#the casting in charge saw the vision

[shuotaizawa]

the VAs for kamitani and ryuuichi from gakuen babysitters also voice the main pair in my boss is goofy… i am Tickled

#same pairing different font pls 😭 #i giggled #the casting in charge saw the vision #my boss is goofy #shirosaki yuusei #momose kentarou #gakuen babysitters #kamitani hayato #kashima ryuuichi

[celeryb1tch]

how you and spencer meet!

receptionist!reader starts a new job at the BAU, and a very handsome coworker shows her around!

content: meet cute, fem!reader, pov you’re an idiot who’s sensitive to blood, fainting for the plot and not in the way it works in real life lol, confident-ish but pretty canon compliant mid-seasons spencer!

—

the FBI certainly isn’t the place for squeamish little pansies…

at least, that’s what you were told in your interview. and you had nodded diligently, ignoring the lump in your throat as you thought about how you almost fainted the last time you had bloodwork done. but as a secretary, how bad could it get, right? you tried to assure yourself of this when you got the job offer.

on a brisk friday morning, you were wandering through the FBI Academy campus in an attempt to find your office. everyone around you seemed to be in a hurry, and no one had given you the time of day when you attempted to ask for directions. so fifteen minutes before your first day started, opposed to the promised half hour, you entered the NSAVC building with your tail between your legs.

the bullpen was empty. you had expected to be met by a trainer, or perhaps the person whose job you would be taking over, but you instead faced a grouping of empty desks. as you peered around the open area, your eyes landed on a conference room with large windows, allowing you to see a group of agents. with a sigh of relief, you headed up the stairs and knocked on the door lightly before letting yourself in.

before you was a circular table seating five people, all with their eyes trained directly on you. “hi!” you chirped. “i was looking for-“

“i think you’re lost, miss. students shouldn’t be allowed access into this department,” demanded a man in a full suit, who seemed to be in charge.

your smile faded as you saw the various displeased faces looking back at you. “oh no, i’m not…” in an attempt to avoid eye contact, you raised your sight to the opposite wall, projector casting images of open wounds and a dismembered corpse. and in only a second, your vision was going black.

—

the white of fluorescent bulbs seared even through to the inside of your eyelids, but despite this you still blinked a few times to shake the disorientation and open your eyes.

your legs were eased up in the air with a chair, brand new pencil skirt hiked slightly up your thighs. you felt the texture of carpet against your back through your blouse and the cool of ice on your forehead. your first instinct was to sit up and reorient yourself, which you tried to no avail.

“hey, hey, easy,” an unidentifiable voice said soothingly. you scanned your surroundings, finding a man with chin length chestnut hair in your periphery who couldn’t be much older than you. he was crouched beside you, apple juice box in hand and concern in his eyes. god, his eyes were pretty, you thought. like pools of dappled sunlight.

it took you a few seconds to recognize him as one of the displeased members of the conference room, and the previous events rushed back to you, bringing a flush to your cheeks. “i am so sorry, sir. um, agent. detective? there was a misunderstanding, and that was so unprofessional of me.”

he had a small smile playing on his lips as he scanned your face. he seemed to be entertained by the fact that you were so flustered, letting you finish rambling before he replied. “doctor spencer reid, and no worries at all. a freeze response to gore is a fairly common reaction. while you were unconscious we were able to identify you as the new front desk secretary, we thought you were starting next week so we weren’t expecting anyone.”

you visibly relaxed at his explanation. it seemed possible that you wouldn’t be fired on the spot for this. you took the hand he outstretched to you, helping you up from the ground slowly. he offered you the juice box, to which you shook your head. “i’m okay, but thank you.”

“i would recommend it. after fainting it’s likely that your blood sugar is low, and fruit juice is packed with natural sugars that will allow you to feel better almost immediately.”

“doctor’s orders, huh?” you joked, to which he cracked a smile again.

“i’m not exactly that kind of doctor. but yes, i do strongly advise it.”

so you took the juice box, and spencer walked you down the few steps from the office you’d been laying in toward the bullpen. suddenly you were filled with anxiety once again as the faces you had seen minutes ago holding inconvenienced stares now looked on with concern.

the man from before who was so clearly the leader of this operation approached, offering a hand to shake. “supervisory special agent aaron hotchner, i apologize for the misunderstanding.”

you winced away from him slightly, worried that any further mistake would result in you losing the position you had yet to start. “thank you, sir. i am so sorry for interrupting a meeting like that, and fainting. that wasn’t exactly the first impression i wanted.”

he had an easy smile, that of a reassuring father. “i can assure you that no punitive action will be taken, if that’s what you’re concerned about. if we knew you were coming today we would not have left graphic case evidence up on the screen.”

oh, thank god. you exhaled deeply, feeling the tightness in your chest subside. you stepped back toward spencer, whose gaze had never left you. “what should i be doing now? i was never informed of what my training would be, not to mention where my desk is.”

“linda’s out sick today, which is why we thought you weren’t coming until monday,” said the woman sat in the desk rightmost of you. her hair was pure black, with straight, blunt bangs that suited her well.

“we don’t exactly have training for you today without your predecessor here, so i thought you could shadow my agents to familiarize yourself with the office. and i’m happy to show you to your desk, but since you’ll mostly be seeing our faces daily, we should get introductions out of the way first,” agent hotchner said.

you glanced at spencer beside you almost unconsciously, in search of reassurance. despite knowing him for about three minutes, he was the closest thing you had to a friend or ally so far. and seeming to sense this, he shot you a smile that crinkled the edges of his eyes. you felt your anxiety melt a little, and you realized that everything was going to be okay.

—

by lunchtime, you had your things at your desk and nothing to do without a computer login or training. you remembered that hotchner had suggested shadowing someone, but the idea of asking one of the agents made your stomach churn. they sat only a dozen feet away from you, laughing and bantering as if they’d known each other all their lives. who were you to butt into their dynamic? so you sat twiddling your thumbs for the rest of the lunch hour, peeking at the group occasionally to confirm that you hadn’t spontaneously gained the confidence to approach.

spencer specifically appeared to be deep in thought once he got back to work. you thought that it would be best to shadow him if possible, given you were most familiar with the tall brunette, but you really had no business to interrupt his work. still, you worked up the courage to advance to his desk.

“would you like some more coffee, dr. reid? i could go get some for you, you seem pretty busy,” you offered in an attempt at nonchalance. but uncertainty and regret crept up quickly when you received no reply.

emily prentiss, the previously unnamed woman with dark hair, noticed the interaction. with a slight grin on her lips, she interjected. “don’t take it personally. he gets so into his case readings, it’s hard for him to pick up on anything else.”

“hey, pretty boy,” cooed derek morgan from another desk. “someone’s trying to talk to you.”

spencer lifted his head reluctantly, eyes following a moment later. he looked dazed, not quite focused on anything in particular. “sorry, what?”

“i noticed your coffee was almost empty, would you like some more?” you asked meakly. it took everything in you not to run and hide of embarrassment.

he finally registered the question, shaking his head fervently. “no, i couldn’t ask you to do that. i’m perfectly capable of refilling my own coffee, but while i do i could show you the kitchenette? it’s crucial to the operation of the office.”

and with a nod, the two of you headed to the tiny kitchen adjacent to the bullpen. you stood slightly out of the way as spencer placed his mug on the counter, refilling the drip coffee maker for a fresh batch. you watched him card his fingers through his hair, looking around casually.

“so, the kitchen is important why?” you inquired, head tilting slightly to emphasize your interest.

spencer finally met your eyes again, letting out a little breezy laugh. “oh, it’s not. i noticed that you were having trouble potentially asking one of us to show you around, so i thought this was an opportune moment.”

you flushed slightly at the confession, apparently caught red-handed in your effort. “wow, you’re pretty good at reading people. or was i just that transparent?”

“is that a joke?” his eyebrows knotted as he looked at you, no air of humour on his face.

you stared back, equally confused. “am i supposed to know that? do you have a particularly well known judgement of character?”

“well yes, you’re in the behavioural analysis unit.”

and with that, you were sure that you had damaged your ego and reputation in this job position irrevocably.

—

after a brief explanation of the lack of background information provided when accepting the job, spencer assured you that he wouldn’t tell the others. he expressed his surprise that the FBI hadn’t been as diligent as they usually are, and you had to agree.

“i mean, i told them that this was my first job after graduation. i was doing my field placement two months ago, and that was in a law firm!” you stifled a giggle, feeling at ease leaning against the kitchen counter with spencer taking occasional sips of his coffee.

“that’s astounding. they hired me young, but i’d argue that i was overqualified for the position,” he admitted. “you, however…”

you gasped in feigned offence, rolling your eyes. “hey, i learned a lot in that law office! i can photocopy anything you need me to, and schedule dry cleaning for same-day pickup.”

it had been well over a half hour at this point, with you and spencer getting gradually closer until your clothed elbow rubbed against his. no one else had come in, until mid-reply spencer was greeted by agent aaron hotchner himself, who happened to also need a fresh cup of coffee.

“reid, i see that you’ve taken it upon yourself to let our new team member shadow you. but maybe you should show her some places other than the coffee counter?” he suggested with a raised eyebrow.

spencer looked caught, eyes flitting from you to his boss. your boss too, you supposed. “of course. sorry hotch, we got a little caught up.”

“i can see that. as long as you get your files finished by end-of-day, it’s really none of my business.”

“yes, sir,” spencer yelped. he gestured rapidly for you to follow him, exiting the kitchen to return to his desk.

you watched him put his mug down and shuffle some papers around before his eyes lit up in recognition. “i actually do need you to photocopy this for me,” he admitted shyly.

“of course!” you replied, just before your smile dropped. “you actually never showed me where the copier is.”

spencer chuckled with you, getting up from his chair once again. “no problem, i’ll show you.”

and as the two of you began walking down the hallway together, the others laughed upon hearing, “by the way, would you like to go for dinner with me once we clock out? i have a lot more to tell you.”

derek grinned. “i didn’t know that kid had the balls.”

—

(hi guys!! thank you for all of the love on my first spencer post!! i’m having so much fun writing these! psa tho: as i said before, i’m a lesbian i just have a weird thing for this one particular fictional man- so if u follow me, pls expect woman-centred content mostly!!)

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #molly’s!

[nyrandrea]

Yo! Not sure if you are accepting requests for Astarion x Reader and what not but if you are, here me out; it's known that it is possible for Astarion to be kidnapped by Cazador when you are fighting at the Inn. So what about if this happened and, to try and further break him and just be a total twat, Cazador sets it up that it seems the reader/Tav has come to save Astarion only to reveal that it was all a charade to break him and drag him to the ritual (could be a shape changer of succubus, whatever you like). Astarion is utter broken, THEN the real Tav comes charging in, tearing apart everything in their way to save Astarion. We have utter angst followed by utter fluff!

Ooh I very much liked this prompt as I've never written from Astarion's POV before so I hope it comes across alright!

TW for kidnapping and slight emotional manipulation

Word Count - 2.5k

Enjoy!

xxx

Astarion shifted his shoulders side-to-side while splaying his fingers, both done in attempt to free himself of the rope binding his wrists. 

As he was ushered, his heavy breaths were muffled against the cloth that had been tied around his neck. As it obscured most of his vision, he couldn’t see a damn thing, but he knew exactly where his kidnappers—his so-called ‘brother’ and ‘sister’—were taking him. 

Back to his old master. 

Astarion had tried to fight the spawn – Gods know he did – despite knowing it was futile. His friends had tried to save him, you had tried so, so hard – he remembers the way you desperately crawled to him, weakly calling out his name before he was dragged away. 

When fighting was clearly no use, he tried to convince them just to discuss their options, that surely they could figure out a way to work together to defeat Cazador, but it was all for naught. They thought he deserved this, and, in a way, so did he. 

The longer they travelled, the more his struggles eased. 

Even with the bag over his head, Astarion could tell when they reached the Szarr palace. The air within was thick with the musty scent of centuries past, a haunting aroma that seemed to seep from the very walls themselves. 

Dimly flickering torches lined the uneven, moss-covered bricks, casting feeble, wavering shadows that danced with eerie grace. The stones, slick with moisture, whispered secrets to those who dared listen, their ancient whispers a chilling backdrop to the silence. The floor, uneven and cold, was a mosaic of cracked tiles, their patterns lost to centuries of neglect. Puddles of stagnant water collected in the lowest recesses, reflecting the dim torchlight like dark, unblinking eyes. 

“I’m... sorry that it had to come to this,” Leon said. His voice was monotone, making his words sound like a cheap, hollow excuse. 

“No, you’re not,” Astarion bluntly replied. “Whatever master wants, master gets. Just a shame we all must get slaughtered in the process, hm?” 

Silence was his answer.  

Astarion flinched as a door creaked open and a familiar stink filled his nostrils – Leon had brought him to the ‘Kennel’, where he had spent tendays being tortured by Cazador’s cruel and sadistic servant Godey – a vile creature that often haunted his nightmares. 

The cloth covering Astarion’s head was ripped off and he was forced to gaze at that familiar, hideous skull. 

“If it isn’t the nasty little runaway!” Godey all-too-cheerily announced. “Ah, but you always find your way back to Godey, hmm?” 

Astarion grimaced. 

“If I had my way, I’d saw off your legs - that’d put a stop to your wandering.” 

“As pleasant as that sounds, I’m guessing the master said no?” Astarion said with a little smirk; a mask to hide his fear. “After all, I’m sure he needs all of my blood on the inside for the Mass.” 

“But he needs you obedient too,” Godey growled. “And I should cut out that tongue of yours for a start.” 

The skeleton brushed his fingertips on the hilt of his dagger, as if he was considering it for a moment. 

“That means no barking, no biting, no struggling – a well-behaved little doggie.” 

“I’ll never do what he tells me again,” Astarion sneered. “I’d rather die.” 

“Oh, you’ll do both! You will do whatever he requires, and if you’re delusional enough to think any of your little friends will come and save you, well...” 

As if on cue, the doors swung open behind Godey to reveal... you.  

Astarion's eyes met yours, and a torrent of emotions surged through him. His lifeless heart almost fluttered as you bypassed Godey and approached him, a mix of apprehension and joy welling up inside. 

Your eyes brimmed with tears as you rushed towards him. 

“Astarion, my love...!” you whispered. “I’ve come to save you; I couldn’t bear to be apart from you any longer.” 

Astarion extended his arms to embrace you. Your touch felt warm and comforting, and it held him in an embrace that seemed so familiar. 

For a moment, he was overcome with joy, believing he had another chance at freedom, that both of you could take down Godey and escape from this wretched place. But as seconds passed, something felt amiss. Your eyes were colder, your words more hollow, and a chilling unease settled in his bones. 

“I missed you so much,” you continued, your voice wavering with a hint of deception. 

But Astarion noticed the subtle differences in your gestures and expressions, even the way you spoke was... off. He pushed you away and stared into your eyes, searching for the truth. 

“Who are you?” He demanded, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and heartbreak.  

‘Your’ facade began to crumble. In a flash of darkness, there was a revelation of a true, grotesque form. Its face twisted and contorted into a nightmarish amalgamation of shapes and shadows. 

 It was a shapeshifter, a creature of dark magic, cunningly disguised as you. 

Astarion recoiled, his heart shattering into a million pieces. He realised the cruel trick that had been played on him, his eyes glistening with tears.  

“A gift from the master,” Godey said all too smugly. “To remind you that you are not worth saving.” 

The shapeshifter, grinning wickedly, vanished into the night, leaving Astarion alone in the darkness, his heart aching with betrayal and sorrow.  

“Now,” Godey said, approaching him with a chain. “Be a good little mutt and tie this around your neck, it is time to accept the fate that has been chosen for you.” 

The chains felt so heavy in Astarion’s hands that he merely let them slip and pile onto the floor with a heavy clang. He just felt so tired. Of running away, of daring to have hope, of falling in love, only to have it ripped away. Existence was... nothing but a cruel joke. 

And Cazador was the one laughing at him. 

Godey snarled as he bent to pick the chains up and thrust them back into Astarion’s arms. “Do not disobey! Or do I have to get the knee-splitter out for old time’s sake?” 

The vampire wordlessly submitted and allowed himself to be led out of the Kennel and into the corridors of the dungeon. 

A heavy, suffocating atmosphere hung in the air, as if the crypt itself held its breath, waiting for something unseen to stir in the shadows. It was a place where the echoes of the past whispered of forgotten sorrows and ancient curses, a realm where the line between the living and the dead blurred into obscurity. 

"Astarion...!" a distant voice cried, slicing through the dungeon's oppressive silence. Determined footsteps reverberated against the cold, stone floor, the sound of clanking armour ringing in the eerie stillness. 

Godey paused, appearing confused. “What...? Can’t be the shapeshifter again...” 

The footsteps edged ever closer, and Godey turned to face these unexpected intruders, forcing Astarion to turn with him.  

Gale, Karlach, Shadowheart and... you were rushing down the hallway. As you approached them, the ancient stone walls seemed to tremble in anticipation. 

The groups’ menacing sneers faded into incredulous expressions at the scene before them, and an overwhelming shame punched Astarion in the gut at having them see him so... vulnerable. Humiliated. 

They reached for their weapons, but your eyes met Astarion’s with a fiery, unyielding gaze. Your face was bloodied, and lips curled as you snarled like a feral animal – a far cry from the innocent but fake show that the shapeshifter had put on only moments before. 

“Let him go!” you demand, your grip tightening on your sword, its blade gleaming with an ethereal light. 

Godey flinched back, obviously surprised. 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, the master needs him,” the skeleton said. “Leave this place and he may grant you enough mercy to let you live.” 

“Afraid we can’t do that, bones,” Karlach snarled before turning to you. “Can we please just kill this thing and get our friend out of here?” 

“Friend?” Godey scoffed. “This dog doesn’t have friends. Now leave!” 

You meet Karlach’s furious gaze, and nod. 

"Get back, Astarion!" she hissed, and in a dazzling display of athletics and brute strength, brought down her mace upon Godey, his skull splitting with a sickening crack. 

Gale summoned bolts of lightning to dance around him. The damp air crackled with electricity, illuminating the dungeon in an otherworldly glow. All it took was one bolt to strike Godey down until he was nothing more than a pile of dust. 

Your eyes remained locked on Astarion as Shadowheart raised her hand, and the shackles that bound him burst apart with a resounding snap. He stumbled slightly; disbelief etched across his face. 

“Oh, thank Gods we found you in time,” you sigh in relief as you approach him. “Are you hurt?” 

He said nothing. Just... stared at you. 

“Can you walk?” you tried, holding out a hand to touch his shoulder. “We need to get you out of here.” 

“Don’t touch me!” he winced back, and you instantly retracted your hand. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, backing up to give him space. “What’s wrong? What can I do to help you?” 

Astarion’s scepticism waned a little; this version of you was a lot more... convincing than the last one. The way your eyes crinkled in distress, those little twitches your fingers did when you were nervous, even your scent was... almost enough to convince him you were the real deal. 

Yet, doubt clawed at the edges of his mind like a persistent, haunting whisper. 

"You can't be real," Astarion whispered, his voice laced with a soft tremor. 

Your eyes welled with frustration and hurt, but your voice remained gentle as you replied, "Astarion, I am as real as the air we’re breathing and the ground we stand on. I'm right here." 

Astarion shook his head, his disbelief lingering like a stubborn fog.  

"No, this isn't possible," he insisted, his voice rising. "This is another trick, isn’t it?” 

“Trick?” Karlach tilted her head. 

“Cazador sent you,” Astarion said, his shoulders shaking as he chuckled in disbelief, almost hysterically. “Not one shapeshifter, but five? I mean where... where did he even manage to find you all?” 

“Not how I would thank my rescuers, but each to their own, I suppose” Shadowheart said incredulously. “We need to leave, unless you fancy waiting for the cavalry to arrive.” 

Karlach bumped the cleric’s shoulder. “Just give him a moment, yeah? He’s obviously a bit... confused.” 

“Oh, it’s all as clear as day to me, darling,” the vampire spat, making her flinch. “Put on the act as much as you want, but I will not be going anywhere with you.” 

He glanced down at the dust pile beneath his feet and gave it a good kick. “Though I suppose I should thank you for getting rid of him, nasty little thing.” 

“That was... Godey, right?” you tentatively asked, and his red eyes flashed back up as you slowly edged forward. “I remember you telling me about him, that night we spent near the underground lake, do you remember? We stared up at the rocks and pretended to point out constellations.” 

“How on earth could you... know that?” 

When you were close enough, he reached out tentatively, his trembling fingers brushing against your cheek. The warmth he felt was real, but his mind refused to surrender. “You can’t be real,” he repeated, his voice a whisper and laden with desperation. 

Part of you wanted to use the tadpole to reach into his mind to convince him you were real, and it would have been the quicker option. But you couldn’t—wouldn't— invade his privacy like that. 

A whirlwind of emotions tore through Astarion—love, hope, fear, and an overwhelming sense of longing. He wanted desperately to believe you, to pull you into his arms and never let go. Yet, the scars of his master that etched deep into his soul held him back. 

You reached out and gently took Astarion's hands, placing them on your chest, your touch warm and reassuring. "I understand your fear, but you have to trust in us. Trust in the way my heart skips a beat when I look at you. I am real, Astarion. Our love is real." 

Tears welled up in his eyes as he finally allowed himself to believe. With a trembling hand, he cupped your face, his thumb wiping away a tear that had escaped your eye. “It’s really you,” he breathed, a mixture of awe and relief in his voice. 

You leaned into his hand. “It’s really me.” 

“As much as I would love to recite the perfect poem to encapsulate this heartwarming reunion,” Gale said, putting a hand on both your shoulder and Astarions. “I do believe we should make tracks.” 

Astarion didn’t even have it in him to make any quips or comebacks, so he merely nodded, allowing you to take his hand as you led the way. 

With renewed determination, the group made their escape, leaving a trail of chaos in their wake. Fire and lightning clashed with steel, and the dungeon's oppressive darkness was pierced by their resolute will. Together, they left a burning path of retribution in their wake, until they emerged into the moonlit courtyard and didn’t stop until they made it all the way back to camp. 

“Woo!” Karlach cheered, turning back momentarily to hold up her middle finger up to the Szarr Palace as it disappeared over the horizon. “Can’t believe we actually managed to pull that off.” 

“Neither can I,” Shadowheart deadpanned, her expression softening as she looked at Astarion. “But... I’m glad we did.” 

“So am I,” Gale smiled. “This team wouldn’t be the same without your... well, let’s say charm.” 

“You have such a way with words, Gale,” Astarion weakly joked. “But... know that I am grateful for you rescuing me, even if it didn’t seem like it at the time.” 

“Aw, that’s alright!” Karlach gave him a thumbs up. “You’re with us now, and that’s all that matters.” 

“I appreciate that, darling but...” his voice trembled slightly. “Cazador, he’ll... he needs me for the ritual. He will come after me again.” 

“I’d like to see him try,” you said, your confident smile betrayed by your eyes as you clutched onto his hand like a lifeline. “He may be a vampire lord, but he doesn’t even have a slither of Karlach’s strength, or Shadowheart’s resolve or Gale’s power. And if all else fails we’ll just throw Lae’zel at him.” 

You pause for a moment. 

“I know we fucked up tonight but... that won’t happen again, Astarion. We’ll do better. I’ll be better. He... that bastard won’t get you.” 

The corners of his lips twitched up into a smile as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze in kind. He felt the warmth of your love wrapping around his dead heart, like a protective cloak. In that moment, Astarion didn’t know what path lay ahead for him, but he knew that Cazador wouldn’t have any say in it, or anyone else for that matter. 

His future... belonged to him.  

xxx

eh... sorry the ending's a tad cheesy but hope you enjoyed anyhow!

Links to my other Astarion works

Everything's Fine

Restless

Request - Astarion kills everyone in his path to get to you

Request - Astarion tries to save you from kidnappers

Request - Astarion helps you to see that you're beautiful

#astarion x reader #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion ancunin #my writing #fanfiction #request #tw kidnapping #bg3 gale #bg3 shadowheart #bg3 karlach #bg3 godey

[sodamnradd]

“Give it up, Draco. You found what people spend a lifetime searching for, and you just let her leave without you.” Blaise fell back onto the leather sofa and crossed his ankles, looking pensively into the fire. “What I don’t understand is why. You keep saying that if anyone will win, it’s her. And yet here you are.”

Draco opened his mouth to deny, deny, deny. But what was the point? Blaise had seen them together in the prefects’ bath, and later, when Draco tried brushing it off as a casual hook-up, Blaise had only shaken his head and said, ‘I saw your face,’ as if that was supposed to override any lies that came out of Draco’s mouth.

His stomach had been a tangle of nerves since Granger had kissed him goodbye and disappeared with Potter and Weasley to save the world. That was the issue with Gryffindors, forever killing themselves over the next big heroic deed. He wasn’t like them.

“What would you have done?” sniped Draco. It was easy to cast judgement from afar, but Blaise wasn’t living it. “Would you just turn your back on your mother? On your friends? To hell with everyone if you’re in love?”

Blaise gave him a side-long look, grinning. “Are you in love?”

“You seem to think I am.”

“Do you see a future with her?”

“If the world wasn’t so fucked up?”

“Yeah.”

Draco didn’t really have to imagine it because it’s all he’d been thinking about since he first kissed Granger nine months ago.

It wasn’t just her physical being—the charged, tantalising pull of their bodies like opposing magnets—but a vision of what their life could look like. Granger didn’t need pure-blood persuasion to pave her way into the world. She could be self-made. And Draco would stand proudly beside her, as he did best. He could manage the accounts, pursue his hobbies, while ensuring Granger never felt alone navigating her mountainous ambitions.

Draco lived a satiated life, but with Hermione, all he knew was starvation. She was the one thing he didn’t want to barter or consume in small bites. If he had her, he was going to feast.

“It’s not that simple,” he concluded. “It’s not some playground romance anymore. She’s out there risking her life. I can’t afford to love her how I want if she’s just going to wind up dead.”

“Take this from someone who’s buried seven fathers—death is preventable.”

Draco looked up at Blaise, surprised.

His friend had an eerie look on his face, made worse by the fire casting strange shadows over him, but Draco knew the Zabinis had a complicated relationship with murder. And that’s what he meant: murder was preventable, not death.

“What makes you think I could protect her any better than Potter could?”

“The Dark Lord trusts you, you’re a sneaky fuck, and you’re in love. Nobody will fight harder to win.”

~

Donning a backpack full of survival gear, his wand, and the warmest clothes he owned, Draco used their matching bracelets to Port-Key to Granger the next Saturday morning.

She had woven the bracelets with colourful thread—red and gold for him, green and silver for her—and the next week, Draco had adhered matching charms to them. She didn’t know that he could sense her through it. That when she fingered the cool metal engraved with his constellation at night, he felt her presence. Or that it was a gateway to each other using the right spell.

Maybe he’d known he’d follow her all along.

The bracelet transported Draco to lush, crawling hills and enormous, craggy rocks. The sky hung bright white above him. He could sense Granger’s magic in the air, or maybe it was her perfume drifting in the breeze. He inhaled deeply, feeling closer to her already.

There was nobody around when he heard the gasp directly behind him.

He turned and saw the air wobble. The ward he hadn’t realised was there descended. Granger stood two feet away, eyes wide and lips parted. She was thin and pale and seemed afraid.

Regret washed over him. He should have come sooner.

“How do I know it’s really you?” she demanded, wand clutched tightly by her side, a combination of fear and hope flickering in her eyes.

Draco dropped his bag by his feet, taking three strong strides forward. He framed her cold cheeks in his hands, hoping she saw the look on his face and remembered how much she meant to him. He said, “Because nobody else knows how much I love you.”

He kissed her, and a second later, Granger threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back, sobbing.

“I’m here to stay,” he reassured her, holding her tightly. “I’m here to fight.”

And he thought of Blaise in the Slytherin common room, the only one who knew of Draco’s whereabouts, and their discussions of love and death. And he thought of the future he’d seen with Hermione, and he thought he could have it, maybe even a better version of it. One that didn’t involve him at home, pursuing hobbies, but being worth something, too. He could be that. He wanted to be that.

Draco wanted to feast.

(873 words, inspired by Don't Swallow The Cap by The National)

#dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #draco x hermione #dhr #dramione drabble #dramione ficlet #sodamnrad #sodamnraddrabbles

[jasmines-library]

Today I Saw The Whole World {1}

Chapter 1 - Out of body, out of mind.

Summary: You are Sam Winchester’s twin sister, cursed with the same blood running through your veins. When Sam begins experiencing his visions, you too discover a new skill. You can see into the veil.

Warnings: none really for this chapter, some mentions of violence, dissociation and an out of body experience.

Word count: 1.5k

Notes: This chapter follows the first season of supernatural, I’m planning to write further into the show in later chapters. This is kind of a trial chapter so feedback is appreciated. Also there may be some stuff that doesn’t quite fit with the show and that’s because I’m too lazy to go back and check, but who cares because it’s fan fiction and I can do what I want.

Also the title is a song by pierce the veil, which I thought was fitting. So please excuse the pun.

edit: went through and corrected some spelling errors. Apologies for any bad grammar that I missed.

“Y/N?”  

“Hmm?” You blinked slowly, snapping out of your reverie and turning your head towards Sam who furrowed his brow at you. 

You had been doing it again. Watching the people absentmindedly. You had grown a habit of doing that recently; within the last few weeks or so, people seemed to catch your eye more frequently. At first it was only one or two every few days, when you were well charged before a hunt and they would only be there for a few seconds before vanishing, but now your sightings were coming closer together and often lasted slightly longer. The people were peculiar; like they were oblivious to most of the world around them. They always seemed faded at first, until you put all of your focus into what you were watching, drowning out everything around you. You had been watching a woman perched on a bench beneath a lamppost. She was young with a sad look about her face, and wore her hair pinned neatly in an up-do. The woman wore a dark pink corset dress that seemed too formal for some park opposite a shitty motel en route to a shitty town in Arizona, and you found that despite the brightness of the lamppost beaming down in the darkness, no shadow was cast around her. Rolling the ring which sat on her left hand between her index and her thumb, she watched the world go by in front of her. Her gaze was off though as if she was watching the world through a screen and wasn’t actually in the room. That was until her striking blue eyes settled on your face hidden behind the motel room window.  

Sam followed your eye-line out of the window to the bench to find that you were staring blankly at nothing. “Are you listening?” 

“What? Sure.” You mumbled, eyes flitting back to the now empty bench before finally focusing on your brothers who were gathered around the table. You didn’t miss the worried look that Sam shot Dean.

“So you’re clear on the plan?” 

“I-“ 

Dean let out a deep sigh and dragged his hands across his face to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Sweetheart, you have to listen. It’s important.” 

“I know” you rubbed at your eyes with the heel of your palms. You had found yourself becoming increasingly weary as of late. “I’m sorry.”

Dean’s features softened as he rose from the table, his chair squealing on the cheap titled floor, and crouched down next to you on the sofa. He was able to cross the space in two strides. “Where’s your head at, kid?”

You shook your head. If you were going to be totally honest even you didn’t know. You were confused; seeing things that were there one minute and then gone the next was hardly harrowing. “I don’t know.” 

”Y/N/N, whatever’s going on you know you can tell us right?” Sam spoke next, you hadn’t realised he had moved from his chair to be near his siblings. “Is it like my visions?” 

The three of you had recently discovered that Sammy was having visions in his sleep, at first you all thought that they were nightmares but soon realised that they were visions once he predicted the outcome of a hunt. He had pondered whether you were experiencing something similar, considering the two of you were twins, and not only shared a birthday, but a similar mindset too, though you had shown no signs that something was very different.

“You have to tell us if something is wrong.” 

You knew that, of course you did. And you would tell them. Once you knew what was happening. Dean was smart, Sam even smarter. You figured they would figure it out before you did anyway, you would just have to lie to them for a while so you could have a headstart. “It’s nothing, I promise. I’m just tired after all the hunting we’ve been doing recently. I need more than 4 hours of sleep.” 

Sam let out a low chuckle. “Get some sleep then kid. We’ll brief you tomorrow.” 

~~~

That night you slept restlessly; it hadn’t taken long for you to drift to sleep to the soft murmurs of you brothers, but once you were asleep, you didn’t stay that way for long. 

Sitting up abruptly, your eyes were immediately drawn to the bright light of Sam’s laptop illuminating his face in the dark room. The second thing was Dean’s heavy snoring from where he was sprawled out across the bed he had claimed as his. 

Sam seemed elbow deep in his research; he didn’t react as you groggily swung your legs over the side of the pull out couch and made your way into the small kitchen.

“Sam? What are you still doing up?” You asked, peering over his shoulder. You knew that annoyed him. He was reading up on ghosts and their ability to move about the veil. Ghosts? Tomorrow's hunt was a demon hunt.

 “Sammy?” You waved your hand across his face, trying to get his attention. He didn’t react, instead his eyes flicked tirelessly across the screen and he took a swig from one of the many bottles scattered about the papers on the table. 

“You know it’s rude to ignore people, Samuel.” You told him rolling your eyes at the mess. Still, he made no reply. 

“Fine.” You turned away. “Be like that, assface.” 

You reached out to pick up one of the empty bottles from the table, only to find your hand  passing through it. You recoiled quickly, taken back by the motion. You reached out again, trying to grip the cool glass around your calloused hand only for the same thing to happen again. 

“What the-“ you muttered. 

You made your way over to try to shake Dean awake since Sam had decided to ignore you, and that was when you saw it. 

Your own body, curled up beneath a blanket on the pullout sofa. 

~~~ 

It was a firm shake to the shoulder that woke you up. The sunlight was seeping between the thin curtains and your two brothers were moving about the motel room gathering all of their stuff. You groaned and turned away from the hands on your shoulders, trying to bury yourself within the warmth of the covers. But the hands rolled you back over. 

“Nope. Come on sweetheart, time to get up.” You peeled your eyes open to see Dean’s meadow green ones staring down at you. 

Sighing, you pushed yourself up and rubbed the sleep from your eyes before beginning to get ready to leave for the hunt. You couldn’t help but reflect on what had happened last night. 

“Man, I had the strangest dream last night.” 

“Like vision weird?” You twin asked from across the room, stuffing your clothes into a well worn duffel since he had already packed his own and was going to go stir crazy if you didn’t do yours soon. 

“No.” You shook your head. “Nothing like that. It was definitely a dream but it was so…lucid. It felt real.” 

Dean was still sceptical that you weren’t having visions. You had started acting strange when Sam had started getting his visions and it took him a while to come clean about them, but Dean knew that you were more stubborn than your twin; you were a Winchester after all. “You wanna tell us about it.” 

“Well…” you started “there wasn’t really a whole lot to it. I woke up here. Everything was almost exactly as it was when we left it last night. Dean was passed out in his bed and Sam was up researching. Then completely ignored me, even when I waved my hands in his face and read all of his stuff over his shoulder.” You turned to your brother who was looking at you quizzically. “You weren’t even researching anything useful for the hunt. It was completely random.” 

“What’s so weird about that?” Dean asked through a mouthful of leftover fries he had pulled out of the fridge and decided to stuff his face with instead of throwing them away. 

You grimaced at the sight. “Well, when I tried to clean up the mess you two left, my hand went straight through the bottle. And then… and then I saw myself. Asleep on the couch.”

“Huh.” Dean said. “That is freaky.”

“Y/n…” Sam asked cautiously, “what exactly was I researching?” 

“Ghosts? I don’t know. I was kinda freaked out by my own body.” 

Sam was silent. It worried you, but it was when he turned his laptop around to face you that your complexion paled. Sam had been researching ghosts.

~~~

NEXT • MASTERLIST • SERIES MASTERLIST

🏷️ Taglist:

#pls give me feedback #I hope u enjoyed #this was kinda unedited #supernatural #supernatural x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #sister reader #sister!reader #sam Winchester x sister reader #Winchester sister #supernatural x little sister reader

[impala-dreamer]

His Charge

A Supernatural Story

~Y/N is remanded to Castiel's care while the Winchesters go take care of a very angry deity who had taken her hostage. While they wait, she and Castiel get into an in depth conversation about the metaphysics of his being, and she gets him to show her his wings...~

2,562 Words.

Warnings: NSFW. Talk & Loving. Fluff

A/N: Been a hot minute since I've posted any Castiel. I think you'll enjoy this. It's super good... I just reread it. lol. If you enjoy it, please reblog :)

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

“What do they look like?”

Sapphire eyes looked up through thick, black lashes to see beautiful gems staring back.

Y/N smiled behind her whiskey glass and Castiel blushed. He was far from used to such adoration or attention.

“What do what look like?” he asked, countering her question with another.

She laughed softly and set the glass down on the table. The glowing map beneath illuminated the amber liquid and cast a strange array of orange prisms across the table.

“Your wings.”

Her voice was as soft as a song, but held a hint of mischief. Castiel felt something stir deep inside of his vessel as her eyes drifted down from his face to his chest and shoulders. She lingered on his right shoulder and he denied a shiver.

Castiel cleared his throat. “They are… quite large and impressive.”

Y/N bit her lip and laughed. “That’s what she said.”

His head tipped to the left, his nose bunched in confusion. “She?”

“Never mind.”

She looked away, dipping her chin to look down into the whiskey and then back up. Only her eyes moved back to him and Castiel’s face burned hot. He hid the blush, but beneath the surface, he was going wild. His body yearned for her, but he couldn’t make himself take a chance. He hadn’t exactly had the best experiences with human women, and besides, Y/N was barely a friend, almost a stranger. She was his charge. He was there to watch over her while Sam and Dean tracked down the Druid God that was after her; his job was to save her life, not get involved sexually.

If, he thought, that’s what she even wanted.

He often had trouble discerning flirtatious behavior from simple polite conversation. Dean once slapped him on the arm and told him to read their minds, shocked that Cas had such a power but never used it to get any, but that wasn’t something Castiel could bring himself to do. Not unless they asked.

Still, without even trying, he could tell that her heart rate increased slightly when he met her gaze, that her skin flushed nearly imperceptibly when he stared a bit too intensely. He knew that her nipples were hard because he could see with an Angel’s vision through the thin fabric of her t-shirt and cotton bra. He could even smell that faint wetness that dripped down into her panties.

But still, he couldn’t make himself move.

Castiel jolted when Y/N spoke again, her fingers running slowly over the rim of the crystal tumbler. Her tone was deeper, words spilled from her lips slowly, coating him in thick warmth from head to toe.

“I wish I could see them,” she said, lifting the glass to her lips. “I bet they’re beautiful.”

She took a deep drink and Castiel watched as her body took it in. He saw the whiskey splash onto her tongue, flood her taste buds, slither down her throat as her muscles contracted. He could smell the woody scent of it, feel the heat as it burned the back of her throat. His stomach tightened and a wave of heat washed over his manhood. His cock twitched but he took a breath and did his best to keep his vessel under control.

He swallowed hard. “Thank you, but-”

“But what,” she interrupted, licking a drop of liquid from her lip. “They’re too big to fit in this room? They’ll knock the walls down?”

Castiel laughed bashfully. “No-”

“They’re so amazing I’ll die from a peek at them?”

He looked directly into her eyes, unconsciously reaching down into the depths of her. “Most humans cannot handle the sight of them, no.”

“That’s… horrible. What, do they explode?” She laughed gently and took another drink, emptying the glass.

“No.” He sighed. “Most cannot handle the sight of the Divine purely because their minds cannot comprehend the truth of its existence. If I were to show you my true form, for instance, it might, as they say, blow your mind.”

Y/N bit her lip to hold in a drunken laugh. She inhaled deeply, drawing herself up in her seat as she took him in. “Well, I bet they’re magnificent.”

The way her tongue curled around her words, the brightness in her darkening eyes made his stomach tighten. She was definitely flirting, of that he was now sure.

He gave a subtle nod of thanks and tried to look anywhere but at the swell of her breasts. It became increasingly difficult as she leaned onto the table on her elbows, deliberately showing them off.

“So, what other magic powers do you have?” she asked slowly, her mouth a bit numb from the drink.

“I saw you shoot lightning out of your hand, so that’s one…”

Castiel smiled and turned to set his hands on the table casually. “Not lightning, no. Grace.”

“I thought that was just something you said before dinner.”

“No?”

Y/N laughed gently. “I’m teasing you, Castiel. So your Grace is like your superpowers.”

He puckered his lips in thought. “I suppose, technically, yes. If I were a superhero.”

She laughed again, this time easier, as if comfort had truly set in. She ran her eyes over his handsome face and Castiel swallowed hard.

“Oh, you’re a superhero.”

“I don’t have a cape,” he offered.

“Capes are for attention seekers. Trench coats, however…”

He looked down at his coat, suddenly a little self conscious.

Y/N licked her lips and slowly drew the bottom in snug between her front teeth. “Every badass character I’ve ever seen on t.v. wears a trench coat.”

He relaxed, smiling. “Well, then, I suppose- thank you.”

Y/N finished her drink. “I almost died today,” she said solemnly. “A few times. Like… more than once. I think I heard Gabriel blowin’ his horn for me.”

Castiel shook his head. “Gabriel was nowhere near-” She grinned and he laughed at himself.

“You’re not one for jokes, huh?”

“I enjoy them. Just takes me a moment sometimes.”

She was quiet for a bit, watching him, deciding. Then:

“So, you’re this giant ball of light, essentially, crammed into a human body.”

He shrugged but agreed. “Essentially.”

“And where’s the… uh… human that lived there first? Or is it like a snail situation?”

“His name was Jimmy Novack,” Castiel explained softly. “And he was a true believer. He offered me his vessel and we went through many trials together.”

“But he’s not here anymore?”

The Angel shook his head. “He is up in Heaven somewhere. Hopefully happy.”

“You don’t know for sure?”

“I could go look for him, I suppose, but-” He paused and looked off, flashes of guilt-ridden scenes raging through his head. “Best not to disturb him.”

“I getcha.” She leaned back and crossed her arms under her chest, making her breasts pop up deliciously. Castiel held his breath. “So, you’re all alone in some human body. All the same feelings, needs… urges?”

He felt the heat rise to his cheeks and this time, he let it linger. “I do not suffer human needs, no,” he said, almost instantly regretting it. Y/N nodded, a bit disappointed, and looked away. He cleared his throat and softened his tone. “I am in complete control of my vessel and I can do… those things…” Her eyes shot back to his. “If I choose to.”

A half smile turned her lips and Castiel let the warmth inside of him spread through every cell.

“If you choose to,” she echoed, biting her lip seductively. “And how often do you choose to?”

His mouth flooded with saliva and his blood began racing downwards. “Not… very often.”

Boldly, Y/N stood up and set her hand on the table. She dragged her fingers over the Pacific Ocean as she rounded the table to stand before him. Castiel could smell her arousal, feel the heat radiating off of her. She looked down at him and he met her gaze, wanting to grab her hips and pull her down, but afraid to move.

“And now?” she asked, sliding her fingertips up the California coast to steal the drink he’d never touched. Eyes still locked together, Y/N knocked back his whiskey and swallowed hard. She came back up with a slight cough and let the glass slip back over Oregon. “What do you choose now?”

He felt his testicals tighten and every part of his human body wanted to sink deep inside of her. His fingers twitched on his thighs and Castiel grabbed her hips just like he’d imagined, dragging her down into his lap.

“I choose this,” he groaned, leaning in to taste her lips while she rubbed down on his erection. She opened for him, parting her lips with a sweet slowness that nearly drove him mad. His tongue dove inside and she relented, letting him move and lick, suck and nip as he pleased.

Her hands pushed through his black hair, curled around the nape of his neck. She moaned into his mouth as he pawed at her left breast, sneaking his fingers into her shirt to pluck at her nipple. She arched into him and held on tight, dragging her hand down the center of his back.

His spine lit up with sensations and Castiel moaned loudly, pulling away from her mouth as she hit the base of his wings with her exploring hands.

Surprised, she blinked down at him. “Are you OK?”

Breathless, he nodded. “Yes.”

Y/N kissed the side of his mouth and then danced along his jaw, her hands scratching through his hair, tugging at his tie, working their way beneath the layers of suit and coat. Castiel massaged her ass, rolling his hips up into her jeans at a steady pace, loving the way she responded so easily to his motions.

She sat back suddenly and looked at him with wide eyes, irises fully blown and dark. “How- how long until the others get back?”

Unsure, Castiel closed his eyes and set out his spirit to find the Impala. They were still a state away. “A few hours, at least,” he replied, sneaking a hand up beneath her shirt.

Y/N smiled and yanked the shirt away, then her bra, coming back to him with renewed fervor. She sucked at his ear, nibbled on his non-existent pulse, kissed his stunned lips as he toyed with her breasts.

“Fuck, you feel good,” she whispered, nearly whimpering as he pinched her nipples in tandem.

“As do you…”

Y/N reached down between their legs and rubbed gently at the head of his cock. He was lost beneath too many pieces of fabric and she struggled to open his belt.

“Do you have any idea how much clothing you have on?” she teased.

Not catching the tone, Castiel’s brows furrowed. “Yes…” He gasped as she ripped the zipper down and shoved a hand into his slacks. The thin cotton boxers were no match for her probing fingers and Castiel let his head fall back as she stroked him to full hardness.

When she hopped off of him, blue eyes flew open wide, but all was understood as he watched Y/N peel her jeans away. She smiled as his gaze hovered over her plain blue panties and she held her breath while shaking those away as well.

Naked and dripping, she stood before him like a Renaissance statue. Curves and bumps, bruises and scrapes, the cream of her skin, the imperfect perfection of her; it was all there, on display, and Castiel reached for her, snaking his fingers between hers as their palms met.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, guiding her back into his lap.

She smiled against his lips and sank down onto his cock, drawing a deep moan from him. “So are you.”

She rode him slowly at first, rolling her hips gently as they kissed. When her hand slid behind his back again, he shuddered so deeply and jerked his hips upwards so quickly that she shivered and picked up her pace.

“Let me see them,” she whispered, running her hand over that sensitive spot on his back again.

Castiel groaned beneath her, his face smashed in the valley of her breasts. “I-I can’t.”

She took him in as deep as his thick cock would go, and kissed his panting lips. “Then let me feel. I want to feel the real you…”

Hands tight around her body, Castiel kissed her back, licking at her lips until she swooned in his arms.

“Close your eyes,” he ordered, “keep them closed.”

She did as he said, screwing her eyes closed tight while his wings unfurled. She felt the rush of wind, heard the sound as they grew to full size. He could see her struggle to keep her eyes shut, so he kissed her again, distracting her with his hot tongue.

Castiel bent his wings around them, encasing their bodies in the invisible feathers. She felt the tips caress her flesh, smelled the sea and the sky all around her. They were cool yet created a comforting warmth as they touched her, every graze sending blissful sensations through her body.

“My God,” she moaned, “Castiel… they’re… beautiful.”

He smiled and licked at her collarbone, thrusting upwards, fucking into her as she regained her barings.

One hand on his shoulder, the other wandered through the forest of feathers, gently stroking his wings as if touching the very essence of God.

Every brush of her fingers over his wings made his cock twitch and Castiel moaned without care, hiding his face in the crook of her neck as he fucked up into her dripping cunt.

“You’re so fucking amazing,” she cried, reaching back to caress the root of his wings, the source of it all.

Gritting his teeth, Castiel’s nails dug into her shoulders and hips, forcing her to work with him. He sent out a wisp of his Grace to fill her clit and Y/N screamed with orgasmic pleasure as she came hard and wet on his throbbing cock. One more jab of his hips and he came, shooting his load up into the depths of her.

It leaked down onto his slacks as she lifted up and collapsed into his arms.

“That-” Her head lolled against his shoulder and he held her close. “Amazing-”

Castiel kissed her cheek as she drifted into unconscious bliss, her body giving up after the intensity of it all. The long two weeks held captive by an insane deity, the realization of the Horrific and Divine, the orgasm he’d just thrust upon her; it had all caught up at once, and Y/N went limp against him.

He kept his wings out and around them as he carried her to his room.

It wasn’t truly his room, not really his bed as he never slept, but it was where he felt comfortable when he was relaxing. The pillows were soft and the blanket was always tucked in perfectly.

He lay Y/N down and untucked the blanket for the first time ever, gently draping it around her as she rolled onto her side.

Hand on her forehead, Castiel sent another faint wave of Grace through her, sending her into a deeper sleep.

“Rest well, Y/N…”

She smiled in her sleep, somehow whispering his name. “N’ght, Castiel.”

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#spn fanfic #castiel #castiel x reader #cas x reader #castiel x you

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hi~ I just recently start watching record of ragnarok saw one of your post the other day! I really love your writing style! I want to make one request, if you okay with it.

I read the one post, an old post where reader is Shinobu and the ror cast arrive just in time to save her from being eaten by Douma... This is going to be a bit angsty, but can I request alternate one? They arrived but was too late and they watched as Douma absorbed reader into his body, her hand fall down to her side and her katana dropped to ground...

Not the ending! After they killed Douma, believing that the reader is death, his body turn into ashes and reveals reader, laying on the ground, alive but unconscious and extremely weaken. Practically just want them to get a huge scare

-You had spent years researching, looking at any piece of information you could find to deal with this, to deal with the Upper Moon that killed your sister.

-You finally had what you needed, what you wanted, the results you had been looking for, wisteria, incredibly poisonous to demons.

-However, getting it into the demons was another question entirely, coating weapons with it wasn’t enough to kill, only temporarily stun, at least with the stronger demons. Tengen and his wives were able to provide that information for you.

-The only thing that was coming to mind, at least for one specific demon, Douma, the only demon you were truly after, except for maybe Muzan, as you wanted revenge for your sister.

-You knew Douma, you knew how he would react to seeing you, and you knew it would involve your sacrifice to take him out, you knew he was going to eat you.

-You started small, injecting small amounts of wisteria poison into your body, so your body could get used to it without you feeling sick yourself, increasing the dosage over time, fusing your blood with wisteria.

-You told your closest loved one (Lover/Parental Figure) what you had been doing and what you planned on doing, showing them your determination to bring Douma down.

-They knew better than to push back, as they knew you wouldn’t listen, so they stood beside you, supporting this decision, with their own plan in mind, to help you kill Douma so you wouldn’t need to sacrifice yourself.

-The fight against Douma, they were late, rushing to get to you as soon as possible, to prevent your death, they didn’t want to lose you, not like this, not ever.

-He rushed into the room, seeing your broken and batter body in Douma’s grasp, a sadistic grin on his face, licking his lips like you were going to be the tastiest treat he ever tasted.

-Douma opened his maw and began to devour you, swallowing you whole as (Lover/Parental Figure) shouted out, “NO!!” your arm went limp, your sword falling from your grasp, not even hearing the shout as everything went back.

-Douma licked his lips, wiping his mouth as he had drooled a little before smirking at (Lover/Parental Figure), “You’re too late- I’m grateful for you letting me enjoy my meal~”

-Hearing his teasing words caused (Lover/Parental Figure) to see red as he charged forward.

-Douma had to admit, this opponent was much stronger, a smile of delight on his lips as he leapt back, dodging his weapon, “Did you love her? Does it make you furious that I ate her? Tell me- tell- URK!!”

-Douma suddenly coughed up blood, spurting from his mouth as he collapsed to his knees, his vision now hazy, feeling the burning from the inside out of wisteria. His eyes widened, realizing what you had done as he lurched again, coughing out more blood.

-(Lover/Parental Figure) immediately dashed forward, removing Douma’s head from his shoulders, remembering your words well, that to defeat a demon, the head had to be cut off.

-He stepped on Douma’s head, which was laughing loudly, thinking the situation was hysterical, and with just a bit of force, crushed the skull under his foot, causing him to dissolve into ash.

-He looked over at Douma’s body and he froze, his eyes going wide as his voice caught in his throat, seeing your body laying there as the ash vanished.

-You were breathing, but only barely, and you were unconscious, extremely weakened as he could see that you were covered in wounds, not only the ones he first saw you with when he entered, but new ones, caused by the poison inside Douma as he was trying to digest you.

-He remained by your side while you were taken to the infirmary, holding your hand as you seemed to sleep almost peacefully, just wanting you to wake up.

-As your eyes slid open, seeing him sitting there, not paying attention that you had woken up, you gave his hand a small squeeze, making him flinch and instantly his eyes met your own. You couldn’t help but smile softly up at him, seeing the relief on his face, “Is he gone?” he sighed deeply, his eyes closing in relief, “He is, thanks to your recklessness and I crushed his skull.” You were surprised by his words before tears welled easily in your eyes, slipping down the sides of your face, “Thank goodness!” He couldn’t help but smile at you, brushing your tears away, kissing you softly, making you sigh into the kiss, before telling you what had happened and that you were still recovering. You didn’t mind resting finally, your goal now accomplished, your sister was avenged, and the world was safe from Douma.

            -Thor, Lu Bu, Poseidon, Beelzebub, Zeus (platonically), and Odin (platonically)

-He knew that you were injured, but seeing your eyes open he immediately hugged you, hunched over you on the bed. His embrace was firm but warm and you couldn’t help but smile, leaning into the embrace, a soft sigh leaving you. Before you could even ask what had happened, he told you that with the poison in your body, which has now been flushed out, assisted in killing Douma, as it’s what gave him the opening he needed to land a fatal below, crushing his skull beneath his foot. You were surprised by his slight savagery, which did make him give you a small smile, “I was so angry when I thought I lost you- and he was the source of that anger.” You smiled up at him, giggling softly before he pecked your cheek gently, telling you to get some rest, which you had no issue doing, as Douma was now gone. You could rest quietly now.

-Hades, Qin Shi Huang, Nikola, Kojiro, Adam (platonically)

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror thor #ror lu bu #ror poseidon #ror beelzebub #ror zeus #ror odin #ror hades #ror qin shi huang #ror nikola tesla #ror kojiro sasaki #ror adam

[cybrsan]

Treasure — J.WY [Pt. 2]

SUMMARY: Tensions run high as you try to come to an agreement with the eight benders.

PAIRING: Waterbender Jung Wooyoung x Non-Bender F!Reader

RATING/GENRE: M ; angst, fluff, eventual smut ; ATLA au, enemies to lovers

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

WARNINGS: Minor POV switches, emotionally charged fight

LINKS: Ode To ATEEZ Masterlist | Together in Harmony Masterlist | Cross-posted on AO3

↞ Previous | Masterlist | Next ↠

Wooyoung looks around the inside of the tent, eyes widening with awe. It somehow seems bigger on the inside, imbued with a magical energy that’s almost tangible. The walls are draped with layers of cascading, vibrant fabrics, the light of the lanterns reflecting off of them in a way that casts the entire space in a warm, rainbow glow. Bookshelves are filled to the brim with baubles the likes of which Wooyoung has never seen; delicate seashells, weathered bones, intricate carvings. And above it all are an array of wind chimes, hanging from the tent’s supports, their sweet melodies bringing a sense of tranquility to the space.

So mystified by the sights, it takes him a moment to notice the old woman sitting cross-legged on a plush cushion towards the back of the tent. She watches him with patient, knowing eyes and he instinctively bows once he sees her, apologizing for his inattentiveness. 

She beckons him closer with a wave of her hand. “Come, child, I’ve been expectin’ you.”

Wooyoung takes a seat on a cushion in front of her, taking in her appearance. Long white hair spills out of a loose head covering, and her skin is tan and wrinkled, a sign of many years spent in the sun. “You’re Nadira?” 

“That’s right. And you’re a lost soul lookin’ for Pandora, just like the girl who was just here.” He frowns at the mention of her, and Nadira chuckles. “Don’t be like that. You’re going to need her help, after all.” 

Wooyoung brings his thumb to his mouth, chewing on the nail absentmindedly—a nervous habit he’s never been able to kick. If this girl really is the one he saw in his dream, he wants nothing to do with her. A crumbling stone floor, a pedestal missing an emblem, his own reflection looking back at him in her tearful eyes… No, Wooyoung steels himself. He won’t accept her help, no matter what.

Nadira makes a disapproving clucking noise with her tongue as if sensing the direction of his thoughts and gets up, taking something off of a table in the corner of the room. She returns and places a large wooden filled with sand in the space between them. 

“I’m gonna show you somethin’, and I expect you to pay attention.”

Wooyoung nods, the tone of her voice demanding respect. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Closing her eyes, she holds up her hands, and the sand in the bowl begins to swirl and twist into various shapes. First, Wooyoung sees nine figures walking toward a towering building, with one trailing behind and one in the front, confidently leading them forward. The scenes change quickly after that, with him only able to catch glimpses of what happens next. The nine figures split apart into separate groups, fighting amongst themselves. The building collapsing into rubble. A mirrored figure, holding onto something precious before dropping it, a tear falling down their cheek.       

Wooyoung’s heart sinks into his stomach. Though there’s no proof that any of what Nadira is showing him is true, he can’t find it in himself to doubt her prophecy. Not only does he know better than anyone that predicting the future is a real gift some people possess, but too much of what he just saw matches up with his own visions. 

She opens her eyes, and the sand in the scrying bowl stills. “Did you see, child?”

Wooyoung doesn’t know how to answer her. How can she ask this so nonchalantly, as if the future she showed wasn’t distressingly bleak? In lieu of an answer, he bows his head to her and gets up, eager to return to his group. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what you were hoping to prove, but I am only more certain than ever that that girl needs to stay as far away from us as possible.”   

Before Nadira can say anything else, Wooyoung flees from the tent and heads back toward town. The sun is already setting behind the clouds—he’s late for the meeting with the others. He doesn’t know what he’s going to say to them, to Hongjoong, certain that the leader will be expecting him to come back with some helpful information. He enters the inn, spinning various potential stories and excuses in his head. He hears San’s voice greeting him happily, and he looks up with a strained smile, only for it to immediately fall when he sees her standing there, talking to his friends, his family. He won’t let this future unfold. He can’t let anyone be hurt. Not again.

“What is she doing here?” 

Wooyoung doesn’t even address you while he speaks so harshly, instead turning from you to face Hongjoong whose expression hardens.

“You act as if I invited her here.” 

“She’s a traveler, like us,” Seonghwa explains, interjecting. “She wants to join us on our search for Pandora.”

Wooyoung scoffs, eyeing you with disdain. “Thanks, but no thanks. There’s enough of us already.”

His outright animosity towards you has you shell-shocked. You can’t think of anything you’ve done to deserve it, and you say as much. “I’m sorry, have I done something to offend you?”

San claps a hand on the back of Wooyoung’s neck, frowning. “Yeah, Young-ah, what’s with the animosity? This isn’t like you.” 

“I just don’t think we should trust her, that’s all.”

“You don’t have to trust me to cooperate with me,” you insist.

“See,” he says, gesturing to you. “She basically just admitted she isn’t a trustworthy person.”

Oh, he’s got to be kidding. “I did not!” 

Jongho, one of the group’s firebenders, hushes you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. You didn’t notice his approach, too invested in your argument with Wooyoung. “Don’t take the bait,” he whispers. “It won’t get you anywhere.” 

You shrug his hand off of you but nod, grateful for his advice. With a huff, you take a seat at the table, forcefully removing yourself from the situation. The conversation lulls after that, with the benders pairing off and having their own discussions about where to go from here. San seems to scold Wooyoung as the latter ignores him, which gives you some satisfaction, at least. 

When you finally look at Hongjoong, his gaze is locked onto Wooyoung and full of suspicion. It raises the hair on your arms—you get the feeling he knows something you and the others don’t. Eventually, Yeosang, the lone boy at the end of the table, speaks up. His voice is light and airy, lilting like bells. 

“I say we should hear her out.” 

Wooyoung looks shocked at his input, as if he was the last person he would have expected to speak in your favor. “Why sh—”

“I think she has a map. It looked like she was going to pull it out of her bag earlier.”

He’s surprisingly observant for someone that seems so uninvolved in the goings on around him. You nod and finally pull the map out from your bag, placing it on the table in front of you. Hongjoong goes to reach for it, but you hold it securely, sending him a warning glare. 

“I’ll share this with you if and only if you let me come with you.” 

Wooyoung continues to speak out against you, saying, “We don’t have any way of verifying that this map is even real! This entire conversation is pointless.” 

“It’s more than what we had before,” Yunho says, finally speaking up. “Could be worth a try.”

Mingi piggybacks off of him, agreeing. “I’m tired of wandering around aimlessly. At least this gives us something to go off of.”

Hongjoong scans the map, nodding approvingly. “You guys are right. I think it’s worth a shot. Having her with us won’t be too much of a burden, and this map is useful.”

“Thank you,” you say, grateful that most of them have taken your side. “I promise I’ll help however I can. There’s nothing I want more than to quickly find Pandora so that we can all head our separate ways.”

After making plans to meet downstairs at dawn, everyone disperses to take care of their own business. Some of the boys come up to you to formally introduce themselves, and a few even seem to be happy that you will be joining them. On the other hand, Wooyoung quickly excuses himself, presumably ready to go sulk in his room over your addition to the group, but Hongjoong calls after him.

“Woo, my room, now. I need to talk to you.” 

His tone even sends a chill down your spine. You watch the two of them leave, not failing to notice the anxiety on Wooyoung’s face as he accompanies the firebender to his room.

Wooyoung follows Hongjoong up the stairs, unease settling in his gut; the last few times they had a one-on-one conversation weren’t exactly pleasant. The firebender disappears inside his room, leaving the door open. Wooyoung hesitates in the doorway, watching silently as Hongjoong shrugs off the outer layers of his robes before taking a seat on the edge of his bed. Looks like he’s staying in a single room again. 

“Don’t just stand there,” Hongjoong says, beckoning him in. “And close the door behind you.”

Wooyoung does as asked, but fidgets in place, unsure of how to behave or what to say. The tension between them hangs heavily in the air, and it makes him feel suffocated. He’s almost tempted to run from the room like a frightened animal, but he has more pride than that. He also knows that he can’t avoid Hongjoong forever. 

Hongjoong crosses and uncrosses his legs restlessly before finally settling on a position with his feet firmly on the ground. Despite the nervousness in his movements, he locks onto Wooyoung with a stoic, unyielding expression. “So, does your strange behavior around this girl have something to do with your conversation with Nadira?”

Thankful for the opening, Wooyoung quickly agrees. “Yeah. Nadira’s a sandseer; she showed me a vision that seemed to warn against our cooperation with an outsider. Presumably, the girl.” 

Hongjoong quirks an eyebrow. “Is that so?” When Wooyoung nods, he adds, “And are you sure her visions can be trusted? After all, we both know that glimpses into the future tend to be fickle.” 

Wooyoung purses his lips, the firebender’s subtle jab at him not going unnoticed. “I can’t promise you that what she showed me is true, but she seemed sure of herself. It also—” He cuts himself off, eyes widening as he realizes he almost revealed the fact that he’s been having visions of the girl too. Internally, he curses himself for still wanting to garner Hongjoong’s favor so badly that the urge to tell the truth comes naturally. 

“It also…?” 

“It lines up with my gut feeling, that’s all. I don’t think we should trust her.”

“So, you’re telling me to trust your ‘gut feeling’ and the uncertain vision of sandseer we know nothing about over a girl offering us help and real information? You aren’t stupid, Wooyoung, and don’t pretend to be. There’s something else.” 

It’s at moments like this when Wooyoung remembers just how clever Hongjoong is and why he was able to rise through the ranks of the Royal Court so quickly. He has a remarkable aptitude to see through falsities and anticipate the hidden motivations of those around him. Wooyoung’s mind races as he tries to maintain his composure, and when Hongjoong’s eyes narrow slightly, a faint glint of suspicion evident in his gaze, Wooyoung looks away. 

“There isn’t anything else. Now, if that’s all…?” 

He backs away slightly, ready to leave the room, but Hongjoong continues to talk. “You’re so eager to run away from me. I remember when you always wanted to be by my side. You would even tease the others, saying that I was your favorite. What happened?”

The 180 shift in conversation takes Wooyoung off guard, and he can’t stop himself from taking the bait. “You know what happened. Don’t try to manipulate me into apologizing again when you don’t plan on forgiving me.”

“Manipulate you? Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“It’s what you’re good at, isn’t it?”

“I’m a diplomat, Wooyoung,” Hongjoong explains, shaking his head. “A peacemaker. I don’t manipulate people.” 

The rational part of Wooyoung knows he should stop the conversation here. That he’s just being goaded into another argument, and nothing good will come from it. But he’s never been very good at being rational; his emotions, like waves in the midst of a storm at sea, often threaten to swallow him whole. 

“Was.”

Hongjoong’s expression darkens. “Excuse me?”

“You were a diplomat. You aren’t anymore.” 

Wooyoung takes no satisfaction from rubbing salt in Hongjoong’s wound, but he can’t find it in himself to feel remorse, either. If he doesn’t lash out, if he doesn’t fight back, he feels like he’ll just break into pieces instead. A flicker of hurt shows on Hongjoong’s face before he regains his composure, fire alighting in his eyes.

“And whose fault is that? Mine?”

“Well, it isn’t mine.”

“Funny,” Hongjoong scoffs. “I remember you telling me about a certain vision you had that led me astray.”

“And how many times did I tell you that my visions were uncertain? You put too much faith in me!”

Hongjoong is standing now, sweat dampening his brow, and Wooyoung notices the condensation collecting on the wall behind him. Their emotions are fueling their bending, essentially turning the room into a sauna.

“As if you didn’t encourage me to,” Hongjoong spits. “You would follow me around like a lost puppy, telling me every little thing you dreamt. You just loved having all my attention, didn’t you?” 

Wooyoung steps back, wincing as if Hongjoong’s words were a physical blow. His hands begin to tremble, but he clenches them into fists, knuckles turning white. “All I ever wanted to do was help you.”

“Yeah, and you did a great job, didn’t you?” The sarcasm drips from Hongjoong’s tone like venom.

“Something went wrong one time, Hongjoong. One out of hundreds.” 

“And it cost me everything. My job, my reputation, my livelihood. Everything ruined all because you told me Ba Sing Se’s ambassador was a traitor, and it wasn’t true.”

“You should have found evidence before making the arrest! Stop blaming me for a decision you made.”

“A decision based on your word. I trusted you, Wooyoung, and you betrayed me.” 

“I can’t believe you,” Wooyoung says weakly, the fight drained from him. “You used me, and the second something went wrong, you just cast me aside like I was nothing. I thought I was worth more to you than that.”

He turns to leave, but all it takes is Hongjoong saying, “Wooyoung, wait,” to stop him in his tracks. And so wait he does. He stands there with his back turned, blinking away tears and praying that Hongjoong will apologize and tell him that he means the world to him, just like he used to. But the apology never comes. 

“You dreamt about her, didn’t you?” 

Wooyoung doesn’t respond, but he knows that his silence will be answer enough. He isn’t surprised that Hongjoong figured it out—he knew he would, sooner or later. 

“Of course you did,” Hongjoong laughs in disbelief. “Well, I don’t know what you or Nadira saw, but I don’t care. She’s coming with us and that’s final. If you have a problem with it, you can leave.” 

When the door slams shut behind him, Wooyoung can’t help but feel that his chance to repair his relationship with Hongjoong has slipped away for good. 

NETWORKS: @cromernet @kflixnet @pirateeznet

TAGLIST: @nebulousbookshelf @ad0rechuu @seonghwaddict @sanniesbunnie @wooya1224 @tournesol155 @ja3hwa @pocketjoong-reads @lovandr @yeoyeoland

#wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung x reader #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #wooyoung imagines #wooyoung smut #ateez smut #wooyoung fluff #ateez fluff #wooyoung angst #ateez angst #wooyoung fic #ateez fic #jung wooyoung fic #my fic #kpop fic #kpop writers #kpop writing

[reallygroovyninja]

Can we see Clarke's POV when she opens the door and sees Lexa in nothing but a trenchcoat and lingerie

I'm obsessed with this au

When Clarke opened the door, the sight that greeted her was not one she had expected. Lexa stood there, an enigmatic figure cloaked in a trench coat, her posture both confident and slightly apprehensive. The dim hallway light cast shadows that danced across Lexa's features, enhancing the air of mystery that surrounded her. Clarke's eyes, wide with surprise, flickered with questions that hung silently between them.

For a moment, neither spoke. The tension was palpable, a charged silence that seemed to vibrate with unspoken emotions and questions. Clarke's mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle before her. Why was Lexa here, looking like a heroine out of a classic film, standing at her doorstep with an intensity that Clarke felt in her bones?

Then, with a deep breath that seemed to signal her resolve, Lexa's hands moved to the belt of her trench coat, her eyes never leaving Clarke's. The unveiling was slow, deliberate, and as the coat fell open, Clarke's breath hitched in her throat. There, revealed in the soft hallway light, was Lexa in lingerie that left little to the imagination, a vision that struck Clarke with the force of a physical blow.

Clarke's mind went blank, a whirlwind of emotions sweeping through her. Surprise, desire, confusion, and a profound realization all collided within her in the span of a heartbeat. The visual impact of Lexa, vulnerable yet bold, daring yet uncertain, etched itself into Clarke's memory with vivid clarity. It was a declaration, a tangible expression of desire and longing that Lexa had chosen to communicate in the most direct way possible.

In that moment, Clarke understood the depth of Lexa's feelings, the courage it must have taken to stand before her, laid bare in such a manner. The gesture shattered any pretense of ambiguity, laying the foundation for truths that had remained unspoken, desires that had been cloaked in the safety of friendship.

Clarke's heart pounded in her chest, a tumultuous mix of feelings flooding her senses. She was acutely aware of Lexa's vulnerability, the way her breath seemed to catch as she awaited Clarke's response. The air between them was thick with anticipation, with the weight of decisions that hung in the balance.

As Clarke took in the sight of Lexa, her mind raced through the possibilities that lay ahead. This moment marked a crossroads, a choice that would define the nature of their relationship moving forward. The realization that Lexa was willing to risk so much, to step so far out of her comfort zone for the sake of expressing her feelings, touched Clarke in ways she hadn't anticipated.

The intensity of the moment, the raw honesty in Lexa's gesture, forced Clarke to confront her own feelings, to acknowledge the depth of her connection to Lexa. It was a turning point, a moment of profound clarity that demanded a response, not just of the mind, but of the heart.

As Clarke stood there, meeting Lexa's gaze, she realized that the question Lexa posed without words was not just about desire or physical attraction. It was an invitation to explore the uncharted territories of their relationship, to move beyond the confines of friendship into something more profound, more intimate.

The realization was overwhelming, a revelation that opened the door to a future Clarke had scarcely allowed herself to imagine. In the vulnerability of Lexa's gesture, Clarke saw the possibility of a connection that transcended the ordinary, a bond that could deepen and evolve in ways she had never dared to dream.

In the stillness of that charged moment, Clarke found herself at a loss for words. Lexa stood before her, the embodiment of vulnerability and strength, her gaze holding Clarke's in a silent plea for understanding, for acceptance. The lingerie, black and intricate, seemed not just an attire but a symbol of the barriers Lexa was willing to tear down between them.

Clarke swallowed hard, her eyes tracing the contours of Lexa's form, taking in the courage it must have taken for her to stand there, exposed in more ways than one. The realization of what Lexa was offering, of what she was asking, settled heavily in Clarke's chest. This was not a mere physical proposition; it was an invitation into the depths of Lexa's soul, a plea for intimacy that transcended the physical realm.

The weight of Lexa's gaze was almost palpable, filled with hope and an underlying thread of fear—a fear of rejection, of having misjudged the strength of their connection. Clarke stepped forward, closing the distance between them, her movements guided by a force she couldn't name. The air shifted as she reached out, her hand trembling slightly as she touched Lexa's cheek, a gesture tender and questioning.

"Lexa," Clarke whispered, her voice barely above a breath, thick with emotion. It was all she could muster, but the sincerity in her voice was unmistakable. Clarke watched as a range of emotions flickered across Lexa's face—relief, joy, and an undeniable love.

The tension that had filled the hallway began to dissipate, replaced by an electric connection that drew them closer. Clarke could feel the warmth radiating from Lexa, the beat of her heart rapid and strong. It was a moment of profound truth, a turning point that would redefine the boundaries of their relationship.

Clarke stepped back slightly, her hand still cradling Lexa's face, and smiled—a smile that spoke of acceptance, of shared vulnerability. "Don't just stand in the hallway," she murmured, the corner of her mouth quirking up in a gentle tease. It was an offer of comfort, an invitation to step inside, to explore the depths of their connection in the privacy and safety of Clarke's apartment.

As Lexa crossed the threshold, shedding her trench coat and leaving behind the barriers it represented, Clarke felt a surge of wonder. Here was Lexa, in all her complexity and beauty, trusting Clarke with her most intimate self. It was a gift beyond measure, a leap of faith that Clarke was determined to honor with her own openness, her own willingness to explore the new territory that lay before them.

The door closed softly behind them, sealing off the world outside.

#I hope you enjoy this part as well #Way too many words #I've read this multiple times and it definitely could be better #my brain has been occupied with a different story idea

[frango-maconheiro]

Welcome Home

Wally Darling x GN!reader

part one ! part two

☆ My sandwich lover crush (part three) ☆

𑁍𖹭 Thank you all for the support and silly comments. You guys are awesome! 𖹭𑁍

☆ I appreciate criticism, ideas, and your opinions. ☆

Trigger Warning: none

🪼 when you woke up, you were laying in a really green grass. where are you? you look around to see that you're in the middle of a forest, a weird one that is, all trees got different colors on the leaves, like, there was literally some with purple leaves, you've never heard about a forest like this.

🪼 you look into your arms to see that your sandwich is still there and in good condition. feeling happy that at least you have a sandwich, you give it a little kiss and proceed to take a bite out of it.

🪼 you stretch yourself and get up. You don't really feel anything wrong with your body, but you still check yourself for anything weird and find nothing wrong. that's good.

🪼 "This makes no sense." You think to yourself. Why would someone kidnap you in the middle of the night, not really harm you, and bring you to the middle of the woods? maybe you were gonna be used as a sacrifice, but they didn't really like you, so they just dumped you to die here? you don't really wanna know.

🪼 you put your hand on your pocket to grab your phone just to feel nothing. Oh yeah, you forgot that you had put it to charge. Well, there's nothing you can really do about it. It's not like you knew you would need it. At least you have your precious emotional support sandwich.

🪼 you've been walking in a straight line all this time, enough time for you to realize that you're not dreaming and that this is probably some kind of wonderland because you've encountered all kinds of insects and they were all squishy, cartoon like, shiny, colorful, cute lil guys with big silly eyes, its like they all came out of a children's book!

🪼 your favorite one yet is this big rhinoceros beetle you found! it walked so silly, and it started following you after you gave it a piece of your sandwich, so you decided to take it with you.

🪼 finally, after so much time of walking without any trace of civilization, you heard it, voices coming from further away. you start walking a little faster, not running, you don't want to leave your little beetle friend behind.

🪼 finally, you get close enough. you hide in the shadows behind some trees, taking a peek at those who are making all these noises. you clear your vision to look again. It can't be. These aren't people. They're puppets!

🪼 specifically the puppets from that show you were watching yesterday. y'know the one with the silly cast where that silly puppet with big eyes, banana skin, and deep blue cotton candy hair tried talking with you, and you changed the channel on his face? yes, yes, that one.

🪼 you're not really that shocked. You've encountered enough silly bugs to collect your sanity back together. besides, you're pretty sure you could beat the shit out of them if you wanted. like, why would most of them actually know how to fight?

🪼 you find it quite interesting that they look more like the art version that you saw in the countdown screen than actual puppets.

🪼 it was starting to get so boring to watch them play and have a nice picnic that you began to notice that someone was missing. It was Wally, Wally was missing.

🪼 "Where the fuck did Wally went???" you swear you had just saw him minutes ago, you search around to find nothing, he's gone.

🪼 you feel your beetle bonking its head on your right leg, glancing at it, you watch as it points toward something - no, someone. squinting your eyes a little, you see Wally, who stopped walking when you finally noticed his presence.

🪼 he was looking directly into your eyes with that smile of his. he waves at you. "Hello, are you new here?" He gets closer, "What's your name? I could show you around." he says, perking up a little at the offer he made.

🪼 he looks shady, but you're starving, and you're practically homeless now. "Sure, buddy, lead the way." You tell him. his smiles get wider, and his pupils expand. It reminds you of a cat. If you couldn't feel his excitement before, now you could. "Wonderful! I gotta introduce you to everyone first."

🪼 He runs into your direction, practically jumping. He holds your wrist and drags you toward the others. he is so excited that you can't help but giggle. if this continues, this man will grow into your heart in no time.

🪼 at the same time you found it cute you also took a notice at how Wally's grip is fucking strong, and he doesn't seem to be even gripping your wrist that hard. He could probably snap your wrist if he wanted.

🪼 Everyone seemed confused by Wally running until they saw you, who was trying your best not to fall while running alongside Wally.

🪼 "Hey Wally, who's that behind you?" The orange dude asked, you forgot his name. "This, my friends, is our new neighbor! their name is.." Wally turns his head to look at you. "Oh yeah, you never told me your name."

🪼 "My name -" but as you were about to answer, a cute puppet with little horns runs up to you with another cute puppet by their side. "Hiii!!! my name's Julie!!" Julie tells you enthusiastically, "And he's Frank!!" she points at the guy by their side. "Hello." Frank greets you with a small wave. "Hii, it's nice to meet you two." You greet them back. they seemed nice.

🪼 "Well, now could you tell us your-" now Wally is the one interrupted. "Hi, new neighbor. Welcome to the neighborhood. Do you want some cake? I'm Howdy." Howdy extends one of his hands with a plate with a very good-looking cake. "Oh, thank you, Howdy!" You shake his hand, sitting on the grass with them. someone taps on your should, and you look to see that orange guy. "Nice to meet you, neighbor. I'm Eddie, the mailman. " You greet him and give him a little wave of your free hand.

🪼 you grab a spoon, taking a bite out of the cake that was given to you. this cake is really good. Whoever made this could make your birthday cake at any time. although you were really enjoying your time, you couldn't shake of the stare you were getting.

🪼 you look to your side to see who was staring so much at you only to be met with Wally's expended pupils. his stare is so intense, it's like he's in a trance, it's kinda creepy, but it also reminds you of a cat. You wonder if he would slap your hand if you tried to pet his hair.

🪼 "neighbor, tell me your name." he whispered, it sounded almost like a command. "Sure, but only if you let me pet your hair." you whispered back. he tilted his head a little to the side, "What do you mean?" he doesn't know what petting is? now that's surprising.

🪼 "Well, it's when someone does this, see?" You extend your arm to pet his hair. His hair is so fuzzy and soft. it seems like he liked it because he eventually started closing his eyes, leaning into your touch.

🪼 It's been ten minutes, and you thought you petted his hair long enough, but when he didn't feel anymore petting and opened his eyes to see your hand leaving, he immediately grabbed it. "What are you doing, neighbor? Pet me more."

🪼 now you're stuck with petting Wally's hair and eating cake. you don't mind, but he seems very comfortable, too comfortable, I mean, he literally put his head on your lap so you could pet him more. silly cat man.

🪼 for now, you're just sticking with these guys until you can find a way to get out, to eat your sandwiches.

☆ what do you guys think? ☆

#welcome home wally #wally darling #wally darling x reader #welcome home x reader #welcome home

[k-nayee]

Damn, Forreal? JJK

wc: 3.6k

Traveler M.List

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

The day was perfect.

Sun shined bright, casting a beautiful glow over the buildings as a carnival took place in the rural town.

And as event was in full swing, streets filled with laughter and joyous sounds of celebration down below; a high-stakes game of cat and mouse played out on the rooftops above.

The trio first-years of Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College (more commonly known as Tokyo Jujutsu High) moved with precision as they attempted to retrieve a finger of Sukuna that's been recently located.

What made the task easy also made it difficult, especially when the finger's presence led to the unwanted attention of nearby curses due to its dark power.

It's a battle of fierce clash, each side fighting with such ferocity it made the very air around crackle with energy.

"Itadori!"

The vessel for the King of Curses was already a step ahead, focus zeroed in on a particular curse holding their given target tightly in its grasp.

With a burst of speed, he closes the distance and lands a solid punch just as it was about to swallow the finger.

The direct hit sends the creature stumbling. Its grip loosening enough to allow Itadori to leap up and grab ahold of the ancient relic.

"I got it!!!" he yells triumphantly, holding up the cursed object with a grin.

But victory was short-lived.

Recovering quicker than anticipated, the curse charges and ram into the teen's chest.

The impact sends him reeling, doubling over with hacking coughs as the precious finger slipped from his grasp and went flying through the air. 

Nobara cackles at the sight before exercising the offending curse with practiced ease. "You had one job and blew it! Way to go."

Megumi, ever the stoic and aloof teammate, cast a worried glance in Itadori's direction. "Are you okay?!"

His call for concern is received with a thumbs-up and the pinkette's bright (albeit slightly embarrassed) smile.

"Y-yeah, I'm good!" light brown eyes light up upon spotting the dropped finger rolling away...

"Ah! There it is!"

...right off the edge of the building and into the bustling streets below.

He felt it before he saw it.

Looking up, Itadori's met the deadpanned gazes of Megumi and Nobara causing him to release a sheepish cough "Hee Hee...my bad."

|

|

Amid the vibrancy of the carnival stood a corn-dog stand.

The owner?

A sweet old man, whose face, even when marked by the creases and wrinkles of time, still held a spirited smile of youth.

His withered hands worked mechanically: dipping and frying, serving and greeting. A cycle he never tire of, always feeling as if his first day on the job.

Despite the dimming of his vision over the years, his other senses had heightened enough that the joyous sounds of families and the sweet smell of treats in the air painted a picture his eyes no longer could give...

"Thank you, Ojiisan!"

The chirping, cheerful voice brings a warm smile to his face as he turns toward the young customer.

"You're welcome! Happy to please~" Prepared by memory and touch, he carefully offers the freshly made corndog into the giddy anticipated hands of the little girl.

Her mother, watching the entire exchange, pays him with a warm grin of her own. "Thank you once again! Will you be here later? She just love your corndogs!"

"Glad you like them," he responds, tipping his faded hat at her flattering words in gratitude. "But yes, I'll still be here in the park. Tend to rotate every hour or two for better coverage! Gotta make sure everyone gets a taste of these beauts!"

Just as he gives the aging but sturdy cart a playful pat, a soft chime interrupts the moment.

Feeling his pockets for a moment, the old man pulls out a pocket watch before flashing the vintage item to them.  "Looks like it's time to do just that..."

As they prepared to part ways, the little girl suddenly stops when her attention is caught—not by the watch, but by something else within the cart.

"What's that?" she asks, pointing a corn-dog-greased finger towards the numerous pieces of papers that basically covered the entire cart.

"That?" he echo, following her line of inquiry.

His heart swell with emotions when his fingertips gently brush along crinkled edges that harbored a world of memories. 

"Ah, these are very special papers," he began, voice taking a softer, more nostalgic tone. "It is a gift from someone very dear to me—my granddaughter."

The mother paused, her interest in the conversation evident by the ensuing silence. She gives a smile and gentle nod, prompting him to continue.

"Quite the remarkable young lady; so strong and kind-hearted. Not around much these days though. Off making the world a better place in her own way..." he shares, pride twinkling within his murky eyes. "Before she left, she gave me those protective talismans. Said it would keep me safe from harm."

Fueled by imagination, the little girl leans closer, eyes wide with wonder. "Like...magic?" she whisper conspiratorially, captivated by the notion.

"Just like magic," he confirms with a chuckle. "Might not understand all that sorcerer stuff, but I do know it's her way of looking after me. And with these old eyes not being what they used to be, this little charm makes me feel safe...like she's still with me watching over my stand even when far away."

Satisfied with the tale and now fully focused on the treat in her hand, the child takes a hearty bite of her corndog causing the two adults around to laugh.

With one final nod of farewell, the woman ushers her daughter back into the carnival's lively embrace, leaving the old man alone with his thoughts.

As he watched their blurry figures merge into the crowd, a bittersweet feeling washed over him. They reminded him of his own family—his late daughter and the granddaughter he cherished.

Shaking off the memories, he began packing up his cart, preparing for the move. Methodically securing the lids on the condiment jars, he—

thump

The old man pauses. The sound was soft, easily missed to the average person amidst the carnival's bustling setting.

But to his trained ear, it was clear as day.

Hands hovering over a jar of mustard, his head slightly tilts, listening for any follow-up noises that might explain the oddity.

Hearing nothing more, he lets curiosity win and investigate. He steps slowly around the cart, his aging eyes scanning the countertops.

In the dimming light it was hard to make out its details, but, he managed to see a cylinder-like object lying on the edge of the cart.

"Hmm, what's this now?" he muttered under his breath, leaning over cautiously to get a closer look.

Though his eyes was not as sharp as they used to be, it...almost looked like a....hotdog?

Then again, it wasn’t uncommon for things to get a bit jumbled during the busy hours—'must've accidentally left it out.'

"Welp. Can't waste good food," he lightly hums, body moving instinctively to retrieved to still salvageable food; the waste not, want not mentality flaring in his mind.

With a gentle hand, he picks up the object. It felt slightly heavier than a typical hotdog, its texture more leathery than smooth.

He brushes the differences off; attributing it to being overexposed to heat. 

Skewering it onto a wooden stick without much thought, he places the hotdog back into the heater next to the others immediately disappearing from sight—and, unbeknownst to him, from the world of Jujutsu sorcerers.

As the door of the hotbox clanged shut, the talismans around it unknowingly casted a veil over the finger, shielding it from magical detection. 

Humming a tune from his youth, the old man pushed his cart to the next location with a smile; blissfully unaware of the chaos his simple action had caused.

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

"Look at this place!" Adora exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Where should we go next?!"

You followed her gaze, taking in the vibrant lights, the colorful booths, and the enticing aromas wafting through the air.

Hours of getting on kiddie rides and walking around and you still haven't gotten enough of it all.

"Bubba! What do you think of the carnival?" you glance down at your brother, whom you affectionately call Bubba (and he mimics back to you), as he's strapped to your chest in a baby carrier.

The toddler looks around with wide, curious eyes, soaking in the lively scene.

"Carni fun!" He babbles, clapping his hands before reaching out to grab at the colorful lights and towering rides.

Adora face flushes as she coos at his reaction. "He's loving this! You made a great choice bringing him along."

As you weave through the crowd, Bubba cutely announces "Hung'y! Wanna eat!" His small fist tugging at your shirt with growing impatience.

Laughing at his sudden proclamation, you looked at Adora with a shrug. "Time for a food break, I guess?"

Adora nods, eyes scanning the rows of food stands.

"There’s a corndog stand just over there. Looks like they’ve got the good, old-fashioned kind," she says, pointing towards the stand with a grin.

You all make your way to the corndog stand, where the scent of fried batter and sweet mustard fills the air.

The old man behind the counter, still humming to himself, turns with a welcoming smile as you approach. "Hello there! What can I serve you today?"

"We'll have two corndogs," Adora says as she hand over some cash, Bubba excitedly echoing her with a cheerful "Two!"

With a nod the old man, movements slow but precise, prepares your order. He opens the hotbox, pulling out three prepared hotdogs on a skewer.

As he dips them into the cornmeal batter, you can't help but notice a subtle tension in the air—almost as if a wave of electricity washed over the carnival. 

You break out of your trance with a nudge from Adora, her smug faced expression coming to view. "Betcha you glad I got your ass up and came out today. Great break from everything...its giving best friend of the year."

Your eyes roll at her antics, instead focusing on Bubba's gibberish with a smile. "I guess you did do your one this time. But seriously though, thanks for dragging us out."

"Anytime! What are besties for?"

Corndogs fried to a golden crisp, the old man hands them over with a bright grin. "Here you youngin's go. Enjoy the carnival~"

You break a piece of bread from the corndog off, giving the toddler something small to digest while keeping the hotdog portion for yourself.

Seizing the moment for a bit of fun, Adora holds up her corndog with a mischievous smile.

"Let's see who can eat theirs the fastest! Loser has to ride the Nightmare Drop," she challenges, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

Bubba gleefully eats what's in his hand, slobbering and chewing messily at the bread.

You agree with a laugh, raising your own corndog. "You’re on."

With that, the both of you quickly bring the corndogs to your mouths and start eating as fast as possible. You’re halfway through, about to take another giant bite, when suddenly, a darkness paints the sky.

The crowd murmurs in confusion as people glance upwards, bewildered at how it could be dark in the middle of the day.

Just as you turn to Adora with questions in your eyes, the ground beneath you shakes violently.

An explosion rocks the carnival, sending shockwaves through the crowd. People start running, scattering in every direction as the festive atmosphere turns to one of fear and panic.

You instinctively clutch Bubba closer to your chest as Adora grips your arm. "What's going on?!" she yells over the cacophony of terrified screams.

"Stay close!" you shout back, pulling her towards what you hope will be a safer spot, away from the frenzied crowd.

People scream as terrifying creatures began to materialize from thin air, their hideous forms sending waves of panic through the carnival.

You and Adora are frozen in fear, wide eyes taking in the otherworldly sight as chaos swirled around.

It wasn't until Bubba’s frightened cries did you snapped out it and you started moving, dragging Adora with you once again.

A towering monster comes into view. Its grotesque form swatting away nearby people like flies when it suddenly began to lumber closer.

Realizing it was targeting your group, you quickly unstrap Bubba from your chest harness and usher the 2 year old to hide behind some nearby rubble.

"Stay right there, Bubba. Don't come out until I tell you!" you whisper, a pang of guilt piercing your chest as you leave him trembling but safe.

It’s just you and Adora now, with the cursed creature looming before you.

Despite being shaky and on the verge of tears, you couldn't help but mutter a small joke. "Damn… I didn't even get a chance to finish my corndog."

Adora turns her gaze to you, frustration and fear written on her face. "Are you shitting me-no you know what? Gone head do it now...might as well have your last fucking supper!"

Voices cut through the panic.

"Where is it, Itadori?!" "It's close… right here!" 

Megumi and Itadori appear on the scene, their faces tense as they survey the battlefield. Their eyes land on the curse's raised hand before flickering to you standing there with the half-eaten corndog in hand.

You lift the half-eaten corndog to the sky with a sigh as if giving a grim toast. Biting down, you accept your fate with a swallow.

Megumi’s eyes widen in horror just as the curse's hand swings down to crush you and Adora.

"WAIT NO!" he screams, "STO—"

An explosion of cursed energy fills the air, blowing the creature's arm off in a burst of smoke and twisted energy.

The curse bellows out in pain, retreating a few steps as it clutches the bleeding stump. Dust swirls around the scene, cloaking everyone in a gray haze.

As the smoke clears, Megumi and Itadori’s faces twist into expressions of shock and confusion.

There you stand, unscathed, as black markings crawl along your brown face. An unsettling gleam fills your eyes, their once striking silver shifting into a deadly blood red.

Your lips curl as a sultry and sadistic laugh erupts from your mouth, echoing through the suddenly still air. 

"AHAHAHA! Finally!" you exclaim, looking down at your hands with glee. "Not the form I'd originally want, but I'll take this over being imprisoned in that brat’s body any day."

Megumi stares, frozen in shock and disbelief. "Oh…"

Itadori watches in stunned silence as the mouth on his cheek, belonging to Sukuna, widens into a big malicious grin. "Shit."

Sukuna's mouth twists into a sinister smirk, the cruel joy unmistakable. "Looks like there was someone else who could survive my power after all."

"Now, all I need to do is kill and absorb that brat's body," you say, pointing at a shocked Itadori, "find the rest of my fingers, regain my full power, and take over this pathetic planet just as I was supposed to thousands of years ago!"

Adora stands frozen, disbelief etched across her face before anger breaks her out of it. "____ are you high? W-what the FUCK are you going on about?!"

Your red eyes snap to her, causing the girl to cower at the weight of your gaze.

Your lips spread into a wicked grin, sharp canines poking out. You raise your hand menacingly. "Perfect. I needed some blood to be spilled anyways… starting to feel like I’m getting too soft."

Just as you're about to swipe at her, Itadori leaps forward and kicks you away. He lands in front of Adora, fists clenched and jaw set.

"Come on, Megumi! We have to stop him before he goes on a rampage." He glances at you, his fist raised in determination. "We got this."

|

|

"Ugh… w-we… don’t got this…" Itadori groans as he struggles to his feet, his breath labored and bruises already forming.

Right beside him laid a bloodied Megumi, barely able to lift his head.

You stride over to them, grabbing both by the collars and hauling them up like grocery bags. They groan at the movement, their faces twisted in pain.

You look at them with a pout, mockingly inspecting them like produce in a store.

"Not bad," you say before your playful demeanor drops with a sneer, "but not good enough." 

Then, with a vicious kick, you send them flying across the dirt. The two boys land painfully, rolling to a stop as they clutch their sides and gasp for breath.

It was then at that moment Gojo and Nobara finally appear.

"So... what's the damage?" Gojo asks, immediately whipping out his phone and pointing it at the battered faces of Megumi and Itadori. He snaps a few quick photos, his smile unwavering.

"Man, you guys are really messed up....the second years would love to see this! Hey Nobara, get in on this!"

"Ain't gotta tell me twice!" Nobara exclaims, squeezing between the injured duo and holding up bunny signs behind their heads with a bright grin much to Megumi’s annoyance.

His eyebrows twitch with irritation as he tries to scowl, but his battered body protests. Had he not been too injured to move, he would swear his foot would be so far up Gojo's a—

"So... did you find it?" Gojo asks casually, seemingly unconcerned about the state of his students.

Then, Megumi does something he's never done before in all the years Gojo has been his guardian: he sheepishly avoids the snow-white haired male's gaze, his lips pursed in a silent refusal to speak.

Gojo was too stunned to speak.

It wasn't until the nervous um of Itadori did the teacher break out of his shock and finally face the pinkette.

"Yes, Itadori? Do you know where the finger is?"

The first-year nervously and points a finger at you. "She… she… ate it."

"...."

"...."

"...."

"For real?" Both Gojo and Nobara ask simultaneously, their faces deadpanned.

"For real," Itadori and Megumi answer in unison.

Nobara shudders at the thought. "Ew! What the HELL is up with you guys?! First this booger-eater and now her?! What? Does the mf taste like teriyaki jerky or something?!" She sticks her tongue out and gags.

"H-Hey! If you must know, I stopped in middle school!" Itadori snaps back defensively.

"Okay!" Gojo clasps his hands with a strained smile. "First off: eww Itadori. Now! Can we please get back to the problem at hand? Was she able to gain back control from Sukuna?"

Receiving a unified shake of heads, the Limitless user release a sigh.

"...guess he really found the perfect vessel. No strings or restrictions whatsoever," Gojo muses before stretching with a grin. "Welp! I guess it’s time to get a little serious."

Adjusting his blindfold, Gojo steps forward, grin growing wider in excitement. "Not really fond of killing such a pretty lady, but duty calls~"

"Wait, wait, wait... WHAT?! You're gonna kill my best friend? The hell you will!" Adora calls out, her voice cracking, but she still steps forward defiantly.

Gojo tilts his head in confusion. "I'm afraid your best friend is dead. If you haven't noticed, she's no longer in control of her body. So we have to kill her, unless you want Sukuna to kill you."

"Enough of this!" you bellow as the powerful aura around you radiates in a mixture of red and blue. Gojo raises an eyebrow curiously—Sukuna's aura should have been entirely red. "Time to rid myself of you like I should have the first time."

Just as the two of you charge forward, ready to collide, a piercing wail cuts through the air. "BUBBA! BUBBAAAAA!"

Your gaze snaps toward the cry, dodging Gojo's attack you freeze mid-step.

"Bubba? [Brother name]?" The tattoos on your face slowly begin to fade, confusion etching across your features.

A snarl emerges from Itadori's cheek, Sukuna's voice seething with disbelief. "What? NO! IMPOSSIBLE. Not only the brat, but you too?!"

You start looking around frantically, searching for the source of the cry. "[Brother's name]!"

"BUBBAAAA!" The cry rings out again, and your head snaps toward the direction only to see the same curse from earlier, this time holding your little brother as it prepares to swallow him.

Horror washes over your face, and you release a gut-wrenching scream, "[BROTHER NAME]!"

A powerful burst of blue aura explodes around you as you sprint across the ground, leaping up in time to pull your little brother into your arms just as he drops into the curse's mouth.

Your momentum carries both of you down into the gaping jaws, and the curse swallows you whole.

For a moment, silence falls over the scene, everyone trying to process what just happened:

The curse happily rubs its bloated belly, gleefully muttering a "yummy yummy" in satisfaction.

Adora lets out a scream of disbelief, slowly sinking down to the ground in shock.

Itadori, Nobara, and Megumi could only stare, their eyes wide while Gojo scratches the side of his head with a bemused expression. "Well shit...that just happened."

Moments after his words hang in the air, the curse stops moving. Its eyes widen in sudden panic as its body begins to swell uncontrollably.

Right before it bursts, it utters a confused, "Uh wh—"(uh oh).

The curse's body explodes, energy rippling through the area with strong winds. When the dust finally settles, steam rises up from the newly made crater in the ground.

And in the place where the exorcised curse once was stood you, with Bubba securely attached to your chest in his baby strap.

A swirling aura of red and blue surrounds you, one eye glowing crimson while the other shines silver.

You look down to see Bubba already gazing up at you, his chubby hands grabbing your face as he coos softly, "Bubba, Bubba."

"Once again... that just fucking happened."

#k-nayee traveler #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fandom #jjk fanfic #jjk oneshot #jjk reader insert #jjk itadori #jjk writing #itadori x reader #megumi x reader #nobara x reader #jjk x you #reader x various #reader insert #x reader #satoru gojo #yuuji itadori x reader #itadori yuji x reader #yuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi x you #humor #oc x canon #oc x anime #nobara kugisaki

[trigunwritings]

helo ur works have been a delight to read so far and may i please request a stampede wolfwood x wife reader??? 👀👀👀 reader is a sniper and they got separated during a massive shoot out. wolfwood is looking for her while traveling with the gang and when wolfwood reunites with his wifey- everyones just shook cuz ‘ur married???’ lmao please thank you so muchhhshs!! 🤩🤩

(bonus if wolfwood is handsy or obsessed with his wife pls ahshd 😍)

In the oppressive midday heat, there weren’t all that many people milling about the main roadway of the town. It was a small place, without a plant of its own but stuck between two larger cities that were each a day or two’s worth of a drive either direction.

So in other words, the only place to charge up a vehicle after it goes dry and residents fully prepared to jack up the price twofold or more.

Wolfwood wasn’t unfamiliar with the strict rules of the landscape; without a way to produce their own goods, the main source of income for a town like this seemed to be in travelers passing through and staying long enough to empty a few bottles then spend an extra day recovering from a hangover. A fair business strategy, all things considered.

But the man wasn’t interested in vices like that at the moment. Despite the appearance of loafing around next to the old man’s truck, Wolfwood was in fact on guard duty. He was to make sure none of the locals got any stupid ideas while the others found a place they could charge it up and grab a few extra supplies for the next stretch of desert. It was sweltering even under the shade casted by the vehicle, but it was still better than roaming around the town all day—Wolfwood was still absolutely exhausted from having to help push the damn thing the last couple miles.

He had earned a chance to sit down and do fuck all.

Besides, his appearance did well enough to keep even the most curious of teenaged boys a fair distance away. Who would in their right mind think to antagonize a man dressed in all-black, wearing sunglasses, and carrying around a giant cross?

In fact, the man felt so comfortable in his natural source of deterrence that he was almost tempted to close his eyes and take a nap. That is, until—

A flicker of motion in his vision. It caught his attention, but it took his brain a few seconds to catch up with exactly what he saw. Could it—? No, he must have been seeing things. He stared at the doors of the saloon across the street, watching them rock back and forth from the motion of someone stepping inside just a moment before. Someone familiar.

-

The bar is relatively quiet, which isn’t uncommon for that time of day. Most folk came in shortly after sundown when the air cooled off and the wind felt lighter, but you’d gotten used to the peace of helping to clean everything up for another night of drunken travelers—much like when you had first wandered into the town, but the mechanic still doesn’t have the parts for your bike and you don’t have money for the parts. Didn’t help that the caravans coming through never had room to take on another body.

So there you are, stuck in the literal middle of the eastern patch, having to clean tables and keep drunk men from fighting one another inside the saloon to make enough money to try and get out of town.

It’s been over a month since the shootout. Though the memory is a bit hazy around the edges, you can still feel the rapid thump of your heart and the sounds of shrieking bullets flying past your head. The last time you had seen—

“Hey there-“

A man’s voice was the first to set off your instincts, the second being his hand pressing down upon your shoulder. Without meaning to you whirl around and immediately thrust out your arms at the same moment that you’re kicking his legs out from beneath him—the man crumples like paper as you fall on top of him in such a way that he’s pinned to the ground and unable to get up.

Keep the wrists apart, knees against the hips and they can’t pivot back up-

“Nicholas?!”

It’s like you’ve seen a ghost.

“Hello to you too babe,” he wheezes, and in that same breath you’re scrambling off of his body and trying to help him back onto his feet. “Lose you for a few weeks and that’s the kinda greeting I get?”

Though his humor makes you smile, you huff indignantly, “What do you expect me to do when someone sneaks up behind me?”

A moment passes, letting the two of you glance over your bodies in something of a habit. He hasn’t lost any limbs it seemed, nor gotten any major injuries since last seeing him—none that he hadn’t already healed with those vials of his. But before you can say out loud how grateful you are that he’s okay, the man—your husband—quickly wraps his arms around you in a hug so tight that it’s almost hard to breathe.

“So happy you’re safe,” he murmurs, lips near your ear and fingertips curling into the fabric of your shirt. “Thought I’d lost you. Couldn’t figure out what direction you went, didn’t see any tracks and thought…”

The words trail off. You return his hug, arms clinging to him in a desperate and grateful moment of relief.

“I’m okay,” the words are murmured into his shoulder. “Was chased for a bit before I finally got a good line of sight, and by the time I was able to walk back you were already gone.”

Wolfwood releases you only so that his hands can reach up and cup your face against his palms. Thumbs brush idly over your cheeks, and even behind the dark lenses of his glasses, you know that he’s looking at you in a way only noticed from sneaky glances and during the intense pleasure of lovemaking. Looking at you with so much love that it almost hurts.

“We’re together again,” he says, then presses his lips to yours in a kiss so quick and desperate that it steals the breath from your lungs. For a moment you think that he’s going to press on further, hands settling needily over your hips and his body crowding yours backwards until a table edge hits the back of your knees.

And then there’s a new voice—outside and distant, but the sound of it makes Nicholas go still all of a sudden.

“Ah fuck, I forgot about the damn truck.”

“The truck?” you ask curiously, raising a brow as he pulls himself away from you reluctantly.

“Long story, but let me come introduce you to the group I’m movin’ around with.”

Hand-in-hand, the two of you step out of the saloon’s swinging doors to see a truck parked across the sandy street, three people stepping around it as if searching for something in confusion. One is an older man, the second a young woman and the third a man with the brightest red jacket you’ve ever seen. He is the first one to turn his attention towards both of you, bright eyes blinking behind golden glasses.

“There he is! Yo, Wolfwood, weren’t you supposed to be with the truck?”

“Something unexpected came up,” he says, gesturing with his free hand towards you. “Want you all to meet my wife.”

The blonde stares at him, and then at you, his expression getting more and more tense in a way you couldn’t describe. Was it disgust? No—maybe confusion? His eyes look between you and Nicholas again, then towards the building behind you.

“What in the world were you doing in the saloon to get married in half an hour?”

#trigun #trigun stampede #trigun x reader #writing #sfw #fic #sfw fic #wolfwood x reader #wolfwood fic #sfw writing #nicholas wolfwood #wolfwood: ah i finally reunited with my wife in a random saloon time to bone on the table #you know he would tho

[cannibalcoyote]

Matt Smith: Two Face

Imagine filming a fairly violent scene with Matt Smith for House of the Dragon, what happens when you have trouble distinguishing kind-hearted Matt from cruel Daemon:

The scene wasn't supposed to be taking this long, it was meant to be quick, but the director has us repeating it a multitude of times. Something about it not being as good as it could be. I, honestly, couldn't care less how good it was as long as it was over.

My character, though not the most important, plays a role in how Daemon manages to steal the dragon egg and escape to Dragonstone. I was cast as Rhaenyra's younger sister, Seraena, who had quite the different relationship with her uncle. Where Rhaenyra saw freedom and future my character saw terror.

Daemon systematically terrorized Seraena as he viewed her to be unworthy of the Targaryen legacy, unworthy to be the rider of the vicious Cannibal.

Daemon would inflict pain upon her when the option was available, mentally terrorizing her even more-so. These abusive interactions were kept a secret from the rest of the family though, as she was not in the favor of her father or sister; she was alone.

I've been an actress for many years, and oftentimes get stuck in the mindset of my characters, but nothing as severe as with Seraena. I would only notice minor changes, usually just in my vocabulary and way of speaking, but I've become so engrained in this character that it's becoming harder for me to distinguish other actors from their characters. 

The effects are minimal with most others, but with Matt... His character is so cruel and violent that I just can't help it. If Matt raises his hand or makes any quick movements, I can't stop myself from flinching away, and I know he's noticed it as well. The concerned looks, the way his eyes linger when I step away from him, how I suddenly have nothing to say when he joins my conversation.

I try to work through this, write about it, acknowledge how what I'm doing isn't healthy, that I know Matt is a really sweet person in reality; but whenever I see him, I can't help this urge of wanting to turn and run away. How could he have such a sweet expression on his face one second, and then an empty glare the next?

_______

Fingers roughly grasp the wig upon my head, I can tell he's trying to be gentle, but he still has to make the interaction seem realistic.

He had asked me beforehand if I was alright with the physical contact the scene required, I had nodded a 'yes' even though the nausea reminded me constantly how I had wanted to say no.

The scene we were filming has Daemon battering me as a way to gain information pertaining to the dragon egg for Viserys' unborn child. It wasn't the most violent scene to have occurred between our characters, but I would say it was the most emotionally charged. 

Threats of violence slithering from Matt's lips far to smoothly for my mind to distinguish. His hand gripping my neck as his fingers laced through my hair and pulled my head back. He was right behind me, body scarily close as I was sandwiched between him the the stone wall of the castle. I can't remember what I was doing, body running on autopilot; I spoke, but I can't remember if they were my lines or not.

There was a tremor spiraling through my body, settling in my hands as they shakily grasped the hand that strangled my neck. Was I supposed to do that? Would they make me reshoot this scene? 

"Cut!" That resounding word echoes through my mind, lights being turned back on to illuminate the area. The many faces of the other cast members as well as the film crew entered my vision. It was a scene, it was a scene. 

The hands were removed as I turned to look at Matt, that cruel emptiness was gone, replaced by his calm face, eyes looking at me with worry.

"Hey, are you alright?" I couldn't respond, as I had already turned away and began to walk hurriedly away towards the bathrooms. My heart felt uneasy, as though the blood being pumped wasn't enough, I felt like I was dying.

I slammed the door shut, leaning forward against the sink as I glared into the mirror. 'You're not her, you're not Seraena, you're Y/N L/N. He's not Daemon, he's Matt! He has never hurt you, this is all for a show.' 

I raise my hand up, touching my neck gently, as though the skin would tear at the slightest contact. The shaking of my hand bringing up an anger I was unsure how to handle. I couldn't contain it, my hands curling around my neck as I glare at my reflection.

My fingers dig into my skin as I drag them down, relishing in the discomfort I experience, but my hands still shake. I hit my wrists against the sink, ignoring the shooting pain as they still shake. Resorting to biting my hand, not letting go until I taste blood. When I release, I let out an angered yell as the shaking continues. I place one hand against the sink and hit it repeatedly with the other, eliciting a crushing sensation that I repeat with the other. 

I had no intentions of stopping, but soon realize that my actions are being hindered. Two hands are holding my own with a firm grip, halting their violent actions. I look in the mirror and see none other than Matt stood behind me, concern emanating heavily from him. He is speaking to me, I know this because his lips are moving, but what is he saying? What words does he think will help me?

I can't help the immense torture I'm experiencing, the tears building within my eyes as the feeling in my legs disappears; I would've collapsed had Matt not been there. My sobs were awful, the pain and confusion filling my mind as I was being held and comforted by a sweet man that I could not distinguish.

His arms were strong as they wrapped around my torso, though they were soft, steady. He had lowered us down to the floor gently, cradling me to his chest as we sat on the bathroom floor. His whispers were calming, though I could not tell what was said. 

Was this man the devil? Was he who I feared yet longed for, the man that could free me from deception? Or am I all that I should fear, do I make my prison with the words I learn, she who lives within porcelain walls that sees enemies in her own reflection?

#cannibalcoyote #daemon #daemon targaryen #daemon targeryan #daemon x rhaenyra #daemon x niece #angst #house of the dragon gif #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #matt smith x reader #matt smith #female reader #celebrity reader #self harm #dissociation #questioning identity #identity crisis #matt smith x scared reader #actress reader #female insert #platonic #sad #daemon angst #the rogue prince #rhaenyra targaryen #viserys targaryen #house of the dragon cast

[pillowfriendly]

15 lines of dialogue

Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

tagged by @ferrocyan yayayay yippyyy ^^ tagging @smallest-turtle and viewers like you

(coming back to the top to say i definitely did more than just the spoken lines because i misunderstood the prompt. my official stance on this is: whatever. eat my shorts)

---

The man scrambled back further, waving his spoon. “Are you going to rob me?”

“Um.” She conducted a brief inventory of his few belongings and glanced at the single scraggly chocobo. “No?”

---

“My mothers mostly told me forest stories, so I don’t know much about the ocean. But it seems… big… there?” She winced. Jude frowned at her.

“Too much water,” she added, desperate. This was a conversation. She was making conversation.

---

“Does it always have to be so hard?” She spoke to Fray, but would have liked to pose the question to several gods, too.

---

He backpedaled, holding his arm close. The saber lay at his feet, yet he didn’t reach for it. He wasn’t even trying. Why did that make it worse? “Do you even want to live at all?” Fray said. Kethry said.

---

“Yeah, we’ll go out. Unless you can trace the aetheric signature of defensive constructs. Or whatever that last scholar was talking about.”

“Kweh.”

“Me neither.”

---

She threw up her hands. “What for? If there’s something that needs killed again, I’ll get it out of your way. Happy?” She shook grit from her log and stood. “If I can’t do anything else, I’d like to do my job without busybodies.”

---

He thumbed his chin. “Still, the fact that she changed plumage, I assume after she reached full maturity, might make her something of a scientific anomaly.”

Kethry’s ears flattened. “An anomaly? That’s so! So!” she sputtered. “That’s so rude! She’s a good bird!”

“I’m not saying she’s not,” he said, in a tone somewhere between confusion and amusement. His eyes landed on a fin stuck to Phoebe’s beak. “Perhaps it was induced by dietary changes?”

“She’s just blue! Don’t be mean!” Kethry struggled to scramble into the saddle and maintain disapproving eye contact at the same time.

---

“There’s something like this up in Coerthas too. They say it came down when the moon fell. Saw an Echo of it happening first time I came here.” She waved his question away before he could ask. “I get these… past visions, sometimes. Side effect of the Echo. Don’t worry about it. Anyway, this whole thing formed ’cause of the impact.” She narrowed her eyes and tossed him the arrows. “But don’t stand there thinking about what it all means. That’s on your own time.”

---

This arrow flew true, but a twirl of her staff knocked it out of the air. “No, she just has Limsa. For now.”

“Has Limsa.” He drew several arrows to fire in succession. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

She turned to avoid the first shot. “It’s hers.” Ducked under the second. “She can use it.” Sent the next skittering and sparking along the crystal. “Get people to do things.” Startled him by leaping over the fourth with a dragoon’s high jump, and aimed for the fifth on the return. It zipped under her—she swung for it and missed, landing with a thud on the field. “She takes a cut for organizing trade. Makes the fleet sail here or there. But if she messes it up, or pulls too much…” She opened her hands and dropped the staff, then kicked it back up to herself. “Someone will take it from her. And if that can happen, she’s not really in charge of it, see? It’s a tool she can use while she’s got it. Or something.”

---

“Mmbwuh,” said Kethry.

---

“It doesn’t…” She scrunched up her face, then made a waving motion. “When Alphinaud and Y’shtola cast spells, you can feel their aether move when they weave it, and it goes like, fwoosh. But when I try to shape mine into a sigil, or anything like that, it’s like pulling on an anchor rode. Doesn’t move.”

---

“I just. When I lived here. We were hunting, the kids. I mean, we were kids, not that we were hunting any. It was the first time I was supposed to lead. And we ran into one of those, a boar, they grow too big here, and we should have ran, but I tried to take it down anyway, and—” She shook her head, to try and shake out the memory, too. “It got my cousin. Tore her right open.”

---

Still, he’d been whiny about it. “Since when have you gotten so demanding?” he panted.

“Since I decided we were friends.”

His ears flicked. “Oh? And when was that?”

She folded her hands over his head and rested her own on top of them while she considered. “Right now? A while ago? I dunno. I'm hungry, though.”

---

She shook her head, flicking water about as she did so. “The only reason not to help people is if you can't. And you should be sure that you really can’t, not just that it might be hard. Anyway, I know the Echo doesn’t work like that, probably. That's why it's stupid.”

---

Kethry laughed. “You kidding? Of course we can.” She leaned out to look up the incline, then rolled an eye over her shoulder at him. Her grin had too many teeth. “Monsters this big rely on having more power than you, and that's usually enough. It can try to hit us, sure. But it can't fight.”

#*holds up kethry* baby u r my #ANGELLLLLL #ffxiv #tag game #wheehehehehe

[imnotjaesblog]

Pose

Starring- Kim Jungwoo

Surprise! Thought I’d write something short for you guys while you wait for Summer Love!

Model AU

Warnings: Smut, Semi Dom Y/n, Semi Sub Jungwoo, Older Y/n, Both are over 18, Brief mention of camera, oral (f.receiving). Fluff at the end mostly, Jungwoo is down bad for Y/n.

2k Words

“Bring in the next one,” you said to the scrawny boy in the corner. He bowed walking away to get the next boy. Fixing your glasses that began to slide down your nose you fixed your stack of papers clicking your pen waiting for the next model.

The whole day you and your partner had been scouting models for a up coming campaign. You needed forty models and so far you had only found twenty two. eleven girls down and eleven boys leaving eighteen more to pick from the hundreds that had auditioned. You were not only in charge of choosing a model but also the designer of the clothes that would be modeled at an event your brother was holding later this fall.

So many came and go eager to work for you. Being able to model one of your designs would be life changing even for a super model. You were always so picky about who you wanted to model the clothes. If you looked at a model and could instantly in-vision them in your mind wearing the outfit then they were yours, if not they were not selected red simple as that.

A boy walked into the room behind your assistant. He bowed to you and the other casting director beside you. Both of you eyeing the boy who’s knees shook under the bright light hanging above him. Your finger tapped your chin. You couldn’t picture him in anything so far. He walked back and fourth, his walk was okay. He was still a rookie you thought. When he finished his final turn you had came to the conclusion that he wouldn’t fit your image. Your partner agreed sending him away kindly.

You sighed rubbing your temples. You were never going to find someone. Debating to yourself whether or not to leave and hold this off until tomorrow was tempting but you stayed waiting for the next model to come in.

When he walked in he was already more confident then the last model which is something you liked. Some people mistakes cockiness for confidence. You hated when people acted as if their shit didn’t stink. You liked the boy who walked back and fourth modeling for you. Your eyes followed him picturing him in many different types of clothes. You also may have pictured him naked.

“Why don’t you turn for me?” You asked politely twirling your finger around. He did as you were food turning around allowing you to see the frame of his body. You nodded to yourself liking what you saw.

“Tell me darling what was your name again?” You asked leaning back in your chair interested in the man.

“Kim Jungwoo,” he responded confidently. You took in his name letting it remain in your brain. You tapped your partner to write his name down. He did as well as some other important notes. You looked away from his paper back at Jungwoo.

“You should find out later today,” you said smiling. You were already going to pick him but he had to wait like everyone else. You can’t have people thinking you were interested in your model. He smiled proud of himself for making it past the audition. He bowed leaving the room thanking you for your time. You thanked him for coming watching him leave.

“Just one more,” your partner Johnny said sipping his coffee. You looked towards the door nodding, “Yes one more,” the door opening and closing caught your attention. You watched the young man walk to the runway. He walked back and fourth perfectly. You smiled enjoying his walk.

“What was your name again?” You asked.

“Lee Jeno,” you decided you’d pick him too.

——

“Okay thank you all for making it. It was a tough decision but we were able to narrow it down to forty of you,” the director said holding a clip board speaking to the ten models lined up to try on the different clothes. You stood in front of them as well watching as some tried to hold their excitement. Their idol was standing in the same room as them, they couldn’t believe it.

“We don’t have much time so we need to get to work, okay?” The director Irene said to them. They all nodded saying in unison, “Yes Ma’am” you smiled watching them all get to their positions. Today was a practice of what the show would look like. You for the first time would be present for every single rehearsal and fitting since you had very important business to attend to here. Your eyes followed Jungwoo who stood getting measured and fitted. You walked over shoeing the ladies who fitted him away. They reacted quickly fleeing to another model.

“Hello Jungwoo right?” You asked already knowing his name. You just wanted his reaction. He nodded taking in a breath. You being here created tension for everyone. They all wanted to perform well in front of you, Jungwoo one of those people. “Yes that’s me,” he said shyly looking away at his hands, playing with his thumbs. You nodded pursing your lips checking out the boy.

“My name is Y/n-“

“Yeah I know, we all do. Your a legend,” he complimented starstruck. He couldn’t believe he was talking to you. Rather you talking to him. You knew of his existence now. You knew his name which meant you knew him. He was honored to be in your presence.

You chuckled smiling at him. “A legend? Legends never die” you say looking deeply into his eyes. You could see him start to get nervous as you drew closer. “Eventually I will get old and die,” you said nonchalant. He nodded, “Of course I’m sorry if I-“

“You didn’t offend me. Can I be honest?” You asked lowly. He nodded his eyes watching your every moment yet missing when your hands reached out to him.

“I like you. I think you will perform well here. Why don’t you become my muse?” You asked causing the poor boy to almost fall to his knees. At this point he’d do anything you asked him too. He had waited so long for this moment. Barely registering the question he nodded his head blindly following you out the room you were both in.

“Words darling,” you said watching him swallow hard. “Yes I’ll be your muse,” he agreed cursing at himself for being so weak. You had a trance over him that he couldn’t figure out. His eyes followed your eyes to your lips, to the natural curve of your body. He always knew you were beautiful but the cameras did you no justice. In real life you were stunning. No makeup on your face to cover your blemishes or ache scars. It was just you standing naturally beautiful in front of him and he thought he would melt.

“Good choice,” you said smirking. You took your phone out of your purse handing it to him. Using your eyes to point to the contact information when he didn’t move. He took the phone hesitantly from your hands putting his number in your phone. You smiled gratefully taking your phone back saving his information.

“I’ll text you,” you said blowing him a kiss. That almost killed him. When you left you finally let out a breath he had no clue he was holding. He turned away looking into the mirror seeing how red his face was. His lips inches away from his skin. He’d only dream of kissing you. A fan meeting their idol/celebrity crush wasn’t something that happened everyday. Everyone at home knew Jungwoo not only respected your work as an artist but if given the opportunity would love to take out on a date.

He thought after your interaction today that maybe he would be able to pull that off.

—-

Y/n- Hey darling

Read

Jungwoo- Hello Ms.Y/L

…

Y/n- Please call me Y/n

Jungwoo wasn’t sure on how he felt calling you by your name. He had said your name a thousand times before but you being his boss it felt different this time. However he did want you to like him, he wanted to prove he was a good model so he did whatever you asked him and whatever he thought you would like.

Jungwoo- Okay I’ll try my best!

Read

Y/n- May I ask a personal question?

Read

Jungwoo- Yes of course

Read

Y/n- What is your age?

Jungwoo- twenty five.

You needed to make sure he wasn’t to young if you planned on fooling around with him.

Y/n- May I another personal question?

Jungwoo- Yes

Y/n- How do you feel about older girls?

Jungwoo- I don’t mind

He assumed you were talking about yourself. Truthfully he didn’t mind an age gap, you weren’t even that much older than him.

Y/n- Meet at my place at ten tomorrow morning. I’m working on a design and I could use you.

Read

Jungwoo- I’ll be there

——

A knock at your door halted your sketching. You looked to the side at one of your house employees. They walked over to the door opening it revealing another house staff. They both discussed them disbursed.

“Ma’am the boy is here to see you,” he approached you with the news. You smiled excitedly, “Send him in” the boy nodded bowing before he went to fetch Jungwoo.

When he returned Jungwoo walked ahead of him the house staff walking behind him. When he stepped inside he went to close the door but you shook your head. Waving your hand at the boy, “Leave us,” you said. The boy bowed opening the door and leaving. “Would you mind locking the door? I do not want to be disturbed,” you said to Jungwoo who complied. He walked over to the wooden door locking it. When he returned back to your studio you motioned your hand to come closer.

He was so nervous. He felt like his legs could barely move. He couldn’t believe he was in your studio the place you came up with the legendary designs for both men and women. He could see some of those designs on your wall photographed by photographers over the years. He saw your men suit collection from 2014. He saw your wedding dresses from 2012 photographed on the wall. He starred at them in awe like an art student seeing their favorite painting in real life for the first time.

“Do you like what you see?” You asked admiring the boy who’s eyes glowed seeing your past work. He nodded not removing his eyes from the walls. He smiled seeing photos of you from your modeling days before you became a world renowned designer. You’ve worked with Prada, Dior, Vivienne westwood and so many more. You were truly one of the greats.

“Like it? I love it,” he responded. You smiled standing up for your seat leaning Agassi on your desk fixing your glasses. “Your a fan?” You asked and he nodded still in awe. Once he realized he was starring for to long he cleared his throat. Fixing his posture he dusted himself off finally looking at you. “Forgive me I couldn’t help myself-“

“No need to apologize. I would probably act the same if I were in a room with someone I loved,” you said honestly. You wanted him to feel comfortable around you. His plumped pink lips formed a smile. A part of him still excited to be here with you.

“Now come here,” you said motion to the front of your desk. He walked Obed rather quickly almost banging into the table. “Sorry,” he said embarrassed. You chuckled sitting down opening your book. At least he made you laugh he thought. “I have an idea but I’d like to draw it on you, is that okay?” You asked lips pursing at you stared into his eyes. He swallowed his throat becoming dry. “Yes that’s fine,” was all he managed to say to you. Your stare was so imitating. He felt like one wrong move or word and he’d ruin everything. He wanted to be good for you.

After some time you decided it was time for a break. You never over worked yourself your manger had given you a good piece of advice. “No matter how hard you work, if you get hurt the job will always move on without you” that stuck with your for a very long time.

“We can take a break,” you told the boy who nodded fiddling with his fingers. You smiled motioning him to come over. He stood tall in front of you as you remained in your seat. You pulled up a chair not to far away from your hand. You tapped it signaling him to sit down which he did. You crossed one leg over the other while eyeing the young man. You bit you lip watching his fingers dance around his shakey legs. “Jungwoo,” you called. He looked up into your glossy eyes.

“Yes”

“Are you nervous?” You teased hands clasping together waiting for his response.

He nodded his throat dryer than before.

“Words darling,” you commanded softly.

“I am,” he responded already feeling himself lose to you.

“When I said I liked you I didn’t only mean you had talent,” you began. You watched as his chest moved up and down just a little faster. He wiped his hands on his jeans startled. “What did you mean?” He asked quietly. You smirked your pink lips pursing.

“I think your handsome,” you complimented. It was true you did find him handsome. Which only helped your attraction to him. “Jungwoo,” you called again. Man did his name sound so good coming from your tongue. He stared at you watching your every move. He was ready for whatever you were going to give or tell him. Your legs uncrossed spreading apart. You were wearing a medium size loose skirt. You began to lift it up your legs stopping at the hem of your thighs. Jungwoo watched intensely not wanted to miss a single move.

“Yes,” he said feeling his mouth remain slightly opened probably drooling at the sight of you. You smiled feeling your body get warmer. You started to unbutton your top stopping at the button in the middle letting the outline of your breast show. Jungwoo felt like exploding, you weren’t wearing a bra.

“You said you didn’t mind older women right?” You teased speaking softly to Jungwoo. He nodded licking his lips. “Yes,” you sighed frustrated, “I think I need your help,” you said touching one of the buttons on your blouse. Jungwoo watched you pull on the button trying to remove it. You chuckled taking it off exposing your chest to the boy. He sucked in a breath his mouth dry. “Why don’t you help me?” You asked spreading your legs for him. He stood from his seat his legs guiding himself to you sitting in your glory. You gripped his shoulder sending him down to his knees. He knelt in front of you anticipating your every move.

“Will you be good for me?” You asked massaging his shoulders rubbing into the skin. His eyes shut enjoying the feeling of your fingers on him. Letting out a groan when you you rubbed on a tight spot. You rubbed harder watching his face change his brows furrowing as you massaged the knot in his right shoulder. He nodded licking his lips.

“Words darling, I want to hear you,” you said continuing your motions on his shoulders. He huffed releasing a warm breath into the air. He opened his eyes staring into yours that were already looking at his. “Yes I want to help you. I want to be good for you,” he pleaded. You removed your hands from his shoulders taking your right hand a placing it at the bottom of his chin. You pulled him closer lifting his face to yours and placing your lips on his. He immediately kissed back savoring the taste of your lips on his. He felt like he was dreaming. You were apart of his many fantasies as a young boy and now he was here living the reality as a man.

Your tongue swiped his bottom lip. He didn’t even fight opening his mouth to you letting the kiss become hot and messy. You pulled him closer your legs on the side of his body. His hand laid on your thighs squeezing and pulling you closer to his body. Your hands placed in his soft brown hair and around his neck taking in his lips and the citrus scent of his cologne. He released himself from your lips looking deeply into your eyes. “Can I taste you?” He asked. You nodded pushing yourself back and bringing your skirt up more to expose your bare pussy to him. Glistening in the light he licked his lips feeling himself get harder in his pants. He placed your legs on either side of the chair spreading you for him. Bringing his wet lips closer he kissed and sucked on your inner thighs.

“Don’t be a tease darling, take what you want,” you said watching him from below you. He groaned seeing the sight of your wet pussy. One of his hands creeping down his body to squeeze himself trying to control his mind and body from going completely feral. He licked a long swipe on your slit causing you to shudder. Proud of himself for making you weaker even though he was beneath you he licked your clit again sucking on the bundle of nerves. You tried to hold back your moans not wanting him to know how good he was making you feel. It would get to his pretty little head. But you couldn’t help it. His warm, wet mouth felt so good devouring your core. "Jungwoo you're doing so well for me," You praised through half a moan, your hand pulling on his hair. The praise only made his tongue move faster sliding it in and out of your wet hole. His fingers found their way to the pussy spreading your folds. His slender finger moved inside you while his tongue moved back to your clit.

You came all over his mouth soaking the bottom half of his face. When he continued his moments on your overly sensitive clit you pulled his head back by his hair. His forehead is exposed to your strong grip. The sunlight from your large window shining on his lips and his chin glistened with your slick. You pulled him forward by his hair and he complied. Letting his arms dangle before him and his knees remain on the ground. You brought your lips close to his inches away from each other.

"Jungwoo my darling can you do me another favor?" You slurred high off his mouth. He nodded eyes looking deeply into yours. His hands placed themselves on your exposed thighs. "Anything," He said sincerely.

"Get undressed and fuck me," You said through a seductive smile. He stood up undoing his belt tossing it to another part of the studio. He removed his shirt bringing it over his head and tossing it away with your blouse. He undid his jeans sliding them down along with his boxers. He pumped his length in his hand waiting for your command.

“Fuck me on my desk,” you said licking your tongue. He smiled taking your hand wiping all your sketches and pencils away. Spreading your legs open for him as he came in between you. Jungwoo felt like the luckiest man alive. You pulled him forward into a passionate kiss both of you lost in each others embrace. You pulled away leaning over to dig in your draw pulling out a condom. Ripping the package open rather quickly you placed the condom on his dick.

His rubbed dick through your folds circling your clit with his his tip. Biting his lip he watched your wetness soak the condom. He hopes to fuck you one day without it. Until then he’ll fuck you with it on if it means he gets to be here with you. “Jungwoo darling stop teasing and put it in,” you slurred knocking over some pencils trying to balance. He pushed the head of cock into your wet hole. His cock inching inside your pussy slowly your velvet walls sucking him. You bit your lip feeling the burn it had been so long since you last slept with someone, ever since your divorce you haven’t really gone out much. Taking the time to work on your designs.

You didn’t realize how much you missed the feeling of someone inside you.

“That’s it baby,” you praised working him through it. His dick say fully inside you waiting for you to let him know he could move. After the initial burn started to fade you tapped his thigh signaling him to go. His hips moved at a normal speed at first turning the pain into pleasure. You tapped him letting him know to move faster. He fucked into you harder and faster, “Darling don’t hold back,” you pleaded smirking as his jaw fell opened groans escaping his plumped lips as he finally fucked you.

“You feel so good,” he praised watching as his dick disappeared into your clenching hole. He felt you squeeze against him. If you kept doing that he’d cum to fast. His eyebrows furrowed trying to hold in his release for as long as he could. It was hard to not let go while being inside you. You wrapped around him delicious like your pussy was made for him. Wet sounds could be heard all around the studio. The sound of skin slapping against the desk as the morning became the afternoon. You held onto the desk tightly your knuckles turn white. Your mouth agape watching Jungwoo intensely lost in your own haze of pleasure. Jungwoo’s hands on placed on your hips fucking you into the wooden desk. He brought one of his fingers down to rub circles on your clit matching the speed of his thrust. You threw your head back in bliss. Letting out moans and whines as he fucked you.

He lifted you up turning you around bending you over the desk. He grabbed a piece of your hair pulling it back forming a ponytail. His other hand placed directly on your hip. You held onto the end of your desk your back arching magnificently. Beads of sweat fell down mouth of your bodies the air in the room becoming thinner and warm. Your mouth became dry from all the moaning your were doing. You were sure the house staff heard you, Jungwoo as well. He leaned down close to your ear. You could hear his groans directly like little whispers. They were only meant for your ears.

“Am I doing good?” He asked through groans and hard breaths. “Am I fucking you right?” He asked repeating his motions. You nodded licking your lips turning your head slightly to face him his duck still moving inside you. “So good darling. Your fucking me so well,” you praised. The praise went straight from his head to his dick fucking into even harder. You could feel your body squish against the desk your ribs hitting the desk but you didn’t care. He felt to good inside you to stop. Jungwoo pulled your hair back harder lifting the front of your body up your back pressing against his sweaty front.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moaned Jungwoo groaning into your ear. He reached around your waist circling the bundle of nerves helping you to reach your orgasm. You came moaning out loud and soaking the condom. You clenched and unclenched around him bringing Jungwoo to his climax soaking up the condom. He slowly pulled out of you taking the condom off. He tied it and threw it in the trash bin nearby. He walked over to the tissue box cleaning you up and himself. He helped you get dressed, then got dressed himself. He picked up the things he threw on the floor placing them back on your desk neatly.

You smiled watching him your index finger playing with your lips. He glowed in the afternoon sun. His skin sun kissed from the light that shined through your large windows. The way his lips curved upwards when he noticed you were watching him. He looked so beautiful. You couldn’t help but walk over to your camera. You lifted the device pointing it at him.

“Pose,” is all you said before he turned his head and you snapped a picture.

This picture would be one of many that you would take. Some would see public eye at campaigns and events. Some would see it on social media. Some only family would see.

And some only you’d see in the private of your own home with your muse, Kim Jungwoo.

Fin.

Hope you enjoyed thank you so much for reading. Small Update on Summer Love starring Jaehyun i am having a hard time coming up with a idea. I don’t want to do the same old thing so I’m really trying to come up with something different. I’m working on the story currently dedicating some time to it , so stay tuned for that!

Until then I hope you enjoy and look out for more surprise fics! :)

#fanfic #kpop angst #nct fanfic #nct scenarios #nct smut #fluff #fluff kpop #kpop smut #light angst #nctzen #jungwoo #kim jungwoo #nct x reader #nct imagines #nct u #nct fluff #nct angst #nct jungwoo #nct kim jungwoo #nct dream #lee jeno #short story #love #smut #fluffkpop #modeltype #kpop #imagine #story #love story

[freesia-writes]

Chapter 9: Interception

During the Clone Wars, the Bad Batch is tasked with a variety of missions across the galaxy. An unexpected addition to their team throws a wrench in the mix, particularly for Tech, who finds a particular connection with this disillusioned Padawan-turned-mechanic named Vel throughout the events in this action-adventure romance.

COVER ART BY @zaana!! And this was my first fanfic ever, y'all! :D

Master List of Chapters

Months passed, giving Vel plenty of time to find a suitable rhythm in the Coruscant underworld. From Jedi in training to a common thief, she marveled, shrugging it off dismissively. She had made her home in an abandoned hangar, in the levels far below the planet's surface, where only the scum and villainy tended to go. 

She would venture to the higher levels on "picking days", where she would select well-to-do shops and individuals from which to pilfer the various things that she decided she needed more than they did. The deserted hangar she called home also housed an abandoned ship, an old Republic tugboat retired from years of service and thoroughly picked-through by scavengers.

Quieter moments found her in meditation, trying to channel the Force through her as she once had. On one particular day, she managed to lift and turn a wrench, tightening a nut into its socket before the wrench clattered to the ground. A dismal victory, she decided. Right up her alley.

She kept to herself, wanting to avoid attracting any attention to the fact that she had moved into the hangar. She set up a little target practice range to improve her ability with a blaster, with a variety of pieces and parts that would move and spin to present challenges for her aim. Between pilfering and practice, the days melted away and the ache in her chest dulled. 

***

"Hey!!" a gravelly voice shouted, and Vel cursed under her breath, launching into a sprint. "Come back here!"

She flew down an alley, clutching a handful of credits, some shilo pins, and a couple capacitor bearings. Casting a glance behind her as she rounded the corner, she saw two angry Weequay in pursuit, waving blasters over their heads and shouting a variety of colorful insults. 

She leapt over a cart, scattering a basket of meilooruns and smacking her head on the vendor's makeshift canopy. Hard. This earned her a momentary splatter of bright light across her vision as well as an additional cacophony of vitriol from the merchant as the credits and parts scattered from her hands. 

Regaining her bearings, she heard the Weequay coming dangerously close. She wove through another alley, dodging trash cans and pedestrians, still blinking rapidly to try to clear her vision which was now swimming with tears from her solid blow to the temple. She spotted a ladder up ahead and made a beeline for it, doors and windows flying past.

She had almost made it when a pair of arms snatched her mid-run, pulling her into a crevice between buildings that was barely big enough for one person, let alone two. She cursed and struggled, scratching at the walls and squirming in an attempt to free herself. Her captor had fallen behind her against the wall, pulling her in tight. She felt a hot breath on her ear and cringed at the anticipation of the throaty Weequay voice.

But it was an urgent whisper instead: "If you would please be quiet until your pursuers are gone..." The matter-of-fact insistence stopped her cold, and she froze in disbelief. She looked down at the arms across her stomach, registering the gray and red paint.

"Tech?!" she whispered, gasping into silence as she heard the Weequay trundling down the alley outside.

"Where did she go?" one called to the other, sniffing around menacingly.

"Check the ladder!" the larger one pointed, and the two started off. They hadn't taken more than a single step before bright blue beams sizzled around each of them, and they dropped like stones. A second after that, Wrecker came charging around the corner, determined grin changing to disappointment as he saw their unconscious bodies.

"Aww, come on Crosshair, I almost had em!" he yelled, kicking one of their boots. "You never let me have any fun," he grumbled, sauntering back the way he had come.

Vel felt like pinching herself. She hadn't ever tried spice, but this sounded a lot like the spice dreams she had read about. Yet it felt so real. The arms around her loosened, bringing her back to reality and gently pushing her toward the opening. She stumbled out into the open, whirling around as quickly as she could. This resulted in a smarting pain in her temple, and she winced as she raised a hand to cover it. 

Tech emerged from the crevice, helmet first, then backpack antenna, then the rest of his glorious, tall, wonderful, incredibly welcome frame. Vel exhaled, looking up at him from her hand on her forehead. 

"What are you doing here? How did you find me?" she asked, dropping her hand to relax into a completely dumbfounded posture. She was so flooded with relief at the sight of him, exhilaration from the pursuit, and confusion about the whole situation that she forgot the pain she'd been carrying in her heart for months.

"I will be happy to answer all your questions," Tech answered, corner of his mouth lifted in the hint of a smile, "When we are in a secure space. The ship is up above. Will you join me?"

She followed him after Wrecker, still speechless, mind racing with questions. They approached a set of lifts; the left was clearly occupied and on its way up, but the right was dark and available for use. They stepped on together, Tech punched a number, and the doors slid shut. 

The lighting in the lift was dim, and it reeked of all kinds of unsavory activities. Tech lifted his visor and regarded her from his helmet. 

"Is this what you have been doing?" he asked, not a single trace of implication behind his words.

"Are you going to lecture me?" Vel retorted, lifting her chin as she met his gaze. 

"No," came the simple response, as Tech calmly returned his eyes to the front.

The lift arrived with a mechanical ding, and the doors opened. They walked wordlessly down a puzzle of streets, Tech tapping away on his datapad as if nothing had happened, until they arrived at the Marauder. 

Crosshair and Wrecker were already settled as Tech and Vel boarded the ship. She looked around, feeling the dull ache once again as she took in the space she had come to grow fond of. Tech took his seat at the pilot controls, powering up the ship, and Crosshair stared at her as she approached. Wrecker clapped her on the shoulder as he headed back toward the bunks, and it was then that she noticed something different.

"Where's Hunter?" she asked, looking after Wrecker. 

Crosshair smirked, bringing a foot up to rest on his chair, elbow propped up on his knee. "Hunter took a bit of a tumble," he said smoothly. Was he gloating? Or was that just the way he talked? She looked to Tech inquisitively.

"What happened?" she asked.

Finishing his sequence of switches and buttons, Tech swiveled in his seat to face her. "We were sent to sabotage a Separatist droid factory. The intel we were given suggested that the power cells were housed in extremely combustible and highly valuable ipsium. We placed charges appropriately and constructed a timed detonator, to ensure ample time for our escape, but..." he faltered, lowering his head shamefully. 

"But your star-crossed lover here got his wires mixed up," Crosshair interjected, jabbing his toothpick in Tech's direction, "And the factory collapsed before we could get out."

Two simultaneous reactions met his words: Tech's head snapped up at Crosshair's accusation, and Vel's eyebrows skyrocketed at the news. Something echoed in the back of her mind... star-crossed lover?... but it was overshadowed by the lack of closure about Hunter's status.

"Is he okay?" she asked, feeling a disproportionate amount of concern. 

"Yes," Tech answered pertly, still staring at Crosshair. "He suffered two femoral fractures due to a falling crossbar, but he is nearly entirely recovered. And the wires were not mixed up," he insisted, "The coating had an unexpected reaction with the ipsium."

Vel's relief at his words was quickly overtaken by a flashback to their little outing to the geological cache. She could see the glass case of mineral reactions, remembering distinctly her delight at the new combinations she hadn't yet known about. 

"Oh no," she said, realization dawning on her as she looked at Tech, "Were they syllen wires?"

"They were," he confirmed grimly, "And I am now fully aware of their combustibility in proximity to ipsium."

"Too bad you weren't there," Crosshair crooned, and Vel couldn't gauge his tone. Some mix of mockery, wistfulness, and disdain. The usual cocktail. She let it go and took a deep breath, dropping into a nearby seat. She absently rubbed her temple, squinting through the throbbing pain that was now emanating from both her head as well as her chest.

"May I assist with that?" Tech asked cordially, motioning toward her hand. 

"It's fine," she said dismissively, still fighting to form a coherent thought. "What am I doing here? What are you guys doing here?" she finally asked, looking at each of them in turn. 

"Well, we wondered if you would be open to assisting us again," came a silken voice from behind her. She swiveled in her seat to see Hunter sauntering in from the back, walking a bit more stiffly than usual but looking none worse for the wear. 

There was absolutely too much going on, and Vel felt near to a breaking point. She shook her head, immediately regretted it, and gritted her teeth as she closed her eyes. She hadn't realized how much had been pent up inside, between the disappointment of her departure to the stress of the day. She just wanted to sleep an entire day and night, wake up fresh, and start again.

"Let's fix that headache and you can go from there," Hunter invited, motioning for Tech to approach. He could sense her faltering and was just in time with his recommendation. As Tech reached out to offer her a hand, she felt her eyes grow irresistibly heavy, followed by her head, and the last thing she saw before blacking out was a concerned pair of honey-colored eyes.

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