#another puzzle piece falls onto the board!!

[razzle-zazzle]

Whumptober Day 03: hair's breadth from death

"Say goodbye."

1359 Words; Buried Beneath AU

TW for attempted murder

AO3 ver

Raz shouldn’t have rushed in.

He knew, from the memory vault, that Not-Dion had plenty of experience on him. He knew that Not-Dion was not above hurting him or anyone else.

But.

But it hurt so much, to finally find his brother again after two months of uncertainty. It hurt so much, to finally see him again—

Only to find out that it wasn’t his brother at all, but some imposter wearing his body. To have the one source of answers disappear in a literal flash of light, teleported off into parts unknown.

It hurt. If Raz had been a little faster on the uptake, or more aggressive in taking the imposter down, then maybe Dion would already be back.

As it was, though, Dion’s brain was still missing, and the only person who’d know where it was hidden was just as missing.

The psychonauts, though a government agency, had a sizable network of gossip. From psychics who didn’t have the inclination to join but had learned psychic safety from the agency anyway, to regular people who either owed the agency something or were just on good terms with some of the agents—the gossip network spanned the country and then some, providing information when and where it could.

Previously, this force had been utilized to track Deluginist movements. It still was, for the most part.

But someone had seen Not-Dion at a local park three weeks ago, and mentioned it to a friend in the agency. Armed with this starting point, the investigation frenzied; two weeks later, they knew Not-Dion’s location and a good guess as to where he was heading.

Agents Nein and Vodello were investigating the area. The junior agents technically weren’t supposed to be here, but Raz had bullied his way onto the mission by virtue of being Dion’s brother, and Gisu had bullied her way onto it by virtue of being just as capable as Raz.

Lili had almost gotten into the mission, too, but that had been the point that Truman had put his foot down. They didn’t know everything that Not-Dion was capable of, he’d said. They were going to try and avoid a direct confrontation, he’d ordered.

Well, Raz thought, springing up and over a park bench, so much for avoiding a direct confrontation.

He knew he shouldn’t have rushed ahead. And he hadn’t meant to—but then he’d just known where Not-Dion was, like there was a bright arrow urging him towards a nearby park—

And now here he was, standing at the edge of a basketball court, the concrete old and worn.

Not-Dion was sitting on a bench at the other end of the court, book in hand. He set the book down and stood up when seeing Raz.

Raz raised his hand, readying a psi-blast.

Not-Dion glared back at him, the quiet indifference completely wrong on Dion’s face.

“Can’t a guy be left to enjoy his day at the park in peace?” Not-Dion lamented, like Raz was the one in the wrong here.

“Not when you’re controlling my brother’s body!” Raz protested, eyes glowing softly behind his goggles.

Not-Dion hmphed. “This is my body now.” He insisted, pacing a slow circle around the court. Raz unconsciously matched his pace, the two of them circling each other slowly.

This was it. Raz was getting his brother back, right here, right now. He cracked his knuckles, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Look,” Raz urged, “You’re coming with us whether you like it or not, D—you.”

Not-Dion barked out a laugh. “Cute.” He shifted his foot, the scrape of his boot against the concrete matching the scrape of stone against stone as the concrete spiked in a wave towards Raz.

Raz backflipped out of the way, dodge-rolling to the side the moment he touched the ground. He shot back with a psi-blast, rolled, then shot again.

Not-Dion lifted his arms, mentally heaving a chunk of concrete up into the air to block the blast.

The concrete shattered with the second blast. Not-Dion swung his hands around in an arc, drawing the rocks to float around him in a loose circle.

Raz kept firing. Not-Dion retaliated by launching his rocks right back.

Raz caught one, two, three with telekinesis, throwing them to the side. He rolled out of the way of the next two, then shot back with a psi-blast.

The distance between the two of them was closing, allowing Raz to swing out with telekinesis instead.

A pillar of rock erupted from the ground at Not-Dion’s command, forcing Raz to backflip out of the way.

Raz sidestepped to put Not-Dion back in view. He shot again.

Not-Dion swept both arms to the side, tilting the pillar to catch the shot. A shove, and suddenly the entire court was pulsing, ground rolling like spiked waves.

Raz hopped onto a levitation bubble to avoid the sharp ridges, keeping his balance as the very ground rocked violently under him.

Not-Dion’s hands fell to his sides, his whole frame trembling so slightly that Raz almost missed it.

Glowing blue eyes flickered, like a lightbulb about to burn out.

Raz landed back on the uneven concrete, readying another psi-blast.

“Oh, enough of this.” Not-Dion summoned a rock to his left hand, sharpening it with a burst of mental effort and a squeeze of his fist.

The concrete under Raz’ feet twisted upwards, scraping at his ankles as it tightened around them. Raz struggled, telekinesis already working to pry the concrete off as Not-Dion approached.

He wouldn’t be able to get free in time.

Not-Dion brought the rock down with brutal swing of his arm—

Raz’ breath froze in his lungs.

Raz opened his eyes, heart frantically beating a hole through his chest.

The world had shrunk down to just Raz and Not-Dion. Nothing else existed but the rock mere millimeters away from Raz’ face, held in a trembling, white-knuckled hand.

Slowly, Raz managed to move his gaze from the rock to Not-Dion’s face, almost like shifting the focus on a camera.

The face that stared back at him—both Dion’s face and not at all his, all the details of Not-Dion’s expressions too wrong—shifted through cold anger to blank-eyed confusion to realization, incandescent rage burning behind blue eyes.

He didn’t get a moment to act on it before having to jump back out of the way of a psi-blast.

Raz faintly heard Gisu yelling something, faintly registered the sound of Sasha’s psi-blasts, faintly heard the grind of stone against stone as Not-Dion fought them off.

It was all distant, though, as though Raz was underwater and the fight was above the surface, muffled and indistinct.

A telekinetic hand pried the concrete away from his ankles. Raz registered the pain of scraped skin, the sting of small cuts being exposed to air.

“...do that for me, darling?”

Raz let go of the breath he forgot he was holding.

Breathing.

That was a thing Raz needed to do.

The sudden return of air to his lungs left Raz choking, doubling over as he gasped. Hands on his shoulders steadied him, Milla sending steady mental pulses of support and reassurance alongside the words she was saying.

Raz wheezed, leaning against Milla’s supportive hold. Oh god. Oh god.

He’d—

Not-Dion had—

Oh god.

Raz struggled to breathe past the sudden squeeze in his chest. His mind was a wall of hurt-loss-shock against Milla’s calm reassurances.

“Razputin,” Milla’s voice was calm, firm, “Can you breathe for me, filho? Deep breaths, sweetie, in through the nose, out through the mouth,” She demonstrated, “Like this. Match my breathing.”

Raz’s breathing stuttered, his heart beating wildly as he tried to do as he was told.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, his breathing evened out.

The sounds of the fight died down.

“There we go.” Milla crooned. “Let’s get those ankles looked at, okay?”

Raz nodded. “Yeah.” He rolled up the ends of his pants to give Milla more space to work with.

Gisu trudged over as Milla pulled out a medkit, expression dark. Sasha inspected the ruined court for a moment longer before following after her.

Not-Dion was nowhere to be seen.

Raz’ hands continued to tremble.

#whumptober2022 #no.3 #say goodbye #psychonauts #zaz writes #attempted murder #buried beneath au #razputin aquato #archelaos #milla vodello #gisu nerumen #sasha nein #another puzzle piece falls onto the board!! #and raz gets +1 trauma!! #struggled with where in the timeline to put this piece #eventually decided to put it before arc's name is found out #bc by calling him ''not-dion'' in the narration i can emphasize how the person who very nearly murdered raz #is wearing his brother's face #>:]]]

[r-is-typing]

hi there! welcome back to tumblr!

could I please request a spencer reid x reader where the reader is the newest member of the bau but gets kidnapped on a case? thank you!

p.s. extra points if the reader loves puzzles and books!

decipher | s.r

summary: in which the newest member of the bau gets taken request: hi there! welcome back to tumblr! could I please request a spencer reid x reader where the reader is the newest member of the bau but gets kidnapped on a case? thank you! p.s. extra points if the reader loves puzzles and books! pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst with a happy ending content warnings: mentions of violence, kidnapping, really anything mentioned in criminal minds word count: 1.6k+ send in your requests here!

Y/N groaned, walking into the small room that the BAU was using in Delaware's local police station while they were there for a case. "What's wrong, pretty girl?" Derek raised a curious brow.

Y/N looked at the evidence board. "I just don't see what we're missing! It's been four days now, and we're no closer than when we got here to solving this."

Spencer looked up from his reading. "I've been reading for a while and can't decipher these puzzles." The tall man stood up, walking to a board they had with various puzzles tacked onto it. The Unsub had left pieces of paper at every crime scene with different variations of codes that seemed like coordinates of some kind. "43 11 51 15 44 23 15 32" "31 15 44 43 35 31 11 54" "23 15 31 35 32 15" Y/N stared intensely at the numbers, trying to get anything to tell her what they meant. "Okay, maybe we need to go over the profile again. What's the deal with this guy?" JJ started to speak. "Well, the guy's a narcissist first, but.. he could be devolving. He was skilled the first few kills, but this last one... we found mistakes, he slipped up. So, does that mean his clues will too?" Spencer stood next to Y/N. "It very well could, but until we figure out the code..." Hotch finished his sentence. "There's nothing we can do. The best thing to do right now is go back to the hotel and rest, we can come back tomorrow with fresh minds. That's an order." Y/N told the team she'd catch up, she was just going to go to the restroom, so they left and headed to the hotel. She watched them leave and as soon as they left her eye sight, she ran back into the boardroom. She needed to figure out this code. People's lives depended on it. Y/N began looking everywhere online possible to lead her to what kind of code this was. "Agent L/N?" An officer stuck their head into the room, making Y/N look up. "We've just received another note... There seems to have been one we missed in our initial sweep." Y/N jumped up quick taking the note from the officer. "Thank you."

Y/N opened the note and was met with something she wasn't expecting. Another code but at the bottom, it said "Tap tap tap". Y/N widened her eyes. Why didn't she think of tap code? It was brilliant. Y/N spent the next fifteen minutes solving each of the puzzles she got. She went to the board writing next to each decipher.

"43 11 51 15 44 23 15 32" -> "save them" "31 15 44 43 35 31 11 54" -> "let's play" "23 15 31 35 32 15" -> "help me" and then the newest cipher:

"11 12 11 33 14 34 33 15 14 23 34 45 43 15 31 24 12 42 11 42 54" -> "abandoned house library" Y/N gasped, running out of the police station and hopping into the vehicle the team left for her, heading to this abandoned house that they had thought they cleared the day before. "I knew it.." Y/N mumbled to herself, pulling in front of the house. Y/N quickly ran into the house, gun pointing in front of her. She swung to the right, hearing a noise but ultimately nothing. "I just knew you'd fall for my trap. The last note was just for you, Agent. Those girls aren't here, but you however..." A voice from behind her spoke, hitting her over the head with a chunk of wood before she could turn and shoot him. Y/N fell to the floor, knocking unconscious . The Unsub smirked, picking her up over his shoulder and carrying her out to his truck, driving away quickly before anyone would be able to find them.

The next day, the team arrived to the station early. "Anyone hear from Y/N? I didn't see her at the hotel this morning." Emily asked, looking around. This made the team share a look of confusion. "Excuse me? What time did Agent L/N leave last night?" JJ asked one of the officers. "Well, shortly after I gave her a note that was delivered here, she ran out of here quicker than I could even see with my own eyes. I figured she was just sick or somethin'." The officer told the team. "Guys..." Spencer looked at the board with the ciphers, noting a new one pinned, along with their deciphers right next to them. "I think the Unsub knew Y/N was here alone and lured her.. She was able to figure out the cipher. It's tap code."

Hotch looked at Reid. "Who would be smart enough to understand tap code?" Reid scrambled to get his phone out of his pocket. "Garcia," He started as she picked up the phone. "Out of the list of possible suspects we had, cross match those with anyone who recently got out of prison." Typing could be heard on the other end of the phone. "Uh, there's two. Robert Smart and Henry David. Henry got out just two weeks ago, and Robert got out two days ago."

Hotch begins to speak, but was interrupted by Penelope. "Sending Henry's address and work now to your cells. Her majesty out." A click was heard and Penelope's voice was gone.

The team ran out of the station, half of the team splitting up. "Well, he wouldn't take her to his work..." Derek called Garcia again, asking about any abandoned buildings, or anything in that area that would be the perfect spot to keep someone.

"It seems like his parents had owned a storage unit but the storage company itself went bankrupt last year, so there's just a whole bunch of abandoned storage units. His..." Penelope pauses, typing more. "is number 378."

Derek does a quick u-turn, speeding towards the storage unit. "Why would she go off without us?" Spencer looked at Derek and then Rossi. "Kid, she probably wasn't expecting this. I mean, it seemed perfect that we had just talked about him devolving and then he gives a precise location." Rossi puts a comforting hand on Reid's shoulder, comforting him as much as he could.

The three jumped out of the SUV as they arrived at the abandoned area. Spencer rushed ahead of them, his gun held steady, in case of any surprises as they walked slowly.

367, 371, 375 Finally, they found Unit 378 and looked at each other, nodding before lifting the storage and finding Henry and Y/N. Henry held a gun to her head as she stared directly at the three men ahead of her. "You take one more step, and she's dead!" Henry screams. Spencer tensed. "You don't want to do that, Henry." He raised his hands, putting his gun back in his holster. "We know what your mom did to you, okay? You shouldn't have had to go through that."

Henry's eyes flashed with anger as he cried. "She left me! Abandoned me as if I was nothing!" Y/N kept eye contact with Spencer. "Henry, it's alright, we're going to get you help. Just put down the gun, okay?" Spencer slowly took a step, seeing Henry's guard starting to come down. "If you put the gun down, we can help you. We can tell the judge you cooperated with us." Y/N spoke, not breaking eye contact with Spencer who stared at Henry.

Henry's hand dropped the gun as he dropped to the ground and cried. Derek ran over, cuffing him. "Henry David, you're being arrested for the murder of three women, kidnapping, and the assault of an FBI agent. You have the right to remain silent-" Morgan's voice cut off as he walked out of the storage, Rossi in tow.

Spencer rushed over to Y/N, untying her and helping her to her feet. Y/N was quick to hug him as she cried. "I'm so sorry. I really thought.." Spencer shushed her, walking her out of the storage unit where JJ, Hotch, and Emily stood waiting for her. "You're okay!" JJ ran over and embraced the girl.

"Hotch, I-"

Hotch shook his head. "As much as what you did was careless, you were smart with your actions. If it wasn't for your smart thinking and logic, we wouldn't have been able to decipher the code."

Y/N nodded to Hotch, then looked up at Spencer. "I didn't mean to worry everyone.." The girl pouted. Spencer just rubbed her shoulder. "I know, but you're okay now, that's what matters."

Y/N looked up at him. "I knew you guys would come for me once you saw the cipher, but I honestly thought I was going to die in there... which got me thinking."

Spencer looked at her in confusion. "Do you wanna do something when we get back to Quantico?" Y/N asked, a tint of red painted across her face.

"Like a..?"

"Yes, genius. Like a date. I've got to repay my knight in shining blue vest somehow as a token of my appreciation for saving me."

Spencer nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I'd, uh, I"d like that." Y/N smiled. "Perfect." She quickly walked to JJ and Emily after. Spencer looked over to Derek who had clearly witnessed the exchange, a large smirk sprawled across his face.

"Shut up." Spencer mumbled to him, shuffling past him quickly. He then stopped, realizing what she had said. "Knight in shining blue vest?"

r is typing... thank you so much for the request and the warm welcome back! i hoep you enjoy, i loved writing this! :) r is signing off...

#requests open #reqs open #request #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #r-is-typing #spencer reid angst

[astromaxi]

[Popular Boy Geto!]

A/N: this is so poorly put together but this man has been on my mind 24/7

>:0

Warning: Underage drinking, mention of Geto using other people, mention of Geto manipulate people, talk of mental breakdown, slight mention of depression, yandere(?), mention of obsession, Geto and Gojo lowkey having a thing, Geto okay with sharing you, Geto getting drunk by just seeing you

(I might miss some warning, lmk if that happens) (Not proofread like usual, didn't edit it, and probably some spelling and grammar mistakes)

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Popular Boy Geto, who is more emotionally available than his best friend, makes it easier to get with the girls at their school.

Popular Boy Geto, who is also praised for the contracting appearance he shares with Gojo, his board structure with dark long hair and mysterious purple eyes. That only seems to soften when he stares at a certain person in his English 101 class.  

Popular Boy Geto, comes from a well of family, not well off like Gojos. Still good enough to get into this school without needing to fill out an application form. He is still stupidly well educated using it to his advantage when he smooths talks Gojo and his professor to cancel class on Friday so they can throw another party. 

Popular Boy Geto, who even if he is more emotionally intelligent, still feels hollow and cold inside. Not being able to care about anyone besides this person he is attached to by the hip. Gojo Satoru. 

Popular Boy Geto, who can't hold back the gut-wrenching feeling when he has to comfort his best friend, the guilt that flows through him like a waterfall as he promises Gojo that he will make it all better, that everything will be okay, that they only need each other. He holds Gojo in the quiet hours of the night, well after Gojo calms down as they make silent promises to each other.

Popular Boy Geto, who sees you with your friends at Gojo’s homecoming party, and a sense of ecstasy rushes into his veins that gets him more drunk the the liquid in his hands. 

Popular Boy Geto, feels his blood run cold when he sees Gojo make his way towards you, thoughts swimming in his head as he questions his best friend’s intentions.

Popular Boy Geto, who swears to the higher beings that Gojo better not try to get with you for a quick hook-up 

Popular Boy Geto, who also makes his way to you and your friends, slides next to Gojo like two puzzle pieces being placed together. He looks around the group you chose to be with as a bitter taste falls onto his tongue without even taking a drink of the sour liquid in the red cup. 

Popular Boy Geto, who looks into Gojo's cerulean blue eyes as he takes a beaten breath of relief when he sees the same obsession that Geto has been plagued with. He slings his arm around Gojo's shoulders, as Geto falls naturally into the conversion that is currently going on. 

Popular Boy Geto, once the party is done Gojo and him are lying down in the snowy boy’s bed. Getos arms are tensing and relaxing around the boy’s waist. Thoughts pass by his head. One after the other, as he tries to decipher the situation. But, if he and Gojo can share anything. Then let them share the same obsession. 

#yandere jjk #yandere geto #geto suguru #geto x reader #jjk geto #jujutsu geto #jujutsu kaisen #astromaxi #getou suguru #getou suguru x reader #geto x y/n #jujutsu kasien #morebadwriting #daddygeto #pleasegetojustonechance #pleasegeto #yummygeto #geto x you #geto x gojo

[sunlightmurdock]

‘Friendship’ Bracelets — Rooster x Bambi (18+)

Synopsis: Rooster gets half of a friendship bracelet

Warnings: unabashed size kink, unprotected sex, pinv, creampies

…

You sigh softly, lifting your head from his chest and propping your chin up on your palm. Rooster’s brows knit together, his muscles tensing under you as there’s another near miss for his team. He relaxes again and brings his beer bottle to his lips, taking a long drink and then setting it back down on the floor beside the couch.

“You okay, baby?” Rooster hums without managing to tear his gaze away from the screen, smoothing his palm along your back. You turn your gaze to the rain pouring on the window, and then to the football game on the television.

“Mm.” You shrug, pushing yourself up from where you’re laying on his chest, stretching your arms up above your head. “Bored.”

“I can fuck you at half-time, if you want.” He jokes, tucking an arm behind his head and shifting to find comfort again now that you aren’t acting as his weighted blanket.

Your lips quirk, rolling your eyes playfully as you turn away from him in search of something to occupy your Sunday stuck inside. He won’t play a board game with you, and you don’t want him to break one of your puzzles trying to mash the pieces together with his big fingers. Reading sounds like too much effort. You sigh softly and pull open your closet.

There’s usually something entertaining that you have forgotten that you own in here. Bradley gasps and grumbles something discontentedly from the living room as you rifle through the closet.

He looks up as you wander back in, grinning at him and holding a little plastic box.

“What’s that?”

“My friendship bracelet kit, I’m gonna make us matching ones.” You explain, setting the box down on the coffee table and sitting down on the floor with your back to the couch. Rooster hums to show his interest, stroking your hair back away from his neck.

“That’s nice.”

“What colours should we have?” You ask him as his thumb strokes absent-mindedly along the exposed curve of your neck, stopping at the collar of your sweatshirt.

“Purple and gold.” He replies, nodding towards the television. Immediately, you scrunch your face up in distaste. With your back to him, he doesn’t see that. You peer down into the box and hide the purple thread under the green.

“I don’t have purple.” It’s an innocent, little white lie that means you don’t have to walk around with an ugly Minnesota Vikings bracelet on. Rooster doesn’t even notice.

“Whatever you want, baby.” He decides, taking another sip from his beer bottle. His lips quirk softly as he rests the chilled glass against the exposed back of your neck and watches you squirm away from it. You smack his leg and scowl at him, he winks at you and settles back some to watch the game again.

Making your own bracelet is easy work, you’ve been doing it since you were six. You pick out pink, blue and yellow threads, twisting them intricately around each other until you’ve got a thread long enough to fit around your wrist.

“Will you tie it for me?” You turn to Bradley, pushing yourself onto your knees. His eyes never once leave the screen as he reaches for the two ends of the bracelet. “Not too tight, but don’t let it fall off either.”

“Mhm.” He frowns at the game and glances quickly downwards to make sure he’s doing it right, securing it in a knot and dropping your wrist. “Looks pretty, Bambi.”

You turn back around and start working on his bracelet immediately, braiding the threads together until they should be long enough. You grab his arm from where it’s resting against his middle, wrapping the bracelet around as much of his wrist as it’ll cover.

Frowning, you drop his arm and turn back around to fix the length of it. His arm’s just bigger than you had anticipated. Adding an extra little bit, you turn again and pick up his wrist. He lets you without complaint, too focused on the end of the first half.

The thread almost fits, you could maybe make it fit if he was willing to compromise on his blood circulation. Frowning again, you drop his arm and watch it flop back down against the couch.

He doesn’t react, brows raised in anticipation as the quarterback heads towards the end zone. You reach out delicately and take his arm again, this time shifting around and extending your forearm beside his.

“Almost finished?” He asks.

“Mm, almost,” You answer quietly, placing your open palm in his, stretching your fingers out to see how far they are from the tips of his.

Glancing back up at his face, he sips on his beer, oblivious. You trail your index finger along the veins in his forearm, up onto the firm skin of his bicep.

He’s always wandering around here shirtless, even on days like today when it’s miserable and drizzly outside, he’s still warm under your touch. You’re wearing a sweater and a big t-shirt, fuzzy socks and grey sweats, and he’s still warmer than you are.

You exhale quickly and turn back around to your little workstation, picking up more thread. You wonder what size gloves he wears in the ring. Then, you try to shake that thought from your head all together and focus on the wholesome activity you had chosen for the afternoon.

Rooster’s hand is on the back of your neck again. Just an absent-minded need to be touching you, his thumb stroking along the top of your spine delicately. You’ve never noticed how softly he touches you before now, wondering to yourself if he has to hold back — if he knows how strong he is.

“Damn it!” He yells from behind you, fingers squeezing softly around the curve of your neck. You tense, glancing up towards the screen, then slowly turning to peer back at him over your shoulder. He softens and squeezes at your neck again, an apologetic smile tugging at his lips. “Sorry, baby, didn’t mean to make you—“

He stops, brows furrowing as you drop the bracelet to the ground and push yourself up from the floor, swinging a knee over his hips swiftly. You brace your palms against his broad shoulders, kissing him hard before you’ve even settled in his lap.

Instinctively, his hands find your hips and he pulls you down hard against his groin. You pull back just to tug your sweatshirt over your head, groaning in frustration as your arm gets stuck in the struggle and then your necklace catches on the collar of the sweatshirt.

“Slow down, I’ve got you.” Rooster chuckles softly as he sits up and untangles you from the nice little straight jacket you had just made for yourself. You drop the sweater and the t-shirt to the ground at once, sitting in his lap in just your bra and your sweats. “Is there like a go button on you somewhere? — where the hell did that come from?”

You place both palms, flat and open, on his bare chest and push against his muscles, feeling them flex against your hands as he doesn’t let you push him back. “Just want you.”

Rooster’s lips quirk softly as he relents and allows you to push him down against the couch, his head resting against the arm. “Sure, but that doesn’t answer my question. Kinda leapt on me out of nowhere, baby.”

You shrug your shoulders and squirm around him as you quick your sweats and socks off, his body heat does more for you than they did anyway.

Taking his hands in yours, you open them up and place them on your skin. He curls his hands around your ribcage and flexes his palms softly, keeping you in place.

“Fuck.” You exhale softly. His brows knit together a little, cocking his head. Trying to figure out what’s got you so flustered all of a sudden. You smooth your fingertips over his collarbones, the swell of his broad shoulders, over his thick arms.

His hands trail innocently, coming down to rest against your thighs on either side of his hips. Palms open, he squeezes softly at your legs, still confused but not complaining as you grind yourself against the growing tent in his shorts.

“I can’t wait, I just really need you.” You rush out, all in one big breath, pressing your palms harder against his chest. Rooster’s lips tug at a smile as he nods slowly at you.

“Alright, it’s alright,” He sits up and presses his chest into yours swiftly, hooking an arm around your middle and lifting you so that he can push his shorts down. You hum as his thick fingers nudge your underwear to the side and swipe between your legs gently. “Fuck, baby, you’re soaked.”

Grabbing a handful of the short hair at the back of his head, you kiss eagerly at his neck as he works his fingers into you. You could whine and argue as much as you want, he isn’t going to give you anything more until he’s satisfied that you’ll be able to take him.

His fingers curl upwards, massaging that spongy spot inside of you that makes you dig your nails into his shoulders. Mewling into his neck, fucking yourself down onto his thick fingers. The game long forgotten, Rooster shoves his boxers down and withdraws his fingers, grabbing your hips instead.

You slowly sink down on him, taking in his tip. A soft squeak slips your lips. He squeezes softly at your thighs again. His eyes shut, preventing himself from grabbing your hips and forcing you down to take him in all at once.

He breathes out hard and grabs the back of your neck, pulling you into a bruising kiss. You whimper softly against him. You breathe out softly through your nose, pushing your chest against his as you sink the rest of the way onto his length. Rooster grabs your hips with both hands and pulls you tight against him, driving himself as deep as he possibly can.

You lift yourself just slightly, rocking back down once again, finding a soft rhythm. Sinking up and down on his length. More full than you’ve ever felt. Head lulled back. His hands, big and strong, squeeze your middle and guide you on him.

You pick up speed, your bodies sloppily colliding as he kisses the salt from your skin, peppering his mouth over every inch of skin that he can reach.

Rooster moans, desperate and panting into your chest, fingers bruising your skin. You arch your back, grabbing onto his thigh for support as you fuck yourself on him. He squeezes softly at your hips, sliding his hands down to your ass instead.

“Bra — ungh — Bradley — I’m gonna — I’m-“ You can’t manage real words right now, interrupted by his mouth on yours anyway. He grabs a handful of your hair and tugs as his other arm tucks around your waist and keeps you steady as he pounds into you.

You cum, careening against him, his arms keeping you steady. Panting hard, you’re locked in his embrace as he drives into you, relentless. Overstimulation creeping in, your thighs tremble around his as he spills into you.

Mind hazed, you hum as you fall forwards against his chest, a soft smile on your lips. He groans, resting his head back against the arm, closing his eyes.

“So you get off on doing arts and crafts now or something?” Bradley asks, squeezing you in his arms. Your cheeks burn at the notion as you shake your head and settle down against his chest.

“Or something.”

…

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #miles teller #blow by blow #drabbles #rooster x bambi

[renaiswriting]

Baci di Luna (part 3)

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol/Reader

Summary:

Saying I love you was never easy.

Having to say it in a language that wasn't yours was not easy either.

Imagine the struggle of that, and now add it to loving someone whose family thinks you're a monster.

It can't be easy at all.

Warning: Mentions of chest pain (?) And sick aunt. Idk, I think that's it.

Word count: +2.3k words.

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•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

"You came back earlier today." Jeonghan commented, taking a sip of his morning tea. It was still quite dark outside, and only a handful of the wolves were awake.

"It was closed." Seungcheol mumbled.

His face was ducking to the side, and he was walking slowly with slumped shoulders.

He sighed, falling onto a chair and accepting the cup of hot tea Jeonghan was offering him.

Minghao was just finishing his tea. "It's okay, hyung. You'll get to eat those pastries later on." He tried to comfort the head alpha, patting his shoulders as he walked behind Seungcheol, walking straight to Wonwoo's room.

"Are you planning on telling the kids yet?" Jeonghan asked him with a raised eyebrow. Seungcheol shook his head.

"The last thing I want to do is stress them with the news, especially when some of them are just joining the pack."

Jeonghan nodded, looking through the window. Jihoon was playing with some balls that he probably stole from the town with one of the newest pups.

 

"It's a big deal," Jeonghan mumbled, chuckling at something that he saw outside, "you are our first example of imprimation; I think you should tell at least some of the olders; you know that we do need a plan B just in case..."

 

"You know it; that's all we need. You've been here almost as long as I have."

 

"I won't do it, Seungcheol. I'm not made to fit that spot in our pack; I genuinely think you should talk with Wonwoo or Joshua."

 

"Joshua." Seungcheol choose. "At least he's as old as we are."

 

Jeonghan nodded, taking the seat next to Seungcheol. "So how does it feel?"

 

Seungcheol's face immediately brightened up as he started thinking about his mate. "Amazing," he replied. His eyes were sparkling so much that, for a solid second, Jeonghan thought Seungcheol was about to start crying. "It feels like everything finally makes sense. Like I found the missing piece of the puzzle I didn't know was missing."

Jeonghan smiled at him and said, "I'm glad you found her." He admitted.

"Me too," Seungcheol replied.

"Are you going to try and meet her again later?"

"Yeah," Seungcheol nodded fervently. "But I don't know if I'll have much luck. There was something written on the board they use, but I couldn't understand it."

"You'll have to find some other thing in common," Jeonghan pointed him out, "because if we have to have bread for dinner and lunch for another whole week, I'm kicking you out. I swear."

"I never told you guys to eat it all!" Seungcheol sulked, his cheeks turning red. "I never get to eat the pastries I buy."

 

"Alright, alright." Jeonghan raised his hands, taking the last slice of bread that was left in there. "At least try and buy new stuff, though."

"I try! But the names are kind of difficult to remember, and I always forget everything whenever I see her." Seungcheol complained, hiding his face behind his hands.

The front door opened, and a sweaty Jihoon entered the house with a triumphant grin on his face. He gobbled down three glasses full of water before sending Jeonghan a curious look.

 

"Had fun outside, Jihoon?" Jeonghan asked instead, taking the fourth glass of water that Jihoon was about to drink and drinking it himself.

 

"Asshole." Jihoon complained, but he didn't make any effort to take it away from him.

 

Jeonghan returned it to the younger wolf once he finished it, a teasing smile on his face.

 

"Where's Soonyoung?" Seungcheol asked Jihoon, finally raising his head from the table.

 

"He's probably still whining about how I beat his ass." Jihoon replied proudly, walking downstairs with a straight back.

Jeonghan chuckled, finally shifting his attention back to Seungcheol once the other wolf was out of his sight.

 

"I'll go and check up on Soonyoung," he informed the head alpha; "he's probably sulking big time now."

 

Seungcheol nodded. "Why don't you take him to the lake? He usually likes to see the tiny fish in there whenever I scold him."

 

"I will; you go to sleep. You've barely been sleeping the past few days." Jeonghan was pointing at him.

 

The wolf wasn't lying; between patrols and the new additions to the pack, his new mate, Seungcheol, was constantly running in around two hours of sleep.

 

And the constant headaches were an indicator that he definitely needed to give his brain and body a good rest.

 

"But what if she's at the bakery when I'm sleeping?" Seungcheol frowned.

 

Jeonghan clicked his tongue. "If she's there today, then she's going to be there tomorrow; give it a rest, would you? At least for today. You won't be able to initiate any conversation with her if your brain is fried from lack of sleep."

 

Seungcheol still wasn't convinced.

 

Jeonghan sighed. "I'll go and take a look later, and if I see that the bakery is open, I will come back and wake you up. Alright? Would you go and sleep now?"

The pain in his chest was increasing with every second he didn't see you; it was so annoying. He pressed his hand against his aching chest, hoping that the added pressure would help him erase the pain.

"You promised it?" He asked.

"I promise it."

"Alright, then." Seungcheol agreed. "But as soon as you see it open, you run back and wake me up. Got it?"

Jeonghan looked annoyed. "Run? Seungcheol, c'mon, you cannot be serious. I will walk fast; that's the best you're going to get from me." And at the mad expression on Seungcheol's face, he added, "The town is pretty far from here!"

Seungcheol growled, his fingers massaging his dry eyes. "Fine! But you walk as fast as you can."

And with that, Seungcheol walked to his room, closing the door behind himself.

 

Jeonghan sighed one last time before walking towards the back of the house, finding Soonyoung sitting on the ground, angry, mumbling to himself while pulling up some grass.

 

"Hey Soonie." Jeonghan moved towards him, softly carrasing some of the younger wolf's hair to calm him down. He knew that the wolf had a soft spot whenever someone called him by a diminutive of his name.

"Nothing." He mumbled, his head moving closer to Jeonghan's hand, a pout on his face as he kept remembering what had happened before.

 

"You sure? Because that's not what Jihoon told me."

 

Soonyoung shook his head, moving away from the older wolf as he was now looking away.

 

"Why don't you tell me what happened?" Jeonghan asked once again, his tone soft.

 

"I'm sick of now winning, never. I'm always too slow and dumb; I'm sick. I thought being a wolf meant my senses were better, but it still feels the same as when I was just a human." He crossed his arms over his chest, hiding his face behind his ankles.

 

"You're not dumb, Soonyoung." Jeonghan reassured him. "Jihoon is just way faster than most of the wolves in our pack. It's okay; you will eventually find what you're the best at." Jeonghan smiled at him. "However, we're a pack, and it's not your priority to find out, Oh, I'm better than this person at doing this thing, you understand? We're all in this together."

 

Soonyoung nodded. "Still. I wish I could at least have something."

 

"I'm sure we can find out something together; why don't we go to the lake? There's some bread that we could feed the fish." Jeonghan offered.

 

"I don't think that's good for the fish." Soonyoung frowned, but he was starting to stand up nonetheless.

 

"Is it? My mom used to take me and my sister when we were babies to feed bread to the fish."

The two wolves started moving toward the forest, meeting Joshua on their way. The wolf had just finished his rounds and was going back home.

He wasn't necessarily tired, so he decided to join the duo on their way to the lake.

 

Soonyoung quickly started running, leaving the other two behind.

 

"He seems excited." Joshua chuckled.

 

"He had a fight with Jihoon." Jeonghan told him. "Or well, I don't think Jihoon knows they have had a fight."

 

Joshua nodded, already having an idea of how it could have gone.

The two of them sat down on the ground, looking at how Soonyoung was touching the cold water with his hands on the other side.

There were some fish here and there, but most of them were scared as soon as they saw Soonyoung.

 

"Have you noticed anything different about Seungcheol lately?" Joshua asked, picking up a rock near him and throwing it into the lake.

 

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. "Different? What do you mean?"

 

"Well, he's been a bit...distracted, I guess. And he's been going to town almost every day," Joshua replied. "It can't be something good; he hates going to the town, and lately I cannot think of a single day in which he hasn't made his way down there."

 

Jeonghan chuckled. "Oh, that. Yeah, he has found this girl, and he has imprinted on her." Jeonghan informed him, taking a glance at Soonyoung, who now has half of his arms on the water.

 

Joshua's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? He never mentioned anything."

 

"He's pretty smitten with her. It's cute, really," Jeonghan said, a fond expression on his face. "But it is also kind of annoying, like he won't even go to sleep if he has a chance to see her. And I get it, but still."

 

Joshua smiled. "Have you met her yet?"

 

Jeonghan shrugged. "No, but Seungcheol seems to really like her. I hope she can accept him once he tells her everything."

 

"You think she won't?" He asked, his voice laced with concern.

 

"I don't know; there's always the risk of rejection." Jeonghan looked at him sadly.

 

"But what are we going to do if that happens? You know what happens if an imprint is rejected."

 

Jeonghan nodded, his expression matching Joshua's worry. "We will see. It doesn't have to be that bad, right? You never know; she might accept him for all we know. But whatever happens, we can't do much to change it."

 

"I just wish there was something we could do to help him," Joshua said, his eyes lost in the horizon. His mind was creating so many scenarios in his head, and he wasn't sure he liked any of them.

 

Jeonghan placed a reassuring hand on Joshua's shoulder. "We'll just have to wait and be there for him, no matter what happens. We can't predict the future, but we can always hope for the best."

The sound of Soonyoung falling onto the lake startled them both. A big wave was formed for a second, and some of the water fell near the two other wolves.

 

"Soonyoung!" Jeonghan half-complained, "Are you alright?"

 

Soonyoung emerged from the water; his hands were trying their best to take all the water from his face and hair, and his lips were now starting to turn purple.

 

"Yeah..."

 

"Get out of the water." Joshua told him, raising a hand to help him out. "We should go back before you start getting sick."

 

"I can't; I promised Seungcheol I would go to check on something in town." Jeonghan sent Joshua a secretive look. Joshua easily caught up on what was being said between lines, so he quickly nodded.

 

"Alright, Soonyoung and I will go back then. Be careful." He reminded Jeonghan.

Jeonghan's first impression of your family bakery was cozy. There were two old women and one man paying for something.

He glanced around at the various baked goods displayed on the shelves. You were behind the counter, a friendly smile on your face as your eyes met his, greeting him.

 

"Hi, welcome to our family bakery! What can I help you with?" You asked him.

 

Jeonghan hesitated for a moment before responding, "Actually, I'm not sure what I want." His eyes desperately looked around, trying to see if he could get a glimpse of something familiar. "My friend, he, um, comes here a lot recently. But I'm not sure what he usually buys."

 

Your smile brightened. "Oh, well, our Sfogliatella have been quite popular lately, and I have heard lots of people liking our biscotti." You recommend him. "Is there anything you think your friend might like?"

 

Jeonghan grinned. "Actually, my friend has already tried everything here. He's a big fan of your baking."

 

"Oh, I'm glad." Your cheeks were as red as a tomato.

 

Jeonghan leaned in closer to the counter, resting his chin in the back of his hand, taking a nice look at your face. "Yeah, he says your pastries are the best he's ever had."

 

You titled your head, taking a step back to avoid being that close to him. "Is that so? Which one is his favorite?"

 

Jeonghan smirked. "The one with the long, wavy black hair and puppy eyes."

 

"E-excuse me?"

 

Jeonghan straightened up, still grinning, and said, "Nothing you have to worry about; it was just a silly joke. I'll take the Sfogliatella; I bet Seungcheol will love that one."

 

 Seungcheol.

 

It has been a couple of days since the last time you saw him; at this point, he had become a regular client based on the number of times he went to your bakery to buy food.

 

You have talked about him with your friends from Italy on your little trip to visit your sick aunt. They have asked you to describe him, but your descriptions didn't seem to be good enough for them to picture him, so you ended up drawing him instead.

 

Your cheeks turned pink from the memory of the man in your little notebook.

 

You wonder if he would get scared or feel creeped out by it.

 

Jeonghan handed you the money and said, "It was nice to finally meet you."

 

"Finally meeting me?"

 

"Oh," Jeonghan chuckled, "you're quite the star in our house."

#seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fanfics #seventeen fic #svt au #seventeen au #seventeen imagines #svt fanfic #svt reacts #seventeen x y/n #seventeen seungcheol #seventeen scenarios #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x y/n #seungcheol x you #s.coups x reader #scoups x y/n #scoups x you #scoups x reader #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol werewolf #seventeen werewolves #seventeen werewolf #svt werewolves #svt werewolf #seungcheol fic #seungcheol fanfic #choi seungcheol fluff #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol au

[blainesebastian]

coming home (ccg universe)

words: 2,679 ship: austin butler x reader summary: austin gets home from budapest with scruff, you decide you like it (for @stylesmendeshearted  and obviously inspired by this)   notes: masterlist is on my sidebar :) this is part of the coffee cart girl universe and could be seen as a continuation of ‘long distance’ but can be read alone warnings: NSFW tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff

Something you didn’t think you’d have to get used to is having a boyfriend who traveled—you know that a lot of people do it for work and it’s a constant stream of back and forth, packing and unpacking, living out of a suitcase and deciding just to leave it out in the bedroom like a permanent fixture you can buy from Target.

Then there’s the missing. No matter how short the length of time or how often you’re able to call one another, talk, the distance always feels massive. You suppose it should be, Budapest isn’t exactly a hop, skip and a jump away.

You’ve kept yourself busy at home anyways with work, with the film that’s done shooting, with all the puzzle pieces falling into place. You’ve participated in interviews, events, shows, parties and it’s been amazing, the experience is one not to be duplicated or forgotten. But you have to admit it’s been hard without Austin here, gone for the few months to shoot another movie, follow his own dreams and talents. No one is more deserving than him, but you can definitely feel the ache open up inside your chest, behind your ribcage, the longer he’s gone.

Because of this, you’re practically buzzing in place in the airport when his flight gets in, waiting in baggage claim and turning your head everytime you see someone who remotely looks like Austin. You know he’s probably coming home with his hood up, or a baseball cap, something that disguises his features just barely so he’s not overrun and can gather his things up in peace. You take a calming breath in, playing with the bottom of the sweater you’re wearing.

The thing about Austin that you can always count on is that he was available for you when he was gone—he made sure to call, respond to texts when he could, Facetime whenever the breaks allowed. It’s comforting in a way that you can’t describe that even when he’s in a completely different place, surrounded by old and new faces, obligations, that even when things change, your commitment to one another stays the same.

Another flight pops up on the board above the baggage claim and the turnstile slowly begins to rotate again with suitcases. You glance down the long hallway as you wait amongst a group of people for loved ones, finally seeing a figure that you know is Austin, can tell by the lean trim of his body and the way he’s walking. He’s wearing a black sweatshirt, hood up over his hair and a grin breaks out onto your face as you take a step forward.

His eyes scan the crowd as he gets closer, finally landing on you and the smile that spreads across his face is the same. He moves quicker, dropping a backpack to the floor as he reaches for you, closing the distance yourself to throw your arms around him. A relieved laugh slips from your lips and your bury your face into his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne and skin. You’ve missed him so much, can’t believe how hard it hits you all at once.

His arms squeeze you, slightly lifting you from the floor and making you laugh again before he sets you down. When you pull back, you tilt your chin up to get a good look at him, your eyes widening just a little as you see he’s grown some facial hair. It’s dirty blonde, subtle, just like the color of his hair and you can’t help but run your hand over it.

“Do you hate it?” He asks, lifting his hand to hold yours along his face.

A small giggle, “No, I—it’s just new. I didn’t expect it.” You press yourself up on your toes to kiss his cheek, to which he turns his head and captures your lips. Both of his hands clasp your face, running his thumbs along your cheekbones.

You can’t begin to describe how much he feels like home.

Crinkling your nose as you pull back from him, you touch your own jawline where his scruff has rubbed while kissing. It’s a bit rough but not terrible and you’re mostly making a face so that he laughs, which he does.

“It works for you,” You say after a moment, touching his cheek. Then again, most things do—don’t they? “Is this part of a grand incognito disguise?” You tease and Austin gently rolls his eyes before shaking his head,

“Trust me, people still recognize me.”

As if on cue, a girl in your peripherals approaches with her mouth slightly open and her phone in hand. She’s starstruck, shaking a little, and can barely get the words out, “Can I—”

And while Austin’s face is polite as he turns to look at her, you can tell there’s a soft flash of frustration in the blue of his eyes that he’s been interrupted the moment he’s home, trying to greet his girlfriend.

“No, I’m sorry—thank you though.”

You know it’s rare for him to turn down a fan, he’s probably exhausted and eager to get home, trying to give you the benefit of having him to yourself too long after time apart. But the crushed look on the fan’s face is something you don’t want to leave the airport seeing—Austin really doesn’t have to do any special favors for you. Besides, despite how nervous this one is, she’s at least being polite.

“It’s alright,” You assure—it’ll be quick, just one photo, and it’ll make this fan’s whole day. You know what it’s like to be in her shoes and the last thing you want is to somehow take away that experience.

Austin pauses, his gaze asking if you’re sure but you nod and take the phone from the fan to even take the picture. She’s ecstatic, trembling, can’t stop thanking either of you as you snap the photo and hand the phone over.

“Can I get a selfie with you too, Y/N?”

You blink, not exactly ready for that role reversal but nod nonetheless, a soft laugh slipping from your lips, “Sure of course.”

You pose, smile and give a small wave to the girl who continues to thank you both up and down before scurrying back to what looks like her parents near baggage claim. You hum, turning to look up at your boyfriend, who has a fond look reserved just for you, wrapping his arms around your waist,

“I dunno about this whole ‘you posing for selfies’ thing,” Austin says as he looks down at you, though his voice is teasing. His nose bunny kisses yours, “Last thing I want to do is share you.”

You smile up at him, lips brushing his own, “Let’s go home then so you don’t have to.”

There’s no disagreement from Austin on that.

--

Coming home is one of the easiest things you’ve done, especially with Austin in tow. You don’t spend a lot of time unpacking, grabbing a bottle of wine instead and ordering take-out to eat in the bedroom. Austin’s changed into a comfortable pair of joggers and a white t-shirt, gold chain he sometimes wears around his neck underneath the fabric. You hum softly, leaning back against the pillows as you watch him next you, stretched out on his side of the bed, eyes on the TV that’s playing a few Seinfeld episodes, just something as white noise.

Your cat can’t get enough of him, obviously missed him just as much. Lying on his legs while he ate and now settled perfectly on his chest like a loaf of bread, purring as Austin absently pets down the back and between the ears.

“Think your cat might have missed me more than you.” He teases, to which you ruffle Austin’s curls and turn to face him, propping yourself against the headboard.

“Not possible.” You inform him, a soft smirk tugging the corners of your mouth as you pet your cat as well. “Did you miss me?”

He gives you a look as if it might be a stupid question and maybe it is? But you can’t quite stop yourself from asking it either. Budapest kept him busy, he was constantly shooting, going out with people from set, trying to get enough sleep and schedule things with his agent that…it wouldn’t surprise you if the work helped him keep his mind off things.

“Too long this time,” He muses, meaning the time apart. Your cat stretches on his stomach and then jumps off the bed and he’s able to turn and look at you as well. One of his hands reaches out and plays with a strand of hair near your cheek before curling it around your ear,

“Next time you’re comin’ with.”

You laugh lightly, “I’d probably just get in the way.”

Austin shakes his head, his eyes glancing down to the bedspread as his hand moves to settle over your own. His thumb absently traces circles along your knuckles, “With all the craziness that the set and the work brings? You always help me feel calm in what I’m doin’.”

That he doesn’t have to explain, he helps you feel the same way too, even when it’s got nothing to do with work.

“I missed you too,” You tell him, even if that’s evident— sometimes it’s just nice to hear it. Then a mischievous chuckle leaves your throat, “Even though I practically had someone over every night, you know, keeping me company. Remember that guy from set? Ronald?”

Austin rolls his eyes and doesn’t respond, instead reaching out to grab onto your hip to pull you closer. He’s met Ronald a handful of times before he left for Budapest—a nice guy, worked the lights on your movie set, but it was obvious that there was a small crush developing on you that Austin wasn’t fond of. The guy’s harmless, never even made a move or said anything indecent. But it’s fun to tease, just a little, to wind your boyfriend up.

“He was more than willing to come over.”

“I’m sure he was.” He comments dryly but presses a kiss to the bridge of your nose.

“The only guy that was here has four legs and black fur,” You touch Austin’s chest, tugging a bit on his shirt. Your cat meows somewhere from the floor, as if he knows you’re talking about him. “Decent cuddler, not as great as you.”

“Good to know I wasn’t completely replaced.” Austin chuckles, squeezing your waist.

A soft noise leaves your lips, moving to touch his cheek again, thoughtfully running your thumb along his chin and jawline where the blonde scruff is. You smile, shaking your head, “Really don’t know how I feel about this.”

“Just pure laziness on my part.” He murmurs, taking your hand from his face to press kisses to, especially along your fingers.

You don’t mind it exactly; he just looks different. Still Austin, just rougher around the edges, that softness to his eyes from the curls in his hair and the fullness of his lips suddenly turned a bit sharper because of the scruff. You chew on your lower lip as he continues to kiss your hand, moving up to your wrist and pressing his nose against the skin there.

Heat curls in your belly, slipping lower to the center of your core between your legs.

The man knows exactly which buttons to press.

Austin’s eyes flutter up to yours before he begins to move, blanketing his body over yours until you’re lying on your back, settling between your legs. He tilts his chin up to kiss you, the scruff itching along your skin and it doesn’t hurt exactly? But it’s definitely not your favorite sensation when it comes to kissing him. You’re not about to be one of those girlfriends that tells your significant other to shave though, that’s just silly. But…you won’t exactly be upset when the scruff is gone either.

When Austin kisses you again, you expect this to go in a way that’s not unfamiliar—he’s just got home, you miss one another, your bodies aching for the other’s in heat and touch and desire. But just when you think you know what he’s doing, he switches gears and slips down between your legs. A soft breath of surprise leaves your lips, and he moves to encourage your hips up before he removes your sweatpants and underwear all in one fluid stroke.

Shivering at the cool air on your heated skin, it takes a moment for you to open your legs, Austin encouraging with soft kiss to your knees. There are a hundred separate thoughts swirling in your head right now, a constant stream that somehow comes to a sharp stop when Austin begins to kiss down your thigh.

The contrast of how sensitive your body feels, nerve endings exposed, and the bristle of the scruff on his jawline is sending electricity down your spine. Your head tips back against the pillows, a soft mewl of pleasure leaving your lips, as he drags his lips along your inner thigh and back again.

He nearly drives you crazy like this, aching for him, for more, more. A soft laugh of warm air leaves his lips because he seemingly knows exactly what he’s doing and it takes everything in you not to tug on his hair or tap his cheek, a barely there glare is all you can suffice.

“Did you need somethin’?” He asks, holding onto your knee with his one hand, pressing a kiss to where it creases.

“If you’re gonna have that attitude, go back to the airport.”

Austin laughs, something warm and annoying and God, you roll your eyes even though you’re smiling too. “Doesn’t sound like much of a threat, not with how much I can feel you tremblin’.”

“Stop teasing.”

And he does—there’s this brief thought that completely disappears out the window as he sinks between your legs. Shouldn’t you be taking care of him? He’s the one that was away for so long—but then again, Austin kinda gets in these moods where it’s just all about you, because making you feel good is just as important as his own needs.

And how are you supposed to argue with that?

Once his mouth presses against your center, there’s a struggle between wanting to open your legs further and closing your knees together, rolling your hips up and into him. His tongue does most of the work and you can’t stop the sounds from leaving your throat, a constant stream of pleasure and saying his name. The scruff along his jaw against sensitive skin makes your hands slip into his hair and tug, just slightly, and God, you don’t want him to stop. Even after reaching your peak and tumbling over the edge.

Austin lingers against you for a long few moments, panting, kisses being pressed along your thighs as he backs up. He has the audacity to lick his lips, resting his chin on your knee for a few moments before he leans down and kisses you. You cup his cheek, running your thumb along his cheekbone, your lips moving together until you need to take a breath, regulate your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

He settles down next to you, pulling the blanket up from the bottom of the bed so that your legs are covered. Your mind is whirling, wanting to be able to return the favor but also feeling like your bones may have been replaced with jello.

“Quite a welcome home.” You mumble to which Austin laughs, leaning comfortably against the pillows and reaching out to brush some of your hair aside.

“I’ll shave tomorrow, by the way.”

You turn your head a little, shrugging your one shoulder, “Think it might be growin’ on me.” You grin, moving to kiss him again as your fingers stroke through the scruff. Austin hums gently against your lips before kissing you back, resting back against the comforter again.

--

No regrets :)

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler drabble #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things

[kasienda]

love remains for the wip ask game? sounds painful 😭 but in a good way?

I’m stoked to start sharing this one hopefully soon! But was trying to finish the pregnancy fic first.

In this one, Marinette gave up the box under battlefield conditions and lost all her memory. I’m playing with the essence of a person and identity formation. If Marinette has the same strengths and skills and personality, but different formative experiences what changes? What stays the same? I also assumed she lost her recall memory, but not her procedural memory or subconscious and that’s been fun to play with.

It developed into this weird thing where she’s learning about her old self and is not sure she measures up or not sure she wants to be that person sometimes. She falls in love with Chat who won’t let anything happen because he knows she was in love with another boy, but doesn’t know who, which really really posses her off.

…

Preview:

Six Days Since Marinette Lost Her Memory

Marinette stood in the center of her own room. The pink walls were adorned with sketches and photos, and other unfamiliar souvenirs of her life. Her eyes jumped curiously from a hand made purse to a bowler hat decorated with a feather to a cork board covered in pictures of her friends.

She loved her room. Which made sense, she supposed. She had theoretically been the one to decorate it, but she didn’t remember decorating it. And now, the room was like a cave filled with treasure. Because each little piece of it held a secret - some part of herself that meant something to her, a clue to what her life had been like before…

Before she had woken up in the arms of a boy wearing a magic black catsuit. His heartbroken sobs had caused something in her chest to twist painfully. She hadn’t understood why then, but from that very first moment she knew she had wanted to make things better for him.

She had no idea how to do that now that she understood what she had lost. Sixteen years worth of memories.

The echoes of which were papered onto the walls and notebooks of her room just waiting to be rediscovered.

No one else seemed to share her excitement. Like Chat Noir, her parents had been devastated. She hadn’t known what to do in the face of their grief. She hadn’t known how to comfort or assure them.

They had brought her to the hospital where she had spent four excruciating days being poked and prodded, scanned, interviewed, and asked to fill out questionnaires and surveys until they all blurred together.

The neurologists found nothing wrong with her. Other than the missing memories of course. There was no apparent cause of her amnesia. In fact, her memory loss didn’t line up with the usual progressions and symptoms of any known type of amnesia. It was almost as if she hadn’t actually experienced any neurological disease or injury at all. It was more like her mind had just been erased. And with unprecedented symptoms and no discernible cause, the doctors had been unable to say whether her memory would return or not.

Which had upset her parents all over again.

But not her.

Which was puzzling. It seemed like she should be upset that she had lost all of her life. But she only felt a curiosity towards the events that came before her memory began. She was curious! It was her life.

But she wasn’t sad. Or angry. Or anything like that.

Perhaps it was because she didn’t know what she had lost. And they all did. How could she miss what she couldn’t remember?

She grabbed her new sketchbook and a pencil from her desk and headed downstairs to the kitchen. She opened a cabinet and pulled out a tin filled with jasmine tea, and then set a tea kettle to heat on the stove. She moved to a different cupboard and unerringly pulled out a jar of honey.

It was strange. She had realized the day before that as long as she didn’t think about it, she knew where everything was. She could find craft supplies in her drawers and boxes. She could thread her sewing machine and apparently stitch actual clothes together. But if anyone asked her if she had something or where something was she couldn’t answer.

After adding a spoonful of honey to her empty tea cup, she took a seat at the table. She opened her sketchbook, apparently one of many that she owned, to a blank page. Within minutes she was blocking out her father’s face, a face that still filled her with warmth and security. Even though everything she knew about him she had learned only that week.

Most of her sketchbooks were filled with designs for hats and dresses. She didn’t feel any connection to those. They were pretty enough she supposed, but ever since she had woken up for the first time as far as she knew, she had only felt inspired to draw faces.

Faces seemed to hold something familiar. She still didn’t recall anything, but she felt something.

…

Thanks for the ask @thelibraryloser ! I genuinely think you’re going to love this one!!

#miraculous ladybug #wip preview #love remains #amnesia #ask answered #ask me about my wips

[sawdusst]

Theft of a Crew (Coroika Pirate AU) Chapter 3

[Markiplier voice] Hello everybody my name is Sawdust welcome back to another chapter of Theft of a Crew.

Sorry this chapter took longer than usual, I was kinda struggling to put something things together but I hope you guys enjoy it :DD

Here's the usual things:

Main thread

Previous Chapter

Word Count: 1,1671 + some edits

====== [ ⚓ ] ====== [Message in a bottle]

“Goodbye! Come again!” 

The shopkeeper had eventually showed up and as Barreleye looked for something in exchange, the inkling offered something instead.

Barreleye held the message in a bottle as they left.

“You really didn’t have to do that, you know,” Barreleye said, holding the glass bottle in his hand, “I could’ve found something… I was thinking about trading in my telescope or something since I barely use it… Hey, by the way, I don’t think I ever got your name earlier—” 

“It was really no trouble at all!” The other inkling replied with a smile. The inkling completely avoided Barreleye’s question as they turned to leave, “I should get going now. Hey, by the way, do you know anywhere I could get a new coat? Mine's falling apart."

"Oh.. I'm not really familiar with the area, sorry..." Barreleye replied, tilting his head with concern, "But I'm sure there's plenty of clothing vendors around who are willing to help you out."

"Don't worry about it!" The inkling replied, "I'll figure it out!" They turned to leave. "I'll see you around!"

As Barreleye watched the other inkling leave, his gaze shifted to the bottle in his hand.

With a loud pop the cork came off and Barreleye slid out the paper inside. He unfurled the old piece of paper as he walked, careful not to accidentally rip it. The paper’s ink was mostly faded. It was a decently sized treasure map. There were golden ink stains and smudged, messy handwriting scribbled on the paper. 

Barreleye tilted his head with confusion as he looked at it. It was a rather messy sketch with a few islands sloppily labeled. The whole map looks as if it was made in a hurry and frantically thrown together. 

The map illustrated a part of the sea that Barreleye wasn’t familiar with. He then noticed a sloppily drawn landmark circled in bright red ink. He looked over the map with a puzzled look on his face.

He noticed there was a chunk of the map missing in the corner, drenched with black ink. It appeared to have been ripped off. Barreleye walked off to the side. He rolled the map back up and carefully placed it back into the bottle. 

“I should read more into it once I meet back up with the others,” Barreleye thought to himself as he continued to peruse the marketplace.

====== [ ⚓ ] ======

The sun was starting to set. Barreleye looked towards the horizon with his shadow looming behind him. He started walking back to the docks, where he was supposed to meet back up with his crew. 

Much to his surprise, as he approached the ship, he noticed it was eerily silent at the docks. There was also a ship parallel to his that wasn’t there before. It was quiet, too quiet. Barreleye tensed, he hurried down the cobblestone path and headed towards his ship.

“I hope everyone is alright… I wonder where they are,” he thought to himself. 

The cobblestone path ended as Barreleye stepped onto the wooden docks. A few members of his crew were walking around on the ship, moving crates and walking around. Barreleye sighed a breath of relief as he hurried over to them.

“Hey! Guys!” Barreleye exclaimed as he approached the ship, “Did Tako or anyone else come back yet?”

None of his crewmates on board responded. All of their heads were lowered as they walked. Barreleye tilted his head with confusion, walking closer to the ship’s ramp. He looked up, noticing that his pirate flag was missing from its post.

"...What happened while I was gone..?"

Barreleye tried to call out to his crewmates again, but none of them seemed to hear him. Their gaze was still fixated on what they were doing. There was also no sign of Tako, Mitsuami, or Hornmet aboard the ship.

“...Huh, I guess they haven’t come back yet…” Barreleye wondered out loud. He then looked at his crew with a worried expression on his face, “What are you all doing?”

He was still met with eerie silence. Barreleye walked onto his ship. He looked at his crewmates who were all walking around. Barreleye looked down, seeing bloodstains that soaked into the wooden deck. He could feel an icy chill as he stood there.

Barreleye tensed, clenching his fists. 

“What..happened…?” Barreleye asked in a quiet voice. Barreleye hurried in front of one of his crewmates, an octoling that wore a bright blue bandana around his head and a white shirt with black shorts.

Before Barreleye could say something, the crewmate stumbled out of Barreleye’s way and continued to walk towards a set of crates behind him. Barreleye tilted his head with confusion. As the octoling trudged past him, Barreleye could see a sense of emptiness in his eyes.

Barreleye quickly turned around and grabbed his crewmate’s arm. “Hey! Wait a second— What happened while we were gone? Are you alright?”

Panic started to creep into Barreleye’s voice. His crewmate yanked his arm free from the captain’s grasp and continued to walk forward. 

Barreleye then heard a noise behind him. The sound of a door opening and footsteps hitting the wooden deck.

"Well, what do we have here?"

Barreleye perked up. He heard the captain’s cabin door open and footsteps walking out of it. Barreleye slowly turned around, turning to face the stranger aboard his ship. There was a silvery blue inkling standing before the ship, a Kensa charger resting on his shoulder carelessly. He wore a pair of black shades that obscured his eyes and a black coat with golden trim. 

“You’ve got quite a nice ship here, Captain,” He smiled at Barreleye. He then looked around the ship, kicking his feet against the wooden deck, “I like what you’ve done with the place. I hope you don't mind I had to move a few things around."

"And who are you, exactly?" Barreleye asked.

He then extended his hand to Barreleye, a smile still on his face. “You can call me Hivemind. It really is an honor to finally meet you.” 

Barreleye hesitantly shook the latter’s hand.

“Wha— What did you do to them? My crew... they're all...” Barreleye stammered. He looked down, realizing the deck he was standing on was scattered with the bloodstains of his crew. He then looked back up at the emptied gazes of his crew. “They all seem—”

“Brainwashed?” Hivemind interjected, “Don’t worry Captain, I didn’t hurt them— for the most part… They’re doing just fine! Isn’t that right everyone?” Hivemind then looked over at Barreleye’s crew.

A few crewmates nodded in response. 

“Wha-What do you mean?” Barreleye snapped.

"I've gotta admit, your crew put up a fight," Hivemind continued, "It was a bit tedious rounding all of them up. I'll admit, that was the most fun I've had in a while."

“You really think I’m going to let you do all of this?” Barreleye took a hesitant step backwards. His fingertips dug into his palm as he tried to keep his composure. “What are you going to do, kill me or something?” 

Hivemind tilted his head with confusion. He laughed for a split second. “Kill you? That's some pretty strong word choices. Do you really think I would do something like that?” 

Hivemind then placed a hand on his chest. “I’m honestly a bit offended you think that lowly of me. We literally just met and you already think I'm some kind of- murderer.

"I was just going to have you join them, wouldn't that be something?" Hivemind smiled, "A crew is nothing without their captain, of course."

Barreleye hesitated for a moment, remembering that not all of his crew was aboard. Tako, Mitsuami, Hornmet, and a few others were still walking around town…

“We promised to meet back up at sundown…” Barreleye thought to himself, “I have to go warn them or—”

Just before Barreleye could leave, two of his crewmates blocked his path. The captain flinched and staggered backwards.

“Hold on a second,” Hivemind said bluntly, “Just where do you think you’re going? We’re not done talking here.”

Barreleye looked at his crew with an uneasy expression on his face. He took a deep breath. “If it’s treasure you want, you can have it. Just let my crew go.”

“It’s really nothing personal against you,” Hivemind replied nonchalantly, “Pretty soon, this whole thing is going to feel like a bad dream.”

Hivemind then smiled at Barreleye. “And you’ll join us. Whether you like it or not.”

Barreleye reached for his cutlass. He dug his heels into the wooden deck. Hivemind noticed this and sighed with frustration. He looked off to the side.

"Oh great, here we go again," Hivemind mumbled. “I suggest you choose your next steps carefully. You’re outnumbered. If you want this to be painless, you should drop the cutlass and do as I say."

“As if I’m going to surrender to the likes of you,” Barreleye scowled.

“That’s the least painful way to go. I wouldn't want to hurt you,” Hivemind replied, “Who knows when the other members of your crew will show up to help you. You’d probably already be in rough shape by then.”

"We were all supposed to meet back here, the others could show up any moment," Barreleye retorted. He looked at the emotionless gazes of his crew. "And I wouldn't want to hurt my own crew."

"No Captain would," Hivemind replied bluntly, "Doesn't matter who you are. I wouldn't want to hurt you either."

Hivemind then trailed his gaze to the brainwashed crewmates. "..But I'm sure they would."

Barreleye hesitated, tightening his grip around the cutlass' handle. He steadied himself, thinking of his next step.

Hivemind then tilted his head curiously. “So… 

==============

Hi gamers the action's starting >:3

the things are happening!!!!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter!!! I'll try to have the next chapter out as soon as possible! But I will be busy with school since exams are coming up for me :'D I'll try my best though!

Thank you so much for reading! Have a nice day/night!

#coroika pirate au #coroika #splatoon

[theycallmemrpig]

First Thrift Haul Book, Games and Toys

I love thrifting. I know a lot of people can claim that, but I think I might have a borderline obsession. I really dislike buying new things, mainly because they cost so much and I have little ones hell bent on destroying everything in the house. So, in order to homeschool, maintain my sanity, and not go broke, thrift stores are the answer. 

I get most of my homeschooling resources there because I never know what I might find and the thrill of the hunt makes me very happy. It also beats spending a boat load on a curriculum that may or may not be used. Trust me, I’ve been there.

I try and get to the thrift store at least once a week and pick up things I think my family will enjoy. These usually include games, books, puzzles (which I usually don’t pick up unless they are sealed), and toys. I also get things to resell. I tend to stick to things that are easy to ship, like clothes, shoes, plushies, toys, and board games. I don’t do electronics because I have no time to test the items and I don’t do breakable or big items. I like to use the KISS method as often as possible.

This week I got some pretty great things. Well, great to me. Maybe not to my kids because even though I have an idea of what they might be drawn to, I can never know for sure. Unless they have a specific interest which is obvious or they come out and tell me they are into a certain thing. Like my son, who is really into Merlin right now. So I got him a couple of books on Amazon to fuel that interest.

This one and one more. 

So without further ado, here are my thrift haul items I managed to score. We will read them/play with them and I will give a review to see which ones were a hit and which ones we will be reselling/giving away.

Where in the USA is Carmen SanDiego? Wow! This game is expensive! I’m so lucky I found this for $2 at Goodwill. But don’t worry. Amazon has used ones for cheaper. I used to have this game as a kid and loved putting the capitals on all the states. That’s all I remember doing though. I don’t think I actually played the game. Either way, it’s great for learning state capitals and I was hoping my kids will like it. Unfortunately, they weren’t that into it. So I might sell it or hang onto it for a while and see what happens.

Whoowasit? From Ravensburger. I have never heard of this game but I picked it up because, well, because I judged a board game by it’s cover. But look at it! Doesn’t it look awesome? And it is! My kids wanted to play this as soon as we got it home, and I must say, it is so much fun! I think everyone knows picking up board games at thrift stores might not get you the whole game. This one had all but one piece, which we can easily substitute with a piece from another game. This game even has an awesome box that talks to you! It’s kind of like if Clue and Ghost Fighting Treasure Hunters had a baby. Anyway, I highly recommend this game, my kids loved it, I loved it, it’s a 10/10 for me. It is very expensive on amazon, but I’m sure you can find it cheaper on ebay if you are so motivated. 

Projex. This. Thing. Is. Awesome! It was untested at the thrift store and I almost didn’t pick it up because of that. They wanted $5 for it, so I decided to take a chance. Mine is missing a red cartridge, but it doesn’t matter. My kids love this thing! Face it towards a wall, turn it on, insert a cartridge, and pick up your gun. It’s like duck hunt without a console. And it keeps score for you. I could not believe it worked and was so happy when it turned on! 

Labyrinth from Sterling games. My kids actually picked this out at Goodwill. And for $3, I said okay. It came with 2 balls and the maze with 24 holes. So this is pretty self explanatory. Get the ball to the end of the maze without having them fall in the holes. My kids played with this for like 3 minutes, and then lost interest, and then lost the balls. So I probably would not recommend this game unless you know someone that is super into mazes and puzzles. I will probably be re-donating this game once I find the balls. Which might be difficult, because they are pretty small.

[favoniuscodex]

misc. modern au scenarios [ diluc, xiao ]

prompt: various modern au scenes that i feel would happen with diluc & xiao pairings: diluc x gn!reader, xiao x gn!reader warnings: none words: ~1.0k words

a/n: xiao isn't as angsty as normal because no karmic debt or whatever yadda yadda. zhongli and dainsleif were gonna be in here but i cut them out LOL

diluc - finding his old t-shirts

diluc knows danger is imminent as he hears an excited squeal from you. he's paid you little attention for the last few minutes, having left you to your own devices after you asked for permission to rifle through his closet to see what was inside. the redhead hadn't been entirely sure as to why you wanted to do such a thing, but, in his approval for you to do so, he had forgotten about a rather massive skeleton in the closet.

"diluc," you gasp in awe, pulling out a box buried far in the closet, one diluc had thought he had thrown out. your lover looks up from his phone and winces as he sees the box in your hands, recognizing it nearly immediately after years of forgetting about it. he winces, knowing its far too late to insist that you put it back, especially after you've already seen what's inside. you plop the box on the bed next to diluc and look greedily at what lies within, before pulling various objects out.

"is this a 'my chemical romance' shirt? oh my god," with little hesitation, you shrug the shirt on over your head, letting it rest on top of your shirt underneath. you look back into the box and let out another gasp, eyes widening with delight. "is this manic panic? oh my god. diluc."

your boyfriend has long since placed his phone down, watching in sheer mortification as you uncover his deepest secret. he watches, face bright red with embarrassment, as you put the puzzle pieces together and turn to look at him with a devilish grin.

"you had an emo phase?!" you squeal, far too delighted. butterflies erupt in his stomach upon seeing you in his shirt, yet you give him little time to relish in the sight as you flop onto the bed next to him, the box separating the two of you.

"... yes," diluc relents, knowing that lying to you will get him nowhere. you grin at this knowledge and diluc can't help but think about how beautiful you look as your expression contorts with amusement. peals of laughter escape your lips as the giggles wrack your body and diluc can't help but laugh alongside with you, relieved that your laughter is no worse than lighthearted amusement. but your laughter eventually comes to an end and the two of you are left staring at each other. you use a hand to push his long red locks out of his face and stare at him intently, eyes scanning over his face. diluc thinks you're about to kiss him, but you choose to speak instead.

"so, do you have any pictures? i can't picture you with black hair. also, i hope you know i'm keeping the shirt."

xiao - learning how to skateboard

your boyfriend was painfully cool. there was no other way to describe it. with a piercing gaze that intimidated some while making others swoon and an impeccable fashion sense to match, xiao was easily one of the coolest people you had ever met. which, of course, is why he had shocked you when he first asked you out. throughout all of your dates, xiao had noticed many things about you, but one had always stuck out to him.

"would you like to learn to skateboard?" xiao had asked you in the soft tone he reserved only for you. his heart had fluttered at the way your expression had lit up at his question and xiao internally kicked himself for not having asked you sooner. the simple suggestion had left you looking excited, like a kid seeing their presents christmas morning.

now, you stand in front of xiao, who extends his hands to you. beneath one of his feet rests a skateboard that you hesitantly step onto. he shifts his weight so it remains stable underneath you, bracing you as you clutch his hands tightly while stepping on. once fully balanced, xiao carefully lifts his foot up and smiles at you. you look at him with a furrowed brow.

"have you ever taught anyone how to skateboard?" you ask, unsure of the situation. xiao looks down at the skateboard then back up at you and sends you a reassuring smirk.

"no," he answers, far too confident for your own liking. your eyes widen slightly at his words and xiao realizes the mistake he's made admitting that as you wobble on the skateboard slightly. his foot instinctively returns to the board as you clutch his hands for dear life, not wanting to roll away.

"alright," xiao attempts to change the topic of conversation. "i'm going to push you gently and you're going to try to balance as you coast, okay?"

you glance at him nervously, but you nod, already missing the feel of his hands as he lets go of yours. gently, he pushes your shoulder and you begin to slowly move. next to you, xiao matches the pace of the skateboard, but the two of you don't get very far. you panic and fall into his arms, which immediately brace you as you stumble off the skateboard. you let out a nervous giggle and xiao looks down at you hunched over in his arms.

"are you okay?" xiao asks and you stand up straight and nod. he grins at you.

"you made it farther than i did the first time i learned," he confesses and your eyes light up at his words of almost-praise. he lets out a soft giggle, something that you don't hear often from him, and you smile at him. xiao takes a step back from you and holds his hands out once more, ready to brace you as you climb back onto the skateboard.

"ready to go again?" he asks and you nod, knowing your boyfriend would catch you if you fell again.

#xiao x reader #diluc x reader #genshin impact x reader #xiao #diluc #genshin impact #axia's writing

[witch-hazels-musings]

Hey there! I wasn't sure if this was something you're comfortable writing, so if not, feel free to skip! I couldn't find anything in your faq but I just wanted to make sure!

Can I request a reader who never really drinks getting a little tipsy after a particularly stressful day? Just acting kind of giggly and clingy to their s/o? Nothing dubious ofc just some fluff 🥰 for Diluc, Xiao and Kaeya?

^ This made me laugh. I am a LIGHTWEIGHT, so I tend to get drunk after like ... one beer - haha! Anyway - enjoy ;) 

Tipsy, Touchy

Warning -> flirty, touching, fluff, mentions of alcohol, and getting drunk

Includes: Diluc, Xiao, Kaeya

Character x GN Reader  |  Anthology

Diluc

He’s a bit shocked when you go beyond your normal one drink, in fact, he’s a little surprised at your demeanor in general - normally you only had a drink if the event warranted it, but today, you seemed to be throwing them back all on your own 

“Did something happen?” he asks you, his attention on the third glass you’ve begged him to pour. 

“Today,” you groan, your words already slurring a little, “was … not. good.” He can see the alcohol already making an impression on your skin. Your cheeks were flushed and you kept fussing with your hair, little strands making their own decisions as if in defiance of your touch. 

“Hmm, well don’t go overboard.” 

Once you reach your fourth drink, we gotta cut you off, too drunky. And worse, you were starting to get a little handsy with the people around you. You’d already given a few of the female patrons a hug goodbye, telling them you were the designated “send-off committee”

In fact, you were having a hard time keeping your hands to yourself especially when it came to Diluc. When he forcibly switched you from wine to water you grabbed onto his arm, or tried to convince him to lean in close so you could share with him a secret - he wouldn’t 

You thought everything was funny, and he often caught you giggling to yourself or chuckling after the small conversation you and he shared 

He wasn’t really on board with your ostentatious behavior, but he did enjoy seeing you smile in the grandiose way you were - unreserved and relentless 

As the evening beings to slow and patrons leave the bar, you were trying to work out a thought in your head. It had been floating around for a while and you weren’t doing a good job keeping it off your face. 

“Hey,” you finally speak up. You wait to finish your thought until Diluc looks at you. He’s been gathering the final glasses from the tables so he takes a bit to react to you. “Come here.” You beckon, uneasily, with your finger for him to walk closer to you. 

When he does, you wave him down so his face is close to yours. 

“You.” You point your finger at him, “are my favorite person.” There is a smirk on your face and playful energy in your eyes. 

He scoffs at you and tries to retreat but you grab his face in your hands, “Wait. Wait. Diluc Ragnvindr ... “ he’s so close to you, his face, his eyelashes, his lips … it’s too much and in defeat you let him go, dropping your head in your hands. “Ugh, you are much too attractive for me right now.” 

“You are a lot of things right now.” You peek your eyes out from over your arms and see him rubbing the back of his neck, his head turned to the side. There is no doubt in your mind he is blushing. 

“You’re blushing!” you shout. The excitement of his reaction is too much to handle. 

“Shut up.” He tosses a towel your way and disappears into the back office. 

Diluc makes a mental note to not let you drink that much in public again, not only is he worried you might do something dumb, but he worries how he will keep his composure

Xiao

Xiao would have no idea what to do with alcohol. He doesn’t touch the stuff, so he wouldn’t really know the common behaviors of inebriated people 

He’d probably take whatever you were drinking and dump it out in front of you the drunker you became - he could barely handle normal humans, let alone a drunk one 

“What are you drinking anyway?” He looks at the bottle, turning it over in his hands. 

“I don’t know, I picked it up on the way out here.” You rub your hands over your face, the wine hasn’t fully hit you but you know with the amount you drank it’s only a matter of time. 

“Is it normal for humans to drink so much, all at once?” 

“Meh, maybe? Today was the worst though, so I’m giving myself permission.” 

It’s hard to tell if he would have any reaction to your tipsy behavior other than being exhausted by it

The way you laugh at things, that to him, aren’t funny or how you try to ask him really silly questions about things he wouldn’t know anything about 

Xiao is prickly, so you’d have to push through a lot of spikes to get to the gentle core he’s given you flashes of, so don’t get offended if he reacts to your clingy-ness in an irritating way 

He just doesn’t let people in very easily, and even though you two are together, and you’ve been physical before, this level of touch might be overstimulating for him 

You look at him from the floor of the inn. He is sitting on a pillow with his eyes closed. There were many nights you spent with him where you just fit yourselves into each other's space, like pieces of a puzzle nestled tightly together. He looked so regal, and you wondered how he would act if you poked at him. 

Carefully, you crawled your way over to him with wobbly limbs. When you got close enough you whispered his name. 

“Xiao…” He opened his eyes and is startled by how close your face is to him. His arms launched to his sides to steady himself as he leaned back away from your proximity. The reaction made you laugh.

“What?” 

“Nothing, I just wanted to get closer to you.” you desperately want to touch him: his cheeks, his forehead, his collarbone, his arms and hands, you wanted to touch them all. The alcohol emboldened you. You scoot closer to him, your sides practically touching, and, in an instant, you wrap your arms around his. The grip you have is possessive. 

He sighs but doesn’t push you away. So you tread onward. You slide behind him and wrap your arms around his chest, each of your legs on either side of him Rubbing your face against his back you breathe him in, he smells like rain after a thunderstorm. 

“I like you.” You place a kiss on his exposed shoulder before resting your cheek against him. 

It’s quiet for a time, all you hear is his beating heart and slow breaths. You don’t expect him to answer you, or say anything, you know he likes you by the way he lets you cling to him like this. That’s all you’ll ever need him to say. 

“Are you always going to be this clingy when you drink?” the question breaks the silence. 

“Mm, possibly, I don’t normally drink this much. Why.” You return his question with your own, slightly tilting his body to the side so you can strain your head to look at his face. 

“No reason.” Even in the dim lighting, you can see the blush on his face. 

Kaeya

Kaeya finds your behavior hilarious. He’d be so enamored with the way you were acting and amazed it happens with only a few drinks of alcohol in you

“You’re putting those away,” he’d muse over his own beverage. 

“Well,” you’d say as you empty yet another glass. “Today sucked! So i’m drowning my stress in sweet, sweet alcohol.” 

“Cheers to that!” 

When you laugh he melts, when you giggle he nearly passes out, and he’s having a hard time not fainting right now. Everything he says to you sends you into a fit of laughter and he just can’t stop himself - he’s obsessed with you and when he can see something new that he’s never noticed before he is filled with pride 

For instance, he didn’t know that when you laugh when drinking that you shield your eyes and nose and let out breathless laughter. He didn’t know that when you had several drinks you started to get louder and louder - which may have annoyed others, but he found it endearing

“... and after finishing the bottle he passed out for three whole days. And that is why our aloof bar owner doesn’t drink.” You can’t help but laugh, you’ve heard this story already but it makes you chuckle every single time. 

“Kaeya, how many times are you going to tell that story…” Diluc warns from behind the counter, his hands dangerously wrapped around the neck of a wine bottle. 

“Oh, come on. Look at how happy it’s made them.” 

“I’m cutting you both off.” 

“Hey!” Even with the cap on your drinking for the night, you couldn’t stifle your laughter. 

Normally, Kaeya is the overly touchy one. His hands cannot keep themselves from your tempting body. So when you cling to him he finds the action rather refreshing 

Wrapping your arms around his, leaning your head on his shoulder or digging it into his arm. Scooting closer to him, practically sitting on his lap, he finds it all a riot - don’t be shocked if he helps you into a comfortable position on or between his legs 

“Kaeya,” you look at him, your head bobbing around, your cheeks the color of pomegranates, and your hair falling out of place. 

“Yes, lovely?” He helps steady you, a possessive hand wrapping around your lower back and his other moving from your shoulder or lower arm, whichever one needs the most support. 

You giggle, and the sound pulls at his heart, “Do you know that you’re handsome? Like, really, really handsome.” 

“I’m glad you think so.” 

“No, listen, it’s kinda ridiculous how attractive you are. LIKE … WhO do you think you are with this face?? hmmM?” You wave your hand in front of him as if to drive home your point. You aren’t sure what answer you wanted from him, but his laughter seems satisfactory enough and you join in shortly after. 

He finds everything you do to be adorable, but multiplied by ten when you start drinking - he will always make sure you have a good time, and as long as you are safe and happy he will be there to join in on the fun

#genshin impact #genshin impact X reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact musings #genshin impact fiction #diluc X reader #genshin diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc #kaeya x reader #kaeya #kaeya alberich #genshin kaeya #xiao x reader #genshin xiao #xiao #genshin impact xiao #genshin impact diluc #genshin impact kaeya

[thewinedark]

Any suggestions/inspiration for a STEM-focused, dark academia aesthetic? I'm something of a reformed humanities student finishing an engineering degree this time around.

I think STEM in Dark Academia is an underappreciated aesthetic. The humanities seek to understand what it is to be human, and this is a complex venture indeed. But studying STEM means you seek to understand the world around you. And my God, are there mysteries to be uncovered. Let’s go down the list together, shall we?

SCIENCE.

Latin words fall from your lips as easily as a prayer, and isn’t there piety in this? Devotion, worship? There must be, for you to be able to dig your hands into the breathing body of the world around you and have it speak back. Messily scrawled chemical equations are practically tattooed onto your arms and hands, and sometimes you wake with the molecular structure of a human red blood cell drawn carefully on your heart with no memory of putting it there, but it moves with the pulse of your heart. Bubbling beakers and plumes of emerald, cobalt, violet flame. Faded lab coats. Hair cut short or pulled back neatly, not a single tendril hanging down. Dirt under fingernails, sleeves rolled up and out of the way. You know poisons, toxins, you know the pump of blood through arteries, you know how close we are to death, and you know how it feels to hold the hand of human long dead, still cold from the cooler. Death hates you, because you are helping humanity evade it.

TECHNOLOGY.

Lines and lines of code stare back at you from the over-bright screen of your monitor. You know, you know that we could be more, that the future is a few keystrokes away if only you can organize your tumbling thoughts and the wall of symbols in front of you. You like the way robots move; tiny, carefully planned, yet oh so jerky motions that can’t help but remind you of when a baby deer takes its first quivering steps. You think humans were like this once, in the beginning. You think the movement in a motor resembles the inner workings of a human heart. You imagine the veins that pump blood through your body as wires on a circuit board delivering electricity from one place to another. Leather shoes laced as tightly as possible, tiny blueprints doodled on the soles. Bronze bells hanging from a bedroom window, a crumbled silk shirt. How far can you push at the boundaries of what is possible before something breaks? Will it be you or reality that gives first?

ENGINEERING.

What is it about the smoothing of clay into shapes that makes humanity stop and say, “This must be what it feels like to be God”? How much more can you feel it, with the power in your fingertips and in the corners of your mind to make things humans could never do? To push civilization past its breaking point and remake it anew, better, stronger, more than God ever did? What is the difference between man and machine, and should you even care in the first place? You are like God alright, you are participating in something divine, something holy. You double check every equation and think about what it means to be alive. You decide that, in the ever moving cogs of this great clock, you will be the first piece that moves, the one that pushes the others to succeed. Pencils stabbed into messy buns, lipstick stains on pale coffee cup rims. Your eyes are sharp and focused, but your thoughts are ever moving and desperate with desire to create, to bound forward into the future you are oh so carefully envisioning, every piece laid out and pinned down within an inch of its life. Children are starving, the world is burning, and you can do something, you can fix this, because if you don't, who else can? Who else will?

MATHEMATICS.

What is math? A meaningless formal game. Above the door at Plato’s Academy were inscribed the words, “Let no one enter here who is ignorant of geometry.” How can it be that both are true? A secret language exists that no one is born into, but is available to all willing to learn. Astronomy, the constant ever cycling of the universe around us, our own home a puzzle piece in a cosmic dance. Meandering lines of equations that are beautiful, beautiful, because you know what they mean and they speak to you, they sing. You write them with calligraphy pens and hang them above your desk, they are as much an expression of the human condition as a Picasso; show our creativity more than a Monet. Hands dirty from dragging them over cramped pages of numbers and graphite dust, equations traced into the foggy glass of your favorite coffee shop, messy hair and bitten down nails, math pun t-shirts under tweed blazers, the theory of relativity scrawled sloppily on your knee, the world around you the sum of shapes and numbers and you can see it, you can hear it.

STEM in Dark Academia is nonstop in its restlessness. There is always more to be discovered, further to push, limits that can and will be broken. There is a darkness to that beauty, a madness that permeates the cracks of every field. A historian could have told you not to make the atom bomb. A scientist can’t help themself from seeing how much destruction is possible.

#eloquentlyprofane #asks #stem academia #stem dark academia #dark academia #dark academia textpost #dark academia aesthetic #thewinedark #my posts #serena speaks

[pleasantanathema]

Santa Daddy | Jean Kirstein x Reader

Pairing: Jean Kirstein x Reader

Rating: Explicit 

Warnings: Daddy kink, dirty talk, thigh riding, mutual pining, friends to lovers (or, rather, idiots to lovers), lots of holiday fluff

Word Count: 6k

A/N: This is my Secret Santa gift to @whats-her-quirk​ 🎄💕 June, thank you so much for being a wonderful friend; I was truly lucky and privileged to get you as my Elf for Secret Santa! I hope this fluffy (and dirty) little fic with our best boi Jean brings you some holiday cheer! 

           There were only a few things in the world that made you happier than watching Jean Kirstein smile. Like most of your friends, you’d met him through work, but there was always something so special, almost magical, about seeing his darling smile and hearing his boisterous laugh. And you rarely passed up on a chance to see delight spread across his handsome face, which is why you couldn’t say no when he asked you to join him on a get-a-away with your friends for the holidays.

           The inquiry came after you mentioned how you wouldn’t be able to make it home for the holidays due to a winter storm blowing in. It would be the second season in a row that the weather kept you from visiting home.

           You could still hear his voice in your head, “alone? For Christmas?”

           He’d then insisted you join him and his friends at Sasha’s family cabin. It was tradition for them, a gathering of misfits finding communion together out in the wilderness for a few days before the new year. You had taken trips with your friends before to amusement parks, festivals, even to the beach at Armin’s request, but something about being invited to an intimate setting to celebrate holiday traditions had you anxious.

           So, there you were, swaddled in blankets, listening to Eren bicker with Mikasa while Sasha and Connie bustled in the kitchen to make eggnog and treats. Armin had declined to join, citing that he’d seen too many horror movies about young adults alone in cabins to feel comfortable making the trip.

           And, true to form, Jean was running late. He was always late, his mind constantly moving a mile a minute unless he consigned himself to much needed rest and relaxation. Though, this time, you felt a little lonely while waiting for him on the couch, like there was a small part of you missing as you watched the snow fall outside.

           “So, none of you guys go home for the holidays?” You looked over toward the modest, plastic tree that Sasha had thrown down from her attic to bring a little holiday cheer to the living room, a few poorly wrapped presents and bags nestled under the branches.

           “Well,” Eren cleared his throat, “we are orphans.” He pulled at Mikasa’s scarf for emphasis.

           “Oh fuck, yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

           “Don’t worry about, he just always brings it up to get sympathy gifts.” Mikasa sighed, jerking the red cloth from his hands and scowling. Eren only laughed, brushing a stray hair from his face that had come loose from the bun at his nape.

           You sunk a little deeper into the cushions, eyes glancing out the window in hopes you’d see headlights flash in the driveway.

           “Do you think Jean’s okay? He should’ve been here a while ago and the storm is getting closer.”

           “Jean, Jean, Jean,” Sasha trotted into the room, balancing a mountain of sweet-smelling cookies on a plate, “you’re always worried about him.”

           “Someone should be, guy’s an idiot.” Eren chimed in, green eyes shining from the low flames rolling in the fireplace. He and Mikasa were sitting in the floor, a game of checkers spread out before them, with more stolen pieces resting near the cunning Ackerman’s side of the board.

           Eren wasn’t wrong, but over the years you’d known your group of friends, you’d noticed just how much the man in question had grown. In his early twenties, Jean had been quite the bumbling fool, having literally met you by bumping into your shoulder while leaving work, only to look at you and mumble “god you’re beautiful,” before issuing a quick apology as he rubbed at his neck sheepishly. You’d never mentioned the moment again, though your stomach still churned with a slight thrill every time you thought about it.

           But over the years he’d managed to turn that puerility into something much more charming. He was more refined, almost infuriatingly suave, easily gaining attention from anyone and everyone. And though you sometimes hated to admit it, he’d captured your thoughts as well.

           You kept your budding crush on Jean Kirstein close to your chest, not admitting it to any of your close friends. You always figured he was out of your league, seeing that he had a new, more beautiful girlfriend just about every other month. But, despite your simmering feelings, you still allowed yourself to get closer and closer to him over the years—some might say he’s your best friend, but you might call him your most treasured vexation.

           Another hour or so went by, your time spent nibbling at cookies and reminiscing with everyone about another year passed.

           Then the door finally opened, cold air gusting into the small living room as Jean stomped his damp boots on the entry mat.

           “Have you guys opened presents yet?”

           You glanced over the back of the couch, heart tugging in your chest as you noticed snow dusted in his long hair and a sizeable red and white polka dot package in his hands.

           “No because Christmas is tomorrow, or did you forget that too?” Connie said it with crumbs in his mouth, feet kicked up on the coffee table.

           Jean laughed, running a hand through his hair before wrapping the gift in his arms like it was something valuable.

           “I know, I know, and sorry I’m late, had something important to go get.” He smiled, bright and cheery, hazel eyes bouncing between his friends and the carefully guarded box, “I ask because…uh, this needs to be opened kind of soon.”

           “Is it perishable?” Sasha perked up, already ready to go make room in the fridge if something delectable was waiting as a gift.

           “I mean…you could say that? It may or may not be alive.” He was laughing, that kind of infectious laughter that had everyone in the room grinning whether they wanted to or not.

           Jean didn’t set the present down to even take off his shoes, instead tracking snow in with him and plopping onto the couch with flurries still on shoulders. He nudged your knee with his, pushing the present toward you. You pressed your lips together, hands getting sweaty as you pieced the puzzle together.

           “Is that…?”

           “Yeah,” his grin was pulling at his cheeks, eyes so sincere and happy and it almost startled you, “it’s for you.”

           The top of the box moved, the green bow popping on top of the polka dots.

           You moved the gift into your lap, pulling off the top to find perky ears and green eyes peering up at you—a kitten, grey and striped, with long, white whiskers and a pink bow around its neck greeted you with muted curiosity. You just stared at it for a moment, and it stared back, like you were both wondering just how it got into your lap.

           “I just,” Jean was getting nervous, carding his fingers through his hair again as he waited for your reaction, “I wanted to make sure you’d never spend another holiday alone, you know?”

           You carefully picked up the little cat, watching how it stretched and yawned as you pulled it from the carefully lain blanket inside its temporary home.

           You smiled, pulling the warm little bundle to your chest.

           “Um, Jean, this cat has six toes on her paws,” you said, pressing your thumb gently against one of the extra appendages in question.

           “Six toes?!” Sasha was jumping up from her seat, bounding over to kneel in front of you and pluck one of the kitten’s paws into her fingers. The cat quickly pulled its paw back, little black toe beans curling to its chest.

           “Yeah, it’s what drew me to her. She’s extra special…” you could’ve sworn you heard him mutter something under his breath, a little musing of “just like you,” but any hushed murmur was overshadowed by the ohs and ahs of your friends gathering around to look at the adorable little creature.

           The kitten had been lulled to sleep by the car ride from the shelter to the cabin, content to just curl up in your arms as inquisitive fingers prodded at her little kitten mittens and the silky, white tufts in her ears. Even Mikasa was enraptured by the tiny animal, taking the time to retie the little pink ribbon around her neck to make a bigger, prettier bow.

           You noticed how your friends were whispering, cheeky grins pressed against eager ears as they looked between you, the precious kitten, and Jean on the couch. You were starting to feel like you were missing something, or maybe that you were at the end of a joke you hadn’t caught on to yet.

           “Thank you,” you whispered to Jean after the fuss died down, everyone returning to their seats and back to their previous fixations.

          You’d mentioned perhaps wanting a cat a few weeks ago; it was just a silly, off-hand comment you made over coffee about how you’d once read that people with cats live longer because they pick up on the nine-lives of their feline partner. You didn’t believe it to be true, but you’d mused about the idea of having a cute kitten of your own to snuggle up with on lonely nights.

           “I know it’s sudden and a lot of responsibility, so if you don’t want her—”

           “No,” you cut Jean off, bundling the kitten a little closer in your arms, your heart singing as you felt her start to purr, “no, I want her, she’s perfect.”

           Jean finally started to get settled himself, standing up and shrugging off his jacket. He was in a tight turtleneck, coal black threads stretched to their limit across his broad chest and shoulders, hugging his trim waist. You were careful not to stare for too long as he stretched his arms above his head to shake off the weariness of his drive through the snow.

           He always looked like he stepped out of a fashion catalogue, fresh and so put together that sometimes you were tempted to snap his photo when he wasn’t looking; he just looked that good all the time. He loved to wear designer clothes and keep up with the latest menswear trends, and tonight was no different, that beautiful black turtleneck (that was covered in grey fur) undoubtedly belonging to a designer whose name you probably couldn’t pronounce.

           “What are you gonna name her?”

           He sat a little closer this time on the couch, a brawny arm outstretched behind you as he leaned over to scratch at the kitten’s chin.

           “I don’t know,” you admitted, gazing down at the serene, sleepy face in your arms, “I’ll have to get to know her first.”

           “Well, I’ve been calling her Frankie.”

           “Frankie?” You smiled through your confusion, the name sounding oddly right.

           “She was pretty wild in the car and kept meowing when Frank Sinatra was on the radio.”

           “I see,” you laid the kitten down into your lap, sweeping your fingers through her fur and watching as she curled up into a tighter little circle, “well, I’ll consider it.”

           You felt warm, heavy fingers brush against the back of your neck, Jean absentmindedly painting figure eights into your prickling skin. Heat flushed to your face as you realized just how close your bodies had become—his thigh was pressed against your own, dark jeans tight and hot, the scruff of his cheeks brushing against your own as he toyed with the sleeping cat’s tail.

           There were voices all around you, the muffled sounds of your friends relaxing together falling almost on deaf ears. Your whole world felt like it just revolved around this couch, like nothing else mattered beyond the simple touches to your skin and the drowsy kitten beneath your hands. He never wanted you to spend another holiday alone, you replayed his words, the sweet sentiment finally settling into your spirit.

_______________

           You could tell everyone was starting to get a bit sleepy, a few hours spent drinking spiked eggnog and chasing the new kitten around with a feather toy having left you especially exhausted. Your head was a little swimmy as you bid everyone goodnight, the grey tabby cat following closely on your heels to your bedroom where Jean had already brought in a litter box and a bed for her to sleep in. Jean, underneath all the designer bravado and smiles, was perhaps the most thoughtful person you knew.

           But despite the heaviness in your head, you couldn’t seem to sleep. You tossed and turned in the bed, occasionally picking up your phone to scroll through it or just watch the time tick by. You had a lot of thoughts mulling around in your mind, most of them revolving around the man sleeping just right across the hall.

           Never in a million years did you expect Jean to walk in with a beautiful, perfect kitten as a gift. The little thing was back to sleeping again, this time curled around one of your feet, each exhale a little purr against your toes.

           You’d carried the weight of this crush around for too many years. You rubbed your palms against your eyes, sighing as you came to terms with your feelings for Jean for what felt like the thousandth time. Your pining was starting to take its toll, too, what with the sleeping giant so close yet so far away.

           And you still felt like you were missing something.

           Throughout the night, your friends had seemingly been playing coy, teasing Jean about getting you such a big, sentimental gift. Maybe they had all caught wind of your suppressed feelings and were poking at Jean for even daring to indulge you. Now you were just getting frustrated with your thoughts, sighing as you tried to squeeze your eyes shut and force yourself to sleep.

           But then you heard a little sound, the soft buzz of your phone against the wood of the night stand.

           Jean: You awake?

           Your heart skipped a little in your chest as you saw his name flash upon your screen. You texted him nearly every day, yet he never failed to send a little jolt of adrenaline down your spine.

           You: Yeah. Can’t sleep.

           Jean: Me either. Cabin is too fucking cold.

           You: I have a kitty asleep on my feet, definitely helps beat the chill.

           Jean: A warm kitty sounds nice right now.

           Only a few seconds passed before the next message appeared.

           Jean: Wanna come keep me company?

           Your thumb hovered over the keyboard for a moment, your mind not even thinking about the words in front of you. Instead, you were picturing Jean in his bed, hair tussled with his own phone in his hand as he texted you, light spilling over his bare chest in the dark. You wondered what he was thinking—maybe he just wanted you to bring the cat over to see him for a bit, or maybe his mind was wandering in the same place yours was, which was picturing him naked beneath his sheets.

           You set the phone down, momentarily starting to panic.

           You hadn’t prepared for this, hadn’t prepared for the possibility that Jean might be asking you to come get in his fucking bed with him. Thank god you took a leisurely shower earlier—and you still smelled good, you checked.

           You stood up from the bed, watching the kitten stretch and quickly fall back asleep on top of the blankets. You bent down to slip on your pajama pants, but then found yourself debating if you should just leave the flimsy material behind.

           If this was what you were hoping it was, walking in without pants would send the “I got the hint, I’m here to fuck,” message loud and clear.

           But if this was just “hey pal come keep me company, I’m bored,” walking into his room in nothing but a shirt and panties could be quite awkward.

           You decided to hedge your bets, stuffing your pajama bottoms back into your bag as that lingering liquid courage from the eggnog set in. If worse came to worse, you could always say you forgot to pack them.

           You carefully closed the door behind you, making sure the cat didn’t follow.

           Then, it was literally just a few steps to Jean’s room. Conveniently, his door was cracked. Did he get up and leave it open for you? Did he always sleep with his door cracked? Or had he planned all along to ask you to come over?

           You shook your head, taking a deep breath. Those inessential thoughts needed to be quieted.

           The door creaked as you slid past it, the old hinges signaling your arrival and making Jean’s attention whip towards you. His phone was still in his hand, like was watching your messages and too-eagerly anticipating your reply.

           “Hey,” you whispered into the darkness, wincing as the door kept groaning as you pushed it shut behind you. You leaned against it for a moment, too nervous to just waltz up to his bed and fall in. You chewed at the inside of your cheek as you waited for him to break the silence.

           “Aren’t you cold?” He whispered back, shifting in the bed.

           His figure was illuminated by the pale, grey light from window, the snow clouds still keeping the moon suppressed in the sky. Like you’d imagined, he was shirtless, all those hard-earned muscles on display from where he was propped up on his elbows, sheets low against his waist.

           “I thought you were cold, Mr. No Shirt.”

           “You’re not wearing pants.”

           “I’m not wearing pants,” you parroted back.

           You watched the smile spread across his face, that darling, infuriatingly pretty smile that made you a little too happy in this moment.

           He pulled his sheets back in invitation, revealing that he, too, was not wearing pants, only clad in blue boxer briefs that were sinfully tight around his upper thighs, etchings of Calvin Klein pressed against his lower stomach.

           His hands were on you before you even settled onto the mattress, warm and greedy and pulling you flush against his body. All those worried thoughts you had before vanished under his touch, the message you had been missing suddenly loud and clear: you weren’t the only one hiding your feelings. All those veiled emotions came alive beneath wandering hands, your fingers digging into the meat of his shoulders as his found the flesh of your thighs.

           “Was this what you were thinking about when you invited me here?”

           You breathed in the smell of his warm skin as you settled against him, notes of his cologne still lingering against his body.

           “This is what I think about all the time,” he confessed, nudging his thigh between your legs.

           You couldn’t stop the moan that fell from your mouth as the muscles of his thigh pressed against your aching core.

           “Me too,” you were pulling his face down to yours, thumbs against his cheeks as you pressed your lips to his.

           A satisfied sound rang from both of your throats, lips melding and slanting against one another hungrily.

           “Why didn’t you say anything?” His words were lost within the kiss, being swallowed down as you kept drinking him in.

           “Why didn’t you say anything?” You echoed back, gasping as his hands slid underneath your shirt and began to wander across your belly, reaching up toward your ribcage.

           You both knew the answer to that: you were idiots, too scared to admit feelings even though they were clearly on display for everyone around you. But now the question didn’t matter, all the answers you wanted about to be shared between your anxious bodies with starved kisses and touches.

           You shamelessly pressed yourself a little harder against his thigh, sighing as your pussy found relief against his leg. He groaned at your action, moving his thigh back and forth a little bit to see how you would react. When you whimpered, your own thighs squeezing around his, he smirked, repeating the motion of sweeping his thick, sturdy thigh back and forth between your legs.

           “You like that?” His head was tilting down, teeth nipping at your jaw and down your neck as your head fell back against the pillow.

           “Y-yes, feels so good.”

           His hands were still traveling, wandering across your heated skin like he wanted to map your curves into his memory. He groaned against your throat when he discovered you’d also forgotten to wear anything under your t-shirt, his thumbs lazily brushing the undersides of your breasts.

           You felt like you were burning beneath his sheets, like he was painting fire against your skin with every touch. His large hands engulfed your breasts, carefully kneading and rolling your soft flesh in his palms. He was eager to kiss you again, to slip his tongue past your parted lips and get addicted to your taste.

           Jean pinched and pulled at your hardening nipples, greedily taking your little mewls into his mouth. He touched you like he already knew you, pulling at your body like you were the perfect little sex doll on strings for him to play with; rocking you on his thigh, tugging at your nipples, tongue dancing in your mouth, his hair tickling your cheeks, his cock hard and hot against his stomach.

           Your panties were getting more and more wet by the second, the soaked material sinking into your folds as you rubbed yourself against the downy hairs and rounded, solid muscle of his upper thigh. His boxer briefs were bunching closer to his hips, pre-cum already staining against the fabric where his cock was imprinted into the threads. You slipped your hand down his impressive chest, fingers dipping into the elastic of his briefs.

           “Oh fuck,” he groaned against your lips, pulling back to suck in a breath as your fingertips brushed against the head of his cock, “fuck you’re so hot riding my thigh like that, so fucking wet.”

           “You did say you wanted a warm kitty.”

           Your words had him pinching harder at your nipples, making you gasp as he chuckled.

           “Mhm I can’t wait to play with your kitty, make you mine,” he punctuated his sentence by bouncing his leg up, sending electric pulses of pleasure racing over your nerves.

           You responded by pulling his cock from its confines, wrapping your fingers around it and tugging at the silken skin. God he was thick, barely fitting in your palm as you moved your wrist up and down. You suddenly felt so small against him, realizing that he was dwarfing you just by lying next to you in the bed. His long, thick fingers could spread across the entirety of your chest, the thigh sliding against your pussy was enormous, but it felt like it belonged there; you could get used to riding him like this.

          You both fell into a frenzied, delirious rhythm, your bodies bucking and panting as you found bliss against each other.

          His hands slid down your body, leaving your tender breasts and searching for a new home. He found your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he rocked you back and forth against his thigh himself, using the strength in his forearms to have your pussy pressed down against him in the most perfect way to have you seeing stars and whining his name.

          “Gonna cum, baby? Gonna cum just from riding me?”

          “Fuck, yeah, yes, please, make me cum like this.”

          Your hand had gone slack against his cock, your mind almost unable to concentrate under the waves of pleasure building and coiling inside you.

          It felt too good to have his rapacious hands on your hips, grip mean and tight as he basically fucked you against his thigh. You wanted to scream, your other hand clawing at the back of his neck for stability.

          “Baby,” he breathed, peppering a few kisses along your cheek, “could…could you call me daddy when you cum?”

          There was a hesitancy in his voice, like he was ashamed to ask such a thing.

          Your lower belly clenched, heat racing across all your nerve endings like he’d just poured sin straight out of his mouth.

          You nodded your head for him, uncontrollable moans and gasps getting in the way of your own words. The thought of calling him daddy, that sent something wicked down to your pussy, had your fingers squeezing and tugging at his cock again and your eyes falling shut.

          It felt like your sanity was breaking, like reality was splintering and this wasn’t real—you were dreaming again, weren’t you? But then you felt his cock twitch in your hand, felt your swollen clit brush against your panties and his thigh, and you were thrusted back into the actuality of your situation. You were with Jean, he was groaning in your ear, and you were about to cum all over him.

          “D—da…,” you were choking, so overwhelmed with a final cresting of bliss that you almost felt like sobbing.

          But he just clutched you more tightly, pressed you harder against him, whispering your name in encouragement to let yourself go for him.

          Then, you lost all of your sensibilities, euphoria washing over your body as you snapped and came undone with a little whine of, “daddy,” against his lips. You slowed the rocking of your hips, your heart beating out of your chest, your pussy pulsing and clenching as you rode out the last remnants of your orgasm.

          “Holy fucking shit that’s so hot, you’re so hot,” he mumbled, one of his hands smoothing against your cheek.

          “Wha—,” you smiled, shaking your head as you caught your breath, “what are you doing with a daddy kink, Jean?”

          He mimicked your smile, hands moving to slide your ruined panties down your legs and removed the rest of your clothing as he repositioned your bodies. You let him move you around like a ragdoll, so delirious in your afterglow that you barely even registered how he was hooking your legs onto his shoulders.

          “Do you not like calling me daddy?” There was a seriousness laced into his tone that told you he’d drop it if it made you uncomfortable.

          “I like it,” you fisted one of your hands in his hair, bringing his lips to yours for a slow, messy kiss, “just didn’t expect it.”

          “I’m full of surprises, baby.”

          You felt the head of his cock nudge between your wet folds, his hands back on your hips where they belonged. Your head fell back against the pillow as he started to push inside of you, stretching your walls and making your toes go almost numb from the pleasure. You felt like you were splitting apart, like a fissure was forming down the middle of your body, stemming from where he was spearing into you.

          With your legs on his broad shoulders, he was pushing you into the mattress, his hands urging your hips to relax and let him sink into your warm heat.

          “Ohhhh fuckkkk daddy,” you couldn’t help but to whine, all your senses suddenly overwhelmed again. You were drowning in him, falling deeper and deeper into the throes of heaven with every inch of his fat cock slipping inside of you.

          “God you’re so tight,” he presses his forehead to yours, keen eyes watching how your lips were falling apart and your eyebrows scrunching together in pleasure, “that’s right, daddy’s going to take such good care of you.”

          It felt like all your history with him was being wiped away, like this moment wasn’t about two friends fulfilling all their years of mutual pining, but instead about a new relationship blooming between two bodies full of lust and desire. This was about Jean fucking you senseless, about him taking control and finally having what’s belonged to him for longer than he probably even realized. You wanted to lose yourself to him, lose yourself to his appetite and just let him devour you.

          All the air left your lungs when bottomed out inside of you, your walls clenching and sucking him in. He stayed still for a moment, nearly lost himself at the feeling of your cunt wrapped so tightly around his cock.

          “So fucking perfect,” he groaned, dragging his cock out of you slowly before pressing in again, your cunt greedily sucking him back in.

          “I always have been,” you teased, one hand lost in his hair while the other slid down the expanse of his back. You bucked your hips in his hands, coaxing him to keep moving.

          “Oh fuck. Good girl.”

          His praise made you feel drunk, liquid heat rushing to your ears and between your legs.

          He began to snap his hips, repeatedly burying his cock into your depths, the angle of your body making him hit that fleshy patch inside of you. You cried out at the feeling of being so stuffed, your walls burning from the intrusion but that coil inside your belly tightening again, hotter and more intense than before.

          “Mhmmm, such a good girl, I promise,” you pressed your lips to his in reassurance, letting your breathy moans fall into his mouth as he started to get a little rougher. His pace was steady, solid, a hard motion of his cock thrusting in and out of you, each push and pull full of purpose and passion. Every plunge was making your lower stomach spasm, making pleasure burst across your body so forcefully that you felt that urge to cry again.

          “Wanted to fuck you for so long,” his face was tucked underneath your chin, mouth trailing across your throat between his words. A particularly hard suck against your neck had your back arching, breasts flattening against his chest and your nails clinging to him.

          Jean sat back on his knees, big hands smoothing down your thighs as he looked to where your bodies were conjoined, watching how your pussy enveloped his cock with every thrust of his hips, sweet skin encasing all of his length. He looked enraptured by the sight, groaning and hissing every time he pressed inside of you.

          Then his eyes were flashing up to your face, softening as he took note of your blissed-out state, your face flushed and your lip between your teeth.

          “So pretty,” he mused, a palm ghosting up to your chest to toy with one of your tits as he found a new rhythm.

          You were ensnared by the scene before you as well, eyes wide with delight as you admired the man before you. Jean felt unhinged, electric between your legs, like he’d finally let go and was pouring all his clandestine secrets into your willing body. His chestnut hair was swept over his shoulders, the muscles in his arms and across his body rolling, rounded and thick like he was marble come to life. And his face was smooth, pretty, concentrated, cheeks dusky with a dark blush as he found euphoria from within your body.

          Your hips began to match his thrusts, bucking up into him in order to feel his thick cock fall deeper into you. His strong hands encouraged you, gripping into the supple flesh of your thighs as he pressed himself into your wetness, faster and faster with every thrust.

          “Daddy,” you called out to him, having to bite back a grin as you observed how quickly you earned his attention, “you feel s-so good,” your hand was traveling down your chest, trailing over his fingers on your breast before snaking down to your clit, “p-please let me cum again.”

          You had an inkling that he would take over for you.

          His thick, long fingers hovered over your own, carefully aiding in swirling over your aching clit. You hissed, recognizing the buildup to orgasm pooling within your belly.

          Jean’s other hand slid higher upon your body, fingers lacing around your ribcage, framing the underside of your breast. He began to forcefully pull your body into his, sliding you upon and down the sheets and upon his cock. You cried out, legs tightening at his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, begging him to devour you and take what he wanted. His thumb was almost impatient on your clit, now circling so quickly that your body was shaking, lower stomach clenching and unclenching repeatedly like you were lost in a reckless tide.

          “Shit, I’m not gonna last with you squeezing me like that, baby.”

          Your mouth watered at the thought of him finding that ultimate pleasure inside of you. Your ears became tuned to the chorus of resonances between your legs, the sweet, wet sounds of skin against skin, of slick at the base of a fat cock, of Jean grunting your name like a lost prayer.

          The final chord of your sanity was threatening to snap, you could feel it again, like he was pulling the strings of your body too tightly and you were going to splinter and break with just the right swipe of his thumb.

          “I-inside,” you mewled, unable to keep your eyes open any longer as your thighs began to quake, “daddy—oh fuck, fuck—cum inside me, please,”

          God you were so fucking close to falling off the edge, and he could feel it, using his grip to bring you even harder and faster down onto your cock to get you careening and falling again.

          Your push into oblivion came when you heard him pleading, almost whining, above you, sweat dripping down his skin as his syllables flowed together, “please, please, please, fuck, cum for daddy, cum for me, please.”

          You could both feel it, how you creamed around his cock, pussy sucking him in so deliciously tight that it caused him to lose all control. His fingers dug a little too deep, his cock throbbing and pumping deep inside of you with his release. It was like the world went quiet, like a blanket of snow fell onto your bodies and hushed your sounds and cooled your skin. You could feel the heavy weight of him inside of you, like he was meant to be there. Your body relaxed, feeling like you were sinking into the mattress and he was the only thing keeping you from being lost.

          When he finally pulled his spent cock from inside you, he wasn’t gone long. His hands were back on you again, pulling you in for simple, affectionate kisses and rubbing tenderly at the places he’d perhaps explored too roughly.

          “Jean…” you cut yourself off with a yawn, fatigued limbs winding into his own.

          His thigh found its home between your legs again, both of you groaning with a mixture of lust and disgust as you felt his cum drip into a mess between your thighs.

          “Whatever it is can wait until morning, we need to sleep.”

          “Oh fuck, it’s Christmas.”

          He nuzzled your cheek, lips searching for yours.

          “Mhmm, Merry Christmas, baby.”

          You laughed, laying your head against his chest.

_______________

          You weren’t sure how long you slept, but it felt like you spent a small eternity in Jean’s bed before your eyes opened again. When you awoke, he was already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed with the kitten in his arms. She was ready to play, striped tail swishing as he dangled a toy mouse just out of her reach.

          “What time is it?” You stretched, suddenly all too aware that you were still very naked beneath the sheets.

          “It’s only eight, everyone else is still asleep aside from Mikasa who actually went for a run in the fucking snow.”

          Jean smiled, hair tucked behind his ears, and you felt your heart skip a beat as you realized just how madly in love with him you were. You always aimed to make him smile, to hear him laugh, but to see him gazing at you in the morning sun with pure adoration shining in his hazel eyes had you practically melting into the bed.

          “I meant what I said last night, you know,” he said, turning the kitten loose to run across the bed.

          “You said a lot of things last night, daddy,” you teased, watching his cheeks turn a pretty pink at the mention of that name.

          “I meant about you never spending another holiday alone. Because, you know, I’d like to…” he trailed off, rubbing at the back of his neck like he was genuinely nervous.

          You sat up, running a hand down his arm before kissing at his shoulder, momentarily getting lost in the smell and feel of him.

          “Yeah, I’d like that.”

          No one was surprised that the two of you, and the kitten, spent every single holiday together thereafter, mostly naked, and always smiling.

#jean kirstein #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein x you #aot jean #aot jean kirstein #snk jean #snk jean kirstein #snk fanfiction #snk x reader #snk #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #aot #jean aot #jean kirstein fanfic

[bigwhispersbluebird]

Goodbyes with BTS (Maknae Line)

Warnings: Mentions of covid-19, implied smut

 Jimin

“Honey, I am home”, Jimin announced dramatically as he entered his apartment, quickly taking off his shoes and slipping into the home slippers- his heart still thumping in his ear from running all the way to you. 

He had almost screamed in frustration when the group was called for some urgent recordings for the new album that morning. He had looked at you curled up around his body, your big brown eyes staring up at him quizzically and he almost said no because you would be going back the next day and Jimin did not want to spend a single second away from you. 

From the moment you had announced that you would finally be visiting him after being apart for over 6 months, he had been on his toes making calls and plans to assure that nothing would disturb him. But you insisted that he go to work, “At least, I will be able to pack my stuff without you clinging on to my body”, you had joked and he left hurriedly so that he could be back soon. 

But as soon as he walked into the bedroom, his eyes caught sight of the suitcases neatly lined at the farthest corner of the wall, ready to be tagged and carried- Jimin suddenly felt like somebody was plucking his heart out of his chest and without uttering another word, he quietly walked towards you, standing in front of the closet and folding your shirts neatly, and engulfed you in a warm hug; his arms wrapped around your waist and his face deeply snuggled in the crook of your neck. 

Jimin inhaled the sweet scent of lavender mixed with your body musk and realized that it was home to him. Your hands gently carressed his arms as he gently placed kisses on your neck and you understood every word he couldn’t say. 

“I wish I could ask you to stay”, Jimin whispered slowly and you wished you could take away all the pain he was feeling. It was not easy to part over and over again but your studies were important for you and it was just a matter of a few years, then you both would be in the same city. Until then, this was the choice you both had made. 

Turning around, you looked him in the eye before pulling him in for a passionate kiss, growing fervent and rough with all the goodbyes between you two. 

That night, as you both lay in a tangled mess of limbs and rushed hands, you both silently promised each other to wait, no matter how long it took.

Taehyung or V

“5 am tomorrow. Be there till 3 30″.

Taehyung read the message from the notification bar and slid it across the screen, making it disappear. Then, he turned the ring on mute and pocketed his phone, he did not want to be disturbed tonight. 

Standing at the door of the art gallery, for the first time, his eyes did not linger on the beautiful pieces of art that decorated the wall. Instead, he searched for a familiar figure and the same silky locks of hair that were tangled around his long slender fingers all those years ago. 

Granted, he had not seen you since the time you both met in Italy, even then surrounded by art and music- he had searched desperately for you ever since. And it seemed like fate had decided to have mercy on him when he heard about a musical art exhibition at Prague and remembered the way you had laid your head on his chest, your hair spilling on his bare body, and talked about that particular idea being your dream. 

You stood in front of a massive painting in the far end of the room, still as awestruck by the strokes and colors on the canvas as you were the first time a boy with a boxy smile had watched you unwrap it. You remember holding onto this giant board of colors through years of remote silence and wondering if it was just a mirage or the boy that had left without a goodbye had once promised that he would come back. 

“Is this one for sale?”, a voice broke you out of your reverie and if it wasn’t for the fact that you had watched him on social media like an addict, you would have forced your brain to consider it all a cause of sleepless nights and alcohol in your system. But it was him, it was Kim Taehyung and suddenly you were 22 again with small dreams and a boy you were irrecoverably in love with. 

Without even glancing at his way again you replied as calmly as you could muster, “No. You cannot make a home out of this one”. 

Taehyung almost flinched at your words but he reminded himself that he deserved it. 

“Home only demands love”, he spoke only audible enough for your ears. 

“It demands the presence of that love at least, not the promise of one. Not words or music or stupid paintings, Mr. Kim Taehyung”, you had now turned towards him, your eyes boring into his and even though your angry eyes met his remorseful ones, the only thing you both could recognize in them was the love that had been there all those years ago. 

“I missed you, Y/N”, he whispered as he suddenly pulled you into him. His arms holding you tight and you almost stood their motionless until a lone tear slipped down your cheeks and you returned the hug. 

“You’re too late, Tae. Too late”.

He did not reply for a while, not wanting to let the moment slip away until it had to. 

But when he had finally memorized your scent and the familiar contours of your body and how it fit in his like pieces of a puzzle, he pulled back. His hand slid down your arms until they held your slender fingers in his, his thumb gently grazing the big diamond on your ring finger, “I know”.

Jungkook

Jungkook loves being surrounded with familiarity. Familiar faces that he loves and trusts, a bowl of ramyeon in a foreign city, loud cheers from fans that had been there all along, a ticket always back home and you. Perhaps, that is a reason why he hated things that disturbed the peace he had found in his life. 

But when Covid-19 hit the world, it was like his world tilted on its axes and all that was familiar was lost. Already reeling from the shock of the tour being cancelled, Jungkook had held the phone in his hand and couldn’t help but breakdown as you told him that you had no idea when you could fly to Korea. 

You had expanded your business to Korea as well which made it easier for you to spend plenty of time with your boyfriend and you both had gotten used to the travelling if it meant being together for most part of the year. 

Jungkook was not taking it well. He would spend hours at the gym then hours dancing till he could not feel anything other than the excruciating pain in his body. He would barely talk to you, only giving one word answers and never answering video calls- his heart knowing well that it could not bear looking at you and being unable to touch you or feel you. 

However, he loved you and as days passed on and the unfamiliarity of Covid-19 became familiar, Jungkook could finally see how much he had hurt you. Even through all that, you had maintained a brave face and been normal with him in the moments he would actually talk to you. You knew Jungkook and perhaps that is why you could not blame him for acting that way. You knew that this boy is made of love and purity and it would not be long till he finds his way back to you, like he always did. 

So, when one night you prepared to go to bed, a message popped up on your phone. 

“Thank you for making me realize that we can get through anything”

And along with it was an acoustic version of a song Jungkook had recently written and was yet to be released. 

As still with you played in your empty dark apartment, Jungkook’s sweet voice bouncing off the walls and hugging you, you finally let your tears fall as you whispered the words that you both craved to hold each and say:

“I miss you”.

#bts #bangtan #bangtan boys #fiction #canon #jungkook #jimin #taehyung #v #jeon jungkook #park jimin #kim taehyung #reaction #angst #fluff #love #reader #canon x reader #long distance #ldr #imagine

[shepard-ram]

Hello I'm light anon and i bring you the first chapter of an au i started awhile ago with the help of Ender anon (hi love you/p) , the supernatural au named Abnormalities and its very long

Abnormalities

Chapter One - Phasmophobia 2.5k words

:readmore:

“Prove it then.” 

Of course, Sap and Dream’s arguments always lead to some sort of challenge. Ever since you met them in middle school, it’s been like that. Sap would say something, Dream would fire back because Sap was clearly wrong in his eyes, and it would spiral from there. Today’s topic of debate: The existence of the paranormal. Specifically, ghosts.

What sparked it? A cheesy horror film you picked out for the monthly movie night. Your stereotypical ghost film with lazy jump scares with bad effects and acting.you only bought it so you four could laugh at it. You Guys laud sprawled on the couch while Sap took up the floor. All was well, Until Sap proclaimed that real ghosts wouldn’t be that shitty. Dream, heavily disagreed that ghosts even existed. George didn’t take a side but you backed Sap up. The world is to weird not to have ghosts in it.

”Oh absolutely.” Sap nodded, agreeing with your assessment.

Dream rolled his eyes “Sure, sure, just how are you going to prove me wrong? There isn’t a ‘haunted building’ anywhere in town.”

 At that moment George decided to speak up “What about the old willbeck farm?, the one a couple miles out of town. I always heard it was haunted by a kid or something.”

“That stupid place?  Those were just stories are parents told us to keep us from trespassing.”

You shrugged. “It’s a start.”

Next thing you know, you and sap blew your paychecks on ghost hunting equipment. You ordered the basics, an EMF meter, a good camera, a thermometer, you even bought a ‘Spirit box’ and some smudge sticks, all too spite Dream who complained that you were being scammed. 

You both ended up begging George to use his car to load up your equipment as he was the only one to have a large enough car for your equipment. He relented after a day of relentless begging. 

The Willbeck farm was a 40 minute drive from your home, which left a lot of room for discussion.

“You three are idiots.” 

You leaned forward to poke your head over the passenger seat. “You didn’t have to come, you know. You could have stayed back and do boring things like dressing up patches or something.”

He turned his head with narrowed eyes. “And make sure you guys didn’t fake your ‘proof?’ Not a chance.”

You laugh. “You’ll be the first one we feed to the ghosts.”

You bickered back and forth until George announced that they had finally made it. Not even seconds after he pulled into the clearing in front of the property, you and Sap practically kept out of the car and rushed to the trunk to get your gear. After distributing equipment amounts your group you took your first look at the house

The Farmhouse was much larger than you remembered reading about. It was a huge two story red building with a faded white trim. The word around it looked like it had been rotting for years and it definitely smelt like rot. AMany of the windows were broken in, and the glass was a gross brown color. The roof had some holes in it and the gutters had been ripped from the roof and laid scattered around the outside. A large barn was off to the side and had the same kind of wear to it. The entire property was surrounded by a torn up wire fencing, which had a lot of crows perched, eyeing you intensely. The Erie feeling the house gave off was intensified by the soft sound of the wind and the loud crow caws. 

If houses had a criteria to be haunted, this one checked off all the boxes

Sap let out a low whistle before lightly nudging your arm “Dude, this place makes your home look tiny!”

You scoffed at that. Sure your rented home was small, but was cheap enough to pay for while you worked your way through community college. A one bedroom, one bath, a combined kitchen/living space, all on top of a double garage was all you needed. 

It was a slow walk to the porch, all of you hesitant to actually set foot in the run down building. The steps creaked under you, and the wooden boards sunk slightly. You were at the head of the group, so you were the first one inside, taking a couple steps in the large foyer. It was full of outdated furniture, something you’d see out of the early 90’s. A large staircase sat to the left, hugging the wall as it pushed into the upstairs.  There was a door to your right, leading into what you believe was the kitchen.

You held the camera up and you got a good shot of the room, if there were no ghosts you’d at least have some cool photos.

The four of you spread out into  the room observing every corner of it. Sapnap was the one armed with the EMF reader. He waved the hand held device trying to get something, anything to read. He did manage to get one, honing onto a stuffed cow that was nestled into the couch.

It was dusty, like everything else in the room. Otherwise it was in semi good condition. It was... cute. Too cute to just be sitting in this old farmhouse for the rest of time. Dream had other opinions.

“That means nothing. It’s just a cow.” 

To be fair, it was the first time either of you had used this kind of equipment. You decided to put it in your bag, hoping to study it later. It could be a fluke, but you guys couldn’t bow down now!  The hunt has only just begun.

Every room on the first floor was subject to an EMF and Temperature checks. Dream and George fucked around while you and Sap scanned for anything that could be more than a fluke, the only thing that could be found was in the kitchen. A small carved statue of a crow.

It gave off the same readings as the cow plush, so perhaps it wasn’t a fluke. You found it sitting on the open windowsill, it was so life-like you almost mistake it for a living crow. Something was telling you that it was probably the oldest thing in the house. You gently placed it in your bag with the cow, another piece to your growing collection.

You took a moment to glance out the window. There were way too many crows sitting on the wire fence to be normal. It was the beginning of summer, so crows even migrate?

With the first floor cleared, you lead the charge upstairs. The floor boards only got louder with every step. You quietly asked whatever prime deity was watching that neither of your group would fall through the floor. The whole house felt unstable.

The top of the stairs lead you to a Hallway. It was small and only had two doors and at the end of it stood a large magnificent bookshelf.

You took the first door on the left accompanied by George while Sap and Dream opted to poke around in the hallway, formally splitting the group for the first time.

The room wasn’t very Large, nor could you tell what it was supposed to be used for as pretty much everything was covered with sheets of some kind. There were a couple of uncovered boxes laying on top of things, so it wasn’t completely boring. A couple of minutes of scavenging later, George called for your attention.

“Look at this” George presented you a beautiful lute from one of the few uncovered boxes. It was crafted out of a dark wood and had what you thought was engravings of fish along the sides. How old was this thing? Was it even usable?

“Let me see!” You asked, setting down the camera before making a grabby motion towards the lute, which was met with a questioning look from the Brit. “I want to see if it’s in tune.” 

He decided that it was a good enough answer before handing over the old thing. You strummed the strings, and it sounded surprisingly good, despite the cloud of dust that came off it. You paused for a brief moment before playing a quick melody, just a song you played back in middle school for a recital. You hummed along until yelps from outside and many thumps. 

You quickly set the Lute down and follow George out the door, fearing that something had gotten your two friends. However, instead of a gory mess, you saw Dream standing holding a book, while a whole pile of them at his feet, a few inches away from the bookshelf. 

“The shelves just collapsed on themselves.” He quietly said. The look on his face was puzzled, like he was still trying to figure out what had happened. 

“Or maybe,” Sap started. “The ghost doesn’t like you touching his stuff.”

“I’m keeping it then, the ghost doesn’t need it.” 

“What’s the title of it?” You asked as you fake over to view the damage. Dream opened the book and flipped through it. 

“It’s old, There isn’t a title nor is it in English, old English I think.”

What was such an old book doing in a relatively modern house? You shake the thought away and motioned for Dream to give it to you. “I’ll hold onto it, I want to see if I can get it translated.” Another treasure for your growing collection.

You turned back to check on George, he wasn’t next to you, instead he was messing with the final door, seeming to unjam the lock and push into the room. You decided to grab the lute and take it as a keepsake.

Picking it up again made your head feel... loud. You couldn’t tell which thoughts were yours and which were intruding. A pair of eyes were watching you somehow but the room was empty. Panic rose in your chest, your heart was beating so so loud. A cold hand touched your shoulders, yet you couldn’t tell if it meant you harm or not.

“Hey... are you okay?”

And it stopped. Everything was clear again. You turned your head to look back seeing Sap poke his head through the door. “You’ve been standing here for a while.”

You nod, “Yeah yeah... we should- we should stop splitting up.”

You’d only find out later that the Lute has the same effects that the other two objects did.

The house search was a bit of a bust. The only ‘Supernatural’ experience you had was the EMF meter going off and the strange experience with the lute which you opted not to tell your friends about, writing off as the Erie nature of the house getting to you.

Finding nothing else interesting, you took one last look at the entrance room before stepping out. You feel a weird sense of longing, something pulling at you not to go. You tried to shake off the feeling and you walked back to the car, just to put all your goodies away in the trunk. 

All that was left on your to-do list was to check the outside area and the barn. Being the person that you are, you went straight to the barn. They boys could handle the rest of the property alone. alone  The building had no doors you waltzed right though the entryway. Despite never actually being in a barn, it looked right to you.

It was devoid of any livestock, but there was Hay everywhere. Light shined through the holes in the ceiling, making the room clear enough. The soft blue liquid that was spread across the hay-

Wait. What?

Doing a second take revealed that the whole barn has some weird blue goo smeared everywhere. It looked too Fresh to be painted, it looked wet. There didn’t seem to be a set trail, just pools of it. You found most of it by a ladder that led up to a new section of the barn.

The blue substance was dripping from the loft of the barn. 

It had to be.

And you were right! Sort of. Finally dragging yourself up the old latter not really minding the blue that now stained your clothes, you found the source.

He was standing- floating?- there, as if waiting for someone. The man was tall, taller than you or any of their friends, absolutely towering over you. His entire pallet was muted, his skin was fucking Grey. His attire was strange too. Something out of a renaissance fair. What was the strangest was that he was translucent and bleeding? Out of a cut on his chest. That blue substance oozing out of his stomach onto the floor boards.

He smiled.

“You found me, little songbird.”

The temperature drop had you shivering, but that also could have been from the absolute terror of seeing a real ghost.

That loud feeling returned in full force, directing your attention onto him.. You had to go. But it was like you were frozen place. He moved to cup your face, cooing as he looked you over.

“It’s not polite to touch things that aren’t yours, yet you handle them with so much care... I don’t mind.”

He wasn’t acting out of malice, thank prime, but It didn’t make it any less uncomfortable. He was too close.

“.... pretty songbird. My pretty songbird.”

A beat past before you could hear your friends calling for you. Your head cleared for a moment so you took it and ran. Practically flying down the ladder and hurting yourself in the fall. Ignoring the pain you booked it to the car right past Dream and Sap, who were standing by the entrance to the barn.

“We- We have to go. Now. Please we need to... to...” you couldn’t really tell what you were saying, everything was moving too fast. Great Prime, that was a real ghost. You- You were talking to a ghost. A Ghost called you a Song bird. 

A Ghost.

That ended your hunt right there and then. You weren’t in a fit state to keep going. Especially not when you’re covered in... whatever this blue stuff is. You’d come to find later that you had a blue hand print on your face, right where the man had cradled your face.

You’re so out of it, you don’t realize when your friends are guiding you up the stairs to your home. One of them says something about leaving the loot in your garage, but you don’t really care. This is a future problem. You give a small thank you and a swift goodbye before passing out the second you feel your pillow under you.

So deep in sleep you don’t realize that your tiny home has a few new residents wandering about. 

Or the fact that one of them watched over you as you slept

-----------

I AM SIMPLY ASHAMED OF HOW LONG IVE BEEN PUTTING THIS OFF IT WAS A CRINE TO NOT LET Y'ALL SEE THIS EARLIER. LIGHT YOU'VE DONE A FANTASTIC JOB AAUAUGGG

#submission #tw. yandere #c: dream #c: george #c: sapnap #c: wilbur #💡 anon

[rose7420]

Art Games

Request from @laurenandloki

When Y/n is an admirer of Loki's and falls ill. It's up to him to save her.

Y/n was dying. She was used to it.

Living with an incurable disease and standing at two and a half inches tall meant that you were practically screwed in healthcare. Her life wasn’t miserable though as you might think. Her momma was her best friend and took care of her to the best of her ability. She was there on the good days where they could scavenge the walls and explore to their heart’s content. But she was also there for the bad days where her heart couldn’t pump enough blood leaving her weak and stranded in her bed.

Today was a good day for Y/n as she crept through the pathways of her walls to reach a hole. She climbed out of the wall and walked silently onto the desk. Sitting there was none other than Loki. His black hair hung down from his face, blue-green eyes scrunched in focus as he stared down at the game he played.

Y/n had found the activity odd as she had watched him time and time again. Now, she was intrigued. Each little piece connected to the others to form a masterpiece of art. Each time he finished one of these ‘art games’ he would hang them on his wall using magic. Her eyes had bugged out of her head the first time she’d watched him. Green enveloped the finished piece of art and kept itself together as it plastered itself to the wall. She always loved to see the accomplished look on Loki’s face, like he was proud of himself.

He tucked a strand of dark hair behind his ear as he fiddled with a piece of the art game between his fingertips. Y/n sat quietly down behind the cup of pencils, effectively blocking herself from Loki’s view. She squinted to see what piece Loki held and then tried to figure out where it went on his board. Her eyes roamed the already set pieces before finding the correct spot. She had to stop herself from standing and going to help Loki out.

Momma forbid her from ever revealing herself to him. She knew of her whereabouts when she ventured off these nights; only allowing her to go as long as she promised to keep hidden. And Y/n did just that. Loki rubbed his eyes wearily before she watched him rise to his great, intimidating height. Just the sight of him standing so tall reminded Y/n of why borrowers kept to themselves and never approached humans.

After stretching his long arms and legs he walked away and settled himself into his bed. A click turned the lights out and left Y/n in darkness. Y/n stood and made to climb back into her hole but a sudden urge stopped her. A burst of courage surged through her and she turned and sprinted to the piece Loki had given up on. She gathered the unique shape in her arms and walked to the spot she knew it went. Kneeling, she set the place to the right spot and relished the satisfying feeling as it slid into place. Her heart was bursting with accomplishment and happiness as she walked away.

However, when she got home and pulled back the curtain they used as a door her body began to feel weak. Her heart felt fast and slow all at the same time. Her lungs demanded more oxygen that she couldn't supply and blood that her heart couldn't deliver. She didn’t make it another step as she crumpled to her knees.

“Honey?” She faintly heard Momma call. Footsteps rushed towards her and her vision blurred as she tried to peer up at Momma's knelt figure and worried face. The last thing she felt was the shaking hand upon her clammy forehead.

Loki looked down at his puzzle in confusion. He swore that piece wasn’t there yesterday. He could only chuckle as he realized his little admirer had helped him out. He plucked another piece up and set to work. Minutes later his sensitive hearing picked up on hurried footsteps and rapid breathing. One set of footsteps and two sets of breathing. One fast and the other slow. His eyes slid to the hole he knew was in his wall and stared in confusion and awe as a positively tiny lady emerged breathless carrying an even smaller unmoving girl.

He squinted to see them better. He didn’t recognize the woman but the girl…

It was his little friend.

The mother; he presumed, took tired and cautious steps towards him. He straightened in his seat, unintentionally making his shadow swallow both little forms whole.

“Please… you must help me. She’s sick… and dying.” The woman sobbed.

Loki nodded and held out a hand. The mom approached and laid her daughter down on the row of fingers. Before the mother could step on he raised the tiny girl to his eyes.

Her complexion was pale with sickness, and he felt the clamminess of her skin upon his own. And her breathing… it was so shallow and infrequent that he prayed the little one wasn’t too far gone.

“W-wait! What are you doing to my baby girl?” The mother cried from below. Loki broke from his trance to offer her a comforting look, he lowered his face so that it was somewhat level to the mother. He could see the dark circles of her eyes, and the paleness of her own face.

“I assure you, miss, that I only want to help. Can you tell me what’s wrong with her?” She did, making sure that Loki knew she had a heart condition.

“She will die? Even if I can save her now?” He said with a shaky voice looking down at her in his palm. How small and fragile she looked there. `

Her mother nodded.

“She admires you, you know?” The mother says.

Loki looks up confused. “Why on earth would she admire someone like me?” He asks.

“She’s interested in those puzzles you do… see’s that you’re smart. Her dad left us when she was only a babe. I’m glad she has a male figure to look up to in her life.”

Loki couldn't accept that this little one had just barely started her life and soon it was about to end. He thought hard, back to the spells his mother had taught him as a child. She was an achieved healer and knew much about the properties of mending wounds and fixing illnesses. Perhaps he could do the same for the dying life in his palm. His mother’s magic had always been a buttery yellow, kind and generous to anyone who needed it.

Loki’s was cunning and sharp. Meant to inflict harm rather than stop it. He gathered all those lessons in healing he could remember and set to fixing her heart.

Y/n awoke slowly. Her eyes blinked open trying to clear the blurriness away. And when they did she screamed.

She found two blue-green eyes staring right down at her.

“Momma!” She cried frantically looking for her mother. She had been caught by Loki, a giant. The gigantic fingers around her curled in effectively trapping her. Her heart was rapid and she feared she’d pass out from the exertion. But before she started freaking out too much the giant had laid his hand down onto the table and flattened his palm.

Without thinking she scrambled off, tripping from the height. She fell into a pair of sturdy, soft arms.

“Momma!” She said relieved.

Momma wrapped her arms around her and kissed the top of her head, then her cheeks. She hugged her so tightly that Y/n couldn't breathe anymore.

A gust of air tossed her hair.

Y/n turned around to face the giant...Loki again. His chin rested on the desk, closer than ever before. She buried herself into Momma’s side.

“It’s okay...He’s a nice giant. He helped you feel better. He saved you.”

Y/n looked at the giant man again, questioning.

“You saved me?” She asked.

He nodded and offered a warm smile.

“Tell him thank you Y/n,” Momma said firmly and gently at the same time. A tone only mothers could master. Since Momma trusted Loki, it made Y/n a little less nervous.

“Thank you, mister.” She said shyly and walked to his face watching him go cross-eyed to see her better. She giggled and hugged his nose.

“It was my pleasure Little Miss,” Loki said softly.

Loki grinned from the sudden embrace. He kept his voice low, afraid of hurting these tiny people’s ears. After learning that Y/n admired him and didn’t have a father he had unwittingly adapted to being sort of a father figure to her. Perhaps he could show her there was good in this world. He watched as Y/n retreated and latched herself to her mother’s side again.

“You can come out you know,” Loki said with a grin on his face. He had spied Y/n lurking in her usual spot behind the pencil container. He had always kept it filled for her, making sure she felt comfortable enough even if she didn’t want to reveal herself.

He watched as she stepped out and looked up at him, a red tinge on her cheeks.

“I’m having trouble figuring out where this piece goes… I need your help.” He held out the tiny puzzle piece to her. She hesitantly approached his fingers and he nodded to encourage her. She took it in both arms, heaving it up. In a matter of seconds, she had ambled over to where the piece belonged and set to place it properly.

“It seems having a different perspective helps.” Loki admired it out loud. He imagined that up here, the puzzle was just well… a puzzle. But to her, it must’ve been an entire landscape, a world of its own. No wonder why she was so skilled.

“So you like puzzles?” Loki asked.

She looked up at him confused.

“Whats a puzzle?”

Loki quirked an eyebrow and leaned in closer.

“What we’re doing… what do you call it?”

“An art game.” She said crossing her small arms.

He laughed and threw his hands in the air, surrendering before they could get into an argument.

“So you like art-games?” He corrected.

She smiled and nodded.

“Good. Because I have plenty more. Perhaps you would like to help me?”

And he swore that in his many years, he had never seen the sun shine brighter than that giddy, joyful smile he received.

#giant loki #male giant #gentle giant #female tiny #loki x borrower #giant loki x tiny reader #shrunken reader #loki oneshot #loki x reader #mom borrower #sick reader