#hanging pots for balcony

[kalisbaby]

“From the River to the Sea.” A Poem by Samer Abu Hawwash, translated by Huda Fakhreddine

every street, every house, every room, every window, every balcony, every wall, every stone, every sorrow, every word, every letter, every whisper, every touch, every glance, every kiss, every tree, every spear of grass, every tear, every scream, every air, every hope, every supplication, every secret, every well, every prayer, every song, every ballad, every book, every paper, every color, every ray, every cloud, every rain, every drop of rain, every drip of sweat, every lisp, every stutter, every yamma, mother, every yaba, father, every shadow, every light, every little hand that drew in a little notebook a tree or house or heart or a family of a father, a mother, siblings, and pets, every longing, every possibility, every letter between two lovers that arrived or didn’t arrive, every gasp of love dispersed in the distant clouds, every moment of despair at every turn, every suitcase on top of

every closet, every library, every shelf, every minaret, every rug, every bell toll in every church, every rosary, every holy praise, every arrival, every goodbye, every Good Morning, every Thank God, every ‘ala rasi, my pleasure, every hill ‘an sama’i, leave me alone, every rock, every wave, every grain of sand, every hair-do, every mirror, every glance in every mirror, every cat, every meow, every happy donkey, every sad donkey’s gaze, every pot, every vapor rising from every pot, every scent, every bowl, every school queue, every school shoes, every ring of the bell, every blackboard, every piece of chalk, every school costume, every mabruk ma ijakum, congratulations on the baby, every y ‘awid bi-salamtak, condolences, every ‘ayn al- ḥasud tibla bil-‘ama, may the envious be blinded, every photograph, every person in every photograph, every niyyalak, how lucky, every ishta’nalak, we’ve missed you, every grain of wheat in every bird’s gullet, every lock of hair, every hair knot, every hand, every foot, every football, every finger, every nail, every bicycle, every rider on every bicycle, every turn of air fanning from every bicycle, every bad joke, every mean joke, every laugh, every smile, every curse, every yearning, every fight, every sitti, grandma, every

sidi, grandpa, every meadow, every flower, every tree, every grove, every olive, every orange, every plastic rose covered with dust on an abandoned counter, every portrait of a martyr hanging on a wall since forever, every gravestone, every sura, every verse, every hymn, every ḥajj mabrur wa sa ‘yy mashkur, may your ḥajj and effort be rewarded, every yalla tnam yalla tnam, every lullaby, every red teddy bear on every Valentine’s, every clothesline, every hot skirt, every joyful dress, every torn trousers, every days-spun sweater, every button, every nail, every song, every ballad, every mirror, every peg, every bench, every shelf, every dream, every illusion, every hope, every disappointment, every hand holding another hand, every hand alone, every scattered thought, every beautiful thought, every terrifying thought, every whisper, every touch, every street, every house, every room, every balcony, every eye, every tear, every word, every letter, every name, every voice, every name, every house, every name, every face, every name, every cloud, every name, every rose, every name, every spear of grass, every name, every wave, every grain of sand, every street, every kiss, every image, every eye, every tear, every yamma, every yaba, every name, every name, every name, every name, every name, every name, every name, every name, all…

#free palestine #poetry #samer abu hawwash #huda fakhreddine

[pierreguilhem]

Auckland Contemporary Landscape An example of a small contemporary shade rooftop formal garden.

#balcony garden #balcony #container garden #hanging pots #ocean view #privacy screen #plant pots and planters

[radleyarts]

Lawn Edging Landscape Photo of a mid-sized rustic partial sun backyard concrete paver landscaping in summer.

#potted plants #fire ring #rustic #wood bench #balcony #hanging plants #woodland home

[seraphdreams]

i want a pretty balcony garden that attracts butterflies!

#those pots that hang from the top of the balcony #wanna grow herbs n flowers for the fun of it #but idk where to start #seraph.announces!

[raininyourblackeyes]

Operation save my little lavender plants from snow: hopefully successfull

#why the fuck did i just wake up to everything covered in snow fam it's 4th april it makes no sense #two branches were broken but i think it'll survive #it was in a pot hanging on my window so directly exposed to snow rip i'm sorry it had to go through that #brought it to the balcony #it survived the entire winter nicely there #except winter is still going on strong in april #last week i was wearing my denim jacket and short sleeves and it's snowing and freezing again today

[echopi]

Auckland Container Garden Landscape Photo of a small contemporary shade rooftop formal garden.

#container garden #balcony garden #balcony #plant pots and planters #outdoor living #hanging pots

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Immortal Danger

Apollo x DaughterofDemeter!Reader

Summary: Apollo marries a half-blood without realizing how dangerous it can be.

Warning: PJO universe but no real PJO plot, (kind of) smut, threats, monsters, Ares slander

Word Count: 4.7K

Masterlist | Part 2

A/N Sam Claflin is my personal headcanon for Apollo and if he isn’t cast for the Titan’s Curse season I’m gonna cry

“Am I even allowed to be here?” I asked as Apollo and I materialized in his home on Mount Olympus.

“Probably not but Demeter’s already gonna be pissed when she finds out we eloped in Vegas,” Apollo smiles, pulling me down onto the couch. I laughed as he did so, taking a chance to look around. I was in awe. The ceiling to the sitting room was just a giant skylight and the sun seemed to perpetually shine through it. There were balconies in the column of the sun, revealing the upper levels of the extravagant manor decorated in gold.

“This place is incredible,” I said in awe.

“Yeah, Annabeth did a great job with the remodel. And it’s all yours,” he swore, his lips brushing against my cheek. “Everything that’s mine is also yours.”

“Really?” I challenged teasingly. “Then can I drive the sun chariot.”

He faltered. “Well… after Thalia, I don’t think-”

“I’m joking,” I assured him. “I don’t want to torch Antarctica. Or make North Africa freeze over.”

“I’ll give you lessons some day,” he promised. “Maybe when you’re a goddess and that human nervousness about dying instinct fades.” I laughed before he sprung up. “C’mon,” he said, pulling me up from the couch. “I wanna show you the bedroom.”

“Very subtle,” I chided him.

“I know,” he agreed with a cocky smile as he began climbing the stairs. “But you’re my wife now.” We went up so many levels I was beginning to get tired but Apollo was already practically dragging me up the stairs. When we went to a set of double doors I thought we were done with the stairs but there was one more flight. I followed him up, eyes widening as I realized his room made up the entire top floor.

There was a circle in the floor covered by glass with a view to the sitting room, allowing the sun to shine through the whole house. But the ceiling of the room itself was a glass dome, flooding the whole room with light. Surprisingly, it wasn’t ridiculously hot but that’s a perk of being the sun god. Several plants grew in various pots around the room—I had a sneaking suspicion he added them recently—and the walls were lined with various weapons, mostly bows and arrows. The bed itself was tucked into a sort of alcove, with pillows lining the edge of it, leaning up against the walls so as to make the whole alcove a soft bed. I noticed curtains hanging in front of the bed to shield it from the rest of the room, as well as a contraption above it against the glass probably to block the light from above.

Apollo came up next to me. “I know you’re a light sleeper so I had the curtains put in to block out the light.”

“This is incredible,” I said in awe. “But uh- do gods sleep?”

“We don’t have to but I love sleeping,” he smiled. “It’s one of the best things humans invented.”

I stepped closer to the bed, reaching down to feel the soft mattress. “Gods, do you know how long it’s been since I slept in a bed that wasn’t a twin size mattress?” I asked. Even though at 24 I was far older than any of the other campers at Camp Half-Blood, I had to stay there as the outside world had become too dangerous for me. Once I turned 22, Chiron finally let me have a room in The Big House because even the oldest campers besides for me were still around 17.

“Well,” Apollo began, getting closer until I was laying down on the mattress and his face was so close to mine I could see the gold flecks in his eyes, “I was thinking we’d consummate our marriage in this bed before sleeping,” he suggested, kissing me.

“I’d be open to that,” I laughed, kissing him back. Using godly strength, he managed to wrap an arm around my waist before pulling me up closer to the middle of the bed so our feet weren’t hanging off. As he kissed me, I could feel his hand find the zipper on the back of my wedding dress. But just as he started to bring it down, there was a bell and a shout.

“Apollo?” a masculine voice called through the house.

Our lips parted, and he rested his forehead on mine with a groan. “I hate him.”

“Who is it?” I asked.

“Hermes. Look, he can’t see you. He and I are cool now but he still can’t see you.”

“Okay,” I agreed. “I’ll just stay here.”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to my forehead before running downstairs to an incessant Hermes. As he went down the stairs I watched in amazement as his tux transformed into a t-shirt and shorts. Once he left I started looking around the room more, wary of the giant glass circle in the middle of the room. I went up to the weapons, finding various plaques describing what momentous kill each weapon was responsible for. A little bit self obsessed to have in your bedroom but, hey, that’s Apollo.

As the gods moved to the sitting room I could hear them through the glass. “I know you’ve been dating a demigod,” Hermes’ voice came. “Chiron just sent a distress signal about a missing half-blood.”

“So…?” Apollo’s voice came, trying to act nonchalant.

“I’m saying that the girl you’ve been dating is the missing half-blood. Chiron is worried sick because apparently she’s powerful but will attract a lot of monsters. And Ares is still pissed at you for putting an arrow through him during World War I. She could be in danger of him while not under Dionysus’ protection.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you, man. I haven’t seen her in a few weeks.”

“I haven’t known you to go even two days without seeing the person you’re dating.” I could hear the accusing tone in Hermes’s voice. And Apollo knew he was backed into a corner.

“Yeah well, dating a half-blood is hard. Chiron and Dionysus have her on lockdown. And do you know what Demeter would do to me? You remember how she lost it when Persephone ran off with Hades. How am I going to explain that I’m dating her half-human daughter?”

“Well you better pray Ares doesn’t find out about her or he’ll probably kill her just to piss you off.” Kill me?

“Look I’m going to have father turn her into a goddess soon anyway. She’ll be fine.”

“You’re awfully nonchalant about your little human going missing. Is it because she’s actually here?” Hermes accused.

“No!” Apollo said unconvincingly.

“Y/N!” Hermes called. “I know you’re here. Come on out.” I froze. What do I do? Obey the god or obey the other god?

“She’s not here and even if she was, she’d listen to what I said.” I didn’t move, contemplating whether or not I should hide.

“Fine, then you won’t mind if I check your bedroom.”

Σκατά. I could just hide in one of the many other rooms in the house. Hermes probably wouldn’t take the time to check every room. But once I reached the top of the stairs, the door at the bottom opened revealing a very pissed Hermes and distressed Apollo. Curse godly teleportation.

Hermes turned to Apollo. “Wanna do some explaining?” he asked sarcastically, observing my white dress. I just backed away, giving them space to come up the stairs. “Seriously, man. She could be killed because you married her and brought her here without permission,” Hermes explained as they walked up the stairs.

“But no one else is going to know because you’re not gonna tell them,” Apollo said, getting in between me and Hermes. “Right?”

He sighed. “Hi Y/N, congrats on getting married,” he finally greeted me.

“Thanks,” I answered hesitantly.

“Why is she even here?” he asked Apollo.

“Well, we were supposed to go talk to Zeus but I’m working the courage back up,” he laughed awkwardly. Hermes gave him an unamused look. “What? I’ve been single for millennia and then I’m just going to go up to father like ‘Hey, I finally decided to get married. By the way, it’s to a half-blood can you make her immortal too?’”

“So why is she still here?”

“Well Chiron has almost walked in on us having se- OW!” I cut him off with a pinch to his side. “What?” he asked, turning to me.

I could feel the heat rushing to my face now. “Shut up,” I chided him.

“Hermes of all people gets it!” he insisted, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “You can’t honestly say you’ve never brought a girl to Olympus. Like Penelope? Pan’s mother. Because Odysseus would’ve tried to murder you had he walked in on you two.”

“That’s different!” Hermes insisted.

“How?”

Hermes tried to think of an answer for a few minutes before he gave up. “Fine, whatever. But either get her back to camp or tell Zeus what’s going on before anyone else can get their hands on her.” He left no room for argument because he quite literally disappeared in a flash of light that second. Thankfully Apollo had the foresight to cover my eyes for me because Hermes had turned into a ball of light before I could react.

My husband sighed as he looked down at me. “I guess I should return you, huh? I’m sorry I just can’t face Zeus today.”

I smiled softly at him. Truthfully I was in no rush for immortality. I wasn’t quite ready to leave my life behind either way but when Apollo burst into my bedroom declaring that today was the day, I just went with it. Reaching a hand up to cup his jaw I leaned up to kiss him. “Whatever you want, you’re the one who has to take responsibility,” I reasoned.

“Thank you,” he murmured, capturing my lips. “Do you think you can be missing for just a couple more hours?” he asked, pulling away from me.

“Probably,” I agreed. He was immediately scooping my legs up before dropping me onto the bed.

My new husband spent the entire night drawing orgasms out of me until I finally got him to stop. That was the thing about gods, sometimes they didn’t know when to stop because they didn’t always understand human limitations.

I was still breathing heavily from my last peak when I fell asleep on Apollo’s chest, so exhausted.

~

Despite the fact that the sun was down, Apollo could still see his new wife clearly through the moonlight streaming through the glass ceiling. He had laid there for hours, admiring her relaxed features and reveling in the touch of her skin on his. It was nearly five o’ clock and he’d have to get up soon. As nice and sunny as summer was, he hated having to get up so early to get the sun chariot ready.

He gently stroked the hair away from her face, pressing the lightest kiss against her forehead so as not to disturb her. Sitting up, he rearranged the pillows and blankets to cover her before sliding off the bed. He threw on some clothes, leaving a t-shirt for his wife when she woke up before disappearing to the moors of England. Humans thought the sun was always going around the world in a circle but for the west, the sun began in England because that’s where the dividing line fell between the east and the west.

Setting up the sun chariot to do it’s course, Apollo set it off, watching it crest up in the sky like every day. Before he could turn to leave he sensed a new presence behind him. Turning, he found a very smug looking Ares. Trying to play it cool, Apollo smiled. “What are you doing here, brother?”

“I heard about a missing camper,” Ares began. “And then Aphrodite told me about a certain marriage certificate. Filed both on Earth and Mount Olympus.” Apollo cursed internally, that wasn’t supposed to be sent to Olympus for another week. The one time bureaucracy was efficient.

“Ares…” he began, intending to work out some sort of deal but the god of war interrupted him.

“I don’t know where you’re keeping her but until she’s immortal, she’s fair game to kill.”

“You really wanna piss off Demeter like that?” Apollo challenged, hoping her mother could provide her a little protection if he couldn’t.

Ares shrugged. “She has plenty of other children. And it’s not like I’m killing Persephone.” Demeter’s first daughter truly was the apple of her eye. She loved her demigod children but she’d get over their deaths. “Should’ve thought about this before you decided to put an arrow through me in 1918,” Ares sneered.

“That was like a hundred years ago!” Apollo insisted. “Don’t put her in the middle of this. She didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Should’ve thought about the consequences of your actions before you fell in love with a demigod,” the god of war taunted before disappearing in a flash of light.

The sun god let out an enraged grunt before transporting to his house. He practically ripped open the curtains surround the bed to make sure his bride was still there. He let out the biggest sigh of relief seeing her still laying there, unharmed. But now she was stirring due to the sudden light flooding her eyes.

~

I groaned as the sun hit my eyes and a body came to lay next to me. “I’m sorry,” Apollo said, crawling into his spot next to me. “I really wish you could go back to sleep but you need to be back at camp now,” he said. I could now hear the urgency in his voice as I opened my eyes.

“Why? What happened?” I asked, sitting up.

“Look, I uh- may not have thought this marriage all the way through,” he said nervously, handing me a shirt.

My heart dropped and pain flooded my body. “What?” I asked. I cursed myself, I knew it was too good to be true. I thought that after seeing each other for five years he was being honest about wanting to marry me. But I guess five years to an immortal god is the equivalent to a week for a human.

Apollo turned, finding my hurt expression. “No!” he immediately tried to clear up. “No it’s the fact that you’re in danger now. I don’t regret you. I’m so happy you’re my wife now and that you will be forever. I just didn’t think about the other gods’ reactions.”

“Oh,” I said quietly, relief washing over me.

“I could never regret you,” he said, coming over to sit beside me. “I love you. So much,” he swore, pressing me into his chest.

“Is this about Ares?” I asked. He suddenly froze. “I overheard you and Hermes downstairs,” I explained.

“Yes, but I swear to you nothing’s gonna happen to you. You just have to stay at camp. Ares won’t harm you if you’re in Dionysus’ territory,” he said urgently. If his grave tone was any indication, I was in serious danger. “I’m gonna talk to Zeus. We’re already married and I consulted the Fates when I met you so he’ll probably approve your immortality,” he rushed out, handing me shorts to throw on.

I was at a complete loss of what to say so I said the only thing I could think of. “Okay, I trust you.”

He smiled, lightly grasping either side of my jaw. “We have to go. I’m gonna transport with you just outside of camp. The other campers won’t be able to see me but you’re gonna say you snuck out to visit your dad because you were… I don’t know… having a hard time being the only adult at camp?” he suggested.

I nodded, grasping his hand. Immediately we were standing on the side of a familiar rural road. I looked up at the hill in front of me, just over it was Camp Half-Blood. Turning, I found nothing next to me but Apollo’s hand still intertwined in mine was proof he was still there.

He untangled his fingers from mine and gave me a gentle push on my back to encourage me to walk. I did so hesitantly, slowly walking up the hill. As I spotted the gates of camp. Stood on either side of the arch, were two campers in full battle armor. I could hear an indistinct yell as I approached. Probably alerting Chiron to my reemerged presence.

When I finally reached the “safety” of camp I could sense that Apollo was gone. He had kept a few paces behind me but disappeared once I got past Thalia’s former tree. Meanwhile, there was a new threat currently facing me as both Chiron and Mr. D stared down at me disapprovingly. They so rarely agreed with each other and Mr. D so rarely even bothered to pay attention to us that I knew I was in deep shit. “Y/N,” Chiron said like he was scolding his 16 year old daughter, “come with me.” He turned, trotting away as I followed after him like this was a walk of shame. Dionysus just disappeared.

Once I finally reached the Big House, I spotted Mr. D and a woman in the room. She radiated warmth and life despite the rage coming off of her. “Mother?” I asked.

“How could you!” she immediately yelled. “You were seeing a god behind everyone’s back? Not just any god, Apollo,” she spat angrily. “And then next I hear you’re married to him?” she asked in disbelief. “Y/N, do you know what you’ve gotten yourself into? I’ve already lost one daughter to a god. I won’t lose another one.”

Had I not been speaking to a goddess I would’ve lashed out at her. It’s not like she was ever really there for me. How can you lose someone you’ve never been there for? “You’re not gonna lose me,” I insisted, biting my tongue. “You haven’t lost Persephone either, she’s only in the Underworld for a few months. I will be on Olympus with you.”

“Locked in Apollo’s morally depraved sex mansion,” she spat, clearly upset. My jaw nearly dropped, I was so shocked she actually said that.

“Demeter, as valid as your worries are,” Dionysus reluctantly said, “there is the more pressing matter of Ares trying to murder your daughter. And he’ll keep trying until Zeus grants her immortality.”

“Are those boys still fighting about the arrow in 1918?” Demeter demanded.

“Wait, Ares wants to kill me because Apollo shot him?” I asked.

“Yes, it was an accident but Ares never forgot. Especially because it allowed the Allied powers to win. At the time, Ares was kind of betting on Germany to be the next big thing but then when the Allies all blamed it on Germany, Ares wasn’t happy.” Chiron clarified. “And he wants to destroy Apollo’s happiness in revenge.”

“I don’t want you seeing him,” my mother suddenly demanded, still hyper-focused on the wrong topic. Even Chiron and Mr. D rolled their eyes at that. “He’s a no good playboy.”

“We’re already married. I’m not gonna just stop seeing him. And I knew what I was getting myself into. I made sure he actually wanted a relationship with me before I got attached.”

“Oh please-”

“He married me, didn’t he?” I interrupted.

“Demeter, if it’s any consolation he does seem to genuinely be in love with her,” Chiron defended me. “Apollo has never married in all the millenniums he’s lived. He has finally settled down.”

She looked reluctant to accept his argument but didn’t say anything else.

“S-so what do I do now that Ares wants to kill me?” I asked. “Apollo said that he wouldn’t touch me under your protection,” I looked at Mr. D.

The god of wine still looked reluctant to participate in all this. “Well technically camp belongs to all the gods and I cannot ensure your safety. Besides, Ares has never minded breaking a few rules of war. I’ll have to bring you to a more secure place whilst Apollo tries to convince Zeus.”

Demeter sighed. “I will go help him too but after you are immortalized we are discussing your living arrangement,” she said with a stern finger. Before I could reluctantly agree she was gone.

“Come,” Chiron said with a hand on my back. “You must pack only your essentials. Then Dionysus will take you to the convent you’ll be staying at.”

“Convent?” I asked, stopping in my tracks.

“Well, I am the god of cults,” Mr. D reasoned from behind me. “I have a few of my followers there but enough real nuns to disguise you. You’ll be safe there.”

~

I was only at the convent for two days before I was in danger again.

I had been getting along fairly well with the other nuns. Except for one. Her name was Peggy and she seemed too friendly and was always trying to be alone with me. With this being a place that housed Dionysus’ followers I thought nothing of it until I found myself alone with her.

I had been doing my daily chores of dusting the entire convent when Peggy entered the room I was in. I thought nothing of it until I heard the lock click into place. When I turned I didn’t find the nun, I found a gorgon with a grotesque smile on her face. “Daughter of Demeter, I hadn’t expected to see you here. I heard about your little predicament.” I glanced to the open window across the room. If I could just get outside I could trap the gorgon in nature. “Poor Apollo will be so heartbroken when he realizes his bride is dead before he was even able to give her immortality.”

Grabbing a lamp, I hurled it at the monster while she was still talking. It bounced harmlessly off her, shattering but I was already throwing myself through the window. Jumping through a second story window face first probably wasn’t the best idea but I needed to get her onto the ground. As I hit the ground I felt my wrist crack but I didn’t even have time to consider it because the gorgon was bursting through the window after me. She barely missed jumping on top of me but I rolled out of her path. As she was still regaining her bearings I willed the roots of the earth to wrap around her.

Thousands of roots sprung up from the ground tangling each other and the gorgon until they secured her. Any monster worth their myth could cut through my vines but they would come so fast that the monster couldn’t keep up until they were immobilized by the earth. Once the gorgon stopped moving and had just become an unrecognizable mass of weeds, I willed them to pull her into the ground. I’m sure it was a horrific way to die, having every nutrient in your body sucked out of you from underground until you could only become a pile of ichor that would remain in the earth forever.

As soon as I sensed that her life force was gone, I allowed some vines to wrap around my wrist, using the resources of the earth to heal my broken bones. As I let out a sigh of relief at the pain subsiding, I saw a faint flash of light. Now standing a hundred feet away from me were twin brothers, each standing around six feet tall, in full Greek battle armor. I knew enough about mythology and the context of my situation to know that these were Phobos and Deimos. If they weren’t standing between me and the convent I’d try to run there for safety.

“I’m so glad that gorgon was here,” Phobos said. “If it weren’t for you using your powers we never would have found you.”

Σκατά. Well, I just took down a gorgon, I could imprison these two. I let the earth crawl up their shins but they both just looked at each other with smiles before bursting into flames. Their explosion was so violent it threw me back a few feet.

I let out a groan as pain exploded in my body. Peeling open my eyes, I found the earth underneath their feet scorched and they were laughing. I tried to grow vines around myself to pull me into the earth as protection but a blade was suddenly cutting through them and I was being pulled up by my guimpe. Curse these stupid nun outfits.

“Wait, wait, please,” I begged.

“Too bad for you we don’t get to kill you,” Deimos taunted in my face, still holding me by the guimpe. “Ares is gonna torture you to death and send the footage to your husband.”

I did the only thing I could think of. I spat in his face.

“Ew!” he yelled, dropping me to the ground. I wasted no time tearing off into the woods, barely paying attention to Phobos berating his twin.

I continued on, tearing through the woods to get far enough. Seeing a flash of light, I turned the other way, trying to escape Phobos and Deimos long enough so I could hide. “Y/N!” I heard a familiar yell but I didn’t bother to stop. For all I knew, that was one of the twins playing tricks on me.

As I tried to jump over a branch my skirt got caught, sending me to the ground with a crash. Again, curse these nun outfits. Before I could get up though, there was a weight on me. I immediately began screaming and thrashing, assuming it was either Phobos or Deimos but two hands on my face made me look straight ahead. I calmed down realizing it was Apollo currently sitting on top of me.

“Hey, hey, you’re safe,” he assured me. “It’s just me.” As I started calming down, he pulled the veil off my head. “There we go,” he soothed, pulling me up from the ground. As he was still trying to calm me down, Phobos and Deimos appeared behind him. He whirled around, pushing my body behind his. “Zeus granted her immortality. She is under his protection!”

“What we don’t know can’t be held against us,” Phobos laughed.

But before he could do anything, I found myself in a new place. Olympus, I recognized it. Staring up in awe at all the thrones and the magnificent room made of marble. Eleven gods sat around me, including Ares. A completely golden throne that seemed to shimmer was empty.

I looked around, ensuring my head was bowed to all the gods—especially Ares—I finally reached Zeus, falling to my knee.

“Y/N L/N,” Zeus’ booming voice seemed to echo across the room. “You have been granted immortality by the virtue of your husband, Apollo. With the approval of myself and the fates. I hereby grant you goddess status: Y/N, goddess of healing, daughter of Demeter, and wife of Apollo.”

I don’t know what I was expecting but it was as if an unknown burden I didn’t know I had was lifted.

I stood, unsure what to do but all of a sudden a force was hitting me. As Apollo wrapped his arms around me I knew he had been what knocked into me. “My wife’s a goddess!” he yelled, still hugging me, much to the amusement of the other Olympians.

~

A/N I'm gonna be so fucking fr I had no plot going into this I just wanted to write about Apollo so if anyone has any suggestions or requests of a part 2 that ends this better I'm happy to write them

Masterlist | Part 2

#apollo #apollo x reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo x reader #pjo series #pjo tv show #greek gods #greek god x reader #myths #mythology #greek mythology #greek mythology x reader #sun #sun god #sun god x reader #x reader

[jellitchi]

varigo lovely night animatic

i made this in a sickly haze.... i uploaded her to youtube as well feel free to check it out. under the cut is a Huge Ramble abt sum context / what happens In My Mind... also their Fancy ballroom fits n whatever

yk how theres a ball/fancy party or smth? yeah i needed stupid designs so i cranked these out might return and color them but i basically based varian n hugos design off of these just dressed down...

Anyways.

uhm i might write a Whole fic abt this with Oomf but uhm.

this takes place during the events of vat7k about a year after varian initially left, he returns to corona w his friends to find the library and rapunzel and eugene throw him a surprise birthday party. and in true disney character fashion, something horrible happens on his birthday. the gang gets caught witnessing / overhearing plans to assassinate the princess tonight. or maybe its gonna b a murder mystery party gone awry- havent decided. the group splits into two groups, the detectives and the protectors. yong and nuru are the detectives, theyre looking for evidence they can use to prove this has been planned for a long time. hugo n varian r tasked w making sure rapz n eugene done die sum horrible death as they hang out at the party. did i mention the party is The royal ball. so everyone is in stuffy/fancypants fits.

the whole running gag was gonna b rapunzel and eugene having like fifty near death experiences n its always like, Unknowingly. and hugo and varian r stressed out of their mind.

the reason varian n hugo r on Protector duty is coz theyre like Uhm. we're better at Improvising stuff. We can curve this and try n get the Killer to mess up and leave a trail for nuru n yong to go after.

anyways this animatic takes place a bit after like fifty attempts (cartoon ass flower pot almost crashes on their head, they watch someone spike their drinks and hugo runs over and drinks them both followed by an antidote varian just made, they walk through an archway and just barely miss the guillotine positioned above their head okay you get it just Silly cartoonish methods of assassination)

A Lovely Night takes place after Most of that so theyre very tired, the two get locked onto a balcony and r forced to kinda js Watch rapz n eugene hang out. varian takes a seat n is trying to sleuth out whos tryna kill his sister, he has an imaginary cork board w strings. hugo is kinda like "mann theyre kinda cute tgt. see two ppl locked on a balcony alone under the night sky would consider this romantic, goggles." n then Lovely Night!

uhm and the afterwards i think theres a figure approaching eugene and rapunzel so the two literally make a makeshift rope and throw themselves down the balcony to save them but boom they played into the assassinators plan! they were tired of varian and hugo getting in the way so they were js gonna kill em too. n then this is when rapunzel n eugene step in, n save them yeah and then they tell them everything and all is well and good and the assassins r behind bars...! Segment end....

#varian and the seven kingdoms #vat7k #varigo #varian vat7k #varian tts #hugo vat7k #tangled the series #varian tangled #fanart #lizzysart

[genshinluvr]

Happily Ever After?

Pairings: Various Princes!Genshin Men x Royal!Isekai'd!Reader (Royal AU-ish)

Summary: There was a small kingdom on Teyvat where a king and queen kept their child locked in a tower for over two decades— the public and other kingdoms do not know what this royal Highness looks like, nor do they know much of this person. However, twenty-seven princes set off to free their royal Highness from their high-rise prison. Maybe you will finally get your happily ever after by finally getting your freedom.

Note: I was supposed to finish this fic last night and had it posted a while ago, but I didn't do that 🥹 I do plan on taking a break once a month instead of constantly posting like how I usually do. There's no specific "date" for these breaks, but it will be a once-a-month type of thing. Other than that, I'm not sure how I feel about this fic, but I hope you guys somewhat like it ;v; This fic is a little bit shorter than I expected it would be, but it's better than nothing— it's not a mini-fic. Yes, all Genshin men are princes no matter who they are and what age they are. Anyway, I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: None that I know of

Word Count: 5.6k

Once upon a time, there was a kingdom ruled by a king and queen. The king and queen have a child, locked in a tower, never allowed to see the light of day. No one knew what the young royal looked like, nor did they know much of the child’s existence. Nor did they know why the king and queen kept them locked up. It could be for their protection, or the king and queen despise their child. While the kingdom was reminded of the existence of the king and queen’s child annually, the thought of the young royal was a fleeting thought. A little over two decades later, the tower where the child of the king and queen soon has many curious explorers try to climb up the structure to see the face of the mysterious royal. The same face no one is familiar with, the same face no one in the public eye has ever seen, and the same face twenty-seven men are curious to see. 

PRESENT DAY— Location: Unknown.

Twenty-seven men, also princes, crowd around the lone tower in a remote area of a small kingdom. The tower is far from the kingdom, far from civilization. It makes the men wonder how in the world the child of the king and queen is able to survive while kept far from humanity. The gray-bricked tower is fifty meters tall with purplish-pink barrel roof tiles. There is a singular window at the very top of the tower, accompanied by a balcony with a flower pot hanging from the ceiling. 

Prince Childe props his hands on his hips, staring at the balcony intently. “Well, gentlemen. Today is the day where we rescue the child of the king and queen of this small kingdom,” says Prince Childe, turning to look at the other men with determination. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Prince Gorou nervously asks, watching Prince Diluc pull a rope from a leather rucksack. 

The rope is long enough for the twenty-seven men to use as leverage to get to the window of the tower. Prince Diluc ties the rope and begins swinging the rope, scanning the towering building.

Prince Venti plops beside the leather rucksack, resting his head on the bag as he crosses his right leg over the other with wheat sticking from his lips. “Yer sure the rope is sturdy for the twenty-seven of us?” Prince Venti asks, chewing on the end of the wheat.

Prince Zhongli rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as he stands beside Prince Diluc, helping the redhead secure the knot. “Twenty-six. You’re not coming with us,” Prince Zhongli states.

Prince Venti sits up, gazing at the brown-haired Prince incredulously. Prince Zhongli turns away and continues to assist Prince Diluc. Prince Venti stutters, getting off the ground and stomping toward Prince Zhongli.

Prince Xiao glares at Venti and lightly pushes Prince Venti away from Prince Zhongli. “You stay down here and make sure no one comes. That’s the only thing you’re useful for,” Prince Xiao states, rolling his eyes.

Not wanting to start any more problems, Prince Venti grumbles and walks back to the leather rucksack and plops down beside it. While the twenty-seven princes (yes, they are all princes. There are no kings, emperors, dukes, lords, sirs, etc.) collectively agree to save the king and queen’s unknown child, they cannot stand each other’s presence. Especially Prince Zhongli and Prince Venti— the two princes are from rival kingdoms. 

Many people may wonder why the princes are working together to climb the tower when most can’t stand each other. They all share the same agenda, and that is to rescue the poor young royal from the tower the king and queen have locked their kid up for most of their life. It makes the twenty-seven men wonder how you, the mysterious royal, survive without human contact for so long. Every man is aware of your existence, and they’re all curious about who you are and why your parents decide to keep you away from the public eye. It’s not easy to keep someone of a high profile away from the limelight for over two decades. 

Prince Ayato props his hands on his hips, staring at the rope with scrutiny. “Are you certain this rope is sturdy? It won’t rip if every one of us is climbing up the tower using this rope, will it?” asks Prince Ayato.

“We’ll be fine, Prince Ayato! Chillax, my bro! I know it seems scary, but as someone who has done this plenty of times, we’ll be okay!” Prince Itto says, roughly patting the refined Prince of Inazuma on the shoulders. 

Prince Ayato sighs, rolling his eyes before giving the tall prince a small smile. While Prince Itto and Prince Ayato aren’t as close, the two would meet up from time to time to have a beetle fight. It’s a small game the two would have with each other— mostly initiated by Prince Itto, the carefree prince who gets into a lot of trouble but is always off the hook due to being a prince. 

“How are we going to get this rope to hook around that balcony? With our weight combined, I don’t think the railing of the balcony stands a chance,” Prince Kaveh sighs, tapping his foot on the ground.

Prince Wriothesley laughs and steps forward. “Gentlemen, I got this! Leave this to me, Prince Wriothesley of Fontaine,” says Prince Wriothesley, grabbing the rope from Prince Diluc’s hands and beginning spinning the rope, aiming for the balcony. 

While the princes are outside trying to get the rope to latch onto the balcony, the door to the bedroom in the tower swings open. Enters a young royal, yawning and rubbing their eyes. There’s nothing else to do in the tower except to read and sleep. You look at the clock on the wall and roll your eyes. It’s only two in the afternoon, and you’re already forced to retreat to your bedroom by one of the servants your parents assigned. 

“I’m rotting away in my high-rise prison,” you mumble, plopping on your bed and hugging your pillow before flipping over on your back. 

You have been locked away in your tower for as long as you can remember. You rarely step out of the tower. You never walk around the castle your parents reside in. Heck, you never stepped foot in that damn castle! Most importantly, you have never communicated with anyone outside of your prison aside from your parents. Your parents— the king and queen— tried to reassure you they love you and that they’re doing this for your safety, but you don’t believe them.

You toss your pillow to the foot of your bed and close your eyes. “One day, my prince will rescue me from my tower,” you whisper, dozing off.

Meanwhile, outside the tower, the men cheer loudly when the rope latches onto the railing of the balcony. Prince Wriothesley tugs on the rope, testing its durability. Prince Cyno and Prince Albedo collectively pull at the rope, nodding with approval. 

“The rope is sturdy. It doesn’t seem like it will snap under intense pressure,” says Prince Albedo, dusting his hands.

Prince Cyno shields his eyes from the sun, looking at the other men. “Alright, gentlemen. Shall we rescue their royal highness from their tower?” asks Prince Cyno, the corners of his lips quirking up.

The men grab the rope, and Prince Diluc starts climbing up the rope, mentally praying to the Archons the rope wouldn’t snap under immense weight. After all, over twenty people are climbing up the rope— just as long as the rope doesn’t break, sending everyone tumbling to the ground. 

Prince Aether wipes the beads of sweat forming at the base of his hairline. “You guys are certain this rope isn’t going to snap?” asks Prince Aether, looking at the other men worriedly.

“Relax, Prince Aether! This is the sturdiest rope to exist in Teyvat. Do you really think the rope is going to snap that easily?” Prince Thoma asks, nudging Prince Aether lightly with his elbow. 

Prince Scaramouche rolls his eyes and climbs up the rope, making sure to listen for the sounds of tearing and snapping. So far, there aren’t any noises from the rope— thankfully. Prince Scaramouche wants to get this over with and find out who this mysterious royal highness is. The same royal highness the king and queen of whatever kingdom is hiding from the public eye. 

“Does anyone find it strange how the king and queen were able to keep the identity of the young royal highness hidden for so long? How was their identity not leaked?” Prince Kazuha asks, tightening his grip on the rope as he climbs up the tower. 

Prince Heizou shrugs. “It is strange. It’s impossible to keep your child out of the limelight as a public figure, especially if your child is part of the royal family. I understand if the young Highness is still young. However, it’s been a little over two decades, and no one has caught a glimpse of what the royal Highness looks like,” Prince Heizou mutters, stroking his chin.

The men proceed to climb up the tower, eyeing the rope around the balcony’s railing. The railing is somehow managing to hold up over twenty people climbing the tower. It’s both a relief and a worry how the fence has yet to break under a lot of weight. After what felt like two hours, Prince Diluc reached the balcony and climbed over it, sighing in relief. The balcony is surprisingly bigger than he expected. 

“Where do you think this leads to? Their royal Highness’s bedroom?” Prince Kaeya asks, dusting his clothes.

Prince Diluc crosses his arms over his chest, glaring at Prince Kaeya. “Even if it does, do not put your hands on them,” Prince Diluc instructs sternly.

Prince Scaramouche rolls his eyes. “Relax, Prince Diluc. None of us are interested in touching the mysterious royal Highness,” he says.

Prince Al Haitham grabs the door handle of the balcony entrance and slowly turns the knob. To his and everyone’s surprise, the door is unlocked. Prince Al Haitham cracks the door open and slowly enters the tower, the men tip-toeing behind him. The men collectively freeze when they realize they’re in your bedroom. The bedroom is furnished with elegant, luxury furniture. But despite the luxurious furniture around the room, the room looks barren. 

“Is that who I think it is?” Prince Tighnari whispers, gesturing toward the bed.

Prince Al Haitham takes a step closer to the bed and peeks at your face. Prince Al Haitham nods and turns to the others. “I believe this is their royal Highness the king and queen have been hiding for two decades,” Prince Al Haitham whispers.

The Princes walk around your spacious bedroom, looking around curiously. Bookshelves lined up against the wall, and a fireplace nestled between the two tall bookshelves. In the corner are a small vanity and an easel. The room is filled with many activities for you to keep yourself occupied while locked in a tower for two decades.

“What should we do? Wake them up?” Prince Pantalone asks, standing at the foot of your bed, staring down at your unconscious body.

Prince Dottore shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s best for us to wake them up from their slumber. It’ll freak them out and call for security,” Prince Dottore mutters, walking over to the door and pressing his ears against the wooden door.

The masked Prince grabs the doorhandle and twists it, only for it to become stuck. Prince Dottore furrows his eyebrows and looks at the doorknob. There’s no lock from the inside, and yet the door isn’t budging. Did they lock you in the room by any chance? Prince Dottore jiggles the doorknob to double-check, and he’s correct. The door is certainly locked from the outside, and even if you want to escape, there’s no way for you to leave the room aside through the balcony. 

Prince Capitano chuckles bitterly, shaking his head. “I don’t think their royal Highness will be calling for security,” Prince Capitano comments, looking at the pictures hanging on the wall.

“I think we should give Their Royal Highness a kiss on the lips!” Prince Venti says, throwing his legs over the railing of the balcony and strutting into the room.

The men look at each other before looking over at the short Prince, who scans around the bedroom of the tower, whistling lowly. Prince Zhongli growls lowly and pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to remain calm and not explode. 

Prince Baizhu smiles at Prince Venti, tapping his fingers on his hips. “Prince Venti, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be watching and making sure there aren’t people approaching the tower?” Prince Baizhu asks.

“I knew we shouldn’t have invited him along with us. This dunce never listens when given orders,” Prince Dainsleif rolls his eyes.

Prince Venti gives the men a shit-eating grin, plops on the chair beside your bed, and stares at your sleeping face with awe. Prince Venti could stay outside and keep watch, but he doesn’t want to. Prince Pierro rubs the bridge of his nose, letting out a long, sharp exhale. The older man looks at Prince Venti, clenching his jaws.

“I am trying my best not to strangle you right now, Prince Venti,” Prince Pierro hisses.

Prince Neuvillette hums, closing his eyes. “Aren’t we all?” Prince Neuvillette chuckles bitterly, shaking his head.

Prince Venti smirks and sticks his tongue out at the other men in the room before peeking over at you. Your chest is rising and falling at a steady pace, letting him know you’re in deep sleep. While the men aren’t sure how long you have been asleep, they need to wake you up soon to rescue you from the tower. Prince Childe stands at the foot of your bed, hands propping on his hips as he stares at your face.

“They’re kind of cute! I can see why their parents locked them away in the tower for most of their life!” says the ginger-haired prince of Snezhnaya.

The men are surprised you have yet to wake up due to the amount of talking going on in your room. At first, they were whispering, but since some of them weren’t whispering, you didn’t bat an eye when each person spoke. 

Prince Itto scoffs. “Kind of? They’re very cute! I don’t know what you mean by ‘kind of,’” says Prince Itto, gesturing air quotes with both his index and middle fingers.

“How do we wake them up without freaking them out?” Prince Aether asks, scratching his head as he peeks from Prince Venti’s head.

There are many ways the twenty-seven princes can wake you up from your slumber. Either the normal way and that is to gently shake you from your sleep, or they can not wake you up. By that, one of the men can scoop you up in their arms and climb out the window with you! But the men aren’t sure how much of a heavy or light sleeper you are, so that can be a bit challenging. 

Prince Venti claps his hands, startling the others. “We can do it in a way every fairy tale book does it! Like Snow White, for example!” Venti exclaims, crossing his arms over his chest with a smug look.

Prince Neuvillette raises his eyebrows at Prince Venti, gazing at him skeptically. “Care to elaborate on that, Prince Venti?” asks the Fontainian prince. 

Prince Heizou raises his hand. “I believe he is referring to the famous kiss of life. While it happened in Snow White, it also happened in the fairy tale Sleeping Beauty,” Prince Heizou interjects. 

Kiss of life, huh? While it sounds romantic, it doesn’t seem to be the appropriate thing to do, given that you weren’t poisoned or cursed with eternal sleep until your true love kisses you, bringing you back to life. Plus, it’s not a good idea to kiss someone you met less than thirty minutes ago— especially when they’re sleeping.

Prince Zhongli glares at Prince Venti and Prince Heizou, crossing his arms over his chest. “Kissing someone without their consent and while unconscious is very distasteful. If you dare to touch them in such a way, I will bring hell on Teyvat,” Prince Zhongli thunders. 

Everyone in the room flinches when Prince Zhongli raises his voice at the two princes. The sound of blanket ruffling and a soft exhale causes every man to freeze in the room. Prince Al Haitham turns to see you moving around on your bed, groaning softly and rubbing your eyes. Prince Ayato sighs, running his hands through his hair. Bouncing with excitement, Prince Itto, Prince Childe, and Prince Venti lean over you.

Prince Ayato rolls his eyes. “Don’t lean over them like that. You’ll freak them out,” Prince Ayato hisses quietly. 

Unable to fall back asleep, you open your eyes to see three unfamiliar faces staring down at you. Your eyes widen, and you punch the closest person to you. Prince Venti yelps and backs away, clutching his nose, while Prince Itto and Prince Childe back away. You sit up and look at the unwanted guests with fear.

“Who are you people, and why are you in my room!?” You screech, holding your pillow in front of you, using it as a shield.

Prince Gorou shakes his head rapidly, waving his hands in front of him. “Please don’t scream! We’re here to rescue you!” Prince Gorou explains, peeking at the door to make sure no one hears what’s going on.

Your bottom lip quivers as you plop over to the side, hugging your pillow tightly. If this is how you die, then you accept your fate with open arms. You don’t want to die. You really don’t want to die, but if it means you’ll finally be free from your high-rise prison, then you accept your fate. 

Prince Kazuha clears his throat. “Your Highness, are you alright?” Prince Kazuha asks softly, debating if he should approach you or not, fearing he would scare you even more.

You bury your face into your pillow. “If you’re here to kill me, just do it! I accept my fate and am willing to let you all kill me like a pig in a slaughterhouse,” you say dramatically.

Your room plunges into a tense silence. You peek from your pillow to look at the intruders, waiting for their response. The men are shocked and a little offended that you assumed they would harm you. Prince Kaveh clears his throat to grab your attention and steps forward cautiously, not wanting to scare you. You sniffle and sit up, hugging your knees to your chest while gazing at the men warily. Prince Kaveh smiles at you, tucking his blond hair behind his ear.

Prince Kaveh kneels on one knee, placing his right hand over his heart. “Your Highness, we’re not here to kill you. We’re here to rescue you from your tower,” Prince Kaveh explains.

“Rescue me from my tower? How are you guys going to do that without getting caught?” You ask.

The men look away, rubbing the back of their necks. You blink at them and look over at your bedroom door. You slowly get off your bed and walk toward the door to test out the door handle. The doorknob doesn’t budge, letting you know they did not enter your room through the door like a normal person. 

“How did you—”

“We entered through your balcony,” Prince Xiao interrupts, pointing at the balcony door that’s wide open.

Prince Kaeya chuckles, adjusting the eyepatch. “Perhaps this is a reminder for everyone to lock your doors and windows,” says Prince Kaeya.

You shake your head and walk to the vanity, plopping on the stool and running your hands through your hair. You want to escape the tour with these strange men, but how are you going to do that without causing a scene? You can either leave with these men and never look back or remain at the tower, never see the light of day other than through the balcony window. Who are these men anyway?

Your parents made sure you don’t fall behind on your education— they hired the top university professors in the world to teach you many subjects, but they never mention other important figures. Well, those who are alive, of course. You take a deep breath and stand up, facing the twenty-something men. Wait, how many people are there? You start counting heads quietly, pointing at each man as you do.

Twenty-seven men stare at you while you count how many people there are in your room. After counting, you nod and clasp your hands together. “Alright, I don’t think we’ve introduced ourselves to one another. Judging by your attire, you all are important people,” you say.

Prince Diluc raises his eyebrows at you. “Do your parents not tell you who each of us are? Or about our regions and kingdoms?” asks Prince Diluc.

You squint at Prince Diluc, stroking your chin while shaking your head. Why would your parents tell you who these men are? Kingdoms and regions, huh? So not only are they important people, but they come from the kingdoms that rule the seven nations. Your parents could care less about informing you about the current reigning monarchs of each region because they assumed you wouldn’t meet anyone from the seven regions.

The men start introducing themselves and saying what regions and kingdoms they’re from while you try to remember the names of each face. After ten minutes, every man has introduced themselves to you, and now it’s your turn. You’re not sure what to say— do you even introduce yourself as a member of the royal family, or do you present yourself as who you are? I mean, you are part of the royal family, but you’re never seen with them, nor are you seen out in public because you’re not allowed to step foot out of the high-rise prison.

“Nice to meet you all. My name’s [YN],” you introduce yourself.

Prince Thoma gazes at you with wide eyes before looking at the others. “Your Highness, you’re not going to introduce yourself as—”

You shake your head. What’s the point of introducing yourself as the child of the king and queen? The men look at each other, not saying a word. It’s not like you don’t want to introduce yourself as the child of the king and queen. The public and other kingdoms have never seen your face, and if you were to introduce yourself as whatever title within the monarchy, people would assume you’re pretending to be something you’re not. 

You clear your throat. “Are we all going to stay here, or are we going to leave? I’m worried the servants are going to pop in to check on me only to see me with twenty-seven uninvited royal guests,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. 

The men nod and usher you toward the balcony. You peek over the balcony and see an uncomfortable drop. You turn to look at the others, propping your hands on your hips. There’s no way in hell you’re going to climb down this easily. You’re willing to leave, but if it has anything to do with heights, you’re not going to be on board with it. Maybe that’s why your parents put you in a high-rise prison instead of a dungeon. 

“Is there a problem, Your Highness?” Prince Dainsleif asks, peering over the balcony before looking at you with worry.

You nod hesitantly. “Yes, but I don’t think we have time to worry about my worries right now,” you say, reaching for the rope, only for Prince Albedo to snatch it from your hands.

Prince Albedo sighs and shakes his head. “Your Highness, if you’re not comfortable with climbing out the balcony and down the rope, we can have someone carry you down,” Prince Albedo suggests.

Not wanting to waste time, Prince Al Haitham scoops you in his arms and throws you over his shoulders before grabbing the rope and climbing over the railing of the balcony. You squeeze your eyes shut and wrap your arms around his torso tightly as Prince Al Haitham descends with you over his shoulders. The others follow after Prince Al Haitham climbs down the tower. Prince Tighnari closes the balcony door before making his way down the rope.

“Okay, so you have successfully rescued me from my tower…” You trail off, continuing to cling onto Prince Al Haitham’s waist. “What’s going to happen after this? Do I live as a regular citizen now? Do I live in someone else’s kingdom? Are you guys going to take me to my parents' kingdom?” You ask.

Once everyone made it down the tower, Prince Wriothesley yanks the rope from the railing before wrapping the rope and storing it in the leather rucksack. You wiggle your feet in the grass and pause, only to realize you don’t have shoes on, nor do you have shoes on your person. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“Is there something wrong, Your Highness?” Prince Wriothesley asks, approaching you.

You press your lips into a thin line. You don’t want to be a burden if you tell them you don’t have shoes on— how could you forget to wear shoes? Then again, you rarely leave the tower, so shoes weren’t a necessity for you. 

“Did you forget something, Your Highness?” A suave voice asks.

You turn to see a shorter male leaning against the tower. You blink at the man and turn to the other princes behind you. There are twenty-seven of them, but who in the world is this man? Prince Cyno and Prince Baizhu trade looks before looking at the approaching man. The man pulls your shoes out of thin air before dropping down on one knee, helping you put your shoes on. The princes around you mutter to themselves while watching the man before you put your shoes on your feet before standing up. The man bows gracefully, tips his hat forward, and winks at you with a smirk.

“If it weren’t for me, you would be parading around the nation barefooted,” says the mysterious man.

Prince Cyno sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Prince Lyney, I did not expect to see you here,” says Prince Cyno.

Another prince? How many princes are there in Teyvat? Prince Lyney smiles at Prince Cyno and waves at him with a wide smile. At least you don’t have to worry about walking around barefooted. It’s still early in the afternoon, and your fate after leaving the castle remains a mystery. If your parents know you managed to escape the tower, who knows what they will do aside from having a search party for you. You love your parents, you really do! But you don’t see them as often as you see the servants at the tower.

“Where are we going to take their Highness,” asks Prince Scaramouche, crossing his arms over his chest.

The men fall silent and look at each other. You prop your hands on your hips and sigh. These men did not think this through. While it’s nice to be rescued, you don’t want to be seen outside of the tower if there isn’t a plan after the rescue portion of the plan. Even if the majority of the public has no idea what you look like, it’s better to be safe than sorry.

Pantalone strokes his chin. “We’re going to take you to another nation. Far away from where your kingdom and tower reside—”

You cut him off. “And have you all decided on what nation I’m going to be smuggled into?” you ask.

“That we do not,” Dottore says, shaking his head.

You visibly deflate, sighing in defeat. You’re okay with being smuggled into any nation! However, these men not knowing what nation they wanted to smuggle you into is sort of a problem. 

Prince Tighnari smiles at you sympathetically and pats your head. “Do you have a preference?” asks Prince Tighnari.

You shake your head. “Not really, no,” you reply. You look around, making sure there’s no one listening in on your conversation. “Let’s get moving before one of the servants catches us out here.”

Prince Capitano, the masked (helmeted?) prince of an unknown nation, leads the way away from the tower. You look over your shoulders at your high-rise prison one last time before turning back around. You hope if your parents have a search party over your disappearance, they will never find you. 

Even if your parents know what you look like, the entire nation and the entirety of Teyvat have no idea what you look like. So, that makes you wonder how your parents are going to have a search party for you if the entirety of Teyvat (aside from a selected few) has no idea what you look like. To be honest, just thinking about it makes you a tad bit nervous about what’s going to happen in the future.

“Something on your mind, Your Highness?” asks Prince Capitano.

You shake your head and rub your temples. “No, no, not really. Although I am starting to get a headache,” you sigh.

You’re not lying when you say you’re starting to get a headache. The back of your head is throbbing, and it makes you want to drop everything and take a nap. Prince Baizhu steps up and points at the large tree in the distance.

“Get underneath the shade of the tree, and I’ll conduct a health check-up before we continue our journey,” Prince Baizhu instructs.

Prince Pierro scoops you up in his arms and carries you to the shade. It’s warm outside, but not uncomfortably warm. It's just warm enough for you to not overheat or break out in sweats. Prince Pierro sits you down at the base of the tree and has you lean against the tree trunk. You tilt your head back and look at your surroundings. There are so many trees around you that it shocks you— not because of the number of trees, but because your parents kept you in a locked tower with a few servants for most of your life, surrounded by nothing but vegetation.

Prince Baizhu does a small check-up on you, handing you a bottle of water from the rucksack Prince Diluc was carrying. The green-haired prince starts massaging your temples while you close your eyes with contentment. 

Prince Al Haitham looks around, making sure no one is following your group. “If you don’t mind me asking, how do the servants treat you at your tower?” asks the gray-haired prince.

You crack your eyes open and look at Prince Al Haitham. “They treat me okay. I’m not allowed to leave my room unless I need to use the bathroom. They bring food to my room along with medication if I’m sick,” you reply.

The men stare at you in disbelief. From what you told them, it doesn’t sound like a comfortable lifestyle for you. Yes, they didn’t mistreat you, but you weren’t allowed to leave your room unless it was necessary. Heck, you weren’t allowed to leave your bedroom to get food. The servants bring food to your room and leave, locking the door behind them.

Prince Pierro sighs, shaking his head. “Sounds like they’re treating you like a prisoner,” Prince Pierro mutters.

“Do you know why your parents keep you locked up in the tower by any chance?” Prince Gorou asks, sitting beside you.

You shake your head. “Aside from wanting to protect me, not really. Whenever I ask them, they would brush it off or change the conversation.”

Now that you think about it, you never knew the actual reason why they kept you locked up in the tower. Your parents wanted to keep you away from the limelight, and to protect you could be an excuse for something else. 

“Well, whatever their reason is, it’s not good enough. The best thing we can do is—” Prince Tighnari freezes, his ears twitching.

Prince Ayato looks at Prince Tighnari worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

“I hear sirens from a distance,” Tighnari whispers.

Your eyes widen, and you push yourself off the ground. “Oh no,” you whisper. 

“The siren is coming from the tower,” Prince Zhongli mutters. 

You and the twenty-eight princes are in the middle of nowhere in the forest. As Prince Zhongli said, the only thing that could have sirens is the tower. Prince Zhongli grabs ahold of your wrist and carries you bridal style before running with the other princes in tow.

“What’s going to happen if we get caught? I can’t go back there! I refuse to go back to the tower,” you say, gripping the sleeves of Prince Zhongli’s coat tightly.

“We won’t get caught, Your Highness! We’ll make sure you don’t return to the tower,” says Prince Neuvillette.

You and the princes can’t possibly be caught, right? The only people (aside from you and the twenty-eight princes) are the servants. There aren’t guards around the tower unless it’s a monthly security check at the tower ordered by your parents. You can’t go back to the tower, you can’t! You refuse to go back there! The possibility of you returning to the tower is fifty-fifty, and if you were to be forced to return to your high-rise prison, chances are, the security is going to be tight, and you will be under constant surveillance. So much for a happily ever after.

Note: Before anyone makes a comment on certain characters being too old to be a prince (Pierro, Capitano, Zhongli, Venti, etc.)... mind you, Prince Charles exists, and that man did not become a king until his mother died. That man finally got the title of King in his 70s. Plus, I decided to make every man a prince because changing up titles is a little bit hard to keep up— especially when it involves almost 30 men. Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my isekai'd!Reader one-shot series and my overall taglist for my Genshin fics: @chirikoheina, @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @toobytub, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @mompt2, @chalksdreams, @thelost-in-time, @ventisweetheart, @hispasian-otaku, @juuuuuj101010, @samarill, @testsubject0012, @irisxiel, @kazuhaprnt, @lunarapple, @emilymikado, @mabie, @vinnie-w, @n8mareee, @heyimkay, @eliciana, @blesstosuisen, @goldeneclipsedragon, @jjvr4yxc, @sovermike-21-blog, @vox34, @skyyyyackerman, @undecidingfate, @nightlysunn, @faeryminnyx, @simpcreator, @lucifarts-boxers, @thelovebuggs, @urlocalheizousimp, @sunlightstarr, @asoulsreverie, @inapileofbooke

Read more of my works on my Masterlist / Masterlist 2 | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

#Genshin impact x reader #Arataki Itto x reader #Gorou x reader #Thoma x reader #Kaedehara Kazuha x reader #Xiao x reader #Albedo x reader #Zhongli x reader #Childe x reader #Venti x reader #Diluc x reader #Kaeya x reader #Kamisato Ayato x reader #Dainsleif x reader #Scaramouche x reader #Baizhu x reader #Aether x reader #Heizou x reader #Al Haitham x reader #Tighnari x reader #Cyno x reader #Kaveh x reader #Pantalone x reader #Pierro x reader #Dottore x reader #Capitano x reader #genshinluvr #Wriothesley x reader #Neuvillette x reader #Lyney x reader

[blueparadis]

╰┈➤ ASTRID ✦ CHOSO KAMO. 

⟣ ──┈ · · · + synopsis ➢ Your boyfriend comes over to take care of you but he asks if you would like to see a glimpse of heaven when you least expect it and you would let him, wouldn’t you?

+

⟣ ──┈ · · · + cw ➣fem!ex-girlfriend!reader x ex-boyfriend!choso, period + piv + unprotected,mention of creampie, service!top!choso,f!nger!ng, f!oral, aftercare; 1,6k word count. | blog navigation + koct’23 masterlist. |

The doorbell has already rang two times in a row. Your phone has been vibrating paused with short intervals in between declaring the arrival of multiple messages. You keep the half empty bottle on the kitchen counter and practically drag your feet to get the door. There is no rush. You already know who is behind that door, who is calling you and messaging you non-stop. Choso Kamo, your ex-boyfriend. Having the same workplace as your boyfriend was surely beneficial but now that he has become your ex it certainly made things more complicated than you had primarily imagined. 

“What took you so long? I was worried. Thought something—

“Choso” You call out sharply before he finishes that sentence in one breath. “I’m fine.” you say when his eyes gently land on you. He is still standing outside. He would not come in unless you ask him to. Such a gentleman he is. You do not know what came over you when you wanted to part ways with a guy like him, who is tactfully aware of boundaries. “Com—Choso pushed you aside and let himself in. He definitely picked up on your stern tone of disappointment when you called him by his name yet his serenity remains intact. Nothing fazes him much, not now, not ever. Never did before. 

“I brought some porridge for you and some medicines— he keeps them one by one, on the table as you stare at him confusingly.” You do not know why he is here nor know why he brought porridge and . . . and medicines.

“I’m fine, Choso. Why are you here?” You whine making him pause all his movements. Even though he looks at you, those same amethyst eyes that you once drowned in remind you of a thunderstorm now. 

“You called in sick. I was worried. So I thought to drop by— Choso connects the dots when he suddenly remembers that you are on your period. There are chances that might not be the case but that does not mean he can discard any possible probability and judging the weather you might have caught common cold but that still does not explain why you called in sick because you never did before actually. No matter how down you were, you would make it to the office. “ Yeah, yeah. I think I'm done. I should go. You should be resting.” He murmurs as he leans against the table keeping his hand on the edge for support. 

You bit your bottom lip. There is a twist of a knot forming near your chest as you realize how thoughtful of him it was to just drop by. Not only that, he brought porridges and medicines but you would be happier if he brought snacks and treats. Choso walks towards the exit of the apartment but you let your stupid feeling take over you and push you to grab his hand. “Actually, you can stay. At least, stay for a while then you can— you trail off because his eyes land on the hand that you are holding right now. He was right. You are on your period. It is just the first day so you are not using sanitary pads and since you broke up with him no one is there to scold you or take care of you when you throw tantrums like this. You are a free bird now.

“Like the old times' sake?” he says with a soft smile coating his face as you let go of his hand feeling embarrassed.

You chuckle at his words. Clicking your tongue you say, “Like a co-worker should. You came to see me because I called in sick. So,— He closes the gap between the two of you. He keeps his hand on the table just right beside yours. There is barely an inch of space between two index fingers. “So, uh-um- at least stay for tea or coffee” You rake your eyes from him to the pots hanging on the balcony.

“You know we are not just co-workers.” His words make you snap your gaze at him but he is looking where you were looking a moment ago. “And, I could stay if it’s morning tea,” He smirks. “or coffee,” he says, meeting your eyes. You feel his index finger move but it does not touch. “What do you say?” he asks. 

“Choso, please don’t—he places his palm over yours making you gasp. His other hand travels along your waistline bringing you closer to his body. 

“Yes, babe. what?” He asks with a rasp of breath fanning across the column of your neck as you tilt your head to avoid this sudden proximity.

“I—uhh— I just think—it's, you bit your bottom lip, unable to voice your jumbled thoughts roaming inside of your head. You place your other hand on his chest yet do not push him away while your other hand is captive under his and by now his fingers had taken refuge in between yours; you could feel the heat of his skin now. You take in a long breath before looking at him but by the time your eyes could land on his, they are already shut closed by the accumulation of heat pooling on the column of your neck as his tongue travels along your neck, his lips traces the wet path followed by a mouthful suck. You lean towards the table and finally sit as he continues to pepper kisses all over your chest. The spaghetti top you are wearing is adding fuel to the fire as he slips the bands down enough to kiss your shoulders yet not enough to let your boobs spill out.

“you were saying?” he says as one of his hands slips under your top. His index finger rests on your hard nipple.

“It's inappropriate,” you answer him reflexively and he pinches your nipple making you wince. “This.” You spread your legs. “This is,” Choso’s hand travels from your boobs into your underwear. “so inappropriate.” you finish as he inserts his finger inside you. He knows it is but you are not pushing him away nor saying that to his face. There is no resistance in your body when it comes to him. You take his face in your hands and kiss him while his fingers work along the folds of your vagina. 

“Fuck. it feels good” You say under your breath breaking the kiss. Choso sits on his knees as he holds your legs apart by the knees. His deft fingertips create crescent indecents on your skin. 

“Trust me it’ll feel a lot better now,” He exclaims.

“You won’t like it,” You protest.

“what? it's not like i haven't done it before.” He says naively even though he is more aware of your circumstances. He pushes aside the cloth to have a view of your pussy. He missed this. He missed you.

“No. nO. you won’t like it.” you try again but Choso wants to prove you wrong. Not only that, he wants you to like it too. He keeps up the eye contact before he dives his mouth onto your wet cunt. You arch a little, feeling his tongue in between your folds. Your hands at first rest over his head, caressing his hair but the moment he presses his mouth further into your hole while lapping his tongue you let out a loud moan running your hands over your nape as you arch your head simultaneously.

“Do you need me to stop?” He asks but you fail to answer. It is all gibberish again so he takes his time eating you out eliciting illicit moans from you. You tug at his head and a moment later he stands up. He has not forgotten that when you do that, you want him to stop and you want more of him, all of him. Choso unbuckles his belt with one hand. You pull the belt out of his trousers to let them hit the floor. There is no going back now. You will deal with the consequences later. You notice his boner before he finally takes off his underwear and now it stands over his stomach, tall and proud.

“No, I don't.” You say. He pushes aside your panties before pushing his cock inside of you. You can not feel your period cramps anymore, only his cock filling you full. He takes you into his lap, hunches down a little to balance your body, and waits as his hands skillfully hold you by your inner thighs, tight and firm. 

“Hold onto me, baby.” He rasps before starting to make you bounce on his cock. You do not move much. You just let him take all the control. Your arms curl around his nape, fingers skim through his hair strands as he keeps pounding his cock inside you. His irregular breaths, mixed with hot breaths and your melodious moans make him pick up the pace. You feel a knot forming along your lower tummy declaring the approaching orgasm. There is a brief moment of eye contact with him. It is all hazy but it reeks of desperation and longing. You kiss his lips, fervently like a wave kisses the sandbanks during a full moon night while his hot fluid coats your insides. There is a pause for almost half a minute before he lets you stand on the floor. Both of you are panting and catching up on your breath. He grabs the half-empty bottle, totally emptying it before grabbing a towel and wrapping himself around him. You feel his cum drip along your legs and wet your panties.

“We both need a bath.” You say, half-worried, half-fearful of what just happened.

“We sure do,” He says as he kisses your cheeks softly.

—

@semisgroupie @kentoangel @orchid3a @chosoist

#choso smut #choso x reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #angelshubnetwork #choso x female reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #choso kamo x y/n #choso kamo smut #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x female reader #cw menstruation #cw periods #cw period sex #jjk fanfic #smut #smut fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #fanfiction #fanfics #fanfictions #x female reader

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook doesn’t mind you waking him up— he just wishes it’s not when he’s in the middle of a good dream.

> fluff, suggestive / wc: 3.1k

> warnings: spider in the bathroom, mentions of alcohol, blood, and punches (nothing bad i promise <3) ; allusions to sex and a wet dream

note: welcome to another product of my insomnia, imagination, and real life experiences <3

—

“maybe we should have couple’s new year’s resolutions. it sounds more motivating if i have someone to do it with.” you utter absentmindedly before taking another sip of hot chocolate from your mug, legs crossed on the small couch, staring across the clear sky and the sunday morning life of the city.

the strumming of jungkook’s guitar ceases briefly before his fingers fiddle with the strings again. he looks up at you from his spot on the floor, a peach fluffy floor rug beside a potted bamboo palm.

“something like?”

“hmmm, sleeping early and waking up early?” you shift to look at him innocently, hugging your knees to your chest. “isn’t this nice? we don’t get to hang out in our balcony often.”

his curious expression turns sour, doe eyes squinting to glare at you as if to say you have got to be kidding me. you pout in response, feeling dejected because turns out he’s still not completely over your . . . unconscious mistake from earlier.

the annoying vehicle sounds that his instrument drowned out a while ago blare in your ears again. “how about we promise to stop disrupting each other’s dreams?”

“i don’t like it,” the frown remains painted on your face. “i only wake you up for emergencies!”

he tuts, straightening his crossed legs and leaning his back against the glass sliding door. “baby, an emergency would be a fire or a thief breaking in.”

—

you were kneeling on the floor, outstretched hands occupying your side of the bed. torn between waking jungkook up at 3am or getting the challenge accomplished on your own, you let your face fall on the bed as you pondered your options.

you did have a few round of drinks earlier that night, so it’s no wonder your bladder bothered your usual sleeping patterns. navigating the bedroom using blurry vision and wobbly feet, you hoped that your eyes were just playing tricks when you caught sight of a black creature crawling on the white bathroom wall. maybe it was one of those shapeless floating spots that dim your vision when you stand up too quickly.

however, the instinctive scream that left your mouth after you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes begged to differ. it was short, almost sounded like it got cut off. nevertheless, it was still loud. the door was left swung open, and you were only a step away from the floor mat. and yet, your boyfriend remained ignorant of his surroundings, absorbed in a dream where in he was a friendly and humble meat vendor in a kingdom among the clouds.

unfortunately, you really needed to go to the fucking toilet and there was only one person in this house fearless enough to face the evil barrier surrounding it.

and so, your hand curled around his bicep, and you allowed yourself another second of contemplation, before you gently shook his body awake.

“babe, wake up. please.”

he hummed in question tiredly, slowly stretching out his limbs and rolling over on his back. his eyes remained closed as he scratched at his cheek, sleep lines visible on his skin because his face got squished against the very corner of your pillow when he was sleeping.

“what’s wrong?” his voice came out rough and slurred, yet it was still laced with sweet concern.

“emergency! there’s a spider as big as my hand. in the bathroom. it’s by the trash, beside the toilet.” you explained swiftly in panic as you climbed on the bed, pulling at his arm in desperation. “if i don’t pee in the next three minutes, i’m gonna start crying.”

somehow, it’s easier to ask jungkook for something when he’s tired or sleepy. or both. he didn’t utter a single word as he dragged himself out of the bed. only, his lips formed a wince when his naked feet touched the cold ground.

“jungkook, put the prada boots down!”

he looked down at his hands holding the left foot of the boots he wore yesterday, before looking back at you. “why?” he was like a lost puppy, with his beady eyes and messy hair pointing at different directions.

“who kills a spider using expensive boots? use a slipper!”

“ah!” he exclaimed in realization, neatly placing it back next to its pair. “forgot i’m supposed to kill it.” he muttered to himself with a lazy smile.

“then what were you going to do with that?” you asked in bewilderment, but the question hung suspended in the air. he picked up one of your slippers beside the bathroom door before slipping inside.

and then you heard it, the sound of your thick slipper slapping the cold, tiled wall. you almost sighed in relief, until another thought entered your mind. you still feel uncomfortable with it inside your home, alive or not. when he came out empty-handed, you immediately stopped him from coming back to bed.

“throw it outside instead. please?”

and again, without a word, he did as you asked. he picked it up using tissue paper, and discarded it in the trash bin near the elevator of your apartment floor. on the other hand, you dashed to the bathroom the second they were gone.

“liar. it was only as big as half of my pinky.” jungkook grumbled as he made himself comfortable on the bed again, burying his face on your chest instead of your pillow this time around. your boyfriend— he tends to treat your body as if it’s softer than cotton.

“it shrank in fear when it saw you approaching.”

your hushed giggles harmonized in the dead of the night, warm bodies tangled underneath the comforter. “i love you. thank you for making it go away.”

the tender kiss of gratitude you granted to his temple made him keen. he stole a second goodnight kiss from your lips before dozing back to sleep, silently praying his dream would have a continuation— he was about to cater a feast in the palace.

—

“a spider in the bathroom is an emergency. it’s an unwelcome visitor! technically, if you think about it, it broke into our house.”

“it’s still not bad enough to be a code red.” jungkook attempts to reason, abandoning his guitar on the ground to crawl to you on his knees. you’re unable to protest as his hands cover yours, guiding the mug to his mouth. the soles of your feet automatically plant themselves on the floor to eliminate the possibility of hitting his face with your knees. “more like a code orange.”

“so we’re going by a coding system now?”

he swallows, and takes another sip of your hot chocolate. “should we? i just came up with it.”

“it sounds cute. and it’s very virgo of you.” you share a grin, as if you weren’t whining to each other about minute ago.

“then i think . . . we should say code blue when we can’t sleep.”

“why blue?”

“mhmm,” he hums, folding his arms over your lap before resting his chin on them, looking up at you with his starry eyes. “usually the reason why we can’t sleep is because we’re feeling blue.”

a breeze blows, causing strands of hair to escape from the black little claw holding back his long black hair. he closes his eyes instinctively, and you tuck them behind his ears so they won’t obstruct his vision again. when he cracks his eyes open, he’s greeted by your smile. kind. warm. golden. contrasting the blue sky behind you, making you the sun in his eyes.

“then what qualifies for a code red?”

the unsurprisingly vivid memories come rushing back to him. “code red is for emergencies like i said. and remember when you woke me up the other night? that also counts.”

—

jungkook sat up on the bed, retreating against the headboard while cautiously eyeing the perilous item held by your right hand. you could’ve sworn that you’ve never seen his round eyes look this big. he looked absolutely adorable. okay, maybe a little terrified, but adorable. with his pretty face bare and puffy from sleep. but for what it’s worth, your fuzzy memories could be betraying you. the culprits of your predicament: hunger and dehydration.

“why is there a butcher’s knife in our bedroom?”

you jutted out your bottom lip sadly, shrugging your left shoulder to focus his attention on the watermelon cradled by your arm. “i’m sorry for waking you up, but i can’t slice it open. i’m still too weak from working out.”

he opened his mouth as he was about to speak, but he closed it again. he carefully pried the knife away from you, climbing off the bed and hiding it behind his back. he started walking to the kitchen and you followed him idly, tightly embracing the heavy watermelon. with alertness, he felt your presence behind him, and he transferred the knife infront.

you refused dinner because you still felt full from the late lunch you had in the afternoon. however, the hunger striked at 2am, leaving you unable to sleep until you satisfy the monster in your tummy. you weren’t in the mood for anything that required to be cooked, you just wanted something easy to eat. the challenge with this fruit, though . . . it’s too damn hard to open.

you arrived at the kitchen, and you left the watermelon over the chopping board to allow jungkook to do his magic. he placed the butcher’s knife back in the wooden knife holder, grabbing the chef’s knife with his tattoed hand.

oh? you can get the job done with a knife that small?

“you looked scary holding that giant knife. this knife is fine, as long as it’s sharp.” you winced at his comment as you watched him flawlessly cut the watermelon in the middle, and then cut each of those halves into halves again.

“baby, did you try cutting it yourself?” he asked when he noticed the scratches on the green skin.

you smiled sheepishly. “maybe. but i gave up after two tries.”

he shook his head with a chuckle, handing you the first slice of watermelon he made. “just let me do it next time, okay?”

“okay. thank you, my love.” you took your first bite, observing him with sheer adoration as he sliced the rest of the watermelon for you.

after finishing your first slice in only five bites, you and jungkook covered the remaining three quarters with plastic wrap and put them inside the fridge.

“want me to cook?”

you shook your head without a word. you were too busy devouring another slice of watermelon, seated on the countertop.

“kimchi fried rice?”

“i’m fine. just go back to sleep, babe.” you hummed softly, wrapping an arm around him when he came in for a hug.

“okay,” he nosed at your neck, getting a whiff of your night-time moisturizer. “i was having a fun dream. we were on a vacation and we found out our hotel bathroom could travel us through time and space.”

“that sounds cool. i ruined it though, didn’t i?” needless to say, you felt guilty. you wanted to stroke his hair and lull him back to the sleep that you interrupted, but your hands were sticky from the juice dripping from your fruit.

“oh, you did.” he replied with a chuckle, lightly slapping your thigh before squeezing it. “but that’s better than waking up to find you bleeding all over the kitchen.”

—

“red because watermelon?”

“the blood, baby. the blood!”

you grimace, feeling offended. you’d argue that you aren’t as dangerous as he thinks, but unfortunately, today is not the day for that. you will not win.

“alright. so, code blue for when we’re feeling blue. code orange for fearsome threats. code red for life-threatening situations.”

he nods along as you list them down, his lips naturally pouting in concentration. “that sums it up. we can add more when we think of other scenarios.”

and it’s still silence for a while. you finish the rest of your hot chocolate, and jungkook is fixed on a weird position, randomly deciding to take a nap on your lap. it reminds you of bam, when he rests his chin on your knee while you pet him, and he just stays there until he almost falls asleep.

“don’t your knees hurt down there, love? sleep here instead.” you try to coax him into moving to the couch, concerned about his knees. also, the air from his nostrils is tickling your sensitive skin.

“it feels comfortable.” he answers with his eyes still closed, embracing your thighs tighter. “just don’t slap me again because that hurt.”

—

jungkook wasn’t quite sure what woke him up exactly. was it your loud gasp or the stinging pain that was blossoming on his cheek? when he cracked his eyes half-open, he saw you covering your mouth with your hand. your eyes were painted with horror, forehead creased in apparent distress.

“baby, what happened?” he croaked out, completely innocent and it killed you. out of curiosity, he touched his warm cheek.

before you, he only grew up living with brothers. adding this to the fact that he’s been training in boxing for years, the pain of a punch is very much dull to him at this point. oh, that slap? it felt more painful than any punch he’s ever received.

“i slapped you.” you squeaked out, mind disoriented and body numb from the shock of jolting awake to find out that you- “i didn’t mean to! it wasn’t on purpose! i’m sorry!”

jungkook stayed frozen, still unable to fully process the series of events that transpired, even after you just bolted out of the room screaming out an apology. too tired to go to the mirror, he used his phone camera to take a look at his cheek. to no surprise, his delicate skin has turned red. no wonder it fucking stings.

it was already 7:12 in the morning, and the sun is shining bright. he didn’t feel like going back to sleep anymore. he sat up when you came back with an ice pack, which you gingerly held to the affected area.

“you slapped me? did i do something bad in your dream?” he quizzed, eerily nonchalant, hand curling around your wrist to guide the ice pack to where he was hurting.

“i’m really sorry.” you sniffled, tearing up with guilt, and at the thought of how fucking ridiculous this was. “it wasn’t you . . . there was a thief who tried to snatch my bag and i- uhm, you know- i got angry and scared and i slapped his hand away. then i suddenly woke up and for a split second i thought i was still . . . dreaming.”

“so you slapped the thief again?”

you bowed your head in shame. “yes.”

“and you thought i was the thief?”

you nodded, slowly curling up into a ball to hide yourself from him. “it was so blurry. and he was wearing all black, too . . . does it hurt a lot?”

“not a lot.” he pressed a kiss on the top of your head to ease the tension, and his hand slid up to hold yours. “i’m not really mad about that but- i was having a really good dream, you know?”

“i ruined it again, didn’t i? i’m sorry.” you cried out, throwing your arms around him, face buried on his neck because you didn’t have it in yourself to meet his eyes yet. but still, you wanted him close.

one arm securely held the ice pack to his cheek, the other covered his eyes as soft laughter racked his body, still heavy from sleep. “don’t cry, baby. want to make breakfast together?”

—

that is how you and jungkook ended up at the balcony this morning, too tired to function and too awake to sleep. fortunately for him, the sugar worked well as a sedative. it didn’t for you, but you’re content with just sitting here. apparently, you’re more harmful in your sleep.

you sigh deeply, stroking his soft and smooth cheek with the back of your fingers. the redness is almost gone, thanks to the ice pack. “i’m sorry. i’ll try my best to never do it again.” you regretfully apologize for the nth time.

“you know, it’s not like i would ever steal from you, but that really taught me a lesson.”

“you don’t have to steal. i’ll give you whatever you want.”

and with that, jungkook’s spirit awakens. for a person who loves getting spoiled, those are some of the most dangerous words you can say. but he already got everything he could ever want or need, and he couldn’t care less about the tangible.

“no need to steal kisses?”

kisses. of course. his mind is always somewhere near the thought of kisses, almost as if it’s the house across the street.

“mhmm, no need. you can just come get one yourself whenever you want to.”

you should’ve thought of this form of persuasion earlier. he started feeling a little grumpy while cooking the eggs because he realized this was the second time you ruined a good dream of his in the past three days.

“give me one then. you haven’t kissed the pain away yet.” he cracks one eye open, waiting for it expectantly. you give him his well-deserved kiss on the cheek, lips curving into a small yet happy smile because what kind of superhero shit did you do in your past life to deserve the best boyfriend on earth in this one?

and then he’s climbing over you while holding your face between his hands, peppering you with an endless amount of kisses dipped in love and chocolate.

“jungkook!” you squeal with a laugh as you fall on your back. the empty mug slips away from your hand. it rolls on the floor, and you hear it bump into jungkook’s guitar before making a full stop.

“people can see us here. you know that, right? they might get the wrong idea.” you stifle a gasp when his lips reach the expanse of your neck. your restless hands grasp at the sleeves of his oversized shirt, supposedly to push him away, but why are you holding on so tightly?

“want to make that idea come to life in the bedroom?”

and in spite of your system getting clouded by his intimate affection, your suspicion begins to arise. “what was that good dream about again?”

damn, you’re smart.

he pushes up his weight against the cushion, and his dimpled naughty grin comes into view. the strands of hair you tucked behind his ears stubbornly escape to frame his handsome face.

“i’ll tell you about it in the bedroom too.”

—

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#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

[armpirate]

Disturbs on the 3rd floor | Jungkook

Part 2

pairing: Boxer!JK x fem!reader || Neighbors, enemies to lovers

w.c.: 3.2k

Warnings: Explicit, almost making out, mention of body's reaction to touch

Summary: After your new neighbor forced you into a war with him, you didn't think you could dislike someone you hadn't met the way you disliked him. After meeting him, you confirm that not only he's hot as fuck, he's also one big asshole.

Aprox. time of reading: 15 minutes

You woke up curled up in your bed sheets, hugging the pillow tight, when you realized it was still night and it wasn't even close to the time you had to get up that day. You never woke up in the middle of the night for no reason, so it was weird for you that you did. Once your senses started activating, you laid on your back and closed your eyes again before it was too late.

*Knock*

You frowned, but still ignored the sound. Maybe your neighbor just moved a bit too roughly in his sleep.

*Knock*

You sighed, annoyed at the sound, but still tried to ignore it because you just wanted to sleep. 

Your eyelids throbbed in sync with the increasing bangs against your walls, giving up on trying to keep them closed and finally sitting on the bed to turn back. If there was a moment when sounds could seem touchable, it was then. You swore you could perfectly see his headboard knocking against the plasterboard, faster as time went by. 

Just the same way, you hit your wall back with your  closed fist, thinking that'd actually make him stop. 

Silly you.

Not only those sounds got faster and harder, but they were also combined by the loud screams from a woman -that you were sure had her head right against the plasterboard to make those sounds as audible for you as possible. There was no other explanation. 

Letting your body fall lazily over the mattress, you tried to cover your face with your pillow, drowning the sounds as much as possible, but they were so loud that it made you feel like they were right in your room doing whatever it was they were doing. 

You weren't the most patient person out there, and it only took you a few seconds before you stretched your arm to reach for your phone. It was four in the morning, and there they were, acting like they were the only ones in the building. You thought someone else might've complained, but you forgot you were the only one wall to wall with them. 

Anyone else would've knocked on their door, but you still considered sending a text through the neighborhood community group chat so you wouldn't be a big bother. And also, because you thought that, by saying it so publicly, they'd be a bit embarrassed and tone it down. But they only got louder by the minute.

Giving up, you picked your pillow and walked outside your room, taking your small couch as the new bed for that night. At least there you didn't have to hear the constant bangs or the moans and growls that kept coming from them. 

It'd be only for that night.

Only for that night... Ha! 

If only you had known that your text would start a war between you two, you'd have knocked their door down that same night. The noise was more constant than before, if that was even possible. 

You wondered if it was their first time living in an apartment, and having to respect neighbors, because there was no way someone would react that way to a petition to have some human decency. 

They fought back. First, they made you take the three flower pots that were hanging on your balcony off, because they said it was dangerous and it also bothered them when they got home at night after you watered them. And second, it was the night you decided to bring someone home after a really long time, and your neighbor scared them away.

Sitting on the couch, you couldn't believe he faked talking on the phone and screamed how you had a cockroach infestation that made everyone in the building worry. Messing with how clean you were in front of a person you tried to get on with for months was where you drew the line.  

You didn't know much about your neighbor, other than that he tended to come back home late in the night -and you had confirmed that with the first complaint he sent your way, and the few times you saw his back entering his house past eleven. So, placing the speaker against his wall, and turning up the pop music as loud as possible at seven in the morning, seemed like a good plan all of a sudden. At least while you got ready to head to work -he was luckier in that sense. You only bothered him for half an hour, and then left your house until five -a time when he usually wasn't at home. 

Each one of your actions had a consequence, because as soon as you started doing that, he'd also start giving random knocks at your wall late in the night. And it was a few times that you two had called the police on each other for the noise, not getting much more than just a warning from their side.

Did that make you two stop? Obviously not. 

 If he made a hole in your room with a drill, you threw bleach at his dark clothes. If he threw your mail in the garbage, you nicked the side of his black motorbike that was always parked next to the door. It was a war that would never stop if you both kept behaving like that, unless one of you moved out. And it only made sense for him to leave, since he was the one who moved into his apartment a few months ago. 

At least that was your idea until you saw the community notice, hung at the cork board in the entrance. Your neighbors were asking you two to stop, because both of you were intoxicating the good environment in the building. Not that it was a lie, but if the community had intervened after the first two complaints, none of this would've come this far. The ball was on your roof, you had the choice to continue or stop, so you chose the sanest choice.

Jungkook, on the other hand, felt uneasy when the game between you two suddenly stopped. While annoying you, and having you clapping back every time, was the most expensive thing in the world -because of the amount of things he had to repair as a result-, he found certain joy and entertainment in what you two did. His twisted mind would come up with a revenge seconds after seeing the mess you did. But suddenly it all stopped.

He didn't hear from you in a while, he didn't see you tempted to knock on his door a few times when he blasted music late into the night. He wasn't sure if you had seen him, but he for sure was aware of your well settled curves under those tight pajamas. Having your attention on him made him feel proud, but it disappeared as soon as he started caring about it. And that upsetted him more than he'd like to admit. 

That night, he knew you were home. He had heard you on the phone, while you were walking around your room. The small drawing of a beach, that you used to cover the beach, worked to block him from seeing anything in your room, but it made whatever was going on inside there perfectly audible. And vice versa. 

But like it was a sign sent from above, he stumbled with the karaoke set one of his friends had gifted him for his birthday, as he walked around the living room. 

You felt your place strangely silent. It had been that calm for the past two days -surprisingly-, but something about the way it felt that night felt off. It was the typical vibes you get before something bad happens. At least that was the sensation as you stared at your ceiling among the darkness. 

You frowned when you heard some strange echoed sounds, that seemed like clacks -similar to the sound your tongue makes whenever you stick it to your palate and move it away fast. But that frown turned into your eyes going blank the second you heard the pop music blasting, while a male voice singing sounded louder than the rhythm. 

"What the fuck?" you muttered, finally sitting in your bed. 

Banging your fist against the wall, you tried to get his attention. But either the music was too loud, or he was straightforward ignoring you, because it didn't stop. 

Right then, you had two choices: either you did something to annoy him back, or you behaved like an adult since he stepped in the building and knocked on his door. You couldn't leave that place, your apartment was only ten minutes away from work, and the location was perfect for your free time as well -not to mention how cheap it was compared to the previous house you rented. You just couldn't leave because an asshole decided it was fun to mess with you. 

You moved the blankets aside, finally sitting up on the bed before you dragged your body out of it. You didn't even bother to put your slippers on, stepping out of your apartment to knock on his door, although the music was so loud that probably he wouldn't hear it. 

Your jaw was twisted, while you placed your hands on your hips and tried to think of different ways to tear that door down if he didn't open it in the next two minutes. But, for your own luck, and your fists', you heard a silent squeak on your back, and the music was even louder than it was seconds ago. 

Everything was perfectly settled in your mind, you had made up every word you would say, and every expression and tone you'd use so the message would be clear, but your mind went blank as soon as you turned around. 

You had seen your neighbor before, although only from the back. His ratio from waist to shoulders, whenever he entered his apartment in those straight jeans and half tucked t-shirt got your head running in circles, but seeing his other half did no good to your brain. 

His lips looked thin, pressed tight against one another as he tried to keep the proud smile to himself, which caused the dimples on his cheeks to show off, along with the mole under his lower lip and the two lips rings that were on the right side of his lower lip. You had never been into brown eyes, but you'd lose yourself in his doe looks by how big and rounded they were, not realizing how deep you were trapped in them until he spoke.

"Hey, 3A" he greeted you, naming you by the number of your apartment. 

"Hey?" you crossed your arms over your chest "It's one am, and you're blasting music and singing like it's nothing".

It took you a few seconds to get back your confidence, but it was going to go back all over the window when he lifted his arm over his head, resting his full sleeve tattooed arm rest on the door frame, while his eyes kept looking intensely into you. 

"No one else complained" he shrugged.

"Because their walls aren't right next to yours" you tried to explain. "I'm the only one having to stand you and the noises you make every day". 

"Quite funny you're saying that" he scoffed "Because using a drill at seven isn't the most normal either".

"At least I'm not the one who dug a hole in the wall" you snapped back. 

As he bent to the right, to get his hand to rest on his shoulder and nape, you could see his bicep flexing slightly. 

You breathed in deeply, trying to get some sanity back. Your annoyance and horniness was soon making this first meeting useless, and you didn't knock on his door to leave things unsolved that night. 

"Don't you think you might have a bias against me?".

That question made you chuckle, looking away for a mini second before you were back at looking at him. Typical asshole behavior: playing the victim instead of owning up to his mistake. 

"I don't care if you get choked on that mic, but do it silently" you spitted. "I'll call the police if I hear you again. You're warned".

Your neighbor didn't say anything, he simply twisted his lips and nodded, seeing you walking away back to your place and stopping at your door when you tried to open it. 

Pressing your lips together, you shut down the minimal complaint that could come from them when the door didn't open after several attempts. It probably closed while you were speaking to your neighbor, and now you were stuck outside unless you called a locksmith and paid more than seventy bucks to get your door opened. Then you realized that you didn't have your phone with you either.

"What's up, 3A? Want to join the party?" he asked on your back. 

That was humiliating.

If it had been someone else, you wouldn't have cared in the slightest -even if you didn't really know that person-, but the fact that it was the same person you ranted at confidently just seconds ago, made things bad. 

You turned on your tracks, walking towards him again as you tried that cocky look he was giving you.

"I'm locked outside" you explained. "My phone and my keys are in my place".

He clicked his tongue, grimacing at your words and faking how deep he was thinking on his next answer.

"It'd be difficult for me to help you if I get choked on that mic".

"Nevermind".

Only three minutes into a conversation with him, and you knew he was the type that would brag about helping you until your ways separated again. You were convinced he'd be the biggest pain in the ass, and probably he'd also take advantage over this. And if he already was annoying for no reason, you couldn't imagine how bad it'd get in the case that you owed him a favor. 

"Wait" he stopped you while he laughed "Come inside, and use my phone".

While you still didn't want any help from him, you still stepped inside his place when he moved his body behind the thick door, allowing you to come in. 

His house is exactly like yours, only that his is placed in reverse. It was quite minimalistic, there weren't many furniture or decorations; but the few things he had in there were placed in a way that made sense and that inspired a lot of balance and calm. The scent was also comforting, a slight floral smell that wasn't too heavy to be found annoying, but was powerful enough to be noticed as soon as you stepped inside. 

You turned back again, finding him walking to you "I can look up for a good locksmith" he sneaked his hand inside his baggy pants, taking his phone out to type something. 

You were surprised by how easily he lent his phone to you. If you had been in his place, you probably would've looked up the phone number and made him call from the landline phone in your living room. 

You huffed after hanging up, trying to get through the idea that the person in charge to open your door won't come anytime soon, leaving you stuck outside for more than an hour. 

"Thanks" you gave him back his phone. 

"When will they come?" 

"He said it'd take him an hour, because he has another service pending" you sighed.

You didn't know there were that many people getting stuck outside. But again, there you were, out of your place, and in the house of the man you declared war to weeks ago. 

"You can wait here in the meantime" he assured you.

"This will be an expensive favor, right?" you squinted your eyes, looking at him with distrust.

"Hmm didn't think of that" he puckered his lips. "I just wanted to be a good neighbor and bury the hatchet".

Accepting his words, you just nodded. It wasn't like you were fully uncomfortable, at least not in the bad sense. He just made you nervous, by the way he radiated so much confidence and power. It was so difficult for you to explain it properly. 

"I'm Y/N, by the way" you introduced yourself, trying to get him to focus on your words and not you. But Jungkook was able to do two things at the same time. 

"Jungkook".

And there was the silence again, and that intense look going through your body like you were completely vulnerable for him. 

"Do you want something to drink?

"Water" you replied instantly, almost not giving him time to finish the question. 

Your throat was going dry the longer he stared at you, you needed to get hydrated as soon as possible. 

Sitting on the couch, you saw a few pairs of boxing gloves on the shelf next to the door that would lead to his bedroom. And you wondered if he either collected them, was a boxer or did boxing for fun. 

Whenever he came home late in the night, you always caught him with his back facing your door, and it wasn't like his clothes were much different from any regular daily clothes. 

"So, you do boxing?" you casually asked as soon as he was back. 

Looking over you, he saw the shelf that could've given you that hint, and he instantly smiled at that tiny show of interest. 

"We can say I do, yeah" he nodded.

"That's not an answer" you sipped on the glass.

"I didn't know you were so curious about me" he raised his eyebrow.

"I just wanted to talk about something while we wait" you replied back, thinking that would take him out of his comfort zone, but he only seemed more comfortable after that reply, as if he was expecting you to answer that way. 

"Shall we talk about the shirt you ruined and that cost me two hundred bucks?".

"What? Is this a way to get me to pay for it?" you scoffed "You threw my mail away, in which there was a penalty fee that could've been multiplied if the old lady from 2B hadn't noticed. Should we talk about the three hundred bucks your little joke would have cost me?". 

So you had an answer for everything... Time to get into action then. 

"I'd have paid for it gladly".

The tone he used while looking at you that way, it made a wave of heat burn your body from head to toe fast. Your mind was running wild while he played with the rings on his lips, showing off the tip of his tongue. 

Your body instantly reacted to his hand lying so close to your thigh on the couch, you could even feel the fabric sinking with its weight. While you were so close to each other, and with the wooden scent giving short circuits to your brain, you just allowed yourself to give in. 

His lips ghosted yours, so close that you could feel his warm breath coating your mouth, but so far that he had you parting and moving your lips to look for his. shiverings ran through your body, like a calming massage to your brain, that pushed you to go on. You needed way more than that. 

But Jungkook just rubbed his lips on the left corner of your mouth, making your nipples tighten under the thin fabric of your old t-shirt. He continued his way up to your cheek, finally lending a soft kiss on your skin, getting closer to your earlobe. 

Soon you were imprisoned by his arm, which moved to the other side of your body to lie next to your left thigh. His lip rings felt cold in contrast with your burning skin and his warm and wet tongue. Your neck instantly moved to the side when the tip traced the curve of your earlobe, and you almost gasped when his teeth trapped the soft meat to pull from it gently. 

You went from 0 to 100 in a matter of seconds, and you didn't want to think about the level you could get to if you two continued. And it seemed like Jungkook read your mind, because he burst your bubble before you were completely gone in your thoughts.

"You wanted me to choke on my mic, yet here you are: waiting for me to touch you and kiss you" he whispered.

And his words felt like a bucket filled with ice, falling over you and taking you back to reality. Holding your breath, you stopped your body from working for a few seconds, pushing him away to have some space to move away and stand up. 

"You could only wish" those words were the only thing that could keep your dignity in that moment. 

Of course, he wouldn't even give you that.

"That's not what you are showing" following where his index finger is pointing at, you instantly place your palms over your breasts, trying to hide your visibly hard nipples.

"Asshole" you muttered, in between your teeth. 

Of course, he expected you to be annoyed at his comment and maybe turn the situation around to turn into some hot passionate sex. But instead, Jungkook saw you walking angry to the door, just to slam it against the door frame after leaving his place. 

It didn't turn out like he expected.

Could this be considered as a snippet for Anti-romantic? Possibly.

#ff #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkookxreader #jk #bts #kookie #one shot #reader insert #armpirate

[lovelyunholyc]

fem!reader. use of names (sweetheart, good girl, naughty girl). oral(f! reader receiving + brief m! receiving), face sitting, riding, unprotected sex, kinda rough but not really...fwb/ambiguous relationship :')

nsfw! minors + blank/ageless blogs will be blocked :)

absently he wonders when you'll tire of him, when you'll change the locks and stop answering his calls, stop letting him have access to you. he's been around long enough to know it's inevitable, no matter how stubborn you are, how much you enjoy proving him wrong.

selfishly he revels in the fact that it isn't today, isn't any time soon by the looks of it, because he enters your apartment easily, though he can tell you're not home.

kishibe makes his way past the threshold with familiar ease, toeing off his shoes and taking off his coat and hanging it at the door, things you'd have been sure to chastise him for had he not done.

his drink of choice is in the kitchen, the bottle seemingly untouched since the last time he'd been here - which could've been weeks, months ago - another subtle reassurance that makes the scarred corner of his lips turn up ever so slightly.

he sighs contentedly into his first glass, slowly savors his second before making his way to your bedroom and the attached bathroom.

you come home just as he's stepped out of the shower, and stand at the doorway, letting steam escape past you as he glances at you through damp, dirty blonde strands. he can't read your expression but doesn't dislike the way you scrutinize him, grinning as he wraps a towel loosely around his hips.

"welcome home, sweetheart," kishibe teases gruffly, which earns him a scoff, but you don't let him pass you without kissing his cheek, wrinkling your nose at the feel of the stubble lining his jaw. he fishes his pack of cigarettes from his pants in a puddle on the floor and heads for the balcony on the other side of your room.

you follow wordlessly, sliding the door closed behind you and taking a seat at one of the lounge chairs facing the view outside. the sun has just started to set, casting your skin in a purple-orange haze that shouldn't look as good as it does on you, making your skin glow, your face even prettier.

it doesn't escape his notice that you're dressed nicer than you usually would be for work.

kishibe leans against the railing facing you, putting a cigarette between his lips and cursing himself for forgetting his lighter.

but you have him covered, producing one from your bag and reaching up to light it for him.

he leans in gratefully, inhales a little more than he maybe should, stays bent over even after it's long been lit, because he selfishly wants to keep smelling your perfume. he takes a long pull as he straightens back up, eyeing you over the smoke, raising a brow in response to your watchful eyes.

he knows you don't smoke, but doesn't question why you have a lighter.

"date didn't work out?"

you smirk at that, looking past him and at the slowly setting sun instead. "what makes you say that?"

kishibe shrugs, doesn't take his eyes off of you. "you came home alone." he likes the cut of your dress. it's perfectly fitted to you, reveals exactly what it should, tastefully. you look too good in it to not have had any prospects.

it's your turn to shrug, finally meeting his eyes with a wistfulness he doesn't think he should see. "just had a feeling that i should."

he hums, savors the warmth of his next drag, a contrast to the cool breeze that whispers over his still-wet skin and makes him shiver.

"how's work?"

kishibe hates making small talk, knows that you do, too, but he supposes it's the least he can provide after being away for so long. "same as always," he says flatly, finally looking away from you. he reaches for one of your potted plants and pulls out the dish to catch the water out from under it, and ashes into it.

you make a quiet noise of amusement, probably surprised that he'd even taken the trouble.

he can be nice sometimes, polite. "i'm still here," he continues. haven't died yet, is what he means. he smiles humorlessly.

you watch him, placid, patient. still unreadable, as he finishes off his smoke.

he doesn't say as much, but he appreciates your company, your quiet, meaningless murmur of conversation. everything but what you actually want to say.

when he's done, you leave first, stepping back into your room and leaving the sliding door open for him.

it's his turn to watch you quietly, entranced as you start undressing, your back to him. he makes his way to you, closing the door without looking, eyes only trained on you, fingers coming up to find the zipper of your pretty dress at the nape of your neck. his breath hitches as he slides it down your spine, the silk of your skin revealed to him inch by breathtaking inch, soft and smooth.

before he knows it he's following the seam of the dress as it parts, lips pressing right at the trail of his fingers descending down with the fabric, until it can't go any further. he slides the tip of his nose back up your spine, making you shudder, until he reaches the nape of your neck, and starts a fresh trail of kisses along your neck and shoulder, wet and wanting, your dress dropping to the floor without a second thought.

you turn just as he reaches the top of one shoulder, placing your hands on his hips, rubbing at the towel still slung over them with the pads of your fingers. his arms cage you in against the door of your closet, and all he has to do is dip his head slightly to finally capture your lips.

you taste like wine, undoubtedly remnants of your unfortunate date. sweet, heady, intoxicating. he chases the taste on your tongue, groans heavily into your mouth when you open up for him so easily, when you melt into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him ever closer. rough hands drift across your body, greedy, eager to have you against him again, to feel your warmth and squeeze at your softness. he kneads at the supple flesh of your ass over the delicate lace of your underwear, sliding up quickly to follow the gentle curve of your back, your waist, pressing into your breasts, licking languidly into your mouth all the while, relishing your soft little whimpers. you jolt when he pinches at your nipples, and he pulls away just a few inches to chuckle, pressing biting kisses along your jaw.

"kishibe," you whisper when his fingers move lower, dipping into the band of your pretty lace panties. his name sounds so sweet when you say it like that, as rich as the wine that had leaked from your mouth.

he's pleased to find you as wet as he'd expected, and slides through your folds appreciatively, licking at your throat as he watches his fingers disappear into your pretty pussy, soaked in your slick. you buck into his hand when he pushes into your entrance, clutching at his shoulders and breathing heavy. cute.

"so wet for me, so pretty." his voice is low, gravelly enough to send shivers down your spine. "c'mon, sweetheart, let me taste you."

kishibe licks his fingers clean before leading you over to your bed.

but before he can lay down and move you on top of him, you tug at his towel and drop on your knees to the floor along with it, hands firm on his hips to keep him still so you can kiss at the head of his cock.

he groans as you stroke him to full hardness, curses under his breath when you lick at the precum gathering on his slit, sucking the bulbous tip of his cock into your mouth and moaning when his hips rock into the heat of it instinctively. his fingers twist into your hair, and he lets you sink down on his shaft once, twice, before pulling you off completely, grinning devilishly at the dazed look on your face, the spit and his precum pooling in your open mouth before you swallow it all down.

"naughty fucking girl," he chastises, voice laced with mirth, and can't help but notice how you rub your thighs together at that, your panties somehow having disappeared since you'd distracted him. "i said," he backs into the bed, pulling you up and along with him so you're straddling him when he lays down, "give me a taste," and he's kissing down your stomach, your thighs, until his head is between them. he lays back and you shift on top of him, trapping him between your legs with his encouraging hands on the backs of your knees, pulling you closer, closer, sliding up your thighs to grope at your ass and urge you to finally sink down on his face.

the first lick is divine, to you both. he kisses at your pussy lips as if they were the ones on your face, before letting his tongue delve deeper, lapping up the slick at your entrance and sliding up through your folds to swirl at your clit and make you whine. he wraps his lips around the bud and starts sucking and you lose balance, falling forward on the bed and catching yourself on your hands.

kishibe pulls back just to laugh, and the heat of his breath against the wet, cooling skin of your pussy makes you shiver. you curse at him and he presses a chaste kiss to your sensitive clit in a silent apology he doesn't really mean.

he wants to pull you apart piece by piece until he's all you can think about until the next time you see him. "cum on my tongue, sweetheart," he encourages gruffly, one hand drifting to your hip and the other thumbing at your clit. "cum for me." he flattens his tongue against your slit, fingers drifting back down from your clit to slip into your fluttering hole, and he uses his hold on your hip to urge you into riding his tongue.

you keen, hands finding his hair, grinding into him, rocking into the rhythm of his fingers and tongue as he laps at you, and you hardly register the roughness of his stubbled jaw against your skin, too lost in pleasure. you chase the sweet friction just as he'd encouraged, spurred on by the gratifying groans he lets out as you spill continuously into his mouth, until it becomes too much, your body tensing with your impending orgasm.

it only takes another deep moan that vibrates through you, and his lips suctioning around your swollen clit, to take you over the edge, clutching at the sheets beneath you and gasping his name, walls pulsing around his fingers, squeezing so enticingly, hips stuttering.

kishibe doesn't pull back until you do, thighs trembling on either side of his face and seemingly close to giving out. you practically fall to your side next to him on your bed, chest heaving, and he watches you with amusement as he licks his fingers clean and swipes carelessly at his chin with the back of his hand.

"god, i've missed you," you confess quietly, leaning in to brush your fingers through his hair, still slightly damp, but now with sweat. you trace the scar across his cheek with your thumb with a kind of tenderness he's afraid to think too hard about, and kiss him sweetly, savoring the taste of you on his tongue, the bitterness of his cigarettes coming through for an acquired taste. familiar, addicting.

"yeah?" he sits up and leans over to shove a few pillows under his back before beckoning you back over to him.

you grin, taking the hand he offers you and sliding back into his lap, legs on either side of him. "yeah," you sigh dreamily, touching your forehead to his and looking down to watch your hands meet around his shaft.

kishibe curses under his breath when you pucker your lips and let a glob of spit drip onto the glistening head of his cock. he groans when you work it onto his dick, shifting closer so you can grind against the base of it, the slick of your cunt easing the slide along your folds and giving you the friction you need. the flared head catches on your sensitive clit and makes you gasp, and it only takes a few seconds of rocking against him to build the pleasure back up, to have your mind hazy and your lungs at capacity.

he squeezes at the flesh of your hips, leans in minutely so you can meet him halfway for a messy, needy kiss that makes your heart stutter. when he pulls back, he licks up the line of spit still connecting you, and trails his lips down your jaw, your neck, your chest, and you shift to expose more of yourself to him, pressing your skin into his mouth, arching your back towards his touch so he can suck greedy kisses into the swell of your breasts. rough hands knead at your ass all the while, guiding you in your slow grind in his lap, until you can't take it anymore and raise yourself up on your knees to line him up with your entrance.

"fuck," he grits between his teeth when the fat tip of his cock pushes through your walls, and you whine at the sweet stretch. you clutch at his shoulders as you sink down further, cursing too when you're fully seated, body jolting when the coarse hairs on the base of his cock nudge into your clit.

"good girl," kishibe praises quietly, barely a murmur that passes through his lips. you shiver all the same.

when you catch his gaze again, his mouth twitches up in a subdued little smile, and you can't help but shift towards his warmth a little more. you kiss him again before lifting your hips and sliding back down, slow and purposeful, savoring every ridge and vein of his cock splitting you open and getting a feel for your rhythm.

it isn't long before you're bouncing in his lap, chasing the sweet friction of his pelvis against your sensitive bud, the head of his cock nudging into your sweet spot, the addicting slide of his shaft along the tight wet heat of your walls.

kishibe is a quiet lover, but soft grunts escape him periodically. he continues lavishing your chest in attention, alternating between massaging at your breasts and your ass, smacking lightly at the latter just to make your moans pitch higher. you're so wet you're dripping down his thighs and your own. the obscene sound of your slick is music to his ears with every stroke, your whines of his name sending pleasant shivers down his spine.

he knows you're close when your walls start to spasm around him, and he slides his hand between you to start rubbing mercilessly on your clit. your hips stutter and you whimper at the unrelenting pressure, throwing your head back with a moan so beautiful and wanton that he instinctively answers with a deep, guttural groan, clutching at the flesh of your ass then to slam you down onto his dick.

you take over rubbing at your puffy clit as he plants his feet on the mattress and thrusts up into you and shoves you down onto his cock simultaneously, biting on his bottom lip in concentration to hit the spot that makes your walls clench around him so sweetly.

"k-kishibe-!" you mewl, and with the next stroke you're falling apart, arching your back and writhing against him, clutching at his hair and his back and shoulders - anywhere your fingers can reach - as you lose yourself in pure bliss.

"that's it, sweetheart, good fuckin' girl." admiring you with lustful, half-lidded eyes, he fucks you through it, so ferociously he knows you'll have bruises to show for it in the morning, but you don't seem to mind at all, encouraging him with weak, breathless moans as he maneuvers your body with a strength that makes you shudder to fully realize. your head falls forward onto his shoulder as you struggle to stay present and come down from your high, still trembling, and it only takes a few deep, focused thrusts for your fluttering velvet walls to bring him over the edge too.

kishibe drives his cock into your tight, twitching cunt as deep as he can, and finally spills into you, each pulse of his spend making you whine lightly. he weaves his fingers in the roots of your hair and tilts your head up so he can kiss you - none too gently but you chase his tongue anyway, kiss him back until you're too lightheaded to continue, nudging the tip of your nose along the side of his face instead, despite the stubble you playfully complain about, along the scar you so love to touch and marvel at.

when he says your name, a whisper on a sigh, you realize it's the first time he's said it since you've seen him tonight, and there's a tenderness to the sound that is so palpable it makes your heart somersault.

neither of you speak of it.

instead you hold him closer, arms wrapped tight around his neck and his around your waist. you don't part for a moment that feels infinite, emotion stirring up between you that you know with a deep ache you'll likely never address.

kishibe isn't sure what you benefit from him except maybe making you cum more than once every time and knowing how to fuck your brains out in the way you like best, but he doesn't question you.

he doesn't think he's capable of love.

you, however... smart, vibrant, lovely you - you have the potential to bring anyone to their knees for you, and yet you choose to entertain him though he thinks he has nothing to give you, knows that you deserve more.

if that's the case, he thinks, he's a worse person than he'd initially thought.

for now, he can take another shower with you and clean you up, fix you a drink to go along with his, and fuck you to sleep, too.

before he disappears again in the morning, he might have time to question what he benefits from you in return, other than to have his chest ache every time he leaves you.

#chainsaw man #chainsawman x reader #csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man kishibe #chainsawman kishibe #kishibe #kishibe x reader #csm kishibe #csm kishibe x reader #chainsaw man smut #chainsawman smut #kishibe smut #chainsawman kishibe smut #chainsaw man kishibe smut #csm kishibe smut #chainsawman x reader smut #chainsaw man x reader smut #chainsaw man kishibe x reader smut #csm x reader smut #chainsawman kishibe x reader smut #girl idk if theres a space between chainsaw and man and whether one or the other is better #but here ya go old man fckers (me) #ten.writes #nsfw.

[drkmgs]

TikTok live

Jenna Ortega x Reader

Warning: You'll die because of the cringe...

With this post, I would like to thank all the readers, who have been reading all of my work. I highly appreciate the likes, the reblogs the replies and even the requests. Also to my 430 followers, THANK YOU.

Stay tuned for updates!

You met Jenna at the set of the Netflix series Wednesday for Season 2. You had the role being her partner in crime, which created a great bond between you two. It did start as a friendship but it quickly developed into more than that and with you just starting in the Industry and Jenna being in the upbringing, both of you didn't want to mess that up, so keeping it private was a good decision.

Now being less busy and having time to just lay around and do nothing, you go on TikTok to waste time. When you didn't find any good videos to laugh about, you decided to start a TikTok live. You did send a quick text to Jenna, that you were going live on TikTok, so she could time her homecoming. You didn't bother to look if she saw it, you just went on and click the Live button. At first, you were sitting on the couch looking like a couch potato, you proceed to ask incoming viewers what to do.

They suggested a lot of things like singing, dancing, turning on some music, telling stories, or cooking. Turning on some music didn't sound bad, so you did. You started bopping to the beat and seconds after you were having a party in your living room. The little party did make you hungry so you told the viewers you'll cook something. You walked into the kitchen, still bopping your head to the music. You took out a ramen noodle package from the cabinet. You swiftly took a little pot and filled it with water, then put it on the stove. While waiting for the water to boil, you stared at your phone trying to read and answer all the comments.

"What is it like to work with Jenna Ortega?", your smile was from ear to ear.

"Well, she's incredible to work with. Her professionalism is remarkable. I mean come on guys! Before I got the role in Wednesday, I was a fan and still am!", you say, still having that smile on your face.

"Talking about me?", you flinched at the voice and at the arms that are wrapping around your torso. You quickly cover the camera with your hand. The music was so loud and you were occupied answering questions, that you didn't hear her opening the door. She intended to give you a quick kiss and hide but didn't mean to make a loud smacking noise. Both of you cringed at the noise and prayed that the viewers of your TikTok live didn't hear it. You could feel the vibration of your phone and you could tell that your TikTok live is exploding.

Jenna dashed into your room to hide and you continue your TikTok live, as if nothing happened, but your viewers didn't stop spamming.

"Who's with me?", you looked behind you messing with them. "Can you see stuff that I can't see?", you asked them and took the phone to show them around the apartment. "See there's no one", you show them every corner of the kitchen and living room. "My room?", you hoped that Jenna heard you standing in front of your bedroom door. When you opened it, you were glad she was already hiding somewhere. You showed them a quick tour around your room, not showing your desk where a lot of Polaroid pictures of you and Jenna were hanging, but you showed them your balcony where no one was hiding. You left the room swiftly and entered the kitchen, where your now cold water again was waiting. You let your TikTok Live run until you finished with your instant ramen and bragged about how good it looked, then you said your goodbyes and turned it off.

As soon as you turned it off, you called for Jenna. You see her peeking out of your bedroom, you snorted and called her over. She skipped over to one of the high chairs and took a sit in front of you. You smiled at her and pushed the bowl with newly cooked ramen to her. She gladly took it and started sipping on the soup with a spoon.

———

Well, you did expect fans to record your TikTok Live and made their conspiracy theories about what happened in your Live yesterday. The camera did capture Jenna's arms wrapping around you, so many of the clips you saw on TikTok were comparing it with Jenna's and other potential celebrities. Some of the girls that were compared were off-charts because you don't even know them or you only saw them at some awards show and had a little interaction. Then some videos are so accurate that you felt stalked or someone installed a camera in your apartment.

You immediately dismissed that thought, because you don't want to make yourself paranoid. You turned off your phone and turned your attention to the beautiful girl sitting beside you watching one of her favorite movies.

"This is the best part of it.", she says pointing at the TV while munching on her popcorn. "Yeah?", you reply, not looking where she's pointing at. She turned her head to you with a glare. "You're not even watching.", she says. "I am. I am watching the best part of my life right now.", you say starting to laugh because it sounded better in your head than out loud. "You just didn't say that.", Jenna scrunched her nose as she cringed at your attempt to be romantic. "Yup. I just said it. My baby. My sugarplum. My everything.", you added and engulfed her in a tight hug as she cringes more at your statement.

#wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday x reader #wednesday x you #wednesday #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #drkmgsstories

[im-a-wonderling]

Survival Mechanisms ~ George Weasley

This is part three, so make sure you read Is It Still Punishment if It's Worth It? and Clumsy, Clumsy first!

Warnings: none

Word count: 4k

The N.E.W.T. preparatory witch was absolute rubbish.

With the exams looming, Umbridge had allowed for a dodgy witch from the Ministry to host an exam study session of sorts on the Patronus Charm. It was hard to believe that Umbridge could hate so many things and yet endorse a witch that wore a hat with green shamrocks and orange balloons.

A load of the Gryffindors were lounging around on the seats that had been pushed against the walls, having produced a fully corporeal Patronus. They cracked jokes and laughed with each other. Every so often, one of them would lazily sweep their gaze across the room at the students still struggling with the spell. Their palpable arrogance seemed to bounce against the stone walls, weighing down the room. 

I gripped my wand tightly enough to feel every ridge of it against my skin.

Why were they still here? If they’d successfully completed the exercise, they could take their boisterousness somewhere else, preferably over the balcony of the Astronomy Tower. 

“Expecto Patronum!” I said firmly, circling my wand. The most pathetic stream of silver yet flowed from the tip of my wand, disappearing in an instant. I grit my teeth, circling my wand again. “Expecto Patronum!”

“No, dear,” said the supervising witch, waddling over to me. “The wand movement must flow. Like this.” She demonstrated, and the silver form of a dog burst forth, running through the air in the classroom with its tongue hanging out.

I ducked my head in thanks, and she walked away to help a Hufflepuff. I glared after her, imagining transfiguring her stupid hat into a flower pot of marigolds. When I turned back to the fake dementor, it wasn’t the only dummy standing there.

George leaned an elbow on the dementor’s shoulder, looking at me with his grin reeking with complications. “All right?”

I extended my wand towards the fake dementor, waiting for George to get out of the way. But he remained squarely where he was. “What?” I asked tersely. 

“Nothing.” His tone was far too smug for that to be true. “You’re just cute when you’re frustrated.”

Just then, George Weasley should’ve thanked every star in the sky that I wasn’t born a Welsh Green, otherwise he’d be a pile of cinders. Gritting my teeth, I flicked my wand at him, trying to scare him away, but George didn’t so much as flinch. “Go away,” I finally said. “I’m busy.”

George stood up straight, his arm leaving the dummy. But instead of going to join his housemates, he ambled closer. He had such a funny and easygoing way of walking. He put one foot in front of the other like it didn’t even matter where his feet ended up, because he was content wherever he was. “Struggling, are we?”

“Expecto Patronum!”

George side-stepped the spurt of silver that left my wand, and when it faded, he looked back at me. “Do you want help?”

“George, I’m not in the mood,” I warned. 

“What’s your memory?”

I shot him a withering glare. “I’m not telling you.” 

George brought both his hands to his chest, sticking out his lower lip. “You wound me.”

“I will if you don’t get out of the way,” I seethed.

George tilted his head to the side in the way he always did when he seemed to be sizing me up. Then he bent down and leaned in, and I prepared my wand, ready to cast the Revulsion Jinx if he so much as laid a finger on me. “Meet me on the sixth floor,” he said quietly, his words tickling my ear, “by the portrait of Edgar Stroulger.” 

“So you and your Gryffindor pals can ambush me?” I bit back, turning my head to look him directly in the eye. “Absolutely not.”

“Do you never trust anybody?” George’s soft question paired with his unassuming eyes almost made me feel guilty.

“If you want trust,” I replied, “go bestow your relentless charms on a Hufflepuff.”

George straightened, looking down on me with furrowed brows. For a moment, we simply stood there, staring at each other. Had I finally gone too far? Was he going to throw in the towel? Would he take the advice I wasn’t sure I meant and go find someone easier to talk to?

Then his face split into a grin. “You think I’m charming?”

How could he do that? I’d never known someone who could receive such acidic words from someone and spin them as if they’d been given a compliment. “Why would you help me?” 

“Because we’re friends now.” 

I raised an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”

“Well,” George’s eyes flicked over to the witch who’d just finished demonstrating how her own patronus walked on all fours, “you said you don’t snog your friends. We’ve never snogged, therefore we’re friends.”

I rolled my eyes, ignoring the flipping of my stomach. “I don’t think that’s how logic works.”

“Innit?” George straightened. “If you want help, you know where I’ll be.” And with that, he walked in his unhurried way out of the room. 

The dark eyes of the dementor dummy bored into mine as I considered my options: staying and hoping the witch somehow became more helpful or taking a chance on George. I glanced at the witch, who was leading one of the other Slytherins in what appeared to be a breathing exercise. 

Okay, clearly George could offer as much, if not more than, the witch. But the humiliation of failing in front of the witch meant nothing compared to how I would feel if George laughed at me. 

Could I take that risk for the benefit of learning this charm?

I looked out the door George had just walked out of. 

-

Stopping at the entrance of the Study of Ancient Runes classroom, I glanced around the corner, waiting for any sign of danger. Seeing none and walking slowly, I rounded the corner, coming face to face with the portrait. 

Edgar Stroulger, the inventor of the Sneakoscope, looked warily down at me as he reached into his wrinkled purple robes to pull out the Dark Detector. It didn’t light up, spin, or whistle, which meant no one was doing anything untrustworthy nearby. 

Did George pick this portrait to make sure that I wasn’t planning anything sinister? Or did he pick it so that I could be sure he wasn’t planning anything sinister? 

Suddenly, the portrait swung outward.

My wand slid into my hand in an instant, and I pointed it, ready for action. “Calm down, it’s only me,” George said lightly, stepping out and closing the portrait behind him. 

I waited a beat, just to see if George would start squirming, but he didn’t look the least bit concerned by having the tip of my wand an inch away from the tip of his freckled nose. 

“Another make-out spot?” I asked, finally lowering my arm. 

“Not yet, but there’s always time,” George replied with a cheeky grin. I waited for him to lead me somewhere, but he just stood with his hands in his pockets, looking at me. 

“What?” I finally asked.

“You came.”

Were the words born of surprise? Excitement? Disappointment? I was unnerved by the fact that I couldn’t tell. “I don’t like failing.”

“Everyone knows that,” George chuckled. He gave a grand bow, indicating the hallway I’d just come through. “Shall we?”

I eyed George. Were we going to the Ancient Runes classroom? Or did he have somewhere else in mind? Was he bringing me to a second location? Wasn’t it common knowledge that one was never supposed to let a kidnapper take them to a second location?

“Well, we can’t practice charms in the hallway, can we?” he said, correctly interpreting my silence.

I sighed. “I’ll follow you then.”

George smiled and swept down the hallway, walking straight towards an empty stone wall. Was George about to walk right into it? And if so, did I have time to get snacks to watch? Just as I started to debate this, before my very eyes grew a large door, as if it’d just pooled out of the wall like melted chocolate. 

“How did you–” I started to ask, a bit breathless. “How did that door just…appear?

George looked pleased at my response. “Hogwarts is full of surprises.”

I shook my head. If anyone would know about a secret door in Hogwarts, my money was on the nosy Weasley twins, but still. 

George opened the door and made a little bow. “After you.”

My curiosity winning over my paranoia, I walked inside, glancing all about the room.

There was no furniture, only a wide-open space with a fire burning in the hearth across from the entrance. A few training dummies, similar to the ones the witch had been using, lined the walls. There lay an inherent conflict in the room between the cool, blue light from the windows which bounced off the mirrors and the yellow light of the glowing chandelier.

“Alright,” George said, rolling the sleeves of his uniform above his elbow as he brushed past me to stand in the very center of the room. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

I followed him, dutifully pulling out my wand and keeping my eyes focused on one of the training dummies and not George. “Expecto Patronum.”

“You’re spiraling too big,” George said.

I tried again.

“No, not like–here.” The next thing I knew, George was at my back, his hand moving down my arm to encase my wand hand. “Smaller, softer.” My lips parted as his warm breath skittered across my cheek. His wrist moved, guiding my wand through the motions. “It’s not meant to be harsh.”

I glanced at the mirror across from us to see that George’s eyes weren’t focused on my hand, but on my face, which was steadily turning crimson.

If bringing me to this room was some sort of romantic move, I was determined that it would fail. The portrait of Edgar Stroulger would not become another make-out spot, and neither would this room. At least not with me. I kept my eyes studiously forward, waving my wand as instructed.

“Brilliant.” He spoke in a whisper, but it felt as though he were shouting. 

"Expecto Patronum!" Silver mist flowed from my wand, more than before, and it didn’t fade as quickly. 

“Better,” George said encouragingly. “Again.”

“Expecto Patronum!” Same result. 

“Try again.”

I repeated the action, and the silver mist was gone in a moment. “Augh, this bloody charm is impossible!”

George rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and the appraising manner with which he looked at me made me nervous. “What are you picturing when you’re trying to conjure it?”

“Not–”

“Y/L/N.”

I lapsed into silence, keeping my lips stubbornly closed. Under no circumstances was I going to give him ammunition.

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” George said softly. “I’m not harboring some secret plan to humiliate you. I’m trying to help, so will you please let those walls of yours down and let me?”

I just glared back at him, folding my arms tightly.

George sighed, moving to stand between the dummy and I. “Mine is a food fight with my family.”

The admission made me blink. Why would his response to my closed doors be to open his own? In spite of myself, I was interested. “Not some prank?”

George ducked his head, and I suddenly missed his smile. “No, not some prank. We were sitting down to dinner, and my dad leaned over to give my mum a kiss and he accidentally knocked over the cauldron, spilling pea soup everywhere.” George wrinkled his nose, as if he could smell it still. “My brothers and I were covered in it, and the whole dining room was dead silent…and then Fred threw his soggy roll at Bill, and next thing you know,” George smiled broadly, “we were all throwing food, even Mum, and Mum never willingly creates a mess.” 

Even though I hadn’t been there, his memory was captivating enough that I could picture the large family laughing and slipping as they reveled in each others’ company. 

George lifted his wand, and a burst of fear shot through me. 

But before I could hurl a spell in his direction, he whispered his own: “Expecto Patronum.”

A magpie flew forth, soaring about the room with minimal flapping of its patterned wings. If patronuses could make noise, I had a feeling this one would sing the most beautiful song. Not because it was trying to compete with or impress anyone, but for itself, to represent the sheer joy that kept it aloft.

Then, it veered towards me, flying so close that I could’ve sworn I felt the brush of feathers on my leg as it began to circle. It flew higher and higher with every rotation until a silver cloud of mist surrounded me. Then, it shot away again, flying about the room. 

“The Patronus is an outpouring,” George said quietly. “It’s the happiness that can’t be contained, therefore it must leap forward.” 

I’d never been much good at outpouring. Everything I held dear was held behind my walls, for sharing things was the fastest way to spoil them.

But I wanted to learn this charm. How could I protect Clem if there was a gap in my magical prowess? 

“What are you picturing?” George asked again. 

I folded my arms. “I’m not telling you.” 

“C’mon, Y/L/N, your wand movement’s good, you’re saying the incantation right. There’s only one thing that could be keeping you from casting it.” 

I grit my teeth. If there was anything more insufferable than George Weasley, it was George Weasley when he was right. “I was…thinking of…getting my Hogwarts acceptance letter.”

George didn’t burst into laughter or devolve into mocking like I expected. “Why’s that a powerful happy memory for you?”

I looked away, staring at the door and stifling the wish to run through it. “My parents were going to send me to Durmstrang.”

“Oh.” George rubbed his neck. “Well. That would’ve been a shame.” There was a silence before I finally nodded, not wanting to say anything else on the subject. “Maybe try a different image?” he suggested. 

“Like what?” I said hopelessly. “Hippogriffs tap dancing?”

George’s eyes gleamed, and the magpie landed on top of his head. “Now that’s a good one.”

“George,” I said warningly.

George rubbed his chin, looking thoughtful. The longer the silence extended, the more I wished I could simply use George’s memory of his family food fight. Finally, George blew out his cheeks, imitating a frog’s vocal sac extending with a croak. “Don’t curse me for asking this–”

“No promises.”

“–but why do you protect Clem so strongly?”

I stared at George, confused. Not by his actions, but by the small part of me that actually wanted to answer his question and share about the biggest love of my life. But I couldn’t shake the deep-seated fear that this information would somehow be the key to bringing me down.

“I swear to you,” George said softly as the magpie ruffled its wings, “Clem’s safer from me than my own siblings, because I won’t turn his teddy bear into a giant spider.” 

I debated inquiring about the story that clearly lingered behind his oddly specific word choice, but decided not to. Letting out a long breath, I looked away. 

“I was six when Clem was born,” I told the floor. It was much easier to speak to the stone floor than to the intently listening redhead. “I’d always wanted a sibling, but my parents struggled with having kids. Even when my mom was pregnant, the healers at St. Mungo warned her that she might lose the baby at any point, but my father…” I sighed. “He wanted a son. You know, carry on the family name and all that.”

Mercifully, George stayed silent, as if he knew one word from him would make me clam up and one joke right now would earn him a trip to the Hospital Wing with a pair of permanent elephant ears.

“They let me hold him, and he was so much heavier than I thought he was going to be.” I smiled softly. “I’d never seen a baby before. I thought babies were just…small people, but they’re not, they’re chubby and wrinkly and they’re red all over.” I glanced at the mirror and George’s unmoving reflection staring intently at mine, willing me to finish.

“I don’t think six-year-olds know much about anything. I definitely didn’t, but when I held my brother…” My courage quailed. I shook my head, raising my wand to attempt the charm again.

Suddenly, the magpie flew past me and then George was in front of me, his hand holding mine still as he looked down at me with something I couldn’t name or deny. “Finish it,” he said softly, but earnestly. “Finish the story.”

I couldn’t form the right words at first, but George didn’t say anything to break the silence as I struggled. “When I held my brother,” the image of my baby brother started almost glowing in my mind, “I knew what love was.”

George’s slight, answering smile was quite possibly the most genuine thing I’d ever laid eyes on. He released my hand but didn’t step away. “Try it now.”

I didn’t look away, not wanting to puncture the peace of the room with the incantation. I looked deeply into George’s brown eyes and whispered it. “Expecto Patronum.”

The room lit up with the silver mist that poured forth from my wand, more than before. At first the mist pooled beneath my wand, and then, rising up from the pool, rose a large but graceful four-legged creature that ran around the room.

A lioness. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mumbled, but there was little heat behind the words. I couldn’t be ungrateful for the creature, not when it moved so freely about the room, as if it were as glad as I was that it existed. “Don’t laugh,” I warned George as the patronus walked a circle around him. “And if you make a joke about me being in Gryffindor, I’ll turn you into a toad.” 

“Wasn’t planning on it.” George followed the lioness with his eyes as she trotted closer to me, leaving trails of mist behind her. “Makes sense though.”

I studied the markings by the lioness’s noble face. “How?”

“Strength. Ferocity.” His eyes flicked up to mine. “Beauty.” 

I blushed, and the lioness started running again, as if energized by the heat in my cheeks. The magpie swooped to join the lioness, who playfully swatted at it before leaping into the air to join it. 

“So…what other spells are you and your friends mastering in this room?”

George’s glance cut quickly towards me, and the magpie dissipated. “What?”

I allowed the lioness to dissolve as well. “There are multiple training dummies, and whatever spell you have on that door, clearly you don’t want people inside.” I tilted my head at him. “And you’re brilliant, George, but Defense Against the Dark Arts has never been your strongest subject, and considering Umbridge’s educational skills…I can't believe you're doing it on your own."

George looked scared, and as much as I enjoyed finally seeing a bit of fear on his face, I couldn’t let it remain there for long. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep your secret as long as you keep mine.” 

George furrowed his brow. “Your secret?”

I stared at him, tongue-tied with disbelief. Did he really have no idea that he held a vulnerable secret? Had he not recognized that the knowledge of how deeply I loved Clem was a valuable piece of information? A vulnerability that could be easily exploited?

Too late, it seemed to dawn on him, and the sheer delight in his demeanor made me quickly walk for the door. “Wait–” he said.

“Time to leave, isn’t it?” I said shortly, but George caught up with me, blocking my way.

“You’re trying to blackmail me?”

I groaned, hiding my face in my hands. “Can we forget about it?” George burst out laughing, doubling over. I shoved him, hard enough to make him stumble. “Stop laughing at me!”

“I’m…sorry,” George wheezed, clutching his stomach. “You’re just so cute!”

“Excuse me?” I shrieked.

“What do you think you are,” he said, gasping for air, “MI6?”

“It’s a survival mechanism,” I mumbled, and his laughter started anew. Heat rushed into my cheeks. 

George only laughed all the harder.

My goodwill evaporating, I shoved him. Hard.

The aggression in the gesture didn’t move George that far, but his laughter stopped as I stormed out the door. “I’m sorry,” he said, jogging after me, still looking amused. “I didn’t mean to upset you, I’m sorry.”

I turned to look at him and saw the door melting away again. 

“Besides,” George leaned against a pillar, “friends keep each other's secrets.” He looked so comfortable, so unbothered. I didn’t know many Gryffindors who would willingly share the same room with a Slytherin, and here was one of the most Gryffindor of Gryffindors, staring down at me without a hint of a long-suffering sigh. 

“George?” 

“Yeah?”

“Why do you want to be my friend?”

George rolled his eyes, pushing off from the pillar. “Enough with the paranoia, Y/L/N.”

“No, I’m not paranoid, I just…I’m confused.” 

George looked at me suspiciously for a moment before the suspicion dropped. “Well…why wouldn’t I?” he asked, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re smart, and I happen to think your survival mechanisms are extremely endearing.”

“I’m also a Slytherin.”

George groaned. “Not this again.”

I stepped forward, craning my neck to look up at George. “You’re goofy, but you’re not naive. And I can’t believe that you haven’t been given any grief about your interest in me.”

George pursed his lips, clearly unable to disagree and wishing he could. 

“So why are you risking it?”

His brown eyes searched my face as he seemed to gather and ponder his response. “Maybe I was curious,” he said at last. “About the terrifying, mysterious Slytherin that never lifted a finger to harm anyone.”

“I’m not compassionate, George,” I replied. “I never lift a finger to help anyone either, and that’s just as bad.”

“No, I know you’re not, that’s not what I’m saying,” he replied. 

“Well, then what are you saying?”

“It’s…it just…it seems like…” He trailed off, and while the suspense wouldn’t kill me, I was considering killing him.

“It seems like what?”

“It’s like you try not to exist.” George’s face took on an expression of deep perplexity. “You don’t make yourself smaller, not like some people do, you just…float through this castle like the ghosts, leaving no trace and only the occasional word.” 

He stepped closer, and it took everything in me to remain still and allow him close enough to easily step on my toes if he wanted to. “You’re more than just a Slytherin, Y/N. Just like I’m more than just a Gryffindor.”

“Are you sure about that?” I replied, more breathlessly than I’d anticipated in my head. 

“If I wasn’t more,” he smirked, “we wouldn’t be such good friends.”

I blinked at him. He really was curious. And his curiosity was, in turn, making me curious as to what kind of man stood in front of me. “George?”

“Hmm?” he said. 

I gnawed on my lip. “Thank you.”

George’s face went slack. 

“For helping me,” I added, hoping confusion was the only reason he was looking at me like that. “I…appreciate it.” 

There was a beat while George stared at me like my breakfast pumpkin juice had been spiked with Nose-Grow potion and my nose was starting to resemble Professor Snape’s.

Then, a bright, dazzling smile spread across his face. “Cheers, Y/N.”

I lingered for another moment before giving George a sharp nod and quickly descending the stairs, silently asking the universe why my heart felt like it was swelling.

-

Overall tag list:

@thelastpyle @valiantlytransparentwhispers

#harry potter #hp #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #george #george weasley #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #room of requirement #hogwarts #slytherin!reader

[lazyalani]

| Xiao × [F!Reader]

| Hold on, I still need you

| hurt/comfort, part 2 to 'same old empty feeling', angst with happy ending, reader and xiao both heal, they heal with each other, they heal each other, alternate ending, fluff at the end

| Summary: In which Xiao's begs and prays were heard.

Part 2 of same old, empty feeling

| Genshin Impact Masterlist

| Main Masterlist

can you hear me screaming

His breath hitches over and over again. He keeps panicking.

Nononononono

He doesn't know what to do, he keeps touching your face only to pull away like he's been burned.

So cold burns, huh?

It burns him. The coldness of your skin. His eyes are still wide and bloodshot, he doesn't know whether to bring you to his arms, bring you to a healer, call someone, or let you be because holding you might make it worse.

He could've sworn you were just sitting infront of the table earlier when he comes infront of your apartment and looks up to the balcony. Sitting, staring at the food.

Alive.

Until your body suddenly swings to the side and falls down.

His eyes dilated as he choked on a loud gasp, grasping his chest.

You suddenly fell and then he heard the loud crash of the table and then he sees a blurry figure of someone holding something inside your apartment and then the figure looked at him and then it disappeared and then he saw blood on the hanging pots and then....

He fell on his knees, holding his chest and let out short, painful breaths. His chest hurt like hell. He can't breath. He can't speak. He can't think. He can't think about anything except you.

Except your body laying on your blood infront of him when he teleports on your balcony.

Whathappened?Whyareyouonthefloor?Whyisthereblood?Whyisyourbodylimp?Whyareyounotspeaking?Whyisyourbodycold?

"please, don't leave me"

And then a hand presses on his shoulder and back, supporting him. "Xiao, breath, slowly. In, out," A voice said.

He doesn't listen. He can't listen. His nerves are shutting down. His brain cannot comprehend anything anymore.

"Xiao!"

[Name]?

"Xiao! Listen to me!"

[Name]? The floor is dirty, you'll get cold.

"Xiao!"

"Can't he hear you?"

[Name], we need to clean up the blood,

"No he can't! He's dazed, damn it!"

"Xiao!"

Your favorite carpet is dirty now—

"Stop thinking and listen to me!"

— but it's okay, I'll clean it for you

"What do we do?"

"We need to get him to listen first!"

Or I'll buy you a new one...

"Dump water on him!"

"ARCHONS, ADEPTUS XIAO LISTEN TO ME!"

So get up will you? I'll heat the bath for you, you're....

"YOU'RE GOING TO FAINT!"

cold...

"AND SHE'S GOING TO DIE!"

die?

hold on, i still want you

His eyes widened as he let out a huge breath of air, coughing hard and clutching his chest.

The people beside him exhaled in relief, rubbing his back.

"Thank archons! Xiao, are you okay?" Paimon exclaims, floating around him in circles.

The traveller smacks Paimon away lightly. "Xiao, do you hear me now?"

Xiao is still panting when he nods and pinches his arm to stop his mind from drifting away.

"Alright, the wound in her head is not too deep, we can still save her. Can you help me?" They said, and Xiao nods eagerly.

Desperately.

The traveller whips out an odd shaped crystal and lightly taps Xiao's face to take him out of post-panic.

"Listen carefully. I need you to place her on that table," They point at the one on the living room. "very carefully, gently, so I can use this lacrima on her, can you do it?"

Xiao coughs and tries to stand up only to fall on his knees again. His body feels so weak and fragile. His limbs are wobbly and gone soft.

But the hesitation that crossed the traveller's face when they saw Xiao fall and the sight of the 'lacrima' was enough to return all the strength in him.

He couldn't afford to be weak. Not right now. Not ever. Especially when it comes to you.

He tries to stand up again, this time, with success and pure determination and desperation on his face.

"I can do it." I won't fail her again.

come back, i still need you

The traveller nods and gestures to your body. "Alright, get moving, then."

＝★

You're beautiful, Xiao thinks as he stares uo at your sleeping form inside the lacrima.

The lacrima was something the traveller had obtained as a reward during one of their adventures, and it did come in handy. When someone is put on the lacrima, it expands and stops time inside it. Nothing more can enter it when it covers the whole object or person, aside from healing spells and enchantments. Apparently, the former owner said it was an ancient relic.

Xiao had been more worried when the lacrima expanded and swallowed your whole body, but the traveller had been quick to reassure him.

I owe them for this, he nods, still looking at you.

The door opens and enters the traveller.

"You're here, again." They sigh. "Take a rest, Xiao." They said, for the thousand time.

Xiao shakes his head. "I need to be here when she wakes up."

The traveller crosses their arms and stands beside him, also looking at you. "She's beautiful." They commented.

The blood on you and your clothes are gone from the spells that came with the healing. Your hair is spread, not a single speck of dirt or remaining blood on your face. Your whole structure was peaceful, your hands placed on your stomach, on top of each other, your position was like a dead person's position in a coffin, but the glow on your skin says otherwise.

You're alive, Xiao breathes, warm spreading through his chest.

let me take your hand,

Xiao nods. "They are." But then his eyes squinted and narrowedly looked at them.

They kick his leg. "Don't look at me like that! I don't mean it that way, she's just pretty in general, alright?!" They frustatedly sigh.

Xiao looks away and places a hand on the lacrima, feeling the warmness that it radiated to keeo you warm. "I... I cannot thank you enough." He says.

The traveller smiles and waves their hand. "It's no problem, really."

Xiao shakes his head once more. "I owe you everything for this. For saving her. For saving my sanity." For saving me.

The traveller stays quiet, letting him talk his heart out.

"I don't know what I'd do if you hadn't come." He says. "I'd probably lose my shit." The traveller snorts at hearing him swear.

"She is everything to me, traveller. She is my rest, my sanity, my calm, my peace, my serenity, my everything." He chuckles sadly. "I cannot bear to lose another one of my loved ones. I cannot bear to lose her. I can't afford to lose her. Not now. Not ever. Not her." He angles his hand above yours through the lacrima.

"So when things finally calm and settle down, when she wakes up and gets better." His fists clenches as he radiated an aura that almost made the blond beside him flinch.

"I'll hunt down the scum that dared to lay a hand on her and let it be known that I am still one of the kings of this land. That Adeptus Xiao, the protector and conquerer is still alive."

The traveller shivers at his tone.

"That the General Alatus can come back anytime."

And so the traveller thanks every archon alive when your hands twitched under Xiao's through the lacrima.

Both their eyes widened at the movement.

And Xiao feels his breath hitch when your eyes slowly fluttered opened.

i'll make it right

It's when you slowly blink for the second time that the lacrima suddenly breaks into pieces. And Xiao is quick to catch you while the traveller uses anemo to keep the shards from touching the two of you.

Your body is still a bit limp and weak in his arms.

"Xia-- Xiao..." Your voice is weak and it cracks.

The traveller quickly brings a cup of water from a near table and hands it to you before bowing slightly. "I'll leave you two to talk." And they shut the door as they leave.

As you set the cup on the nearby table, before you can even say his name again, you feel his lips on your forehead as tears fell down from his face.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou—" He repeats again and again, his tears wet against your face.

It was as if seeing, feeling him cry and hearing his voice, was a wake up call to you and your nose turn red, eyes swelling up tears of their own.

You cried with him.

"Xiao...."

"I'm here, I'm right here." He whispers, still holding you bridal style even when he sat down.

"Xiao... I.... I was so scared..." You cried on his shoulder, your arms that hung on his neck gripping tighter.

"I know, I know. You're here... There's nothing to be scared of anymore." He caresses your back to soothe you.

"I'm so weird, aren't I? I —I only felt the pain and fear for a second before blacking out but still I...." Your voice cracked.

Xiao's tears don't stop when he still feels your whole body trembling.

"It's fine now. Nothing will hurt you anyone. No one can hurt you anymore. Not as long as I'm alive, love." He brings you closer to him if possible.

i swear to love you all my life

You both fell into a comfortable silence, calming down yourselves and wiping away tears.

"I'm sorry." Xiao suddenly says.

You look up at him, confused. "Xiao, for what?"

He places a hand on your cheek, as if memorizing your face. As if afraid you'd fade away. "For not being there."

You shake your head. "It wasn't your fault. You weren't the one who caused this."

"But I could've been there to prevent it." There was a lingering frustration on his tone. He was frustrated at himself. "If I hadn't left you alone and ate dinner with you, you wouldn't have...." He flinched, he couldn't say it.

Your heart clenched at his reaction. "Oh, Xiao, it wasn't your fault you had other plans for the night. It was a complete coincidence—"

Xiao curs you off with a shake of his head. "No, it wasn't. Whoever that was obviously waited for a moment where I wasn't with you." You feel his hand on your cheek tense. "Don't worry, he won't be able to walk in this world for long."

You held his hand on your cheek and your eyes widened as you saw a familiar bracelet on his hand. "That's—!"

Xiao's grim expression turns into a smile. "Your customized bracelet." He taps the hand supporting you back on your back. "And I have yours on this hand." He says.

Your face turned from surprised to embarassed. "Oh fuck, so you... the letter— " He grins and nods. "— oh bless me Rex Lapis. You really read it?!"

He laughs and nods again. "I read your confession of your undying love for me, love." You almost choked on your own saliva at the petname. "Love?!"

He laughs at your expression. "You were going to give it to me anyway, I was meant to read it still. So why are you so embarassed now?" He pokes your side.

"Ackk— how could I not be?! I mean, couldn't you have waited for a better moment to say it?!"

"You were the one who asked. Whether I answer your question or not, you'd still overthink and get embarassed somehow.

You scratch your neck. "Geez, I rubbed off on you too much..."

He laughs again before sighing and placing his forehead on yours, closing his eyes. "I'll give back as many letters containing my feelings for you as many times as you want. Just— just don't... leave, alright?" He whispers.

You shut your eyes, feeling tears come up again. He reciprocated your feelings.... "Ofcourse, ofcourse... I'll never leave. I'll stay with you, as long as you want me to." You caressed his cheek.

He hummed. "Then you'll stay with me forever." He leaned down and kissed you. You smile into the kiss.

The bracelets might not just be for friendship, afterall.

hold on, i still need you

— ⋆ ࣪ ᖭི༏ᖫྀ Taglist: @persephone-kore-law @aiko-oba @kazumiyax [italics mean: cannot be tagged]

This took so long I'm so sorry, I just had so many plans before this since I originally never planned a part 2. Not proofread.

#genshin xiao #genshin xiao x reader #xiao x reader #xiao x you #adeptus xiao #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin #genshin impact angst #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin angst #lazyalani