran my hands over the Lacey lingerie coating my glowy skin. The massive baby blue feathered wings, coming out of the back. The lingerie fit perfectly, it was extremely empowering to have this opportunity.

To show the world that this is what I worked hard for, I love myself and nothings going to stop that. I could care less what people say about me walking in a lingerie set, because only my opinion matters.

My face had beautiful makeup, jewels glued around my eye to contribute to the eye makeup, my hair left down to frame my face.

“Y/n you rea- Oh my gosh” Bethany said, my manager.

“Yeah i’m ready” I said taking a deep breath in and running my hands down my body.

“You look absolutely stunning, and I mean i am starstruck”

“Shutup girl before I start crying, and you know how long this makeup took”

“I’m sorry i’m just so proud of you, went from small town grocery store posters to a globally known model for all women”

“Yeah I know, it’s crazy isn’t it?”

“Now are you ready to kill it?”

“Hell yeah”

Walking towards the side entrance of the stage, I could already hear the singer on stage, the cheers of the people getting louder.

Turning to Bethany, “Did Chris end up coming by any chance?” I asked hopefully, biting my lip.

She gave me a slightly small smile before shaking her head, “Not that I know of, but i’m sure he’s watching proudly at home with Dodger”

“You’re right. Well here I go” With a final pat on the back, my heels clicked as I walked into view. My wings spread out gracefully behind me, cameras already starting to flash.

Smiling brightly, I started walking down the runway, feeling instantly at my highest. Meeting the eyes of many famous designers and celebrities as I sauntered down the walkway, reaching the end of the walkway I put my hands on my hips and smiled at the cameras.

Looking down when I saw those same beautiful blue eyes, the ones that greet me every time I come home from a long day. My husband. Chris.

Noticing my subtlety shocked expression, he clapped along with the audience sending a wink my way before whistling, “THATS MY WIFE!” He shouted cupping his mouth, whistling once again.

Giving one final smile and blowing Chris a kiss, I began walking down the walkway again, my heart thumping more rapidly in my chest,

Reaching the backstage Bethany was waiting for me, the stylists already helping to pull the heavy wings off my back.

Reaching Bethany, she gave me my silk robe to put on, “He came Bethany, Chris was here” I said smiling gleefully, feeling like a kid in a candy shop.

“REALLY?!”

“YEAH” Then we both erupted into excited squeals and giggles

“There’s my girl” I heard that husky voice say behind me, an even bigger smile forming onto my face.

“CHRIS BABY”

I shouted, running into his arms with my arms around his torso. His hands rubbing up and down my back comfortingly.

Dragging him into my personal dressing room, I stood shyly in front of him.

“What’s got you all shy, pretty girl”

“I jus wasn’t expecting you baby, what made you change your mind?”

“Well, I wanted to be here to support you and realised how much I wanted to see you doing the job you love. I don’t care if men look at you during your runways, because in the end, I know you’re coming home with me.”

“I love you so much” I said feeling on cloud 9, no thoughts in my head except for how much I loved Chris.

“Trust me, I love you way more” He said smirking at me, pulling at the edges of my robe to pull me closer to him, placing a fat loving kiss on my lips.

“Well what did you think of it?”

“God I f*cking loved it, getting to tell everyone 'oh yeah that gorgeous woman is my wife' I am so proud of you hun, and I swear I just fell in love with you even more. If that’s even possible”

“You are so corny, now wait ten minutes while I get changed”

Leaving his arms I walked over to the clothing rack, got my undergarments, picked up Chris’ shirt and sweatpants I wore earlier and put them back on again. Not that easy though when your perv of a husband is in the same room.

“Lets go home yeah?” I said picking up my duffle bag, only for him to take it off my shoulder and hold it over his. His arm going around my waist to pull me into his side protectively.

“Say babe, what is Victoria's Secret anyway?”

#chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans #chris evans rpf #chris evans fanfiction #romance #writerscorner

[serial-designation-dz]

Here’s the first part of the oneshot series I promised!

Stargazing - Part 1:

In which Delta-Z spends some quality time with her lost lover.

Stargazing had always been a source of comfort for the young berserker drone, but now, after finally breaking free from her old leader’s abuse, the stars looked brighter than ever. For the first time, possibly ever, Delta-Z felt safe. She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her canine-modeled face, watching as a comet shot through the sky, the embers of its tail leaving a bright streak on the night sky. Copper-9’s nights were often cold and barren, the skies sealed off by an impenetrable layer of clouds, which made clear nights like this all the more precious to the young drone. Now, she perched on top of the entrance to the mineshaft her squad now called home, and watched the stars sparkle in the sky.

Z must’ve been staring at the night sky for hours when the sound of footsteps shook her from her stargazing induced stupor. She looked to where she had heard the sound, seeing her friend(?), Delta-Y. Her fellow wind berserker approached her cautiously, a confused smile on her face, “what are you doing out here, Z? Is something wrong?” she asked, her mouth curving into a frown at the thought of Z being hurt or upset by something. Delta-Z quickly shook her head to ease the older drone’s worries, a gesture that brought relief to Y’s features. Z looked back to the dark canvas of night, “I’m just looking at the stars.” the younger drone replied casually.

Blush lit up Z’s visor as Y sat down next to her, “I don’t mean to sound rude… but why do you stare at them so much? I’m not judging, just curious.” the older drone asked, remembering all the times she had caught the younger drone staring at the stars, but was too upset or scared to ask her why. Delta-Z struggled to describe her feelings about the tiny lights dotting the sky (though she knew that most stars were anything but tiny). She coughed up some static before finally finding the words, “they’re just so… pretty! And bright!” Z exclaimed, waving her arms at the sky, nearly falling off the mineshaft’s arched entrance before Y extended an arm and stabilized her. The pair giggled before falling silent again. After a while, the young drone decided to tell one of the more out there reasons for her habit, “they tell stories if you look hard enough.” and help me forget about what he did, was left unsaid.

Y looked at her companion in confusion, “stories?” Delta-Z nodded up at the sky, pointing excitedly, “yeah! Look! Those stars look like a bird if you draw lines between them!” Y looked to where the younger drone was pointing. Sure enough, the cluster of stars above formed an oddly shaped avian creature. Before she could ask more questions, Z pointed at another cluster of stars, “that one looks like a kitten!” she said childishly. Y couldn’t help but laugh at her companion’s antics; despite her memories being taken, Z’s personality had barely changed since the wipe. Makes sense; you can’t erase what’s important, Y thought lovingly. The younger drone lowered her hand, “I’ll bet they’re good friends, playing up there every night!” she said. Y smiled at Z’s naivety, but friendship was not typically the first thing that came to Y’s mind when it came to avian and feline relations…

The two continued to gaze at the stars and tell stories about the different constellations (though Z was much better than Y on that front, it was clear she had a lot of experience. Y wondered just how often she had been doing this.) for a long time. The sheer amount of stories Z came up with was staggering; a deer running through the woods while evading a predator, a butterfly soaring through clouds while looking for a friend, a fox digging through the earth for food; she had many stories in her head. Y was amazed at just how quickly she came up with things, X had truly been wrong about her intelligence. Y was acutely aware of the pair’s positioning on the old archway, Z having subconsciously leaned into Y’s shoulder without noticing. Y noticed, but she wasn’t about to push her away, she got quite a bit of enjoyment out of it.

Z stopped, before pointing at another constellation, “...that one kind of… looks like X.” she said quietly, Y not unaware of how downtrodden her voice became. Without thinking, Y wrapped a hand around Z’s back, pulling the younger drone closer, “we don’t have to make a story about him. What other stars do you see?” Y asked, not wanting Z’s mind to linger on her tormentor for long. Z simply nodded and looked around for more stories, eager to forget about her disgraced leader, but of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

The mere thought of X watching her from the stars was enough to throw the younger drone into a spiral. A spiral which contained every insult he ever threw, every punch she failed to dodge, every race she lost, every way she wasn’t enough.

Y was getting worried; Z’s stories had suddenly become much darker. It started with the deer getting caught, then the fox starving to death in a surprise famine…

…then the butterfly was doomed to be alone. Y knew that Delta-Z had to be projecting on that one.

After finishing off the butterfly, Y was surprised to hear soft sniffling from the younger drone. Looking down to her companion, her suspicions were confirmed: Z was crying, digital tears dripping down her visor. Immediately, her arms were around the younger drone, pulling the distressed berserker into her lap and wrapping her wings around them both protectively. All the while, Z muttered out a string of heartbreaking apologies, for whatever happened on earth, for forgetting her, for letting that family get killed by X, and, worst of all, abandoning Y. The older drone shushed her after that, none of what she was apologizing for was her fault, she knew, but Y also knew that Z wouldn’t accept that fact just yet. So, the two sat in a comfortable embrace, neither wanting to let go.

Eventually, the younger drone’s whimpers faded into quiet snores and her body went limp. Y looked at her now sleeping companion, scooping the girl up and hoisting her over her shoulders, as if giving Y was just giving her a piggy-back ride (which she used to do before the wipe). Quietly making her way back into their cave, Delta-Y set the younger drone down on the cold, rocky floor, before wrapping her up and taking her place as the big spoon.

Soon, there were two sources of quiet snores in the cave.

That was sadder than I intended, lucky there’s a happy ending!

#murder drones #murder drones au #murder drones oc #serial designation delta z #murder drones fanart #serial designation delta y #original character #serial designation delta x #angst #hurt/angst #hurt/comfort #fanfic #fanart #angst with a happy ending #murder drones fanfic

[etherealmoonflower]

~Start of something new~

Pairing: Xiaojun x fem!reader

Synopsis: As a drama student at university a lot is going on in your life with studies and creating work. On a whim you decide that signing up for the winter musical that the drama society is creating in hopes of getting a small background character to work on your fright if singing in front of people, especially on stage seems like a good idea until you end up getting one of the main parts in the musical.

Au: university au, musical theatre au, social media au

Authors note: This is my first time creating a social media au, so bear with me if it’s not as good as some of the others out there😅 I wanna try my best to be as inclusive as possible when writing/creating this story so I will not be using any pictures to describe what (y/n) looks like and I’ll do my best to stay away from describing (y/n) regarding looks too much since like I said I want to try and make this smau work for a lot of people! I will be using she/her pronoun for the reader as a fyi in this story! Thoughts and comments are always welcomed❣️

Tag list: if anyone would want to be added to a tag list let me know and I’ll fix it☺️

Introduction 2:

Dejun: 1st year music student, has a YouTube channel where he upload original songs and covers. Joined the animal rescue society immediately when he heard about it. Stressed out dad for Bella. Friends with Ten as they did collaborations on both of their YouTube channels the same year Ten was a first year at uni.

Ten: 2nd year dance student, has done a lot of dance work online and irl and post classes and videos of him dancing to YouTube. Went to uni to challenge himself even more and to broaden his horizon within dance.

Kun: 2nd year music student. He is a brilliant composer and has already managed to write and compose several songs for artist. He and Dejun hit off in the “music box” building after he got to hear Dejun sing. He’s a part of so many societies just for fun and never misses a single meeting nor deadline from Uni.

Hendery: 1st year photography student. He went viral when he posted some of his first pictures he took for his portfolio which was of baby birds. He’s friends with Sicheng and Kun and meet Dejun and Ten through Kun. A jokester at heart and sometimes he helps Ten film his dance videos.

Sicheng: 2nd year modeling/fashion student. Went into fashion to learn more about making sustainable clothing and ended up modeling as well. Joined a book club at the library and ended up befriending Yangyang that way. Surprisingly passionate about books, once created a whole essay and PowerPoint discussing why he thought the book they had read was atrocious.

Previous ° Masterlist ° Next

#wayv #weishenv #xiaojun x y/n #xiaojun x you #xiaojun x reader #wayv smau #wayv yangyang #wayv xiaojun #wayv ten #wayv winwin #wayv hendery #wayv kun #wayv x reader #wayv fluff #Nct #nct xiaojun #nct hendery #nct ten #nct kun #nct yangyang #nct winwin #Tsuki #billlie tsuki #Sejeong #gugudan sejeong #WayV social media au #Nct smau #Nct social media au #nct wayv #xiao dejun

[travlersjoy444]

Teatime (Part 12)

 TOH Hunter/Golden Guard x reader

 Masks and Bets part twelve. The links to the other parts are now at the bottom of the page, as well as an extremely important author's note regarding the fate of this story.

*******

  I placed the final lantern squash on the new mantelpiece and grinned.

  “Ta-da! Now we’re ready for Eerie Season!”

  Lilith clapped politely. “It looks lovely, (Y/N)!”

  I nodded. “I think I’m gonna force Luz to wear a costume…although, actually, she seems like she’d be pretty receptive. Hunter on the other hand….” My voice trailed off, and I cringed. “Er…Mum, when do you think we can save Hunter?” I said softly.

  She sighed, looking tired. “I don’t know. I wish I had a solid answer, but….I don’t. Let’s take one step at a time, right?”

  I nodded dejectedly.

  She was right, of course, logically speaking. We had finally finished unpacking all our stuff as we moved into the Bryony’s old house- Lilith had gone all out Deadwardian style when it came to the interior design, and it looked like a bona fide historical home. I quite liked it- it lended itself quite nicely to the haunted mansion vibes I was aiming for in my Eerie Season decorations.

  But anyways. I had been bugging her about saving Hunter, but she was right- we had no means of it. Heck, Hunter didn’t realize it, but his scroll literally only worked for people within the coven! (I only discovered this because I borrowed it once to text Emira.)

  I was broken from my thoughts when my scroll rang.

  “Heya Willo-Wisp.” I said, answering the call.

  “Hi (Y/N)! I know you only attend Hexside for the first half of the week, but do you want to come to the club fair?”

  Hell no. “Sorry Willow, no-can-do. I’ll be busy…having…cholera…….so.” I lied. Mum stared at me as I spoke, stifling laughter.

  “...What’s cholera?” Willow responded.

  “An…illness. I’ll be fine though, see ya later-”

  “Er, okay, see you.” Willow hung up.

  “What was that?” Lilith snorted.

  “Willow invited me to the club fair. I really don’t want to be in a club right now though….y’know, whatwith how behind I am in my homework.....”

  Mum raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you ahead of everyone? I’m pretty sure I taught you mainly adult level spells.”

  I slouched. She’d caught me. “Yeah….I don’t know. I guess it feels like I’m behind in experience….I don’t even have a palisman anymore.”

  Lilith nodded thoughtfully. “I don’t really know how to help you with your social issues other than listening to you vent, but….I might be able to get you some palistrome wood. Let me just call Dad and Edalyn…” 

*******

  “Hey kid!” Said Eda, throwing the door open. “You’ve carved one of these before, right?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “Thank you for the supplies, guys!”

  “We’re happy to help, (Y/N)!” Smiled Dell Clawthorne. 

  “What do you think you’re going ro carve?” Lilith grinned.

  “Er…I don’t know…my last palisman was a bat, but….y’know….” I swallowed. “So uh….maybe something else this time.”

  “Well…you come up with a few sketches, and I’ll set everything up, okay?” Mum smiled, and we set to work.

*******

  I added the final carving. It wasn’t perfect, but Eda and Dell gave me some tips….it was the best I was gonna get, so I was pleased with it. Slowly but surely, the lines on the model began to glow as my new palisman came to life. 

  She slowly lifted her wings and raised her head, chirping softly.

  “Hi!” I whispered, watching as the wood transformed into shiny black feathers. She flapped her wings and lifted off the coffee table, landing on my outstretched hand.

  I was half-aware of Eda high-fiving Lilith behind my back, but I focused on the bird. 

  “What’s your name?” I asked softly.

  She chirped, hopping off my hand to land on the calendar. She tapped one of the days.

  “Er…Fourteen?” I said hesitantly.

  She shook her head, tapping again.

  “...Thursday?”

  She nodded happily, landing on my shoulder- which she barely fit on, considering how large she was. I had carved the raven to scale.

  “Hi Thursday, welcome to the family!” Said Eda, grinning as Owlbert flew next to her. The two birds chirped, dialoguing about something I couldn’t quite understand yet. 

  Suddenly my scroll dinged. I checked the message…it was from Darius.

  Darius: Hey Hotshot, I know you’re not getting involved in the Coven anymore, but you might wanna check this out. The Little Prince has decided to kidnap some of your friends…it’s okay, I’ll fix it, but you might wanna come help nonetheless.

  “Er…Lilith?” I mumbled, showing her the message.

  She sighed. “A mission, (Y/N)?”

  I faltered. “I mean, I don’t have to go, I can just stay here if you want-”

  She shook her head. “No, go on. Maybe use this as an opportunity to get to know your palisman.”

  I grinned, hugging her. “Thanks Lilith! I’ll stay safe, I promise- Hey Thursday, you ready for your first mission?”

  The raven nodded firmly, transforming into a staff. 

  “Thanks so much you guys!” I waved, stepping out of the house.

  I shut the door and hopped onto my new staff.

  You: Where is he?

  Darius: Hexside

  You: I’m on my way

  *******

  I landed on the bleachers by the grudgeby court as silently as I could muster. The place was indeed overrun by coven scouts, and Hunter was at the side of it all smiling cheerily.

  …Oh. Knowing Hunter, he probably thought he was helping somehow….what an idiot. 

  And yet despite the context, I found myself smiling at the sight of him. I shook it off though- now was not the time for a reunion. I wasn’t strong enough to fight off all these scouts plus Hunter, so I decided to follow them in hopes of confronting him at the holding cell…and hopefully reassuring Willow and Gus that Darius was trustworthy.

  Cool. I’ve got a plan. Lovely.

  I flew after the caravan, keeping my distance and hiding behind clouds as much as I could- and before I could even manage to prepare a speech for Hunter, we had reached the Bonesborogh branch of the Emperor’s Coven.

  I swallowed, landing near a bush as the scouts nudged Willow, Gus, Scarah, and Viney into the building.

  “We’ve got this, right Thursday?” I whispered. She gave a short chirp and a half-nod in response.

  “Cool cool.” I swallowed again, pulling up the hood to my cloak. I climbed out of the bushes, when-

  “(Y/N)?!”

  Shit!

  “Hey Steve…” I mumbled.

  “Man, I haven’t seen you since Lilith’s party! How’ve you been, kid?” He said cheerily, ruffling my hair. 

  I felt a smile tugging my lips. “Good. I’ve been pretty good. How ‘bout you? What’s with the ice pack?”

  He shrugged. “One of the kids punched me. It was fair though- we were kidnapping her, y’know? I deserved it, dude.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, you kinda did. You should quit the Coven and work at the museum with me and Lulu!”

  He sighed. “I’m working on it, don’t worry.”

  “I have complete faith in you, mate.” I said firmly, patting him on the shoulder. “Welp, I’m off to go fight with my friend and save some kids. Talk to ya later, yeah?”

  “Thanks (Y/N).” He shook his head. “I’d better see you at my official ‘You quit your job’ party, yeah?”

  “Heck yeah!” I agreed enthusiastically. “I’ll even invite Lilith!”

  Waving good-bye to Steve, I refocused on getting to Hunter. 

  Okay. Darius will be here in…about two minutes. Cool. 

  I took a deep breath and approached the station door, knocking once.

  It swung open…

  “Hey.” Said a familiar voice.“I’m a little busy right now, okay, citizen?”

  Hunter shut the door.

  “He….He didn’t recognize me?” 

  Terra Snapdragon. 

  Well…my life just got a little more complicated. Fantastic.

*******

Author's note:

So uh. 

It's been a while since I started writing this, at least for me- I think it began in March? Um.

Well...I've had a few discoveries since March. For one, I'm not a girl. 

For another, I...I don't actually like boys romantically.

Now, this adds a couple obvious complications to my writing of this story, which I will address shortly- but first, (and this is admittedly kinda silly) I wanted to re-introduce myself to you guys.

Hi, I'm Casper. I'm a teenage boy who is only attracted to girls. (I'm still on the aro spectrum, but to avoid too many specifications, I'll just say that I'm not really one for labels and leave it at that.)

"So Caz," you say, "Why did you write this if you don't romantically like boys?"

And to that I say- "I don't owe you an explanation, bud- But for the sake of being read correctly, I'll just put it bluntly. ...Yeah no it was just gender envy. I've pretty much mistook envy for attraction my whole life."

"Yeesh Casper. You are a dense, dense boy- even more then (Y/N) and Hunter were at the start of this book."

Ouch. Yet so accurate.

And now onto the interesting part: The fate of this book.

I'm just gonna get the big question out of the way- this book is NOT discontinued. I may have realized that I'd rather be Hunter than kiss Hunter, but dude, I've come so far! I'm not giving it up for something as silly and trivial as having my life turned semi-upside down- Nah, I've got too many schemes and plans to just stop writing! You'll keep getting updates of your-not-at-all-scheduled dose of 'Casper writing about a boy he doesn't have a crush on', I promise.

"Erm...that's real nice, mate," You say awkwardly, "But literally why are you telling me this?"

Well well well well well WELL WELL WELL....Because of two primary reasons. 

Firstly, I want your help with this. I don't know what you guys want, romance speaking. Obviously I've committed to making it at least semi romantic- perhaps not in an all out romance, but more of a Jesse and Lake from Infinity Train situation? 

(Unrelated, but message me if you wanna dress up as the Lake to my Jesse this Halloween. I freaking love their dynamic and look kinda like Jesse, so.)

(I'm kidding about that- unless you DO wanna, in which case, be my guest. That'd make my day.)

(This is probably getting confusing for folks who haven't seen Infinity Train. Sucks to suck, I guess)

(Yeesh, you can tell that it's late in my timezone- I'm getting kinda unhinged.)

Anyways. I got a bit sidetracked there, but the point is- tell me what you want romantically from this story! No guarantees they'll end up in it, but I wanna hear from you guys! Share your thoughts! Battle in the comments! Threaten to make a 'voodoo doll Casper' for you to slowly shove needles into whenever the story isn't going your way! Actually, please don't do that last one! 

Now the second reason why I'm posting this is because...well. I risk getting a bit deep here but uh...I guess I'm still typing, so.

I'm posting this because I'm sick of people thinking I like boys.

Everyone including me has been under the impression that I generally like boys for the past fourteen years, and man. I'm getting tired of it. I've been tired of it for while, I think. So I guess I just...wanted you guys to know, let you into my psyche just a little bit. I want to say at long last that I'm a boy who likes girls. 

(Kind of ironic that I'm coming out as straight, huh? I'm still asexual and demiromantic for lack of a better term though, so I'm not like *totally* straight? I dunno, don't overthink it.)

So uh...yeah. Hi, I'm Casper. I'm the author of this book, and I'm also a tallish teenage boy with dark hair and black eyes. I love daydreaming, autumn, and dressing in sweaters while stubbornly ignoring the obnoxious September heat. I'm a somewhat straight dude who blames his apparent femininity on being half Italian and half Chinese, which works out more often then not....

Hi, I'm Casper. It's awesome to finally meet you. It's a pleasure to finally be known.

*******

Taglist:

@vievi

@generousdoodleforillustration

@harlanfalcon

@ronipiamka

@draarnaak

@cloud-9ine

@jinxed-jk

@not-nubno

@hunter-therapy

Links:

Masks and Bets (Part 1)

Masks and Beasts (Part 2)

Masked and Beat (Part 3)

Masked (and Unmasked) On the Seas (Part 4)

Cracks in a Mask (Part 5)

Revelations (Part 6)

Bad Moon Rising (Part 7)

Hey Lilith (Part 8)

Way Home (Part 9)

Back to the Future (Part 10)

Lost Threads (Part 11)

#x reader #the owl house hunter x reader #the owl house x reader #the owl house #the golden guard #golden guard x reader #toh hunter x reader #hunter toh #toh golden guard #toh golden guard x reader

[intherainbowfactory]

We are gathered here today, to pay tribute to @woo-catwaffles-deactivated20230, whose blog was cut tragically short mere days ago.

He was a frienly boy, who would give you a big hug. They were a devoted and talented artist, with a great heart and a love for the LGBTQ+ and disabled community. They created many original posts: commissions, of which they did freely and without bond, whenever they were able to. They reblogged many fandoms and many posts that might not have reached a higher status if it weren't for their intervention.

@woo-catwaffles. @woo-catwaffles. @woo-catwaffles.

They mattered in this site. Their interactions gave me and many others a simple smile, and it is a terrible loss to see them gone. Their followers and mutuals will miss them dearly.

In memory of their legacy, I will now post the first 6000 words of the Day Off With Fluttershy free writing commission I was working on for them.

Fluttershy and human reader, on a day off…

-search for bugs, 

-bird watching (i like mourning birds & doves & pigeons ^-^), 

-play hide and seek, 

and then build a fort :3c ?

Reader = dress over tuxedo

Discord and angel bunny exist, maybe.

Perspective: Second person

Tags: Slice of life

Below here be the Story, ay?

“Okay darling, just a little bit more and we’re done,” Rarity mutters apologetically as she adjusts your shoulder seam with a needle and orange silk. It’s the third time she’s done so. You thought your handsome (if a bit frilly) orange gown with the belt-thing get-up looked perfectly fine an hour ago.

An hour ago.

You don’t know how much more of this you can take. All the constant standing, posing, strutting, and running to test for wear in formal ballroom dresses and stuffy business suits… it’s just been getting really old. You’ve been modeling for Rarity in eight-hour shifts for three weeks, six days, two hours, and forty-seven minutes now, not that anyone was counting. The money’s been good, at least, but you really wish there were some more fulfilling job for a human in Equestria than modeling for a crazed and bored fashionista’s whims.

Rarity apparently reads your mind, saying in a soothing voice, “I know you’ve been rather tired of all these adjustments, but I absolutely have to fix this one thing, and then I promise I’ll be done with it.”

“So you say now…” you riposte under your breath, grinding your teeth.

A couple more magicked stitches of silk and she says, “And… done,” taking off her glasses with her hoof to inspect her handiwork for a minute. Satisfied, she levitates her supplies to her messy desk. You sit down in your jeans and t-shirt that Rarity made to order for you (for free!) and are about to ask her what’s next when she turns to you with a soft smile and says, “You’re free to go for today, darling.” 

At the confused look on your face, she smugly adds, “What, you thought I would really keep you here any longer? I may strive to put as much time and effort into my pieces as possible and I may be, well, a workaholic,” she looks sheepish, “but you really need to take some time off from work to just enjoy yourself and hang out with others!”

You weakly protest, “But what about the rest of my—”

“Oh, I’ll still pay you full hours for today,” she giggles. “We can say I’m paying you to stress-test that outfit you have on now. Now go have some fun! Play around in the grass, go out for ice cream… gasp! Maybe even go on a date!” She turns a hopeful smile on you with glitter in her eyes, her matchmaker instinct inflamed.

You just snort and stand up, walking to your bright orange dress of inspiration. “Eh. Well, alright. If you’re sure my outfit’s done.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that, (y/n)! I’m positive that you’ll look absolutely stunning at the Spring Flower Formal in Canterlot.”

You blink. “Is that what this was for?”

“Oh yes,” she absentmindedly states as she begins to levitate a ponyquin and some black fabric in front of her, squinting at it with her glasses. “With how few orders I’ve been getting recently, I’ve made a little game out of designing the dresses or suits a pony would need for each occasion and then predicting ahead of time which ones would actually need to be made. It seems that I was correct, this time.”

“That’s pretty amazing! Even more so considering I haven’t even told anybody I was thinking of going…” You frown and squint suspiciously at the gown, which really does seem like it would perfectly complement the bright, vibrant tones of the flowers of spring. “But now that I think about it,” you say tentatively, “I’m not sure if I should be more impressed or disturbed.”

“You should be more disturbed if it will help you get out of here and into the spring sun more quickly,” Rarity riposted smugly. “After all, it is hardly good form to hang around your place of employment on your day off. I’ve also still got some work of my own that I need to finish, and I very well can’t have you here distracting me while I’m busy making a dress for Twilight to wear to the Vernal Equinox Festival.”

You raise an eyebrow. “She’s getting dressed for the spring equinox?”

Rarity looks at her ponyquin clad in black and delicate shades of purple and back at you with a raised eyebrow of her own. “She is now.”

You exchange goodbyes, grab your coat, and step outside to the sleepy morning streets of Ponyville. A chill wind blows through the air, only kept in check by an unusually bright and sunny sky. The pegasi, at least, did their jobs this morning.

Maybe Fluttershy would want to hang out…

Knocking on the door to Fluttershy’s cottage, you take a moment to truly breathe in the natural environment. The air here feels crisper and unseasonably warmer (but not uncomfortably so) than that of the hamlets of Ponyville, and it seems to just exquisitely fill you up with something that you were missing by being shut up indoors for the past couple days.

You hear a little movement from the other side of the door. Good, Fluttershy’s home. You were wondering if she would be staying home at this time of day. 

Or, well… she’s usually at home tending to her animals, but upon scanning the lush grass highlands around Fluttershy’s little hobbit house, you don’t really see any animals. Or smell them, either. Definitely odd. It could be chalked up to the mammals hibernating for the winter-come-spring, but your recollection of how the town of Ponyville woke up the slumbering bunnies for their Winter Wrap-Up puts that theory to rest. 

The birdhouses placed haphazardly on Fluttershy’s mossy roof also seem to be empty, and, now that you think about it, you couldn’t hear any birds calling out to each other on the path to her house. Curiouser and curiouser…

Suddenly, the door swings open to reveal a truly thick black bear sitting on Fluttershy’s threshold and watching you impassively.

“Ah,” you say. 

The bear, easily matching your height while being more than triple your weight, turns his head down while looking up at you, showing the whites of his eyes like a bored puppy. You rack your brains for any information that could help on the specifics of social interactions with bears, but come up quite short. Just when you’re starting to feel foolish standing on the threshold with your mouth opening and closing, you remember a vital piece of information.

“Your name’s Hank, isn’t it?” you ask.

The bear nods.

“...Cool. Is Fluttershy here?”

The bear nods again and gets up from the floor, revealing his true breadth as he takes a few steps and looks back expectantly, waiting a few awkward moments before you follow him inside.

Fluttershy’s living room has been, apparently, cleaned to within an inch of its life. The floor has been waxed, the cushions and rugs have been reupholstered, it looks like, and the dog bed at the corner of the stairs has been completely erased.

From what you remember to be the kitchen, you barely hear the soft cadence of Fluttershy whispering, “Who is it, Hank?” before you round the corner with the bear himself and the kitchen comes into view. The kitchen is immaculately clean, incredibly so, the dishes and glasses lying on the table sparkle with a mirror-shine. The butter pegasus—Fluttershy herself—is hard at work washing a tea set, with her long pink mane tied into a hairnet so her hair wouldn’t get wet.

She turns to face you and gives a little self-conscious smile that utterly warms your heart and banishes the last vestiges of cold from your body. It’d be cliché to say that her magic and that of nature revived your soul, but considering that she’s the Element of Kindness, there probably was some magic involved. (It might have also been the smell of fresh-cooked bacon lingering in the air.)

“Good morning, (y/n). Oh!” Her expression turns to one of shock before her sheepish smile turns to a sheepish frown and she puts a dish into the sink to paw at the ground. “Um, sorry, but you were a little too late to have tea with me and Hank the Bear here.”

“Sorry…” she repeats, hiding behind her mane.

“Aaarg!” Your heart threatens to give out on you due to Fluttershy’s sheer adorableness.

“Oh, my! Are you okay?” Immediately, she’s hovering at your side with eyes wide, her hoof poking at your chest where your hands had flung themselves over your heart in protection. “Are you hurt anywhere? Oh no! Don’t tell me you ate another poisonous flower!” She baps the side of her head onto the right side of your chest to hear your heartbeat with her ear, but gently, and with only enough force to remind you of a cat’s headbutt.

Pretty soft, 9/10, would recommend. After a few moments, her eyes open wildly and she floats right in front of you. “Oh, no! I can’t feel your heartbeat!” she cries. “What was the color of the flower you ate? How many petals did it have? Oh, no, we have to go to Zecora’s hut to get you an antidote, (y/n)!”

“I, uh—heh heh. Ha ha ha ha ha ha!” You have to hold your stomach to keep the laughter from bursting out.

Fluttershy, bless her heart, spins around to Hank in a panic. “Oh, no, no, no, no, no! Hank, they’re convulsing from the poison! We’ve gotta get them out of here! Here, (y/n), sit on Hank. We’ll take you to Zecora’s,” she says, her hoof slung over your shoulder and nudging you forward a step.

Hank snarls at Fluttershy. Before this point, you almost forgot how dangerous bears were.

She swung in front of the bear, hoof pointed at him as he gazed evenly at her. “Now, don’t be like that, mister! They do not smell like garbage!” That got you to do a double take. “We have to get them to Zecora’s hut, and quickly, because we have to help them,” she says, leveling her Stage Two stare at the humongous mammal that could probably send her flying into the stratosphere if he wanted to. 

Hank snorts out a sigh and stares at me with his eyebrows fixed at you in such a way to make sure you knows he’s annoyed at you. Well, at least Fluttershy has nothing to worry about from him, you think.

You gingerly grab Fluttershy’s hoof from her shoulder, idly noting that it’s about as fluffy as a dog’s paw compared to some of the other ponies, and bring her gently to the ground with a smile. 

“Woah, there, girl. I’m completely fine, Fluttershy,” you say.

“Really?” She examines you with concern in her eyes. “But then why couldn’t I feel a heartbeat?”

“Because, uh, my heart’s on the left side of my body…?” you point out.

“Oh.” She hangs her head low with shame. “Sorry. I might have panicked a little… I was just worried ever since,” she hesitates, “you know, when you first got here—”

“Oof. Don’t remind me,” you say. Those times were really rough. Getting dropped into the middle of the woods with a sudden lack of cell service during the night, having to forage for food and live in a cave like an animal. The nightmarish timberwolves… 

…You shudder at the imagery the memory dredges up, the core of green light in the soulless freakish golem alike to luminescent worms writhing around the heart of a real wolf, how its husks of eyes flashed before your own when it lunged towards you.

Your reaction doesn’t escape her notice, and she begins to tear up. “I’m sorry…” she murmurs.

Awww! You can’t let this happen! You just gotta cheer her up! Besides, you’re starting to feel kinda bad for laughing earlier while she thought you might’ve been poisoned. You crouch down onto your knees to hug her, which she’s surprised about, at first, but she eventually hugs you back.

She’s warm, warmer than the early spring sunlight outside her cottage. Her coat brushes against you, and you can definitely feel how her fur is longer and fluffier than any other pony’s, not to mention softer! The fog of the horrors of the past recede from your mind, allowing you to think clearly and exuberantly for the first time in… days, perhaps? 

Your troubles and worries seem to fade into obscurity as the mere fact of you being there for someone who was hurting, and someone being there for you in kind, lifts your mood, directing your gaze not into the shadowy caverns of the past put into stark contrast by fear’s lantern, but to the glittering stars in the unknowable sky of the future, and ever above the concerns of the material…

Fluttershy’s tears flow on your shoulders. “It’s okay,” you say, petting her head with inscrutable tears forming in your eyes. “I’m fine. I hardly think about that anymore. And when I do, I remember that I’m surrounded by friends now.”

Fluttershy looks up at your chest with mixed feelings evident. “Are you sure you’re okay, (y/n)? I mean, you did seem like you were hurting earlier.”

That was pretty embarrassing… “Oh, uh, I was just a little bit hungry. That’s it.”

Hank snorts at this. You almost forgot he was even here, and you stand up and wheel around in primal worry at the realization that he, in all his two-ton glory, could have effortlessly punted you across the universe at any time that struck his fancy while you were crouched down like that.

Fluttershy senses your anxiety, and, distracted from the prospect of your death, she says, “Oh, don’t worry about Hank. You two just need to get familiar with each other and he’ll be perfectly friendly to you. Here, let him sniff your hand.”

If he could, Hank would reiterate how much he dislikes the smell of humans. As it is, Hank just turns up his nose at you and saunters off to the living room.

Relief fills your body and your facial muscles relax at the bear being out of sight—not because you think he’s dangerous, though. It’s just instinct. Fluttershy, however, frowns after the retreating bear. “Oh…”

After an awkward moment, she looks at you apologetically and says, “Well, um, even after everything, it’s still nice to see you. Especially since almost everycreature else is gone and I’ve got a lot of free time today.”

“Oh yeah,” you muse, “I thought there weren’t as many animals around as I remembered there being before… What’s up with that?”

“I can tell you more about it over tea, if you want,” she says, pointing a foreleg over to the table, before she looks over and realizes it’s bare. “Oh…” Fluttershy looks despondent.

“Don’t worry, Fluttershy!” To reassure her, you move over to the sink full of the tea set dishes and roll up your sleeves, grabbing a dry towel and putting on a well-fitting apron. “If you wash the dishes and I dry them, we can get set up for tea in no time!”

“Okay. But only if you want to…” Fluttershy murmurs.

You give her a heartfelt smile. “It’s nothing, really. And having lunch after having to work for it just makes the lunch even better.”

Fluttershy puts on the hairnet again and moves over to your left to start rinsing out one teacup of a trio. “I don’t know. If your chest was really hurting so bad from being so hungry, you should probably avoid working or anything like that until I can get you something to eat,” she whispers. “I still feel really bad for all of… that, that just happened.”

You take a dry cloth to the dishes that were already hanging, getting them bone-dry in moments. “Awww, you’ve been completely fine, Fluttershy. If anything, I was the one who made things worse by, uh, being so dramatic about things. Whatever. Hey, if you wanna repay me, you could cook up some of that bacon I was smelling earlier,” you say hopefully.

Fluttershy giggles and gets to work on the very same bacon-greased plate that Hank was eating off of. “Oh, my. I forgot you ate meat. It’s just so difficult to think of you as anything but a stallion. Er, no offense…”

You snort. “I guess this means I’ve really integrated into pony society, huh?” You pick up a piece of hay from a dried plate and look at it. “Not that I would want to really stay here all my life. It’s too hard to come by a decent meal in Ponyville, not being able to eat grass or flowers off the street and all—I’m not gonna try to eat any more flowers, I promise,” you reassure Fluttershy when she glances sidelong at you with worry.

…But now that you think about it, what would the grass and hay here even taste like? Maybe it’s very nutritious and tasty, which is why all the ponies graze on it so often. Sneaking a quick glance out the window to see how edible the grass would be, your face again warms up in the sudden glow of spring sunbeams shining down on Fluttershy’s cottage.

You light up. “Fluttershy,” you ask her, “do you want to have a picnic outside instead of tea?”

She beams at you. “Oh, that would be wonderful! I was even planning to do some looking at nature later. Most of the diurnal migratory morning birds should be flying back to Ponyville today, and we can watch for them and catalog them—and sing with them!” she exclaims. “Er, that is, if you’re fine with it…”

You take the corners of a damp tea cozy and fold it along the middle. Its hanging curve roughly approximates the smile on your face on hearing that information. “I love that idea!” you gush. All the tea set dishes have been washed and dried. “You know what we could do today? It’s the same thing I do every morning, Flutters…”

“Um, ‘Try to take over the world’?”

You wheel around to Fluttershy, shocked. “What??” you ask.

“Oh, um, You said that one time at game night with the girls. I remember we were all pretty scared of you when you said that in a weird voice, and Rainbow Dash almost fought you over it like you really were going to try to take over Equestria.” She looks conflicted. “Oh, or was it that you said you try to take over the world every night?”

Damn, it’s been a long time since you’ve thought about Pinky and the Brain. Might be a good idea to write a play or a book or something about that for Equestria.

“That’s more of a human thing. Just a figure of speech, really. Anyway,” you pat your apron and untie it, “I was thinking more along the lines of looking for cool bugs after the picnic. Could you get the basket while I try to whip us up some sandwiches?”

“Ah, yeah, (y/n),” she excitedly whinnies as she trots away. You may have become more familiar with pony culture and the way the ponies look, but that will never not be adorable.

Fluttershy insists on carrying the picnic basket on her back, citing her worries at how having to carry it might hurt your fragile human back. This piece of business over with, the conversation level drops to the sweet bliss of nothingness, and the pair of you start on your journey through the forest.

The two of you are content to walk in silence along the path as you bask in the natural wiles around you. Fluttershy has a small smile on her face. You can’t help but grin a little at sharing company with a good friend of yours, just freely passing the time in another’s company without any obligations of having to partake in society or entertain other ponies with ostentatious parties. Here, it’s just you, Fluttershy, and the creatures of the Freedom Forest Valley nature trail.

However, after a minute, you start to get disturbed at how quiet it is out here. It’s not that the silence between you and Fluttershy was becoming awkward; if anything, it was soothing on your nerves and your head after having spent such a stretch of time as Rarity’s personal rubber duck to bounce ideas off of. It’s just that the silence between yourself and the critters of the forest was stretching on for long enough to be noticeable.

You frown and turn to your companion, stopping both of your advances. “Hey, Fluttershy?”

She turns to you in kind and frowns as well. “What is it, (y/n)?”

“Does it seem kind of… quiet outside, to you at all?”

She embarrassedly looks at the dirt path and paws at a branch of leaves under her hooves. “I thought you might notice. Most of the creatures of the forest have… gone somewhere else.” She sighs and mutters, “I just wish Discord didn’t decide to take them out of their natural environment for the show…”

Alarm bells start to ring in your head. You wholecloth forgot that he lived with Fluttershy until she brought him back up. But where is he, and what is he doing—what could he be doing away from Fluttershy’s watchful eye? “Discord?” you ask her.

“Oh, yes.” The two of you resume walking. “There’s an animal show happening in Fillydelphia right now. It’s an annual convention, and I just somehow forgot about it this year until it was too late to let the critters take a part in it. Oh, it’s just so wonderful every year!” She gushes, “It lets all the animals in the forest and around Ponyville present themselves to get awards while they network with others to find out what’s happening in everycreature’s lives and all around the world!”

“Hang on.” There’s a massive fallen tree obstructing the path. It wouldn’t be feasible to go around it, so you take the picnic basket from Fluttershy, put it on the other side, and carry Fluttershy with you as you vault it. “So you were too late to get any animals over there in time?”

Fluttershy jumps out of your arms and takes the picnic basket onto her back again. “Oh, yes. But Discord was kind enough to take them to the show in time with his teleportation magic. I did have to get him to Pinkie Promise not to take the animals that didn’t want to go, and to protect the animals that did go while making sure that they all made it back.” She spots something to the side of the trail and trots over to it, waving you over with a hoof.

“Wow,” you say unsurely as you veer off the path toward her. “Did he really take all the rabbits? All the chickens and wolves? Harry, too? Cuz if he took as many animals to Fillydelphia as I think he took, then he really must have brought down the house with them all.”

“Well, he didn’t take all the wolves, at least. Oh dear...” Worry dances through Fluttershy’s wingtips as she does a little steppy. “You don’t think he’s causing too much chaos over there?”

Discord’s a bit of a sore subject for you. “He probably is, in all honesty,” you tell her, and then reassure her by saying, “But I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t take it too far. Anyway, what did you want to show me?”

Fluttershy points at a mossy-bottomed rock with ferns growing on top of it in a cavity. “Look,” she says.

You look at the rock, which is about the same size as Fluttershy. You look back to Fluttershy. “It’s very pretty,” you say truthfully. “What is it?”

“It’s a rock,” Fluttershy says.

Damn, she’s good! “No, I mean, what’s up with it?”

Fluttershy perks up. “Oh! Right. This is an igneous shale rock, rich in minerals from being composed of magma and very amenable to being a habitat for microorganisms, nutritious fronds, and herbivorous crawlers to hole up in. Sorry, I just figured that if you wanted to see some insects, this would be as good a place as any to find some,” she explains while letting the basket down onto the ground.

Your eyes light up. “Nahhh, s’all good,” you tell her, “so how can we get a peek at some of them? Lift up the boulder?”

Fluttershy shakes her head. “Oh, no,” she says, “that would be rude. We can just knock on the rock and see who comes up to answer. I do it all the time when I have to wake them up for Winter Wrap-Up.”

“Really? Huh. I’ve never thought about that before.” You sit on the wet, grassy ground next to the boulder and give it a gentle tap with your knuckles, looking to Fluttershy for approval. She sits opposite you with picnic basket balanced evenly on her back and gives a big reassuring smile that turns into something softer but just as heartfelt and strikingly giddying as a huge earwig lopes out from under the mass of moss and grass attached to the boulder. 

“Woah!” you exclaim, startled by just how big it is. Forget the Saint Helena, this was an earwig roughly the length and width of your own hand, with its pincers being easily three inches long.

It lazily tilts its head up to stare at you. Fluttershy gently turns her own head to look at you so that she couldn’t possibly scare the earwig away. She’s still smiling, but it’s more subdued now. “Go on, talk to it. Its pincers are harmless; it won’t bite,” she entreaties you.

“Uh… okay.” You smile uncertainly at her and look at the earwig. It’s just staring back at you, antennae twitching around with unknown intent. In order to get closer to it and make it feel more comfortable, and also make yourself more comfortable with the strange thing you’re doing, you lay down on your stomach in front of it in the grass. “Uh, hello?” you ask the earwig nervously.

The earwig waves back at you, filling you with confidence. You continue, “Uh, well, we were just in the neighborhood and I wanted to introduce myself and check in with you, see if you were doing all right, you know… Is this your house?”

The earwig nods and walks forward until they’re right in front of your face. They look at you intently and extend a foreleg to boop your nose rapidly and repeatedly, startling you and making your nose tickle something fierce. “Uh?” you ask Fluttershy, eyes wide and moving to look to her for help with your head staying still to not harm the earwig.

“You’re doing great,” she giggles. “That’s just the way that earwigs greet other creatures,” she says, walking over and lying down to let the earwig poke her muzzle as an example. “See? He likes us.”

“Incredible!” You tell her and then turn to the earwig. “Here,” you say, proffering your finger to the earwig, “this is how humans greet each other. We shake hands—or appendages, in this case. My name’s (y/n). What’s yours?”

The earwig gets the message, and shakes your finger with their leg. However, they don’t say their name, making you feel pretty silly because you genuinely forgot that earwigs couldn’t talk for a solid moment there. Instead, they just turn their gaze to you as a faint hissing emanates from their body.

Fluttershy comes in with the assist again. “Oh, I can translate. She says her name is Light, and she’s asking where humans come from, since she’s never heard of them before, living under a rock and all.”

This is unbelievable! You’re actually talking to an earwig! An earwig called “Light”! The sun is shining pleasantly upon your body, the breeze plays in your hair, the grass is rustling underneath your fingers, soft and cool to the touch with a mild dampness, the ground underneath you is hardy and sturdy, tough and earthy, and real, and you, the human, are currently having a full, rounded conversation with an honest-to-god earwig.

Turning your head to Light, you then say, “I come from Earth! It’s a whole ‘nother planet entirely than this, with rules a lot different than you have here. Say,” you raise an eyebrow at her, which probably doesn’t track, “are you the only bug living here, or is there like a whole apartment full of insects under there?”

Light’s antennae flick around lazily and she retreats back under the rock for a moment, coming back with a few mewling and writhing grubs on her back. “Awww! She’s a mama!” you say to Fluttershy.

Fluttershy looks shocked. “Oh,” she whispers, “so sorry to disturb you, Ms. Light. We should probably get out of your antennae now; I know how rowdy the little earwigs can get when they’re about to turn into nymphs,” she continues in a conspiratoral tone, causing Light to nod sagely.

Light then comes up to you and again rapidly boops your nose. “Let me guess, an earwig goodbye?” you ask Fluttershy sidelong, and she nods slowly. “Awright. Bye, Light!” You wave goodbye at her with a finger and she waves back at you before turning to Fluttershy and booping her as well.

“Don’t be a stranger,” Fluttershy whispers out to Light. “Oh, wait, Ms. Light? Would you happen to know where we could find Pierre? Pierre the moth?”

Again the hissing from Light’s body, which this time gets cut off as one of the fat grubs flops over her face and Light runs over to the rock to contain them again.

“Thank you, Ms. Light!” Fluttershy softly calls after her. “Good luck with your budding nymphs!” And Light the earwig runs back home to her little wriggling grubs.

You get up off the ground and dust off the knees of your jeans, though nothing you do right now would be able to get the wetness off your clothing now. “What’d she say? Also, who’s Pierre? And why the heck would a moth be called Pierre?”

Fluttershy gets up and looks at you in confusion. At least she doesn’t have to worry about her clothes getting wet, since she doesn’t wear any most of the time. “Pierre is an absolutely gorgeous and friendly moth who loves getting visitors. Um, what’s wrong with the name ‘Pierre’?”

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just a bit… strange. Pierre’s like a human name, you know? Like a French name. Whatever, it’s not important,” you say, anxious to change the subject when Fluttershy still just looks at you confused. “Pierre sounds like a perfectly wonderful person—moth, and I’m sure I’d love to see ‘em,” you say. 

“Oh,” Fluttershy grins, “you will! But we better get going. Pierre doesn’t like to be kept waiting past noon. He’s very…” she tilts her head and gives a strange look, “...particular.” And off she goes with the basket, leaving you feeling even odder.

The vibrant red picnic basket on Fluttershy’s back catches your eye again and you instinctively take a deep breath of the early spring air, the faint scent of rain discernable among the scent of the trees, the leaves, and the morning dew. And, of course, the thick smell of bacon catches your nose from the picnic basket like it’s a pie in a cartoon, and you sigh in content.

Now walking alongside Fluttershy back to the path, you give her a tiny satisfied smile. “Hey, girl! Thanks for taking so much thought about where—like, for planning the whole bug-finding thing out. I was probably just gonna look under some logs or something,” you confess, rubbing the back of your neck. “Sorry about all the trouble.”

“Oh, don’t worry. It wasn’t any trouble, (y/n). I mean, I just love the insects of the woods, more than any other pony in Ponyville,” she meekly counter-confesses.

“Awww! You’re just precious, Fluttershy!” You pick up a dry yellow leaf off the ground and offer it to her. “Here, take this cool-looking leaf as a trophy for your pureness, madame.”

“Oh, um, thank you…” she mutters, hiding behind her mane. She takes the leaf from your hand in her mouth and eats it with a crunch. What? 

“Oh, sorry,” she says and smiles bashfully at you before giggling, “I just love the taste of leaves from the ailm tree! I forgot you might not be used to seeing someone eat one…” Huh.

A satisfied silence again falls upon the two of you as you just walk on, the Freedom Forest Valley trail again opening up to your sight and your fluttering heart. In your concern over the little things in life, the bugs, the plants, the upcoming picnic and migration of birds, you almost forgot about the woods and the wildness around you.

A breeze blows through you, pulling your hair and your clothes to the side. There are no birds chirping, which you still find quite unnerving, but you find that there is no end to the interesting things and junk you can see. The infinite complexity of even the smallest things astounds you: the glistening of the drops of dew on the grass and the flowers making the blushes around you glitter in the sunlight, the fractal beauty of the limbs of the tree and how the lightest of their twitches in the wind far exceeds any possible imagination or expectation, and, perhaps most stunning and satisfying of all, the roses and the lilies of the field.

Spring flowers are beginning to bloom, sporadically dotting the picture of the forest with vivid splashes of red, pink, and purple. They slowly grow in numbers as your steps advance, and the spots of their growth increase in size until, soon enough, they overtake the path entirely and you and Fluttershy have to slow your step to be able to find where it continues. You can hear the faint buzzing of insects as a nearby brackley marsh in a valley of its own comes into view. Fluttershy stops to smell a particularly vibrant rose and you take a moment to look for any butterflies around, but you can’t find any. Turning slightly to ask Fluttershy where they are, you lose your train of thought as you spot her taking a bite out of the rose. “C’est la vie de poney,” vous murmurez, and continue on in silence.

Trees stretch on as far as the eye can see. How far have you been walking, now? Your legs are kind of starting to feel tired as they hit against the bulbs of the many flowers. Taking a sidelong glance at Fluttershy, you can’t see any visible signs of exhaustion at all, though that could be due to the fluffy pony’s evolutionary traits. You have now reached the part of the forest where the thickness of the trees is beginning to block the sun with their overgrowth, but you can still see that the sun is… hm. It’s actually a bit hard to see where the sun is, as it’s now cloudy—was it cloudy just a moment ago? How the time flies.

In a momentary break of the cover, you see Celestia’s sun raised in the exact middle of the sky, but its beams don’t seem quite so hot or harsh anymore. Probably, Celestia wanted to take a nap today, if everything you know about her was correct.

While lost in your musings, you crash your noggin headlong into a HUGE fallen tree.

Next thing you know, Fluttershy’s in front of your eyes, gesticulating furiously. “Oh no, no, no! Quick! (y/n)! How many hooves am I holding up?”

“Uhhhhhh, four?”

“(Y/N)! We NEED to get you to a hospital…” she squeaks.

“Woah, woah, woah. I do not have a concussion! Fluttershy, I—Fluttershy!” you exclaim, when Fluttershy tries to hoist you up into the air with her foreleg. “Fluttershy. You are holding up four hooves.”

Fluttershy, who’s been hovering over you this whole time, takes a look at her flapping wings and falls to her flank in pure, unabashed, bashedness.

#fallen blogs #fluttershy

[evita-shelby]

I'm in a Eva High rn, Can I request Eva reminisce about her 1st Bf or her talking to his ghost and notice the similarity and the differences between them? Alternately you can have Izzy teasing her type of men.

Two birds with one stone, the next prompt was seashells

Gif doesn't apply but it has such an Izzy vibe as his fc is dario yazbek who plays julian in house of flowers

Gif by @jordan-catalano

Seashell

Diosdado gave her a silver seashell necklace he’d stolen from a gringa on the train he robbed the morning they met.

He was like Zorro, handsome and witty and had the most beautiful blue eyes she’d ever seen.

Eva believed it was love on first sight, especially when he came back from the raid injured and she was assigned to care for him.

“When the war is over, I’ll buy us a big, beautiful mansion in Tampico so you can stay by the sea.” He had proclaimed high on the marijuana they were using for pain relief.

But there was never going to be a seaside manor where they’d grow old together with the ten children they wanted to have.

Diosdado believed himself to be God’s gift to women, just as his name meant.

If it wasn’t Nena who did the washing, it was Chabela who did the cooking or even Mabel whose luxurious ranch they raided for food and ammunition her colonel husband had been hiding in New Mexico.

“I love you, brujita, they are just to pass the time when we’re apart.” He had said thinking his smiles and his affections were enough for her. But he said the same to all of them, she told him so.

Little did she know that she’d be selling the necklace he gave her to bury him two days after he broke her heart.

Tommy doesn’t know why she feels so depressed after he bought her a set of golden seashell jewelry while they had a holiday in New York. He assumed it was because they’re only here for a week or so and she hates being so far from her family.

“You have type ,you know.” Izzy ribbed her as he looked at her husband like one looks at something they’re going to buy. “You’ve always liked the dangerous, blue eyed güero types. Florence didn’t even need to tell us he was a blue eyed gangster when she told us you were married.”

“Toña has brown eyes,” Eva points out. So did most of the ladies she fell for. Except for Dalila the model who had the greyest eyes she’d ever seen ---as well as the most striking naked body she’d ever seen at thirteen.

“Your taste in men, Evita, all men you’ve fallen for have blue eyes, a thing for politics and a criminal record. Even Agustin Iturbide y Green , whom Tio would’ve gladly married you off to even if he was our distant cousin.” Izzy corrected her.

“Don’t remind me, the last thing I want to remember is how okay our family was with me having a crush on our fucking cousin.” Eva said embarrassed, praying Tommy never found out her family had exceptions in their no consanguinity rule.

#eva smith shelby #tommy shelby x oc #israel de souza

[babbushka]

Zannah!!! I got the job at the museum! My first day of orientation is on Thursday. I got to wander the museum after my interview and it’s a cute little place. They have a little train model, which frankly I would watch forever, and if there were a billion little kids in the area with the model I probably would have looked at it longer. And there is also a little science of hockey exhibit sponsored by my guys the LA Kings, so I’m excited about that too (I knew they sponsored and worked with the museum, just not that there was a section on them). Anyways, I hope you’re having a good week and weren’t affected too much by the snow that I saw hit up by you after having a nice weekend.

💜Alexa

Ahh I’m sorry I didn’t see this sooner! IM SO THRILLED!! This museum sounds so cool if I’m ever in LA i’ll have to stop by!

Oh my gosh the weather has been so typically spring-y, lol, snow and rain one day, 70 and sunny the next! The trees are getting their leaves again, and all the birds and bunnies and deer are back. I hope you’re having a great weekend!!!

#the past 2 weeks have been hellish because of a medical emergency in my immediate family #but things will be okay and i am grateful that good things are happening to my friends! #we all need a little good news ❤️

[julessworldd]

Hii, I was wondering if you could please do one with poly guns where she has her friends over and they gets jealous because they wanted a night in with her and the friends start taking the mick out of the whole relationship thing and it's a whole drama?

Sorry if that doesn't make sense

Hi anon! So sorry it’s late but life has been a little messy but atlas I’m writing this now :))

Warnings: arguing, jealousy, shitty friends, a little crying, implied smut(feel like that’s always a warning with my poly fics 🫠

I was finally home from another summer tour with the boys, one of their first headliner tours of their own. Gosh I was so proud of my babies! But it’s good to be home again, the pace of tour had finally died down. The boys were out tonight celebrating such a good tour and well deserved break. I told them to go have a guys night and I would be home with some girlfriends. Duff wanted to stay home with me, but Axl kissed me and drug big bird with him.

I love my boys, but I need my girl time and around my girlfriends to catch up, giggle and what not. It was the perfect opportunity to have them over! Evelyn, Blair, Jolene, and Heather were on their way over for a girls night with a movie i rented. We probably won’t watch it with our gossip but it was good for back ground noise. The door bell rang, “Coming!” I swung the door open, to see Evelyn and Joey standing together smiling. “Hi, ugh I’ve missed you guys!”, I hugged them before leading them inside. “Blair and Heather should be here anytime, make yourselves at home”, I smiled. “Wow! Have you guys redecorated?”, Jolene asked. “Yeah Axl and I changed something around. He ordered some painting that’s coming soon.”, I replied.

Blair and Heather showed with extra wine and we were a half a bottle down. “Gosh, you guys would love Paris! Especially at night, the lights were so gorgeous”, I giggled. “We’re broke and don’t have a rich boyfriend, Y/n”, Evelyn scoffed. “Your daddy is rich, Evie”, Heather giggled. It was true, Evelyn’s father was VP of a huge modeling agency, that was exploding big time. Guess daddy is mad and cut her off again. Evelyn rolled her eyes and drank more of her wine, “So Y/n, did you ever get your room done?” “Yeah but I don’t sleep in there, really just storage at this point”, I said, bringing my legs to my chest in the recliner. “Why?”, Evie smirked. “I just sleep with the boys at night. Got used to sleeping with some next to me I guess”, I shrugged. Blair and Heather were looking at Evelyn, seeing what she is would spit next.

Jolene smirked, but kept quiet beside the “secret glances” at Evie. Those bitches are planning something. “Any other places you liked this time, Y/n?” Heather asked. “Germany was kinda cool”, I sighed. Wishing the boys would roll in soon, discovering two of your friends were fake and just using your “clout” was heartbreaking. I held Evelyn multiple times while she cried over her crazy ex fiancé and kept her hidden from him. Jolene and I were roommates before I met the boys, we struggled and scrapped by together forever. “I’ll be back”, I said walking towards Duffs room. Finding their favorite bar’s number I called the bar.

“Hello?!”

“Hi I was wondering if Duff Mckagan was still there? It’s his girlfriend”

“Y/n?”

“Yes, hi Brent”

“Thanks Brent! Hey baby!”, Duff giggled. “When are you guys coming home?” “Uh I’m not sure. Are you okay?” “No, Evelyn and Jolene are ganging up on me. I know I’m 24 but it still hurts my feelings. I mean Joey and I crawled thru the trenches together, now she is besties with Evelyn. Fuck”, I started to cry. “Awh baby, I’m sorry! Fuck em, tell ‘em to get the hell out. We’re leaving now okay?” “Okay, I love you Duffy”. “I love you too, Princess!”

There was a knock, “I’m coming, don’t worry”

Heather walked in, “Hey” “Hey” “I’m sorry about Eve and Joey, I don’t know what their deal is”, Heather sighed. “I don’t know either, Evelyn is just a two faced cunt, I mean we all know that. Jealous too. But Joey, I don’t get”, I shook my head. “I know I’m shocked at her for that” “Is Blair still here?” I asked. “Yeah” I walked downstairs again to the girls. “Hey Evie?” “Yeah?” She smiled. “Why are you being such a cunt tonight? More than usual” I asked. Evelyn laughed, “I’m not. Why do you say that?”

“Well, you keep making rude comments about my boyfriends. Then you look over to Jolene and smirk like you guys are planning to gossip about me after y’all leave. Which I don’t give a fuck what you think or Jolene thinks as well”. “Did Heather tell you? She always runs after you, beginning to think she is a Les” Evelyn smirked. “Shut up! Heather didn’t do anything but check on me. Because she is a good friend unlike you and Jolene who act like we are in fucking junior high again. So why don’t you two get the fuck out of my house!” I got in her face.

“You bitch! You’re such a fucking crybaby, you know that? Surprised you haven’t got pregnant by one of them. Hell you wouldn’t be able to tell whose the daddy”, Evelyn laughed. Out of the corner of my eye I seen Izzy and Slash standing beside Jolene. “Says the one who cried and beg me to go with her to her abortion appointment. You got piss drunk and couldn’t remember her own god damn name. Much less the baby daddy, at least I could name mine. So I’m gonna say this again. Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. House! Take your little fake ass dog with you too!” I spit. I pushed Jolene out of the chair, grabbed Evelyn’s hair dragging her with me. “Owww! Let go you bitch!” I slammed her into the wall, “Opps!” Duff, Steven, Axl were outside smoking. “Hey baby!” Duff said, dropping his cigarette out of his mouth. I drug Evelyn into the yard. “Come here, dumb bitch!”, I grabbed her leg as she tried to crawl away. I punched her face twice, broke her nose. “Go cry to your daddy about your trust fund, you little bitch! If you report me, I’ll come really give something to cry about. Fuck you, two faced cunt! Hey Jolene get the fuck off my property, fucking traitor!” Evelyn and Jolene got into the car and left.

“What the fuck?”, Izzy said. “Bitches got what they deserve”, Heather said. Axl touched my arm, pulling me out of my mind. “You okay baby? She didn’t hurt you did she?” “Oh no, didn’t get the chance to touch me” “What happened for you drag them out like that?”, Slash. “She was being rude about you guys, I took care of it”, I replied, shaking a little. “Sorry girls, didn’t mean for the night to end like this”, I looked at them, smiling. Blair laughed, “It’s okay, I got wine and a free show. You still got it!” “Those bitches deserve it anyway, I’m sorry they got under your skin”, Blair came and hugged me. “It’s okay, i still got you and Heather. Wanna finish the movie?” “Maybe next time, I gotta get up early” Blair said. “Sounds good! Feel like my head is gonna pop” I giggled. “Come by work if you feel worse, okay?” Blair said. “Yes nurse Blair”, I rolled my eyes. “Love ya, Y/n. You fucked her nose job, nice one!”, Heather smirked, pulling me into a hug. “Haha yeah I did! Love you too. You guys be careful!”

“Duff, you’re gonna burn a hole in your pants”, I sighed, looking at him. Mouth still hanging up, cigarette laying on his leather clad thigh. “Didn’t know you could fight” “I got 4 older brothers, what ya expect?”, I kissed him.

#duff mckagan #izzy stradlin #guns n roses #slash #axl rose #steven adler #polyguns #kinda turned into the Maddie/Cassie fight lol sorry

[xxiamtiebrousxx]

Chapter 5 "Morning Dew" ( The Medizin| Medic x Reader)

A/n: I have about thirteen drawn pieces of art that have medic, but I'm a lazy bum. Give me at least three comments on this chapter and I'll post my own art. 

The morning sun rose as the remains of the gray clouds drifted away. Morning dew rested on the green lawn. The other eight mercenaries were already up, making breakfast. Only one member was missing.

“Ugh, my back.” The sore, tired doctor stood up from the ground, rubbing his spine. Y/n was still sleeping. At least she was calm and peaceful. She was sprawled out on the bed, her limbs dangling over the edge. It seemed that Ludwig had been kicked off in a fight for the covers, which dangled over the bed. Y/n had been victorious. The doctor stood up, tucking his Täubchen back in bed, properly. He picked up his book that fell to the floor. 

“Mhm, Ludwig, is that you?” Y/n asked, slowly opening her eyes. His touch had awakened the model. Ludwig smiled.

“Ja,” he replied. “Are jou awake?”

“Yeah, I’m up,” she answered. She yawned, stretching. She cuddled up in the covers as the morning light streamed into the room. Y/n groaned. “I don’t want to get up,” she whined. Ludwig softly chuckled.

“I’ll bring jou some breakfast,” he said. ”Okay Täubchen?” 

“Sure,” Y/n said, turning on her side. “Tell the guys I said good morning.”

“Of course.” The men greeted their medic as he entered the kitchen. Spy and Engineer were busy flipping omelets while the Scout attempted to make ovaltine smoothies. Heavy made sandwiches from bologna to bacon. Pyro was watching T.V with Engineer, who was snoring softly. Demoman had gone off to buy groceries.

“Would doktor have cheese with his sandvich?” 

“Ja.” 

“Mmph mmph mmmmph (Hey doc, can ya come here)?” Pyro called out from the living room. “Mmph (you don’t wanna miss this).” The doctor walked into the living room but whatever Pyro was watching was gone. The weatherman was now talking about the forecast in Teufort. The flame lover groaned sadly. “Mmph mmph mmmppphh (Sorry doc, you missed it).” 

“Zhat’s okay,” Ludwig replied. “Next time, keep an eye out for it.” Pyro mumbled happily and changed the channel. Heavy came out of the kitchen, holding a tray.

“For leetle girl,” he said.

“Danke mein freund,” Ludwig answered, taking the tray. “Täubchen will appreciate this. By the way, she says good morning to all of jou.”

“Tell her ditto!” Scout called from the kitchen. The doctor returned to Y/n’s room, which Archimedes had managed to enter.

“Hiya Ludwig!” Y/n was propped up against the pillow, reading Ludwig’s book. “No worries, I made a bookmark to mark your page. Mine’s right here.” She held up a paper. It was cut thin, drawn completely f/c. An umbrella was drawn in the center, colored in with a darker shade of f/c. On the corners, four birds were drawn, with Medic’s symbols underneath them.

“Täubchen, jou made this jourself?” the doctor asked. Ludwig handed Y/n her tray as she nodded. She grabbed the fork and cut the omelet.  “May I see mine?” 

“Sure.” Y/n put the clean napkin in between the pages Ludwig left off and grabbed the bookmark. His was decorated with medical symbols and the red cross he wore on his uniform.

“Ah, Y/n, it’s nice,” he said. He joined her on the bed, crossing his legs. “Where did jou get the supplies?”

“I asked your bird to get it for me,” Y/n replied. “I hope Pyro doesn’t mind me borrowing his stuff.” Ludwig chuckled.

“I’m surprised Archimedes could listen to jou,” he said. “He’s such a dummkopf sometimes.” Y/n petted the feathers of the bird, who rested on her shoulder. Archimedes sadly chirped, as if he could understand what his owner said.

“Don’t listen to the mean, old Ludwig,” she cooed. “He’s just grumpy.” The doctor laughed.

“Aheh, I’m sorry Archimedes,” he said. The dove cooed and flew onto Ludwig’s shoulder.

“Hey, after breakfast, wanna take a walk?” Y/n asked, taking a bite out of her food. “Heard it’s good for the heart.”

“It’s true, Täubchen,” Ludwig said. “Studies from my patients prove it!” Y/n swallowed her food, smiling widely.

“Then let’s do it!” she happily exclaimed.

“Let me just get dressed and ready,” he replied, getting up. “No one wants to see people in their pajamas. I’ll come pick jou up in a while, Täubchen.” The doctor disappeared to get dressed. He put on a cream colored under his white, collared shirt. He wore the same brown pants he would wear into battle. Same with the boots. The black leather donned his feet.

Y/n also got dressed. She just wore the same clothes from yesterday. They were still clean. After getting dressed, she brushed out and pulled back her hair, then continued to eat her breakfast.

There was a knock on the door as Ludwig returned.

“Täubchen? I’m back.” He opened the door. Y/n was finished cleaning up the plate. Her face was stuffed and made her look like a cute hamster, which melted the doctor’s heart. 

“I’m almost done,” she said, swallowing her food.

“Täubchen, jou’ve already wiped the plate clean!” Ludwig exclaimed, smiling. Y/n was quite hungry.

“I guess I wanted more,” she replied. “Oh well, I’ll have to wait for lunch then.” The doctor smiled.

“I’m cooking for lunch,” he said. “Jou’ll love it.” Y/n smiled.

“Can’t wait then,” she answered. She stood up from the bed and slipped on her shoes. “Ready for the walk?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” The two walked downstairs, hand in hand. They told the others what they were doing and gained approval from Spy. The doctor led Y/n to the outskirts of the base, where the grass really was greener on the other side. “Jou’re going to love this Täubchen,” Ludwig said.

The morning dew gave the grass a shiny coat. The garden had a variety of flowers, all different colors and shapes. The flowers and fresh grass had a delicious fragrance that was irresistible. Birds chirped and sang songs as they flew around in the trees. The sun added to the atmosphere, giving the area a warm temperature that was just perfect.

Y/n gasped, smiling.

“Ludwig, it’s beautiful!” she exclaimed. “This place, it’s amazing!!!”

“I’m glad jou love it,” he replied. “It reminds me of jou, so beautiful.” Y/n blushed.

“Well, I think it’s perfect,” she said. “Just like you.” The doctor chuckled.

“No one’s perfect.” Y/n smiled and kissed Ludwig on the cheek. 

“Well, I think so,” she said with a smile.

#Romance #3rd Person Point Of View #Medic X Reader #Tf2 X Reader #X Reader #Storms #Fanfiction #Tf2 Medic X Reader #long post #Tf2 #Team Fortress 2