#plants n flowers n tubs oh my!

[bau-drabbles]

the night we met, part 2

a/n: mentions of gun and blood. nothing too explicit. hope you enjoy 🤍

what if haley never died that day? but what if your love for hotchner had to?

part 1

i had all and then most of you, some and now none of you...

days trickled into weeks and weeks dribbled into months, hotch had momentarily stepped down as the unit chief leader and instead morgan was in charge. you were partly glad because you didn't know how much you could stand being in hotchner's presence but on the other hand, it was as if your heart willed him to appear in front of you. he was a drug and you wanted to get lost into him, intertwine your souls together as if you were one.

but haley was back and in his arms, safe and sound. why would he give you his time when his wife was there?? all he ever wanted was his family. you were never going to be haley. you could never be jack's parent. you could never be his lover

you're snapped out of your thoughts as the elevator dings, everyone tiredly making their way to grab their personal items and make their way out.

"i'm so excited to go home tonight" emily shrugs on her bag, quickly dumping her personal items into her bag.

"a date?" morgan raises an eyebrow teasingly and she rolls her eyes playfully, shaking her head.

"with my hot tub and before you ask, you're not invited" she gives him a little smirk as they playfully start bantering between themselves. you're lost in the moment, you couldn't remember the last time you had felt so carefree and happy. without a time it felt like your heart was being dragged by anchors, it seemed difficult to keep afloat lately.

"are you okay?" jj quietly asks you amongst the chattering of tonight's plan and you just simply stared into space. it was hard to give an answer and she understood, her hands patting your shoulder sympathetically.

garcia bursts in, capturing everyone's attention. her happiness was practically beaming off from her in waves, excited to share some news. but you walk over to the coffee bench to grab some water, trying to fill the hollowness in you with something other than your boss.

"you guys, may i introduce our newest bau profiler!!" penelope's voice is faint and muffled under the sounds of your thoughts but it's when you see your team giggling at you that makes you perk your eyebrows in confusion. jj waves you over and you narrow your eyes, discarding your coffee to the side.

you hear a coo of aww's filling the room, the team practically melting as you go back to your desk, coming forwards to see what all the fuss was about until you see the vision.

there, five year old jack emerges from behind his parents, giving you his biggest smile. his clothes look like your bau ones, a badge pinned on his jumper to say he was your little helper. he walks towards you, holding some flowers in his hands.

"oh my god, jack...." you chuckle softly, bending down to meet his level. you look at his sweet face and there you see aaron in him, it makes you want to cry at how precious his son was. how beautiful the whole family was.

"thank you for saving my mom, miss y/n" he whispers, his big beautiful eyes glancing up at you.

"thank you for helping work the case jack" you smile softly, gently giving him a high five. he leans forwards planting the tiniest of kisses upon your cheek. then he gives you a huge grin, running off to proudly show his outfit to the others.

you stand, giving him a smile as you grab your bag. hotch was talking to the rest but when he sees you're free, he starts to approach you. immediately as if on autopilot you walk straight to your office. hoping he doesn't follow. hoping he would leave you be.

but your boss was never one to follow instructions

"y/n, how have you been?" he smiles, his dimpled cheeks illuminating underneath the spotlights. he walks forwards but your back is turned to him, seeing him now felt entirely too soon. you thought you were ready but him being here stirrs some emotions you thought had died the night you saved his wife. oh, how wrong you were.

"good, i'm good. thanks" you fidget with the files, hoping he picks up on your discomfort. you drop some papers accidentally which require you to turn around so you grit your teeth and turn, still not making eye contact. hoping someone would call you or him to get out of this beyond awkward situation. but he simply eyes you, his smile disappearing a little. he edges closer and toys with his fingers, his brows raised in thought.

"well... i just wanted to thank you for that night. i can't even begin to describe my appreciation and i never had the chance to talk to you" he tries to smile but you nod, busying yourself with the files in your hands.

"no worries, you would have done the same for me" you smile though every second being in his presence is enough to make you tremble and shake. every second here was enough to make you break and you wouldn't do that. you couldn't break haley and him up after foyet. he deserved to be happy with or without you.

"yes..." he drifts off, unable to shake the feeling that you were avoiding him. had he done something to you? why were you acting like he was contagious with some disease?

"is everything alright?" he doesn't register he's even said the words until you finally make eye contact, your brows furrowed in confusion.

"yes, why?" you reply back a little defensively which adds on to his suspicions, and he's aware something is bothering you now, more specifically he must've done something to make you act like this.

"what's the matter, l/n?" he asks sternly, his brows furrowing deep as you try to side step him. there it is, he's the ssa chief unit hotchner speaking to his colleague demanding an answer.

he doesn't let up and you could feel yourself beginning to break under his gaze. everything that could've been, everything that you so desperately wanted to happen swirling in your eyes. you want to hold him tight and never let go, cry in his embrace and just kiss him until his name is burned into your skin.

only how could you feel like this when his wife and son were but a few feet away, you could hear them now laughing away. how could you be so cruel to do that to jack? he finally had both of his parents.

"n-nothing" you reply hopelessly, it was as though you were under water. your lungs begging for air that never reached for them, your head screaming at you to leave right now. before something happens you'll regret forever.

but he tilts your chin upwards, forcing you to look into his eyes. your breathing was laboured, quivering underneath his powerful gaze. you're not sure which emotion is more dominant, they all burn so bright in his eyes.

i love you, i love you, i love you-

your feet are glued to the floor and you don't let yourself think of the rationality before you do the next part, breaking every rule you had ever written as you both crash into each other.

you don't know who made the first move, all you knew was that his lips were on yours. they were soft, softer than you could've imagined them to be. his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, asking for permission and you relinquish all your control to him.

he holds your head between his warm palms and you pull him closer, needing his touch all over you. his hands trailed delicately across the curves of your body, following the arch of your spine. a burning desire awoke deep in your stomach, arching into him and he tightens his grip around.

"where's dad??" a voice cuts you both off and you jump in shock, heart sinking all the way to your stomach as you realise what you've done.

"i...." he breaks off, taking several steps back. his hands ghost his lips and he looks at you with such an intensity it makes you shake under his gaze. he wants to say something, anything but he only just looks at you.

you were the same, taking a couple steps back until your thighs hit the desk. all of it was hazy, a dream, a play. you try to grasp the concept of what you had done and the shame burns your skin, threatening to spill down your cheeks.

"i-i gotta..." you don't even finish your words, pushing past him. hearing your name being called but unable to turn away, going wherever your legs take you. you managed to duck the rest of the team who were absorbed into the gossip of the office, thankfully. hot tears leave your eyes, trying to calm your racing heart but it feels like you're slipping further and further away from reality.

aaron turns around, his hands clenched around the edge of the desk. pictures of haley, jack and you cloud his mind. how could things have gone so complicated? the kiss it all felt so right, like the piece of the puzzle he was trying to find for years. only now, he feared that your relationship was damaged beyond repair. that this time there wouldn't be a second chance.

he curses, his fists slamming against the desk. all he could think about you, all he needed was you. you were the thing that haunted him when he awoke, before he slept and every second in between. he couldn't let you go like this so he turns and jogs towards the exit, you had to hear the truth.

you duck into the safe sanctuary of your car, bringing your knees to chest. this had all gone so wrong, so fast. you missed him earlier on, missed the simplicity of it all. but now it had all plummeted deep in the ground, unable to be fixed together again. it feels impossible to control your heart rate and your breathing, vision contantly blurry with the tears that won't stop tracking down your cheeks.

in the midst of your heartbreak however, you don't realise that you're no longer alone in your car. before you had time to react, the cold barrel of a gun presses against your temple and your blood runs cold, hands squeezed tightly around the wheel.

words failed you, your scream dies on your lips. hope thuds in your blood, that someone comes out and notices, hoping that he would run after you and gets this attacker off of you.

he had to, he wouldn't leave you alone. he would've come after so where is he?? but the doors remain empty and you feel your heart breaking slowly in your chest.

the voice cuts you off, delivering a hard punch with the back of the gun directly to your temple. you hiss in pain, a wave of nausea and dizziness crashing over you. spots clouded your vision and your right eye was beginning to be covered with a thick warm fluid. it felt hard to see, pouring far too quickly and for a second you panic. but it drops to your lap and you see what it truly was. blood

you inhale sharply gritting your mouth, refusing to say a word. the chill of the metal rests against your head once more, hearing the click of the revolver in place

"drive, now" the voice commanded and you inhale a shaky breath hoping hotch would run out. praying he would come to your rescue. but you realise that life doesn't always go to plan like how you desperately wished it would.

so you follow the order of the foreign man, shaking as you leave the building. far, far away from the safety of your team and hotch.

take me back to the night we met...

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader angst #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch hotchner

[amaretigris]

The Sea Witch's Curse

Taglist: @hopeisrising @daydreamerwithnohobbies @luna2034 @notagreekgal28 @mylittlemermaid221 @justagirlthatlovedtoread @freyagallileaevans

WARNING: EXPLICIT

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅

Epilogue | 1k words | Smut & fluff

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅

Your pale, sensitive skin was getting red and warm. You recalled your feelings of dread and despair at this sensation merely a month ago. How different things had turned out now. You smiled at that thought, letting your fingers swirl and poke the flower petals and bubbles in your bath. You were in your private bathroom in the castle. Your cast iron clawfoot tub was positioned directly in front of a set of balcony doors, overlooking the ocean. You loved this view; you could watch the sunset from here if you so desired.

A brisk knock on your bathroom door pulled you from your peaceful thoughts.

"Come in," you answered.

The only ones who would be knocking on your bathroom door would either be the palace staff assigned to you or your wonderful husband.

Turning your head back to look as the door opened, you were pleased to see Eric's bright blue hues come into view. A smirk twisted his lips as his eyes traced what he could see of your figure.

"My dear wife, I have come to let you know that I've returned from the market. Rosa let me know that you were in the bath. I couldn't risk your safety. I had to come see for myself that you were okay."

"Oh?"

You pinched your brow and feigned innocence.

"My dear husband, I can assure you that I haven't drowned," you replied with a smug smile.

Bracing your arms on the side of the tub, you stood straight up. Water and bubbles dripping off your naked form drew Eric's hungry eyes. He suddenly closed the distance between you, pressing your wet body to his. His rough hand tenderly cupped your cheek as his arm circled your waist.

"What ever will I do with you, my princess? I only want to keep you locked in this castle with me. I'm afraid no one outside will ever see you again," he whispered, brushing his lips to yours.

You felt goosebumps erupt on your skin at the feel of him. You lazily wrapped your arms around his neck.

"I have no answer for that, my prince. I only ever want to be locked in here with you," you answered before beginning a trail of open mouthed kisses on his neck.

Eric let his head fall back and closed his eyes, melting into your touch. After a couple minutes, however, Eric straightened, lifting you from the tub entirely, and carrying you to the bed. You giggled and kicked your feet before Eric threw the comforter back, and planted you on the sheets.

"What are you doing? I'm soaking wet. The sheets-"

"Can be changed," he gruffly interrupted.

"I have to have you now, (Y/N). You have no idea what you do to me," he responded while kicking off his pants and throwing his shirt over his head.

Climbing on top of you and settling himself between your legs, Eric lined the tip of his member up at your sopping entrance.

"Speaking of wet," he smirked, leaning down to your ear, "you're always so ready for me, (Y/N)."

One push and Eric slid inside you. Groaning and trying to center his breath, Eric pumped in and out of you.

"Oh, one day you'll have my children, (Y/N). But for now, I want you all to myself," Eric moaned as he slammed back into you.

Your mouth fell open and you nodded your head frantically.

"Anything for you, Eric. Anything," you sputtered out.

Waves of ecstacy washed over you, and you lost yourself in the pleasure. When you finally came out of it, Eric was lifting your hips, pounding into you at an alarming pace.

"God you're so beautiful when you come undone for me," he practically whimpered.

You nodded, rubbing your hands along his back, and flexing your pelvic muscles. That was all it took to sent Eric spiraling.

Lying in the sticky aftermath, you hummed happily, running your fingers through Eric's curls. His head lay on your chest, and you loved playing with his hair.

"(Y/N)," Eric suddenly spoke.

You looked down at him, keeping your fingers in his locks.

"Do you want to have kids someday? I've realized that we haven't actually talked about it."

You smiled.

"Of course, Eric. I would love to have kids with you. I just think we shouldn't rush into things. Let's enjoy our life together before we introduce someone else into it."

Eric lifted his head to meet your eyes with a smile.

"You've saved my life in every way, (Y/N). You're the kindest person I've ever known. When you're ready, you'll make the most wonderful mother to our children," Eric gushed.

Feeling heat flare on your cheeks, you giggled, poking at Eric's dimples.

"So cheesy," you teased.

Eric's face turned serious for a moment.

"Oh, there is something else. I received a letter from Scuttle today. Since he missed me in Sicily, he wrote me a letter with the information I was looking for," Eric paused.

At your curious expression, he continued.

"I had asked him to find information on the ship and crew that killed your mother, (Y/N). That's what I was meeting him for, before the Sea Witch got to me," he grimaced at the memory.

You swallowed.

"What did the letter say?"

Eric sucked in a breath.

"Scuttle said that the ship went down at sea. None of the crew survived," he answered, waiting for your reaction.

You gave him a soft smile and threaded your fingers back through his hair.

"It's okay, I knew. My father told me. He took revenge on them for my mother's death. He said he stopped living when she died. That's why he sent me back to you. He didn't want me to end up the same way," you shrugged.

Eric nodded, letting his fingers trace over your cheek.

"You know that I'd give my life for you, right (Y/N)? You've done it for me already. And I will spend my life making sure that you never regret that decision," Eric's eyes drifted back up to yours.

"I know, Eric. I never could."

Pulling him in for another kiss, you thanked your lucky stars that the sea brought you to this man.

#the little mermaid 2023 #jonah hauer king #prince eric #jonah hauer king imagine #prince eric x reader #prince eric imagine #prince eric smut #prince eric fanfiction #prince eric x y/n #prince eric x you #prince eric x fem!reader #my stuff

[unhonest-iago]

Red means I Love You

Punz x Reader: the bit from Suicide Squad 2 but w/ the Reader as Harley Quinn

r/w- royalty word; prince, princess, royal

d/s-dress or suit

Gn reader

For narrative purposes, C!Warden/C!Sam neg (basically he's the Joker)

Looking into the driver's center mirror, 'oh wow, I'm a p/r/w.' y/n whispered to themselves. Surprised by how the makeup artists sitting on both sides of them had dolled them up. The red d/s complimenting their dual colored hair. As the limo crawled up the driveway, they were able to see a line of staff standing on the sides. Fabric whishing around y/n's legs as they stepped out, letting out a gasp. 'r/w, on behalf of the entire staff of our honorable general mercenary Punz,' the head of staff began, gesturing towards the illustrious estate, 'It's a pleasure to serve you.' Raising their eyebrows, y/n gave a small thanks, following them in sans shoes. Skipping from white square to white square on the tile. Playing a little game in their head, 'My mother said to count back again. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.' A guard close behind them.

'Ha colonel, beat that.' Eyes widening as they saw Punz step out of a small pool, presumably a hot tub. A member of staff holding open a pristine robe, Punz placing his arm in the armhole before taking the other side, tying it shut. Y/n eyes scanning up and down his body as he did so. Unable to deny that he was attractive. 'Forgive my appearance, r/w. I have admired you from afar for many years now.' Walking up to meet y/n halfway, bringing their hand to his lips. Gently kissing it as though taught to be a gentleman. All y/n was able to say in response was to ask, 'Me?'

'You're a hero to me,' nodding to the others standing in the room, 'As well as my people.'

'I think you might got me confused.'

'Y/f/n l/n's fire and rebellion in the face of American oppression is to something my entire siege aspires to.' Y/n taken aback by this statement, 'oh wow.' Further inviting y/n to lunch with him, taking their hand in his.

Glasses clinking together in the form of a cheers, turkey leg in the other hand. Pausing to let out a bellowing laugh, one that comes from the stomach rather than the throat. More than a mere chuckle as y/n's head tilts back. Laughing at the joke Punz had just said, not thinking it to be that funny. But he'd say it again just to see them laugh. Joining with his own, their leaning into their space. Later asking to if he can clean a spot on their cheek from where a morsel of food sat. Licking his thumb before gently wiping it off.

Both standing on a bridge, overlooking the ravine near where Punz lived. Y/n leaning their head on his shoulder as Punz hugged them from behind. His arms next to where there's rested on the cool stone. The sun setting in the distance.

In a plant nursery surround by tropical birds, some landing in y/n arms. Some perching on their shoulders. The setting sun gleaming on the stained glass behind them, akin to a renaissance painting with the red flowers in their hair. Awestruck as the birds flitted around the room. Punz standing across from them with a bird treating his hair as a nest. Attempting to taking screenshot of y/n in his mind's eye. As if this day was his last and he'd never see y/n's iridescent beauty again.

As the night came to a crawl, Punz stood by the window. Lighting a cigarette as he stood only in his boxers and button down shirt opened. Pointing to the large fortress. 'The Warden came here seeking aslyum after the  L'Manbergian war.' Y/n leaning backwards, hand holding them up against the table. Gazing at the same fortress Punz pointed towards. 'They built Jotunheim to continue their unothrodox experiments,' pausing to flick the ash off of his cigarette, 'Until the Minecraft family accepted the bounty of the Warden's head.'

'Wowza,' y/n's face crestfallen at the history lesson Punz was giving them. 'Many years, the rumors began of a beast. The dark rumors helped the Minecraft family maintain power; they would send their political enemies and their families to the fortress, never to return. I have recently learned these were not rumors, they were murdering thousands in bizarre experiments with this creature.' Punz turning away from y/n. 'That must be a big relief it got into your hands now, huh?' Deciding to pay rapt attention to his next response. To determine if he was a bad egg or not.

'Absolutely, now it's our enemies that shall be fearful. If anyone dares to say a negative word about their new mercanery today--their parents, their children and anyone they ever loved will be sent to Jotunheim to feed the bea--.' Punz clutched his stomach, feeling his fingers drench with blood. Y/n shot him, staring Punz in the eyes as the revolver was still pointed at him. Muttering a soft 'I'm sorry' as they clasped their other hand around the body of the gun.

'Recently I made a promise to myself that the next time I got a boyfriend, I'd be on the lookout for red flags and if I saw any, I would do the healthy thing. And I would murder him.' Punz slumped to the ground as the pain made his kneecaps buckle. 'And killing kids, kind of a red flag. I know, I know, I know what you're trying to say. Y/n, why not just leave? And I'd say are you screaming at me? I'm not deaf, I'm standing right here.' Punz rolled over to his stomach as y/n monologued, attempting to crawl away as he hadn't expected this to happen.

'Then I'd say when your taste in men is as bad as mine, they don't just go away quietly.' They shook their head as they thought back to their time with a corrupted Sam. 'They slash your tires and kill your dogs and tell you that the music you like ain't real music at all. And all the cruelty,' swallowing back tears, 'tears you apart after a while.'

#iago writes #x reader #mcyt #dsmp #gn reader #punz x reader #punz #dsmp punz #mcyt punz

[happyheidi]

#plants n flowers n tubs oh my! #cottagecore #flowers #flowercore #pressed flowers #plants #plantcore #interior #plantcommunity #farmcore #grandmacore #warmcore #bathtub #bathroom #green witch #greenery

[violettelueur]

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE SIX || AFTER RAIN

↳ featuring : fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara + zenin maki + inumaki toge + panda from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of death + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 25 february

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 2.6k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : curse womb must die II

↳ next episode : assault 

↳ barista’s notes : hey hey hey~ let me admit, i have no idea how to write the next episode since you don’t see anyone in them except for gojo and itadori (domain expansion episode) ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ so i might have to improvise something now...BUT there’s nothing much happening in this episode, so i hope you still enjoy it even when there is no action or anything interesting going on ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter

2.5 for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique 

no cursed spells used this episode...

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing

“We’re in!” Fushiguro and Kugisaki simultaneously answered with determined looks on their faces before turning back to look at you, waiting for your answer.

Letting out a sigh of frustration, you knew that you had no way out of this since they looked so motivated for you to join, even if you disagreed with them.

“This is such a drag, but fine, I’ll join in too,” you replied with a small smile on your face leading them to nod at you before turning back to your seniors.

“But if I decided this training and exchange event is pointless, I’m quitting instantly,” Kugisaki mentioned.

“Same here,” Fushiguro commented, causing you to kick both of them on the back much to their surprise.

“So you drags make me do this event, only for you to dip when it’s pointless for you, besides I heard there are some interesting sorcerers in the Kyoto side, so prepare yourselves,” you stated before stepping down the few steps you were in front of before standing between them.

“Well, people this cocky are all more worthwhile to train,” Panda mentioned with his arms folded with a determined look on his face.

“Bonito flakes,” Inumaki said in a softer tone.

Looking up to the sky, you couldn’t help but brisk in the sunlight that was shining lightly down upon you, leading you to raise your hand over your face in order to not be blinded.

‘I wonder how I’m going to hide from this one now?’

                                                   ꕥ

“You’re late, Megumi,” Zenin obviously mentioned, as her head was turned with what seemed like to be a wooden combat pole in her hand as it casually leaned against her shoulder.

“Kelp,” Inumaki stated, as he was sitting on the ground, also having his head turned to look at the Shikigami user, ignoring what seemed to be a race between Kugisaki and Panda going on behind him.

“What were you doing?” Maki asked curiously, as Fushiguro made his way down the stone steps towards his upperclassman while zipping up his blue track top.

“What does it matter?” Fushiguro then questioned, not giving the weapon-wielder sorcerer a clear answer since he thought there was no need sharing the fact that he went to visit the mother of the man (that Itadori want to save) that had been killed by the special-grade curse back at Eushi Detention Centre to pay his condolences.

“Zenin-senpai...what kinds of people do you want to save as a jujutsu sorcerer?” Fushiguro queried, as he processed to stare down upon the ground trying to hide his emotions to compose his stoic nature, causing the mentioned sorcerer to turn her head once again to look at the other student.

“Huh? It’s not like I care if my actions save anyone,” Zenin answered in a matter-of-fact tone, causing Fushiguro to look to the side with an ‘I’m done’ expression.

“I shouldn’t have asked,” Fushiguro muttered in a lowered tone, leading Zenin to instantly become annoyed as she eyed at the erratic-haired boy with instant irritations in her eyes as well as expression.

Suddenly…

“FUSHIGURO! Quit asking interview prep questions! Switch with me! I’m sick of these school uniforms! Let me go buy some cute tracksuits!” Kugisaki shouted in a fit of rage, as she was strangely spun around in a dizzy circle like she was at a funfair circus as a clueless gymnast before being thrown in the air by Panda.

“What are those two doing?” Fushiguro confusingly asked as he watched the amusing sight process while his classmate landed on the floor.

“Falling practice!” Panda announced as he pointed his finger in the air like what he was doing was obviously.

“Mustard leaf,” Inumaki stated as if to confirm Panda’s answer, as he too looked at the ridiculous scene.

“You’re both weak in close quarters, after all,” Panda stated, as he informed his younger classmen on why what he was doing, made sense to the training that he had planned.

“By the way, where is Y/N? She was with you when you both left to do whatever you were doing,” Zenin questioned, as she looked around the area behind her to see if you were there since she did miss your presence the last time you both met.

“She said she needed to go somewhere important, but will be back as quick as possible,” Fushiguro recalled, as he remembers after you both met with Tadashi’s mother, you informed him that you had to go somewhere for the time being, but didn’t tell him where you were exactly heading off to.

“That’s fine, I guess,” Maki replied back as she processed to swing around the wooden pole she had in her hand with such grace and accuracy before continuing with, “if what that idiot Gojo said to us about her is true, she could beat all of us in an instant, she’ll probably be perfect in the individual’s battle,”.

“Okay, land a blow on us,” Zenin stated, with her palm out, as if inviting Fushiguro to attack her.

                                                ꕥ

“I’m here, mother”

As of right now, you were holding a small bouquet of a beautiful arrangement of blue hydrangeas paired with white roses with some incense sticks in one hand, while the other was holding a wooden tub filled with water with a wooden ladle as well as a plastic white bag with items you quickly brought from the corner store causing you to quickly place your items down before leaving the delicate bouquet in a safe area.

Digging through the white plastic bag, you pulled out a cloth before removing the stubborn tags that refused to be taken off as you processed to soak the material before beginning to wipe down the marble gravestone that towered you as your crouched down before cleaning the vase that you had also brought from the corner store - yet you were surprised at the fact there were no weeds to be pulled.

After you had quickly clean the gravestone, you picked up the incense sticks in their rightful holder before lighting them up with a match (that you also brought from the store) before carefully removing the paper that held the flowers to gently place the floral plants in the same neat arrangement in the now cleaned vase.

Making sure the china vase was placed in the middle, you grabbed the wooden ladle that was in the wooden bucket, making sure it had enough water before standing back up on your feet to pour the clear liquid over the grave as you then placed the ladle back into the bucket.

Placing your hands together in prayer, before internally thanking your mother for protecting you as well as expressing your gratitude for her.

“They’re your favourite flowers right?” you gently asked, as you stared down at the flowers that were beautifully sitting in the vase. “Those were really expensive you know, I wonder how you were able to buy them so often without any regrets,” you muttered with a small smile before crouching back down as if you were going to look eye to eye with the gravestone like your mother was going to be sitting in front of you.

“I've been found…but...I wasn’t as bad as I suspected, the people at Jujutsu Tech are such drags but they’re really nice people,” you expressed, as you continued with, “I’m sorry I took so long to visit, you know Sendai to Tyoko is a really long journey, technically that’s both our faults since we agreed that we wanted to rest in Tokyo if we did pass,”.

Looking at the marble stone in front of you, you could see the thin smoke of incense that was slowly swirling into the air, as if it was trying to hypnotise you with its graceful movements. However, even though you knew you had to get back to Jujutsu Tech as quick as you could, you couldn’t help but utter a few more words to your late mother.

“I miss you mum”

                                                ꕥ

“Ah- am I late?”

At this current moment in time, it seemed like training had taken a pause since everyone was seated somewhere close to the stone stairs that lead the way down to the track field.

“Where were you? I needed you to train Megumi more,” Zenin asked, as you carefully made your way down the stairs with another white plastic bag in hand before making your way to your upperclassmen with one hand holding each handle, leaving an opening that was large enough to let her have a view on the contents inside.

“Sorry, I was visiting someone, but I got you guys some refreshments since I know you all were going to be tired by the time I came. Oh! The orange juice is mine by the way,” you mentioned, as you swiftly grabbed the orange carton from the bag as if someone was going to steal it if you didn’t.

Smiling at you, Zenin leaned away from the tree bark to see what she could choose from the bag, before reaching in, to grab that bottle of water as her choice before you processed to hold the bag around for everyone to get a pick on what beverage they wanted before you took a seat on the steps between Fushiguro and Inuamki.

“Where’s Kugisaki?” you asked in curiosity, as you looked around the fielded area only to not find your classmate leading Fushiguro to explain to you that she went out to buy a tracksuit since she didn’t have one, causing you to realise that you probably needed to change later but for now, you didn’t find being in your school uniform since the slit on the side of your long skirt, made it easier to move as well as deal with the warm environment that was coming in for the season at the moment.

“Gojo, your katana is a cursed weapon right?” Fushiguro asked, causing you to look at him weirdly after stabbing the straw into the carton before giving him a nod as a way to reply to his question.

“I agreed with the others that supplementing my close combat with weapons is the best choice right now, but with my cursed technique, I want to be able to free both hands at any time, with katanas, you lose time sheathing them,” Fushiguro explained, as he placed the pads of his fingers together while looking down at them.

“How do you carry your weapon when your cursed technique is used by your hands as well, also how did you manage to hide the chain attached at the end?” Fushiguro asked as he looked up at you, only to be surprised when he saw you looking at him with an annoyed expression.

‘That’s one way to somewhat expose me, I guess’

“I can utilise my technique by using only one hand, although there are times when I have to use both hands like you. However, I rarely unsheathe my katana, so it usually hangs on my back,” you described, causing Fushiguro’s to concentrate on you, trying to understand your technique since it seemed more complicated then you made it look at your battle with Sukuna.

“About the chain, the red charm cancels the chain being constructed since it will use my cursed energy, not a lot for me, but it’s a drag since I need the extra bit. When the charm is off, I use my curse energy to conceal before clicking my fingers to reveal it, if I want to, and when I use two hands, I can use the chain to pull it back,” you explained, causing the second-years to be surprised at the amount of cursed energy you have to use to employ such a simple weapon - maybe it wasn’t as simple as they intentionally thought.

“How much cursed energy do you possess, Y/N?” Panda asked as he placed his paw on his chin in a thinking posture, only for Fushiguro to answer the question.

“She has a lot more than she is showing right now, I don’t know how but she can hide it,” Fushiguro stated, causing you to smack the back of his head before placing the neglected straw back to your lips since you were desperately craving the citrus content that was in the carton.

“Zenin-senpai, you often carry more than two around with you, right? How do you do that?” Fushiguro queried as he rubbed the back of his head to soothe the pain you had given him.

“I made Panda carry them,” Zenin answered, as she pointed at the classmate leading to the animal sorcerer to proudly show off his muscles as if to inform you and Fushiguro on how strong he was.

“I shouldn’t have asked, part two,” Fushiguro muttered under his breath, causing you to giggle internally at the statement as you wondered what he must have asked the first time since ‘part two’ was in the sentence.

“Some sorcerers keep cursed spirits that can store and retrieve objects,” Panda presented a well-thought idea, even though there was a disadvantage to that.

“He can’t do that. It’s a rare thing and it takes time to tame them, as well. But if you find any, let me know,” Zenin countered, before Panda replied for the payment he wanted if he ever finds a curse for her, causing you to zone out from the conversation as you processed to stare down at the step before you, that was slightly darkened by the shade of your shadow.

In curiosity, you took a side glance at your classmate only to notice that he was in deep thought, leaving you to figure something out for him while he thought of his own solution.

‘His shikigami uses shadows for a medium, then if that is the case…’

Using your hand that was occupied with your orange juice, you leaned forwards slightly, letting the tips of your fingers touch the stone step below you while making them land in the middle of your shadow.

“I think you can do that,” you stated in a quiet tone, causing Fushiguro to look in your direction only to see you staying still in the position that you had set yourself in before slowly pulling yourself back up to sit in a normal position, leading Fushiguro to go back to what he was in deep thought about.

‘I don’t get it, though. Why...did you run back then? What a waste of talent, but the girl back at that place, she knows how to use her technique extremely well’

“You possess such intellect, such skill, such power and such talent and yet you refuse to go against me with your full potential, are you mocking me?”

‘I have the potential to beat special grades? Is that what he meant by that?’ Fushiguro thought, before turning to look at you to discover you were looking into the distance while continuously sipping on your orange juice like the addict you were. 

‘What was she trying to tell me? It seemed like L/N knows something...intellect?’

Slowly but curiously, Fushiguro began to reciprocate your previous movements by letting his hand touch the step between his legs before waiting for a second to see what you were trying to inform him, only for his hand to steadily go deeper into his shadow leading him to widen his eyes at this discovery.

“Tuna, tuna,” Inumaki mentioned, as he pointed at Fushiguro since he noticed what he was doing, leading Zenin and Panda to look at their classmate wanting to know what he was trying to bring their attention to.

“Huh? What?” Zenin asked in confusion, before turning her head in the shikigami user’s direction to realise what he was doing.

“Senpai, I think I can do it,” Fushiguro stated with a rare smile, before looking in your direction once again to see you were still staring at the field in front of you.

‘Such intellect…’

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk imagines #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #fushiguro megumi #kugisaki nobara #zenin maki #inumaki to/ge #jujutsu kaisen panda #jjk panda #fushiguro megumi x reader #kugisaki nobara x reader #zenin maki x reader #inumaki to/ge x reader #fushiguro megumi imagines #kugisaki nobara imagines #zenin maki imagines #inumaki to/ge imagines

[shoutaaizawas]

↳  keigo takami x fem!reader → ❝nest❞

summary: hawks is acting odd again but you’re having a harder time figuring this one out. it’s not until he takes you out for a date night that it all makes sense. word count: 1.8k+ tags/warnings: fluff, hawks being birdy again a/n: another one in the series of hawks acting like a bird, can be read as a sequel to ‘shiny things’ and ‘preening’ but also by itself

Hawks was at it again. His odd behavior was becoming less concerning at this point. This time you were concerned for a different reason, it didn't seem like it was bird-related this time. Normally Hawks was at work that wasn’t unusual but there had been a few occasions where you tried to get a hold of him and couldn’t so you called someone you thought he’d be with at work only to find out he wasn’t working at all.

It was very rare for Hawks to not be working, if he wasn’t he was usually with you. You tried hard to not jump to conclusions. You had been dating for a while now and it was serious but you still had separate lives. There was nothing wrong with him doing something and not telling you.

Then there were his wings. They were red, well they were always red but now there were even more vibrant if that was possible and they always seemed to be even more puffed up around you. You couldn’t think of a reason for it and it didn't seem related to the previous concern at all.

On top of that he was being clingy, not that you saw that as a bad thing. You cherished any moment you could spend with him and if he wanted to spend it glued to your side even better.

In the past, it felt easier to piece together his odd behavior but this time you were struggling to find an answer.

It was a late afternoon and you were on the couch with your head in Keigo’s lap. You read a book you had been meaning to catch up on when Kegio started to ask you questions.

“What’s your favorite style of houses?” He questioned, his hand brushing along your hair soothingly.

“Hmm?” You questioned looking up from your book. That was odd. “I don’t know. I guess something simple but not too simple that it’s boring. Some character is always nice.”

“Okay.” He said thoughtfully before he started to trace his fingertips along your arm.

That was an odd question but Keigo wasn’t a stranger to odd questions.

“What about things in a house you like?” He said after some time in silence passed.

You looked up again over your book.

“Hmm… Natural light is good. High ceilings. A big bathtub. A nice yard.” You answered.

“Okay.” He said not elaborating.

That seemed to be an isolated event, his odd questions about housing. It was out of nowhere but eventually, you forgot about it.

That was until Keigo texted you to get changed and that he would pick you up by six. It wasn’t unusual for him to surprise you with a night out but as you pulled up to a house you weren’t sure what was going on.

It was beautiful, not too close to any neighbors and nice green landscaping around the house. You walked up the walkway with Keigo, he opened the door without knocking. You gave him an odd look but he didn’t elaborate.

Stepping into the house it was even more beautiful on the inside. It had high ceilings, big windows, and a skylight in a big space that was the living room. The living room was filled with nice furniture that all complemented each other perfectly, it was all just your favorite style and colors too.

Keigo took you by the hand walking you into the back yard. It too was beautiful, a big patio surrounded by tropical greenery was the first thing you saw. Looking out further into the yard there was a pool with stonework surrounding it with a gazebo on the other side.

In that gazebo, there was a table with candles and flowers on it as well as plates. He led you over there, pulling out the chair for you.

“This is lovely, Kei.” You said. “What’s the occasion?”

“Do I have to have an occasion to spoil you?” He teased as he sat down across from you. There was soft music playing in the background to compliment everything, the sound of the small waterfall in the pool was a nice addition.

“I suppose not but this is a bit different.” You said. Dinner at a random beautiful house that felt like it was something out of your Pinterest boards was a weird choice for a date night.

A man walked up to the table nearly scaring you with his presence as he placed down food in front of the two of you. It was your favorite meal. Something was going on but you couldn’t quite figure it out.

You brushed it away, you would find out eventually there was no point in not enjoying what was in front of you. The two of you started eating and talking about your day like normal.

It was nice, the weather was perfect and the atmosphere even more so. After dinner, he stood up.

“Do you want to see the house?” He asked. You still weren’t sure why you were here but you loved a good house tour.

“Yeah.” You said with an excited smile.

Keigo led you back to the house into the large living room. The room beside it was the kitchen. It also had high ceilings and a lot of space. Everything in it looked brand new. The marble countertops were a nice finish to it all.

“This is the kitchen.” He said. “Then there are four bedrooms.”

Keigo led you down an open hallway, every door he passed he would open and show you. The three rooms were empty but had flooring you liked. The last door was to the master bedroom. It was big and had furniture in it, you noted that you loved the style of everything in here as well. There was an amazing master bath, it had a giant tub and all the amenities you could think of that a bathroom could have.

“This is a beautiful house,” You said. “Why are we here?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“Here, let me show you the garden.” He said taking you by the hand again, he didn’t answer your question but you went with it figuring he would eventually explain. He pulled you towards the yard again but this time to another part of the yard. The greenery increased and it felt like something out of a movie.

The plants were everywhere but no overgrown that you couldn’t go through. It was stunning. You looked over to Keigo and saw him looking at you with a big smile.

“Do you like it?” He asked looking a bit nervous.

“I love it. All of it’s beautiful.” You said. “I guess I’m just kind of confused.”

Keigo took your hands in his looking at you intensely.

“I love you, more than anything. You know that already.” He said seriously. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, you make me complete. You make my life so much better than I ever thought it could be. I love you and I want to see you happy, I want to make you happy more than anything else.”

You watched him carefully as he poured out his heart to you. His words made your stomach flip.

“You put up with me and all the baggage I come with-” He started but you stopped him.

“I don’t put up with it, I gladly bear it just like you do the same for me.” You told him. There was no ‘putting up’ with Keigo. You loved him and you were more than happy to be there for him through it all.

“Sorry,” He said with a small laugh. “You gladly bear my baggage and all the weird things I do. I mean I was giving you the most random things as gifts and you never batted an eye, you just took it and appreciated it because it was from me. You don’t just accept who I am you go out of your way to return my affections the same way I show them. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

It was impossible not to tear up at his words. You squeezed his hands gently not wanting to interrupt him.

“Will you marry me?” He said reaching into his pocket and pulling out a ring. It was beautiful, it was rose gold with an opal and so faintly that you almost didn’t see it there were small wings engraved into the band.

“Keigo, yes.” You said. His wings puffed up in excitement as he rushed forward to hug you, the ring still in his hands. He held onto you so tight, his face in your shoulder and his wings wrapped around you.

“Oh, the ring.” He said with a small laugh as he let go. He gently took your hand in his and slid the ring on.

“I love you so much.” You said hugging him again.

The two of you stood there in the garden in bliss, forgetting the world around you for a few moments.

“Wait, so why are we at this house?” You questioned still not fitting that into the night’s events.

“Answer this first, do you like it?” He questioned.

“I love it, it’s like everything I would want in a house.” You said.

“Well, that’s good because it’s yours.” He said. You looked at him in confusion.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“I bought it, for you.” He said as if it made sense. “I mean I want to marry you, we need somewhere to live. Both of our apartments are nice and all but you deserve something far better.”

“You just went and bought a house.” You said.

“Yeah, and I had somethings changed to fit what you like.” He said. “I may have looked on your Pinterest boards.” He said sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

Suddenly, it all clicked once again. His bird tendencies were back at it again. He wanted you to be his ‘mate’ and so he had done what any good bird did, he made you a nest. Although in his own way he bought you a nest and dressed it up in a way he thought you would like. The clinginess, the vibrant plumage from before, it was all a part of making himself appealing as possible to you so you would accept.

Your heart skipped a beat. You hadn’t expected these tendencies when you started dating him but they were so romantic and endearing you could never complain.

“I didn’t decorate everything, I figured you would like to do some of that yourself-”

Keigo was stopped as you wrapped your arms around him and kissed him, hands tangling into his wind-swept blond locks that you loved so much.

“It’s perfect.” You said. “You’re perfect. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

taglist:    @sugarmaplewings-fics @lilkiwisfinest @ewwis-but-more-otaku @kandy1410 @moonlightaangel @winnies-headcannons @bkglovesyou @paintedr0ses1 @toobsessedsstuff @spellboundxizi @ourladyofseijoh  @x0doodlebug0x @katsushimaa @mooncademia @moon-write @todominica @why-so-red @kvichisaki @seijoh

#hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo x reader #bnha x reader #x reader #mha x reader #hawks #keigo takami #bnha #mha #my writing

[sugaslilsugabby]

Corrupt

F!reader x Simeon

Obey me

⚠️WARNINGS: NSFW, Dom angel bby, overall pure filth⚠️

18+ I am an adult writing this, minors do not interact pls and thank you. No reposting. Reblogs are appreciated 🥺💗

A/N: I finally finished writing this after a WHILE of procrastinating bc I’m a terrible writer, thank you so much @letgobro for being so patient with me even though this was requested forever ago 🥺💗

It was safe to say as much as you loved the brothers you would always confide in Simeon the most. The way he would call you his “little lamb” would send shivers down your spine, he was so sweet and caring, especially to young Luke no matter how feisty he may be. What you did not expect was for him to have a more dominant side, and you would’ve never known about it if it weren’t for tonight.

It was Saturday, or as Asmo liked to call it “The day where we can get fucked up and not have to worry about classes the next day.” So he decided it was a perfect idea for a visit to The Fall, while Barbatos watched Luke in the Demon Lord’s castle for the night.

You heard a squeal from behind you, the Avatar of Lust clapping his approvingly at the skin-tight black dress that clung to your every curve and accentuating them nicely. “Darling you look STUNNING!” He said as he looked over every inch of your body, “Asmo this is a little too showy, it’s not like I’m trying to impress someone.” You said whilst staring at yourself in the mirror. You heard a small ‘tsk tsk tsk’ come from behind you, “I see how you look at Simeon, you literally GLOW! You can’t fool the Avatar of Lust honey.” He said as he handed you a pair of black pumps.

“He’s a literal angel Asmo, isn’t premarital sex a sin or something?” You said rolling your eyes, “Besides; even if he COULD he doesn’t see me as anything more than a friend.” You said, putting the finishing touches on your makeup, swiping the lip gloss against your plump lips you stare at yourself in the mirror. “Whatever darling, let’s just go have some fun!”

You sighed, the club was in full swing. Demons grinding up on each other, demons playing tongue hockey in the back of the club, and the strong smell of demonus and other alcoholic drinks in the air. You sat at a booth, demonus in hand as you stared out into the crowd. Everyone was having a good time and here you were alone. “What have we here? Looks like a certain little lamb strayed away from the group.” You looked up startled to see Simeon, a small smile on his face, drink in hand. “Ah, Simeon! I didn’t think clubs were something you enjoyed.” You said, scooting over to let him in.

“I don’t dislike them, we just don’t have many in the celestial realm. What are you doing alone? I’m surprised Asmodeus hasn’t tried to set you up with someone.” He said, chuckling softly. You giggled, “Oh trust me he has. I’m just not interested, not interested in them anyway.” You said softly.

“Oh? But you are interested in somebody? Do tell little lamb.” Simeon said teasingly, his elbows resting on the table as he cradles his head in his hands. “That is a secret I won’t tell, sorry Simeon.” You said, turning your head, blushing slightly.

You felt a big strong hand on your thigh, his other hand softly grabbing your chin to make you face him. You avert your eyes, a pink tint evident on your cheeks. “S-Simeon!” You heard him chuckled, his face nearing yours. “If I were to tell you that I am in love with you what would your answer be little lamb?” Your heart began beating loudly, your pupils dilating as you looked at the angel that currently had you in the palm of his hand, without thinking you pushed your lips on his, your body instantly relaxing against him as he deepened the kiss.

You let out a whiny moan, as he broke the kiss. His eyes now darkened with lust as he caressed your thigh, “Forgive me but I simply cannot hold back anymore.” He said as he picked you up bridal style, your arms instantly circling his neck as he carried you back to Purgatory Hall.

He threw the door to his room open, kicking it closed with his foot as he placed you on his bed, instantly pinning you down. “Do you know how hard I’ve been trying to keep myself calm around you? Every time I go into heat I can’t stop thinking about your lips wrapped around my cock, you drive me insane Y/N.” Simeon said, his hand coming down to your now-soaked lace panties. He let out a groan, his fingers ever so slightly teasing your soaking folds.

“S-Simeon please!” You heard him chuckle as he placed kisses down your neck, leaving a mark on your breast. “Please what darling? I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me. Be a good girl and tell me.” You bucked against his finger, whimpering slightly as you try to gain more friction. “Simeon don’t tease me, want you.” You said breathlessly. He let out a playful growl as he ripped off your dress, your panties following the same fate. A groan came from his throat as he eyed your slick pussy, licking his lips he pressed playful kisses to your inner thighs, “So needy baby, I’ll give you what you want just be patient.” He says, his fingers trailing up to your folds.

He spread your slick lips, placing a kiss on your pearl before licking a long stripe up your delicate flower. Your back arching at the sensation of the angel eating you like it was his last meal, your hands ran through his silky hair, clinging to it as pleasure came in waves through your body. “F-Fuck Simeon, your gonna make me cum!” You shrieked, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull as every nerve-ending in your body was set alight. “That’s it baby, let it out. Good fucking girl.” Simeon said, lapping up your cum as you rode out your high.

You tugged at his shirt softly, “Wanna see you too..” Palming his erect cock through his pants, a moan falling from his lips. It sounded so heavenly yet oh so sinful at the same time. He pulled away and stood up from the bed, ridding himself of his shirts and pants, your legs squeezed together at the sight of his taught chest. He grabbed you by the arms, planting you on the floor in front of him, your mouth watering at the fact that you were now face-to-face with the still covered thick erection. “You looked so fucked out and I haven’t even fucked your tight little pussy.” he cooed as he removed his boxers.

He let out a hiss, his thick cock standing tall, pre-cum leaking out of the swollen tip. He grabbed your hair, tilting you to look up at him, “Mouth open little lamb, wanna feel your lips around my cock.” You opened your mouth, looking up at him innocently as he slid the tip of his cock in, he let out a guttural groan as his hips bucked at the feeling, pushing your head down and gagging you on his cock, head thrown back in pleasure. He steadily began face fucking you, drool and precum trickling down the sides of your mouth, big doe eyes looking up at him with tears.

As much as Simeon wanted to cum down your throat he pulled out. Picking you up and laying you on the bed once more. You bucked your hips upward, “Please Simeon!” A sinful chuckle fell from his puffy lips as he hovered over you, strong arms holding him up as he teasingly ghosted your lips, “So eager little one, do you want my cock that bad?” You let out a gasp as the tip of cock rubbed against your now swollen nub, your hips bucking upwards for more friction, a low groan came from above you as Simeon guided his tip to your slick entrance.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he sheathed himself into your drooling cunt, your nail digging crescents into his shoulder, “F-Fuck! S’big Simeon!!” He lowered his head down to your neck, letting out a growl as he sunk his teeth into you, “I’m not even fully in angel, so tight for me.” You whimpered, rutting your hips against him, desperately wanting to feel the rest of him. Simeon pulled out to ram back into you, a shriek escaping your lips. Your slick cunt deliciously stretched around him, “Such a good girl for me, so fucked out, all for me.” He licked his lips, fingers coming down to rub your clit as he quickened his pace, a broken moan leaving your parted mouth as you felt the white-hot pleasure consuming you once again, you had never felt this good during sex, “S-Simeon, s’too much, mmmm g-gonna cum!” Fingers never relenting their pace on your engorged clit as the words ‘cum for me again Y/N’ left his mouth, you clamped down on his cock, arousal coating his cock, a couple more thrusts as you felt his hips stutter, a choked moan escaping him as he came, thick ropes of his cum coating your gummy walls.

As you came down from your high you let out a whimper, feeling empty as Simeon pulled out, getting up and starting the bath for the both of you, “Come here, pretty girl.” He cooed as he scooped you up in his arms, your arms wrapping around his neck. Sitting both of you in the tub as he littered your face in kisses. It was pure bliss and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Taglist:

Literally the only person I have to tag is @voltagesmutter (if your reading this Bella pls marry me because you are so precious and ily with all my heart 🥺💗) also pls let me know if you want to be on my taglist so I can add y’all 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

#obey me smut #obey me simeon #obey me simp #obey me imagines #obey me #obey me solmare #fanfiction smut #smut

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part IV

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.6k

Warning: a big helping of abandonment/daddy issues, lots of feelings, explicit sexual content A/N: y’all are gonna be so soft and then so mad lmao. 

The plan was to go to Mike's house then back to campus. You said you didn't have anything to do at your mom's, that a long phone call would suffice, which is why Mike is confused when you ask him if you can stop by before going back. It's an hour out of the way, but it's not like he has anything better to do, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious about your humble beginnings. 

 The house is in a decent-looking neighborhood, small, nearly identical one-story homes surrounded by cracked sidewalks. He has to be careful not to trip as you make your way to the front porch, pots of dead or dying plants along the edges of it. You shove your key into the lock, twist and open, then motion for Mike to follow. 

 The den is dimly lit, ceiling fan above with only one working bulb. A crime show is playing on the TV but there's no one watching. There is, however, another light pouring from a back room, and as soon as you drop your bag on the couch, a head pokes out from the doorway. 

 "Baby girl!" A shrill voice cries, and Mike sees you grimace. "I thought you weren't coming by!" 

 A woman walks into the den wearing long, cotton shorts and an old tie-dye shirt then pulls you into a hug so tight that it makes you cough. 

 "Mom," you take a deep breath as if to refill your lungs with all the air that was pushed from them. "This is Mike."

 He holds out a hand and smiles, but all your mother does is stare with round eyes and blurt, "Oh, he's a big boy." 

 "My fucking god." You don't yell or whine, just pinch the bridge of your nose and mumble, "Just shake his hand please." 

 "Sorry, I'm sorry, just was not expecting… You didn't tell me how tall he was."

 "'Cause it doesn't matter. Why would I—nevermind," you cut yourself off, face falling flat just like your voice. 

 Mike isn't sure if he should be flattered or offended or embarrassed, so he just ignores the comment entirely and says, "Nice to meet you." 

 You make your escape to the back, dragging Mike with you before shutting your bedroom door and leaning against it. 

 "Mom is a little weird, but you'll always know where you stand with her," you tell him. "Also, sorry about the house. She’s a teacher, so she’s usually pretty beat at the end of the day. Not enough energy to do a lotta cleaning."

 "Didn't even notice," he reassures you. 

 Mike unpacks his bag next to you, and you gather the dirty clothes from both yours and his, balling them up and taking them with you out to the garage to throw into the washing machine. Mike should have done it at his parents', but as you were packing up that morning, his mother got all teary eyed and his dad just kept shaking your tiny hands and telling you to come back, so it just didn’t happen. 

 Back in the living room, your mom is sitting in an old rocking chair, and Mike thinks you'll take a seat on the adjacent couch, but instead you ask, "You need help with anything? Dishes or vacuuming or somethin'?"

 She looks up at you, fly-away hairs sticking out around her temples and forehead and responds, "It'd be nice if you could do the dishes. I just haven't gotten around to it."

 "Can do," you nod and walk into the kitchen, opening the dishwasher and making a displeased noise at the dirty plates and bowls inside. There's room for a few more, but once it's full and running, you just clean what's left in the sink by hand. Mike finds a towel, stands next to you, and holds his hand out for every scrubbed dish, drying it and placing it in the rack to hopefully be put up later. 

 "You hungry?" You ask when you're done and drying your hands. "It's almost one."

 "Uh, yeah. I could eat." 

 Truthfully, he's starving having only had a small breakfast at his parents'. He doesn't want to say that, though, doesn't want you making a big meal for him or apologizing for anything. 

 "Sandwiches okay?" 

 Something in your tone has him on edge. Your voice is too quiet, deflecting downward as if you're forcing each word from your mouth. 

 "Yeah," he nods. "If you get the stuff, I can make 'em." Mostly so that you can relax but also because there's no way he's gonna let you make him a fucking sandwich. 

 You shrug your shoulders, grab bread, lunchmeat, cheese, and condiments, then say, "You can make ours. I'll make mom's."

 He knows he's missing something, but he doesn't know what, and right now he's too afraid to ask. 

 He eats next to you on the couch, you and your mom watching TV as Mike tries to subtly glance around. Mounted shelves are decorated with dusty, mismatched figurines, cracks opening at the corners where the walls meet the roof. The brick fireplace is stacked high with plastic tubs and books, probably from your mother’s classroom, and the carpet has seen better days. 

 Mike isn't judging—not in the least—but he has a feeling he knows why being here puts you in a sour mood. The house feels lived in, cluttered and cozy and worn around the edges, but it's still empty somehow. 

 After the three of you are finished eating, you take the paper plates and dispose of them, then tell your mom that you'll be in your room. She gives you a soft smile that you struggle to return.

 It's a little more you in the bedroom, blue walls covered in old posters and collages, a quilt similar to the one in your dorm folded at the bottom of your bed. Your pillow cases are faded and covered in an old flower design that matches your sheets, and there's a small nightstand next to the headboard that's bare on top with wrinkled papers poking out of the bottom drawer. 

 "It's not much, but if you wanna snoop around like I always do, feel free." 

 Mike doesn't really want to, especially since you already seem so uncomfortable in what should be a safe space for you. The only thing he feels okay investigating is the old bookshelf next to your closet—mostly YA novels, some poetry books, an old set of The Lord of the Rings series, a textbook over rocks and minerals and another over volcanoes. Tucked away in the bottom shelf is a tiny booklet that looks like a photo album, and Mike has to fight the urge to pull it from its place and flip through the plastic pages. Anything to get to know you better. 

 You lay in bed, eyes locked on the ceiling, and Mike doesn't know what to do. There's a very small TV sitting on your dresser, an old DVD player next to it, so he figures he'll save both you and himself from talking by picking out a movie. 

 He fingers through them, not that there's a lot, just skims the spines until he pulls out a copy of Space Jam. You only glance at the screen when the intro starts, and Mike immediately zeroes in on the way your jaw sets and your brows furrow. 

 "I can pick something else," he tells you quietly. 

 You take a deep breath and shake your head. Slowly but surely your features begin to soften. 

 "'S'fine."

 "Are you sure?" 

 "Yeah. My, uh…" You swallow loud enough from Mike to hear, neck bobbing with the motion. "My dad and I used to watch it all the time."

 He doesn't know what to make of it or how to respond. In the months he's known you, Mike has never heard you mention your father a single time, and he's never asked in fear of what your response might be. 

 He moves your quilt to sit on the very edge of the bed, a little too tense as he heavily contemplates ignoring what you'd said and still switching movies. 

 "You can lay down, you know," you mumble. "I'm not gonna bite you."

 "You have before," he tries to act casual, but it comes out too stiffly.

 You laugh through your nose— "Suit yourself—" then get more comfortable on the mattress. 

 Michael Jordan gets pulled into a golf hole and the Loony Toons journey to retrieve his shoes from the real world. Mike is barely paying attention, more focused on the way your breathing evens out until it becomes slow and deep. 

 That's good. You could use a nap. 

 He watches you for a while, the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks and your lips part. You're all curled up on yourself, hands tucked under your chin, knees to your stomach, and Mike wants to slip behind you so badly, to pull you to his chest and lay with you until his heartbeat syncs with yours. 

 But first. 

 As carefully as he can, Mike stands from the bed and glides to the bookcase. He lowers himself in front of it, quickly finding what he's looking for and pulls it from the shelf. 

 It's a small little album, full of polaroids and old pictures cut in half. The first page sets the tone for the rest of the booklet, a photo of a very small you outside eating a popsicle next to a man that is most definitely your dad. You've got a similar facial structure as well as his coloring. Not to mention the expression he's wearing is one Mike has seen you make many times before. 

 The next picture is the two of you dressed up for an event. He's in a striped Polo and slacks while you're in a little checkered dress, a rose corsage on your tiny wrist. Some kind of father-daughter dance, Mike guesses. 

 Sitting on his lap at a fair, a chubby little boy a few years older than you standing close with a stuffed snake around his neck. A party where you're posed with an honestly frightening costume character. You in a bright, mesh jersey standing back to back with your dad, arms crossed, looking at the camera with your chins tilted upward. 

 They all look like good memories. The little boy in the fair picture appears several more times, and as he loses his baby fat, Mike sees the resemblance he shares with you and your father. It's too close to be a cousin—your eyes and mouths shaped the same—so he must be your brother. 

 Mike doesn't know how to feel about that because again, you've never uttered a word. As far as he knew, you were an only child, so why…

 He gets lost in the pages, watching you grow and pose mostly next to your dad. Smiles and laughs and silly faces with your tongues sticking out. Your mom is in some, brother in others, and then, you're in a cap and gown, grinning widely next to your dad who's beginning to gray at the temples. His own smile is barely there now, a ghost of what was seen in the previous photos. It's forced, it's sad, and it's the last picture in the book. 

 Mike's chest hurts. He wonders what happened, when exactly you'd lost him. Was it a quick goodbye, or had it been drawn out and painful? Had he been sick for a long time? He'd looked perfectly healthy in all the shots. Maybe a car accident that took both him and your brother…

 He flips to check for one last photo on the back of the page, but it's empty. However, tucked in a tiny, paper pocket is a folded up note that Mike stares at for a few solid minutes, debating the pros and cons of reading it. He knows he's already violated your privacy by looking through the album, and fuck, he's only been in your house for a couple hours at most—how has he already managed to tumble down such a humongous rabbit hole? 

 Your tiny snores reach his ears, and Mike gently pulls the note out, biting his lip as he unfolds it as quietly as possible. It's soft, like it's been read too many times, and the letters scribbled in all caps are beginning to fade, but the words are still legible. 

 It starts with your name, and then it's all apologies—sorry I can't stay, I have to leave, you don't understand how much this hurts me and so on. 

 Mike's eyebrows pull together the further he reads, blood pounding against the walls of his arteries, pulse picking up because he understands now.

 Your father wasn't in any sort of accident; he just left. 

 The letter ends with a gut-wrenching, You'll always be my little girl, and Mike nearly crumples the paper up to throw away. He resists somehow, simply folds it with shaky hands and slips it back into the pocket at the back of the album. 

 He's never been so mad at a stranger in his life. This must be it. This must be why you are—

 "Should've known you'd go straight for the photo album." 

 Your voice makes Mike's body jolt, his face heating as he turns to look at you with wide eyes. 

 "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—"

 You wave him off and prop yourself up on an elbow. "It's whatever."

 But, it's not. It's this huge part of you that still affects you to this day. Mike is no psychologist, but he has a pretty good feeling this is the main reason you hold everyone at arm's length. 

 "Why didn't you ever tell me?" 

 "What's there to tell?" 

 Sitting up fully, your gaze moves to the screen just in time to see Michael Jordan step off of the spaceship and onto the baseball field. I Believe I Can Fly is playing, and you're gritting your teeth. 

 "It's not anything that comes up in normal conversation anyway. I wasn't just gonna hit you with it outta nowhere. Also," you look back to Mike, eyes still sleepy, lips pulling downward in a frown. "I'm not the only one who hid stuff about my family."

 Mike sighs and quietly tells you, "That's different," as he closes the album and slides it back into the row of books. 

 "Is it, though? Is it really?" 

 "I..." 

 Mike shuts his mouth and actually thinks on it. He wasn't trying to lie to you about his home life or his heritage. He's only half Greek on his mom's side, after all, and he's only been to the country to visit family a couple of times—once when he was a child and once right before college. The culture is a little different over there, but it all seems so natural to him, especially after being raised to speak the language. 

 Honestly, he didn't ever tell you because he didn't think to, but Mike can understand the shock of walking into his childhood home and getting thrown through that loop. It must have been jarring for you. 

 It's a positive aspect of his life, though. It's not something that's damaged him or made him cold toward others. And, he hates describing you in such a way, but it's true.

 At least it makes sense now. 

 "I guess not," he shrugs. He's not about to fight you on it. 

 You stare at him for a while, waking up a bit more as you rub your eyes and stretch. 

 Then, you flop back down on your pillows. 

 "So. Any questions, Zacharias?" 

 He's surprised that you're asking, and though he doesn't want to twist the metaphorical knife in your gut, he still replies honestly: "Too many."

 A long exhale through your nose, and then you're patting the mattress next to you and grumbling, "Fine, I'll do my best, but you gotta come up here."

 "Why? You gonna need to cuddle afterward?" He can't help but tease. 

 "Fuckin' maybe, dude! We're about to get into my god damn trauma so—"

 Mike is up on his feet and flying toward the bed. He isn't about to sabotage the one fucking moment you're opening yourself up. 

 "Alright, what first?" You ask, trying to look bored, but Mike can clearly see that you're nervous. 

 "He left." 

 "Yeah."

 And then he gets the full story. 

 Your dad was pretty perfect during your younger years—a bit of a workaholic but still good. He took you to dances like the one you'd both dressed for in the photograph. You'd spend days at amusement parks where he'd carry you on his shoulders. He coached the basketball team you'd played on as a child.

 "Not saying he played favorites, but I was definitely closer to him than my brother was."

 The brother who developed a drug problem at fourteen, who was always either out with his little addict friends or at home where he would just scream at you and your mom. 

 "He went to rehab a couple times, but it didn't stick." 

 He left home at seventeen and hasn't gotten in touch with you or your parents since. 

 "I keep thinking one day we'll get a call from the police saying they found his wallet on a fucking corpse, but who knows. Maybe he got clean. Maybe he started a family somewhere else. He'd be twenty-five now."

 "Were you ever close with him?"

 You shrug. "We spent a lot of time together when we were really little, but even back then he was kinda a mean kid."

 It very quickly circles back to your father. Mike still doesn't feel like he has all the answers, so he asks through the skin of his lip, "Why'd he leave?"

 At this point, you've got your head in his lap as he sits against the wall. He smooths your hair back from your face every once in a while, something his mom used to do to him when he was very young that always soothed him. 

 He hopes it's having the same effect on you, thinks it might be considering you've had your eyes closed for a while now, humming now and then as you talk. 

 "Honestly, I don't really know. I don't think he and my mom were ever in love. Like, they just kinda settled for each other," you sigh. "They didn't have a lot in common. They had different upbringings. But, they didn't fight or anything—not in front of us. They were good at hiding the hard times from me and my brother. They just didn't… click."

 Mike bites his tongue, wonders if that was hard to watch or if you'd been too naive to notice. 

 Then, there's his second train of thought that's really just the voice in his head screaming, we click, though! You and I work! But he keeps it to himself. This isn't about you and him. 

 "I think maybe dad had, like, a 'stay together for the kids' mentality 'cause as soon as I graduated, he was fuckin' gone. And, I mean gone. We went to a graduation party the next weekend that lasted a few hours—just me and mom—and when we got back his truck wasn't in the driveway and his drawers were empty. He left that note you read on my desk."

 Mike breathes. Just breathes. He tries to make sense of it, how someone could just do that without a real reason. There hadn't been any explanation in the letter, only apologies. 

 "Have you seen him since?" 

 You open your eyes and reply, "Nope," popping the 'p'. "I don't know where he is, and he hasn't reached out. Mom made the drive to my grandma's—his mom—but she said she didn't know where he was either. Pretty sure she was covering for him, though. She was always kind of a bitch. You know, save for the whole paying for my college and all."

 Mike snorts at this, not that there's anything funny about the situation. It's just his first reaction. 

 You ignore it, moving on with an, "Anyway."

 "Anyway," he mimics. 

 "I don't know if you've noticed in the short time you've been here, but my mom is a little… off. Not super good at taking care of herself."

 "Is this why?" 

 "Clever boy," you show a bitter smile. "I didn't really understand since they weren't, like, in love or whatever, but… I think it was the betrayal more than anything. Like, it came outta nowhere, a big ol' slap in the face."

 "Plus, he left you behind," Mike adds, as if you don't already know. 

 Looking up at him, you raise your eyebrows and smirk. "And, now you know about my abandonment issues." The last part comes out in high-pitched, melodic syllables, a little song that would be funny if Mike didn't know it was a coping mechanism. It most definitely is, though. He can tell that you're the type to mask every issue with humor and sarcasm. It's how you've been dealing with him for the last several months. 

 "So, that's my story," you conclude on an exhale. "Now you know all my dirty secrets."

 "For some reason I don't think that's all of them," Mike pets your hair again. "But, probably the important ones."

 "Mm. I guess."

 The rest of the day is really just spent killing time. You cook an easy dinner that you refuse to let Mike help with, then sit in the den with your mom just like you did at lunch. A medical show is playing. Then a reality show. Then a game show. None of you say much of anything, and it's painfully awkward for Mike now that he knows what happened, but he can power through a few days of this if it makes you feel better. 

 Hours pass until you can retreat, and moonlight shines through your bedroom window, not that Mike needs it. He's memorized your body at this point, knows where to touch without even seeing. He makes sure to be gentle, to suckle and blow on your pebbled nipples as you card fingers through his hair and breathe faster and faster. 

 Leaving love bites down your chest and stomach, he sucks on your skin, gently grazing his teeth over every bruise. Mike wants you to see them all the next day—not a staked claim, just something you can't ignore when you look in the mirror, evidence of his feelings in every mark. 

 When you're finally nice and relaxed, he spreads your legs and licks into you, trying not to be too rough with his beard, but a few swipes of it over your clit leave you shaking in his grasp. You whisper his name, the common one that everyone knows him by, but then, rolling off your tongue like a prayer, you call him, "Miche," and he can't help the rumble that rises in his chest. 

 It should be strange. That's the name only his family uses, the one he was born with. He only simplified it so that kids in school wouldn't ask questions or make fun of him, and after that, it just sort of stuck. But, here and now, falling from your lips, it's so soft. So intimate. 

 You whimper when he sucks on your folds, making them swell, making them sensitive. And then, he's pushing his tongue inside of you and humming happily at the taste. His nose is bumping against your clit, and Christ, you even smell good to him—that ripe, tangy aroma that has Mike going a little crazy. He has to make sure he doesn't get too carried away. You can't make very much noise even with the rattling of the air conditioner, but as he slowly slides a finger into your pussy, he hears you moan around the fist you're holding to your mouth. 

 He stretches you just enough to get you ready, then he holds himself over you and pushes into your wet cunt. Your eyes are open, locked with Mike's as your brow raises and your jaw drops. It's erotic, something you've never done with him before. You typically either gaze somewhere other than his face or keep your eyes squeezed shut. 

 Tonight, though, you've been vulnerable and apparently want to stay that way for a little while longer. 

 He bends to catch you in a kiss, lips and tongues moving just as slowly as his hips, and when you reach to tug at Mike's hair, he pants into your mouth. 

 Those words are there again, stuck in his throat but slowly crawling upward until they're just there, pouring from his tongue, "I lo—"

 Until you cut him off with a sharp, "Don't."

 He makes a noise of frustration, wants to protest because he's so deep inside of you, and you're holding onto him like you want him—truly want him, but you mutter once more against his lips, "Don't say it, Miche."

 So, he doesn't. He bottles the confession up and keeps it locked away, hoping like hell that one day you'll let him tell you. 

 After you climax and coat his cock in slick and cream, he gives a few more thrusts and comes inside of you, filling you with himself and wondering why you're so willing to accept him in that way but not in any other. 

 He's hurting again, like he did at his parents' as you walked around like you belonged there. Except it's worse now. 

 If you don't want him to say it, that means you don't want to say it back. 

 He stays with you for a few more minutes before pulling out. You leave to clean up, and while you're gone, Mike sits on the edge of the bed, head in his hands as he tries to get it all out of his system, whispering it out loud to himself: 

 I love you. I love you, I love you.  

 You still let him hold you as you fall asleep, gripping his hand until you can't anymore, and as Mike drifts off behind you, he has one last thought—Just let me.

* There’s only three weeks left of the semester when you head back to campus, and you intend to make the most of every passing day. 

 You pay better attention in class. You study harder in the library to prepare for final exams. You go to a few more Pi Alpha Kappa parties, making sure not to burn yourself out. And, you let Mike fuck your brains out every few days. Sometimes it’s late at night after those parties. Sometimes you're too tired after the nights of drinking and end up just going to bed only to wake up in the morning and have slow, sleepy sex. Sometimes it’s in the middle of the afternoon when you both have breaks between classes.

 Neither of you bring up anything that happened over the break—meeting families, details about your childhoods, how much you learned about one another in general.

 Most importantly, neither of you address that first night at your mom’s, the way Mike had basically worshiped your body, how he’d come so close to uttering the three words you least want to hear. 

 Thinking about it still makes your chest tighten, your heart beat faster. Sometimes when you’re sharing his bed with him, back pressed to his chest, large arm slung over your waist, you think about why it is you’re so vehemently against it. The two of you already act like a couple most of the time. You walk with each other to class when you can. You stick to each other’s sides at parties. You fuck like rabbits and don’t care who knows about it. 

 And, though you’re hesitant to admit it even to yourself, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have feelings for him. Mike is your best friend at this point. He’s insanely hot. He’s goofy. He’s kind. Yeah, the frat boy persona he puts on around his friends is annoying, but you understand it a little better now. Plus, he always takes off the mask when he’s alone with you, giving both you and himself a break from it.

 You know your time with him is quickly coming to an end—for about two months, at least—and whenever you think too hard about it, it makes you pout and huff. You’re not looking forward to your summer classes without him, but he promises on several occasions that you can call him while he’s at his parents’ if you ever need help with the material.

 It’s impressive, the way he’s able to act like nothing happened. You know it must be troubling him, but it’s not like you can do anything to soothe him. If he was really upset with you, he would have stopped spending time with you, but he hasn’t. He just bottles it up, keeps smiling at you all crookedly, and keeps satisfying you in the bedroom (more than satisfying honestly. There’s really not a word to describe what he does).

 He’s back to getting along with everyone in the Pike house, everyone being Erwin. It’s a relief just because you don’t have to put up with the tension between them, but it’s also awkward. And, a little frightening. 

 The brothers have Smash Brothers tournaments and movie nights, a few date parties here and there, and it never fails that at some point during the evenings, you find your neck prickling as it always does when you feel someone staring at you. You always hope it’s Mike. Fuck, you wish it was him. But, when you glance up and around, it’s Erwin. Every time. His deep blue eyes are trained on you, the corner of his mouth twitching upward on one side. It doesn’t matter if he’s alone or if he’s got Maddie or some other girl sitting in his lap. He's fucking shameless, and it makes your stomach hurt.

 You keep your mouth shut for the sake of the friendship but also for the sake of Erwin’s pretty face. If he and Mike ever got into an actual fight, Erwin would probably be able to get a good few punches in, but you’re nearly positive Mike would end up destroying him in the long run. That could get him kicked out of school. That could get him thrown in jail. 

 Finals roll around, and you manage to pass all of them without issue, even getting grades above the class average. You feel fantastic, like your long term goals might actually be attainable. You have a long road ahead of you, but your GPA at the end of the year is more than enough to raise your confidence. 

 Mike asks you to come back to his house for the couple weeks between the end of the semester and the start of your summer courses, but you turn him down, too scared of what might happen while you’re there. Acting like a couple in front of his parents will only exacerbate his feelings as well as yours, and you’d like to avoid that as best you can. 

 Even now as you’re standing outside by the Jeep, he tries to persuade you one last time, almost pleading, “Are you sure you don’t wanna come?”

 “Miche, I’m sure,” you tell him, trying to stay stern, but it’s hard when his sea glass eyes light up at the sound of his real name. It’s a habit you’ve gotten into, a bad one considering how much he likes it. How much you like it. “I already told you I wanna spend the free time I have at mom’s. I need to check up on her and… Probably clean, honestly.”

 He lets out a little grunt of disappointment, then nods. “Yeah, I get it.”

 “You saw what she’s like,” you remind him. “Someone needs to drop in every once in a while to make sure she isn’t, like, wasting away or something.”

 “Makes sense. I’ll be bummed, though.”

 “Be bummed all you want,” you smile. “I’ll probably still bother you over break. A lot.”

 He sounds terribly sincere when he mumbles, “You never bother me.” It makes your stomach flip in the way you do not enjoy.

 Mike sighs, taking in one of those deep breaths that makes his broad chest rise then fall, calling attention to it and making you bite your bottom lip. 

 “Alright, I should get going,” he concedes, bending down to kiss you too deeply for simple friends with benefits. It doesn’t stop you from humming into his mouth and smiling against him. You hold him by the back of his neck as he pulls your body close to his, his voice muffled when he tells you mischievously, “Don’t forget to send pictures.”

 It makes you laugh, and you lean back to swipe your tongue over his lips so that he groans and chases after you. 

 “I promise I will. Perv.” The beating sun is nothing in comparison to the way your body heats at the thought. You’ve sent him nudes before, but the idea of him looking at them from hours away, fisting his cock as he admires your body through his phone… It makes seeing him off even harder.

 After a couple more softer kisses, Mike swings into the Wrangler and pulls out of the lot. You stand in his parking space and watch him until he’s out of sight, then walk back to your dorm, dragging your feet the whole way. 

 You only stay at your mom’s house for a week, and just like you predicted, you spend most of it cleaning. She thanks you the whole time but makes excuses in between. You just reassure her that you don’t mind even though you do. She really should see a therapist and sort out the depression she’s been stuck in for a few years now, but telling someone they need professional help is easier said than done. 

 Sleeping in your old bed is much harder this time around. You're all too aware of the weight that isn't behind you, and most nights you lay awake for at least a couple of hours trying to imagine it. 

 Like you’d promised, you send him a few pictures, some of them just lewd selfies with your tits pouring out of the cups of your bra, but others are of your naked body in the bathtub, sometimes a shot of you with your hand between your legs. It feels wrong to touch yourself in your childhood home, but it’s necessary, especially when Mike sends you a few pictures of his own—one with his torso on display, defined abs absolutely mouthwatering and the V of his hips suggestively leading into mesh shorts. Another is of him in the gray joggers he wears all the time, the ones that always show off his cock. 

 He’s so fucking hot it atually hurts, makes your pussy throb as you crave his touch. It’s an awful feeling honestly, but even worse than that is the way you miss him. You aren’t supposed to miss him. You’re just supposed to be friends who have sex. Nothing more than that.

 It's why you’re glad to go back to school. Your classes will distract you, keep you from thinking about him too much. The semester is shorter during the summer, so you have to work even harder than you do during fall and spring. You don’t really think it’ll be a problem since you’re trying to cram your brain full of anything other than Mike which is great motivation for studying. 

 Nothing is gonna get you off track, you tell yourself. Nothing will interfere with your studies. That’s the plan.

 Then, you meet Zeke Jaeger. 

* You're studying in the library. It seems like you spend most of your time here, nice and quiet and empty. The campus isn't nearly as busy in the summer as it is during the rest of the school year. No parties, no sporting events, just you alone with your books. 

 It's nice. Most of the time. A little boring but mostly nice. 

 Your eyes are getting tired, and when you check your phone, you realize why. It's almost eleven PM, meaning you've been studying for about six hours. You've had longer nights, usually spent on the phone getting quizzed on the information you're learning with a few breaks in between, but that wasn't the case tonight as Mike had to spend the day with family from out of town. 

 It's okay. You're supposed to be distancing yourself anyway. 

 Taking a deep breath, you pack up your books and slide your laptop into your bag, then stand and swing it over your shoulder. 

 The strap is too long. The bag swings too hard, and your heart sinks when you hear a little grunt followed by a, "Agh, hot!" 

 Turning with wide eyes, you immediately start apologizing, "I'm so sorry, oh my god, fuck, I'm so sorry!"

 A head of light blond hair looks up from the brown stain on his white t-shirt, icy blue eyes narrowed behind wire-rimmed glasses, but when he sees the mortification on your face, his own expression softens, and he chuckles. 

 "It's fine. You can calm down."

 You're still breathing heavily, guilt making your hands shake, but he really doesn't look angry. In fact, he's grinning now, eyebrows raised like he's amused. 

 The longer you stare at him, the more familiar he looks. You're pretty sure you've seen him before. Many times before, actually, and then it clicks that this guy is on the front page of the school website. You see him every fucking time you log in, looking much more stern than he does now. Baseball hat and jersey, mitt on one hand as he hides his other in it, and yeah, you know him. 

 "You're Zeke Jaeger."

 He makes a face, scrunching his nose up and squinting. "Yeeeeah, I guess I am."

 Best pitcher in the college league despite being a sophomore like you. He's beaten the records of some major league players. 

 You don't give a fuck about baseball, have never even been to any of the school's games, but you've been hearing about Zeke since the last season. You've learned to tune it out because, again, no shits given (and also you're much more partial to lacrosse now), but he's hard to ignore when he's staring you right in the face. 

 "Well, uh," you try to act casual. It's something you're pretty good at these days. "Cool."

 He snorts, picking his shirt off his chest to air it out like it'll help, then says, "I don't know your name, though."

 You run your tongue over your teeth, wondering why he cares, then introduce yourself. 

 "Oh, you're Zacharias' little girlfriend, aren't you?"

 Your stomach flips at the mention of him. 

 "We're not dating."

 Zeke cocks his head to the side. "No?"

 "No. Just friends."

 He hums but doesn't say anything, and your eyes are once again drawn to his chest as he fans over the stain. 

 "Okay, let me get you a new shirt or something," you try. 

 He laughs again. "I highly doubt you've got a men's shirt tucked in that bag of yours, sweetheart."

 "I—" you pout for a second, mumble, "Okay, yeah, fair point."

 "Another coffee, though," he muses out loud. "Wouldn't be the worst thing."

 You shoot him a finger gun and smack your lips. "On it. Where do you get coffee at eleven o'clock?"

 "I'll walk with you," he states more than offers. 

 Then, you're both leaving the library, leaving campus, and going to a little 24 hour cafe where you blow on lattes and cover the basics about each other—philosophy major, valedictorian of his high school class, playing baseball since age seven, etc. You should sleep. You should get ready for another long day of studying.  

 But it's hard to make good decisions when Zeke Jaeger is smirking at you from across the table like you're the most interesting thing he's ever seen. 

* Zeke gets your number that night. You're not exactly sure how, but he does. 

 Then he doesn’t text you for three days. It doesn’t bother you that much. You figure he has other things to focus on. He’s on campus to take a couple courses and practice for the upcoming season, so he’s probably just busy. If that night had just been a one-off, it’s fine with you. It was cool to talk to him, but your heart isn’t broken.

 These are all the thoughts and justifications running through your head when you’re in class on Tuesday and your phone lights up during the PowerPoint lecture. You glance down, expecting Mike or Hitch, but it’s an unknown number instead. Eyes flicking from the projection screen to your much tinier one, you slide to open the message and chew on your lip. 

 Hey, it’s Zeke. You have classes this afternoon?

 You do not. And, you are too quick to tell him that.

 He takes you to a little Mom and Pop restaurant, too far to walk so you end up riding in the black Bronco he drives, trying to convince yourself that it definitely does not make him any more attractive to you. Because you aren’t attracted to him in the first place. Right?

 You sit at a table for two eating paninis and fruit. Zeke asks how classes are going, you ask about practice, and as you talk, he gets that look in his eyes again, like you amuse him or interest him or something.

 It confuses you, and for a moment, you’re taken back to last fall at that first Pi Kappa Alpha party, the one you met Mike at when he tried to get you to shotgun a beer. God, he had been so obnoxious back then, always following you around and flirting and—

 “You listening, sweetheart?”

 Your eyes refocus on the man in front of you, his raised eyebrows and little smirk. “Looks like you’re a million miles away. Sorry if I’m boring you.”

 “No, no,” you try to defend. “I just zoned out for a second. Realized I, uh, got an answer wrong on the quiz I took today.”

 “That sucks,” he hums. “Anyway, I can stop talking about baseball.”

 “It’s okay. Just go over the last, like, ten seconds,” you say with a laugh, hoping your cheeks will stop burning sooner rather than later.

 Zeke chuckles and does just that, doesn’t seem irritated or put out. He tells you about how he has a new trainer this year to warm him up and make sure his throwing arm is in top shape. “I hope he’s as good as my last. Colt was always on it, knew exactly how hot to make the warm compresses and how cold to make the ice packs. Stuff like that. He learned my needs.”

 You both laugh, and if it was anyone else, you’d have an innuendo sliding off your tongue, but for some reason, you don’t think Zeke would want to hear it, like he’d be unimpressed with your vulgar humor. 

 Back at the college, he drives you to your dorm, explaining that he lives in the apartments on the other side of campus and wouldn’t want to make you walk that far. Then, as you slide out of the Bronco, he stops you with a smooth, “Hey,” that makes you look over your shoulder at him. “Make sure you save my number in your phone, okay? I’ll text you soon.”

 The way your stomach flips is worrisome, a feeling you’re only used to when you’re with…

 “Yeah, okay.”

 He grins widely and nods, then waits for you to get a good distance away from the car before driving off.

 No distractions, you’d said. It’ll be good for your focus, you’d said. 

 What a fucking joke. 

*

Mike has to help you with some homework that weekend. You can hear his smile through the phone, snort when he makes his little nerd jokes, then sigh when he gets to the actual subject and explains it to you without a problem. His brain is incredible, and when you think about it too hard, it makes you warm inside. 

 “You’re so fucking smart. Why don’t you let people know?”

 “Maybe I just want you to know,” he chuckles. “You think I wanna spend my days tutoring every idiot who needs help?”

 “Miche, did you just call me an idiot?”

 You hear another breathy laugh followed by a sigh. “I have many, many names for you, but ‘idiot’ isn’t one of them.”

 “Oh yeah?” You play. “And, what might those other names be?”

 He lists a few, all of them making your face flush and your body tingle, and before you know it, you’ve got your pants off and your fingers between your legs. You can hear Mike’s heavy breathing on the other end, the wet sound of his hand stroking his lubricated cock, and when you reach your climax, you moan out your usual, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, Miche.” 

 He tumbles down right behind you, panting and telling you in a voice of disbelief, “Jesus, it just keeps coming.” It makes the pulses of your orgasm even stronger, remembrance of all the times he’s painted you in white, and God, you are so ready for him to get back to the school.

 Then, there’s the voice in the back of your head that makes you think maybe it’s better that he’s gone for now, that he might not be too pleased that you’re spending time with another guy. But, it’s not like things with Zeke are going anywhere. You wouldn’t even call him a friend. You text on and off, have brunch or lunch or coffee depending on the time of day. 

 And, yeah, he calls you pet names, tells you that you look nice even when you’re just in leggings and a t-shirt, talks about his family and…

 Okay, it could potentially lead to something more, but it’s only been a week, and considering his golden boy status, he could have anyone he wants, so why would he even be interested in you in any way, shape, or form?

 Naturally, your thoughts circle back to Mike and the way he could have any girl on his arm, but he still chooses to spend time with you. To fuck you. To nearly confess his feelings to you. You have to wonder if you’re emitting some kind of scent or beacon, if there’s a sign hanging above your head with an arrow pointing down. Sports gods, come get a piece. 

 If only you’d never gone to that party. If you had just kept your head down like you had freshman year. Your life would be so much easier now.

 But now you’re in Zeke’s apartment listening to him rant about some philosopher you’ve never even heard of. He’s gesturing with his hands, flipping curling, blond bangs from his face, and whenever he pauses to think, he scratches his beard. He’s very fond of the white t-shirts and jeans get-up, sometimes switches it up and wears a button down under a sweater vest. Both looks are becoming of him no matter how much you try to deny it, but when he drops down onto the couch next to you and peers into your god damn soul with those piercing, blue eyes, you have to choke back a dreamy sigh.

 What is happening to you?

 “So, what do you think about it?” He asks, looking hopeful that you might have some insight on this matter.

 But, you simply laugh and shake your head. “Zeke,” you start. “I’m gonna be real honest with you here. I didn’t understand a fucking thing you just said.”

 You assume he’ll be disappointed, maybe tire of you since you can’t be as intellectually stimulating as he’d like you to, but Zeke exhales in a lighthearted sort of way, shows one of those amused smiles, and tells you, “You’re cute.”

 Anyone else and you would have snapped back, something along the lines of, don’t fucking patronize me, but with Zeke, all you can do is stare at him and let your lips part, silently asking for something you won’t speak out loud.

 His gaze moves to your mouth for a split second. That soft smile turns into one of his famous smirks. Then, he’s back on his feet and asking, “You wanna go to dinner?”

 You are more than relieved at the shift in atmosphere, but your heart is still beating too hard as you follow him downstairs and to his car. 

* Summer is passing quickly. Too quickly. The eleven week classes are kicking your ass, or are close to kicking your ass. Lucky for you, you have your own private tutor just a call or text away. Mike helps you, and you laugh and goof around, shoot off innuendo after innuendo, but the phone sex slows to a halt eventually. You tell him that you’re tired, and you are. It isn’t a lie. But, it also isn’t the full truth.

 Between classes when you could be resting, you’re eating out with Zeke. Or, watching him and the rest of the baseball team practice for the upcoming season. Or, sitting in his apartment, watching movies and chatting about all manner of things. Nothing important, of course—there’s no diving deep into your life story like you had done with Mike over Spring Break, but Zeke still learns the little things about you. Why you’re majoring in geosciences and how you became good friends with some of the Pike guys. You don’t give him the full details on that one—that you got blackout drunk and fucked Mike and just couldn’t stop. You don’t think Zeke would be interested in hearing about it anyway.

 You learn a bit about his dad and stepmom, the latter of whom he isn’t very fond of. He also has a little brother who’ll be attending the college starting this fall, and he’s interested in the Greek life. Naturally, you build PKA up. Even if there are some… Problematic people in the house, there are also a lot of really good guys. 

 “I’ll make sure to pass it along to him,” Zeke tells you one evening as you’re both sprawled on the couch, backs against the armrests as you face each other. It’s how he seems to prefer to sit when the TV isn’t on. When you asked him why, he had told you, “Just like looking at you,” and you didn’t know how to respond. You still don’t know how to respond.

 “Eren thinkin’ about joining any sports?” You ask now. “Does baseball run in the family or anything?”

 Zeke snorts. “Kid couldn’t hit a baseball even if it was on one of the t-ball stands.”

 “I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then.”

 “I would say he’s more academically inclined, but,” Zeke sighs. “That would be a lie.”

 You can never tell if he actually likes his brother. Most of the time he complains about him, but every once in a while he’ll bring up something cute Eren did as a little boy, and you see a fond glimmer in his light eyes. 

 “Anyway,” Zeke waves off the subject and transitions to a new one—one that makes your stomach drop. “Are you gonna tell Zacharias about us?”

 You choke on your own spit, leaning forward to cough a couple times, then challenge him with a nervous laugh, “I wasn’t aware there was anything to tell him.”

 Zeke tilts his head, mouth pulling up as he raises his eyebrows. “Come on,” he chuckles.

 “Come on, what?” You frown. If you were with Mike, you both would have died at that. Come on my face, you can hear him say, and you have to fight a smile because there’s absolutely no way you could explain that to the man in front of you.

 “You don’t have to play coy, sweetheart. We both know there’s something going on between us.” He says it with such confidence that even if he wasn’t right you wouldn’t be able to argue with him. The assumption should annoy you, should make you scoff and leave, but instead you sit there staring, caught up in his gaze and cocky grin.

 “I—”

 “It’s okay, you know. Not like you’re alone in this.”

 Those questions swim through your mind again, all the insecurities that you’ve been sorting through with Mike, but now that voice is louder because that sense of trust hasn’t formed yet. You’ve only connected with Zeke over meals and movies. It sounds domestic, but despite your apparently obvious attraction to him, you still don’t feel like you really know him. 

 But, he draws you in, like a moth to a flame. You can’t help it. There’s just something about him that makes you want him to like you, like you want to impress him, like you want to be good for him. You’ve been trying to ignore those thoughts, but they’re much harder to fight now that you’re sitting in front of him, taking in his wavy hair and pale blue eyes, that ever present smirk on his face, the curve of his neck that disappears into his shirt.

 He could just want sex. He could just want a fling. Wait for everyone to get back on campus and drop you for another girl. You tell yourself you wouldn’t care; you’re good at keeping things casual.

 Wouldn’t it be fun to be his arm candy for a while, though? Let people look at you and whisper louder than they did when they’d see you and Mike together? You don’t care about status, about being in the spotlight. It’s more for the experience, dating someone who could teach you things.

 Mike teaches you things, that voice pops up again. He’s been helping you with your work for almost a year now. You can’t just overlook that. 

 “What, are you weighing the pros and cons over there or something?”

 You snort. “Maybe. We still don’t really know each other all that well, Zeke.”

 “Might I remind you that we’ve been hanging out all summer? Did you honestly think it wouldn’t lead to anything more?”

 “Honestly,” you mimic, “I never thought you’d be interested.”

 “Why wouldn’t I be?” His brow furrows like he’s genuinely confused. “You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re cute.” 

 God, you can’t even count how many times he’s called you ‘cute’, how many times it’s made you blush over the last several weeks, just like it does now.

 Then, he pushes, “Do you not find me at—”

 “Of course I do,” you cut him off. “I don’t know who doesn’t, which is exactly why I don’t know where this is coming from.”

 Zeke sighs like he’s annoyed, then turns the hand on his thigh palm up and beckons you with two fingers. “Come here.”

 “What?”

 “Come here.”

 Your blood pressure spikes, breaths coming in little puffs that have no way of getting to your brain. It’s probably why you obey, rolling to your knees and clumsily crawling over to him. You stop short, right between his bent knees, but Zeke sits up, straightens his legs, and pulls you into his lap.

 More of that precious air leaves your lungs as you exhale too sharply, staring at him with huge eyes. You don’t know what’s happening, can’t believe it’s happening. It doesn’t feel real even as you rest your hands on his shoulders, even when he holds your hips and pulls you so that your full weight is on him, but fuck, you can’t say anything. You can’t make a sound. All you can do is wait for him to make his next move.

 “Why do you look scared?” His voice is just above a whisper, but at this proximity you can hear him without a problem. 

 “I don’t have a lot of experience sitting in men’s laps,” you manage, trying to keep your usual careless tone, but you doubt it works.

 “For some reason I don’t believe that.”

 You rear back, actually offended. “Excuse m—”

 That ire, however, melts away as quickly as it arose. Zeke slides fingers up your waist, all the way to the back of your neck to bring your face to his—your lips to his. 

 He feels different, not at all what you’re used to. His kiss is more demanding, hungry, and God, you still can’t breathe, can’t think straight because his tongue is moving past your lips, and you’re letting it, letting him taste you as your fingertips dig into the flesh of his shoulders. You lift yourself from him just a little only for Zeke to pull you back down with the hand still gripping your hip. He makes sure you feel him when he grinds up into you, the zipper of his jeans rubbing you through your little shorts so that you gasp into his mouth. 

 You both stay like that for what feels like a fucking eternity, biting and sucking on lips, stroking over each others’ tongues until you absolutely have to break apart. You’re panting now, body still tense on top of his, and Zeke stares at you with half-lidded eyes and shows the ghost of a smile.

 “Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

 The statement sets you on fire, so much so that all you can do is whimper quietly and lean in for more. 

  And, as you get lost in Zeke Jaeger, you decide for yourself.

I need to tell Mike

[ next ]

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic #aot fanfiction #mels prima vista

[babylooneytoonz]

the Vessel [ Pt. 14 ]

— pairing: Geralt of Rivia x reader

— summary: You, Geralt and Jaskier are on the road again, and something is on the Witcher's mind. How would you react to it?

— warnings: a lot of fluff🥺

*Please reblog if you like it, do not repost or claim my work as yours.

[My Masterlist] [My Witcher Masterlist - Read the other parts here!]

"I'm still here, you know?" Jaskier deadpanned, kicking a stone that came his way, cradling his long lost lute like a baby.

You chuckled at his words and sunk back into your lover's arms, who was seated on the mare behind you, your head now resting against his sturdy chest as you looked up at him and he looked down at you, smirking slightly.

"Come on Geralt, Jaskier's jealous. He thinks you've stopped focusing on him now that I'm here," you giggled playfully as Geralt shook his head, amused and craned his neck slightly, giving your earlobe a bite.

"Well, I'm not jealous, but I definitely feel like a third wheel, and in dire need of an inn—"

"Or a brothel," you added, and Geralt hummed in agreement with you, his thick, veiny arms locking around your now wide girth making you feel ticklish and squirm, "On a serious note, Geralt. Can we stop? I really need to take a piss. And a bath."

"Gosh, [Y/N]." Jaskier pretended to cover his ears dramatically, "You're the Princess of Cintra!"

"So?" You scowled, taking your foot out of the saddle and jutting out your leg so you could kick your friend's bottom but he dodged it, "Do princesses not take a piss? Besides, I am not a Princess anymore."

"What?" Geralt and Jaskier said out loud, together. And you nodded. Whelp. In all the drama, you had forgotten to actually tell them why you had run away. Or that— you had run away.

"Well, I sort of left it?" You drawled, absentmindedly and Geralt nudged you slightly, looking down at you, concerned.

"Why?" He raised a brow.

"Well, it seems that not only did the Witcher had some things to hide," Jaskier began, and you glared at him, "by the looks of it, you have something to tell us [Y/N]?"

You scowled, running your hand sheepishly through your hair and began clearing your throat, when Jaskier interrupted, "Don't tell me Queen Calanthe decided to name your baby Podrick."

You gave him a look of disbelief at first; but couldn't keep a straight face, as you bursted out laughing.

"What's wrong with the name Podrick for a boy?" You asked, wiggling your brows at him, and Geralt shook his head, faintly, silently amused.

"Well, Princess [Y/N], if you have a boy, you are naming him after me. Jaskier, obviously?" He smiled at you, wiggling his brows in retaliation.

"Or maybe, Dandelion?" You began, and both Jaskier and Geralt muttered, "No." At the same time.

"I won't have my son named after a flower, for fucks sake," he grumbled under his breath, and you pouted, pushing out your lower lip as you felt Geralt's palm ghost over your belly, protectively securing his palm over the bulge of it and you smiled.

"What happened in Cintra?" Geralt suddenly asked, manouvring the conversation back to where it had started from, and you looked down at your hands, rubbing them against the fabric of your dress.

"Mother wanted me to marry Foltest."

Upon hearing your words, the Witcher stiffened, his hand slowly pulling away. Suddenly, he tugged at Roach's reins so hard, the poor mare stopped."Ouch," you cursed under your breath, and then tried to pacify the sudden uncomfortable silence between the three of you by making small talk, "What?"

"I'm sorry but your mother wanted you to marry that sister fucker? Isn't that right Geralt?" Jaskier nudged your foot that was in the saddle and you sighed, your shoulders tensing slightly. Geralt was morosely quiet, and although he was a man of few words, you felt like this revelation was going to stop the progress that he was making with you.

"She thought that's the only way to protect me. And this baby. Because a lot of enemies will want to get their hands on me. Although, it's stupid, right? I mean, I have Geralt to take care of me," you muttered absentmindedly, staring at the flock of birds that flew past your mare.

It was only when Geralt cleared his throat, a little to coursely, that you craned your neck slightly towards him and noticed how his jaw had clenched, and he was fisting the reins in his grip.

"Shall we move on? We should reach a village in an hour or two. We can see if an inn can accomodate us," he bluntly added, and you blinked, looking down at Jaskier and giving him a questioning look.

Lucky for the three of you, the three of you reached a nearby village sooner than you had expected. By that time, you were exhausted; your body sore at all the odd spots that you couldn't even put a name to or say it out loud. Geralt helped you get off Roach, his movements being tender, but he did not even once, try to talk to you.

The three of you entered the tavern, Jaskier leading the way in while you waddled through in the middle, as much as your bump allowed you to move. Geralt was in the extreme end, and you couldn't see much of him, or hear from him, except for a few occasional grunts you received.

Geralt got the three of you the last of the two rooms that were available and Jaskier disappeared into the first one, leaving you and Geralt to settle down in your own shared room.

You sat down by the edge of the bed, the bed creaking when you put your weight on it. Geralt placed his sword by the chair, before his hands came to rest against the fabric of his shirt and he started prying it off.

"Are you going to say something?" You finally asked, pulling both your hands together and rubbing them as though you were cold, "You've been sulking ever since I told you about what happened in Cintra."

Geralt grunted under his breath, and instead of replying to you, he moved past you to where a metal bathing tub, big enough to fit in the two of you, had already been set out, the water warm, and steam arising out of it. Geralt lowered his slacks, letting it fall to the floor as he stepped out of it, practically ignoring you. You could hear the sound of him wading into the water.

Sighing to yourself, you slowly lifted yourself off the edge of the bed, and turned to face the witcher, who was now seated against the tub, his arms holding the sides of the tub as he looked at you. Slowly, you let your tunic drop to the floor as you stepped out of it. It would have been a lie to say that you felt sexy, especially with your baloon belly that didn't let you look down at your feet. But you really needed that warm bath, to cure the soreness you were feeling.

Geralt threw out his palm towards you when he saw you step into the bathtub and you were thankful for it. He helped you get in and finally, you settled yourself in between the Witcher's legs, letting the back of your head rest against his sturdy chest, feeling the rise and the fall of it, "You're angry with me."

"Not with you. I'm just angry in general," Geralt retorted, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes at him.

"I'm not marrying Foltest. You should know that. Not after all that happened between us." You stared at the ceiling, while Geralt scooped some water into his palms and poured them on top of your head, trying to give you a head bath.

"When you said that, it got me thinking," Geralt suddenly began, as his fingers began to lather against your wet hair, his fingers rubbing through your scalp, making all the tension and the knots in your body melt away, but what words followed afterwards, only made the tension once again spiral back, "What happens once you give birth? Will you and the baby travel and be on the roads with a fucking Witcher? Who cannot settle in one place?"

"Geralt, where is all this coming from?" You turned to face him, letting your legs slide behind his body, with your baby bump now between you and his body forming a shield around it.

"Just got me thinking.. what kind of a life am I gonna be able to give you?"

Your fingers were now drawing intrinsic patterns over his chest, but your eyes were looking into his, trying to reach out to the man that hid beneath the facade of a cold, unemotional Witcher, "I don't care Geralt, all I know is that I want you."

"I want you too but I am thinking of your future." He said, stroking the side of your face with his wet thumb.

"I don't care if our love's forbidden, all I care about is that I want to be with you, I want us to raise our baby together," you slowly dropped your hand into the water, your hand finding his as you clasped your fingers with his and pulled out his hand. You brought it up to your baby bump, placing your hand tenderly over his. Geralt's breathing hitched, his huge palm draped protectively over your unborn baby and you smiled at him.

"I'm scared I will disappoint you. We Witchers weren't exactly meant to be domestic," He brought your palm up to his lips and planted a warm, chaste kiss on the inside of your palm, "I'm going to disappoint you and our baby. And you're going to hate me for the life I couldn't give you."

"No you won't. You underestimate yourself. You might be intimidating and cold on the exterior Geralt, but you—" Your smile widened, and Geralt popped his brow up, waiting for you to continue, "You are one big softie secretly."

"No, I'm not," he said, sounding fake serious.

"Oh yes, you are. You're a big bear," you playfully pulled your hand away from his, and splashed him with water. His eyes widened when the splash hit him, his lips pursing together.

"Geralt, I — I'm sorry."

"Oh, no love. This is war."

Geralt used his two hands to scoop as much water as he could and splashed you back and you let out a playful screech, "Geralt!"

"What? You called it. Come on now."

Geralt towered over the bathtub, the towel wrapped securely around his waist, covering his manhood, droplets of water rolling down his chest and his calves. He threw out a palm towards you and you whined; the water was too soothing for your exhausted body and you didn't want to get out. But there was no standing against the White Wolf. He slowly helped you up, making you stand, and carefully holding you by your waist so you didn't slip, as the pads of your feet were wet; he waited patiently for you to step out.

"Worried I'll catch a cold? I'm stronger that that." You drawled as you placed your hand into his.

Once you were out, he slowly turned you towards him to face him and wrapped a towel around your frame, using it to tap dry you all over.

"You pamper me, love," you smiled, letting your palm rest against your chest as he now worked to dry your hair.

"This is nothing compared to the happiness you are gifting me with."

You gave him a weak smile as you sat down by the edge of the bed, and slid into your comfortable slip, pulling it over your face and your neck, letting your eyes shut. After a few seconds, you opened your eyes, only to find the Witcher kneeling down between your legs, his eyes on your belly.

"You would never have been possible if it wasn't for your mother," Geralt whispered to your stomach in a tender way, momentarily glancing up into your eyes.

"Mhm, don't listen to the crap this man is feeding you with, Podrick."

"Not with that name again, [Y/N]." Geralt grumbled under his breath, but you could see a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. He let his forehead rest against your bump as he fluttered his eyes shut and inhaled your sweet fragrance, his hands holding you from your hips, "Besides, I have a feeling it's going to be a little girl, with eyes like her mother. She is going to take over on you. Not that I would have it any other way."

"Oh, Witcher, my Witcher ," You pulled him up to sit next to you as you leaned in to kiss him, and he slowly arched forward, his lips melting into yours as he mumbled between the kiss, "You might be a future Queen of Cintra, but you are my queen this day forward."

When you pulled apart, licking your lips, tasting the aftermath of Geralt's lips on you, you suddenly grabbed his wrists, and smiled cheekily, "let me do your braids, love."

"Go to sleep," he grumbled, moving away but you caught his hand again, giving him a sad pout, "Please?"

"Fine," he grumbled as he sat down on the floor in front of you, his back turned towards you, his elbows resting on his knees as he turned his gaze to the side, instead of turning to face you completely, "only this once." He turned back around, a small smile playing on his lips. Who was he kidding, he wanted you to braid his hair every single day. He fluttered his eyes shut, letting out an exhale as your fingers dug through his scalp, pulling his hair back.

Geralt woke up rather abruptly.

He sat up in bed, squirming slightly but when he turned towards you, sleeping peacefully on your side, your arm protectively draped over your beautiful bump, his heart swelled twice the size it was. You looked so innocent, so pure and you were his.

Gently, he pried the covers off, sliding his feet to the edge until the pads of his feet were resting against the cold ground. He stood up, and grabbed his discarded clothes that were strewn all over the floor, sliding into his slacks before he pulled his crumpled tunic over his head.

He turned to look at your sleeping form once before he slowly walked out of the bedroom, ensuring to let the door close as quietly as possible.

He dragged himself downstairs. He was starving after the night, but all he needed was a pitcher of ale to set him up. The tavern was empty, except for one or two men who did not have a steady job, so they had found themselves drinking at the tavern. The usual rush came in the evening.

Holding his pitcher in his left hand, he made his way to a table in the back, that overlooked the window. He sat down, huddling in a corner, bringing the pitcher up to his lips, when someone slammed himself in the chair in front of him.

"Rough night?"

"Speak for yourself, Jaskier, " Geralt smirked, as he brought the pitcher to his lips, eyeing him.

"Why on earth do you think I am hiding in a corner like this?" Jaskier blinked, wiggling his brows.

"Jaskier, don't drag me into the messes you create," Geralt hummed, taking a sip of the ale.

"You look different. You have a glow. Now I am curious. Did [Y/N] give you a beauty treatment?" He said smugly, letting his elbows rest against the table as he grabbed a piece of meat and tossed it into his mouth.

When Geralt didn't reply, Jaskier arched his body even more forward, leaning almost close to Geralt and Geralt scowled.

"I see you let her braid your hair."

"Fuck off," Geralt murmured, tight-lipped. He would have said more, but something in the back caught his attention, and his jaw dropped. Jaskier, following Geralt's gaze, slowly turned towards the direction where Geralt was looking at and that's when he saw what he was staring at— it was you.

You were standing by the counter, in a long, flowy dress, a beautiful white flower fixed to your hair, talking to the owner of the tavern. You slowly looked up from whatever you were talking to the owner about, and as though you had felt his eyes on him, you looked right at Geralt, the corners of your lips tugging into a warm smile. Jaskier looked from you back to Geralt, noting the smile that had formed on his friend's lips as you made your way towards him.

"Morning, husband. What do we have in here for breakfast? Your baby is starving," you gave Jaskier a wink, and Jaskier's jaw dropped, as he spat out the ale that he was drinking, splashing it all over the table, coughing and hitting his chest as though something was lodged into his throat.

You and Geralt looked at each other, and Geralt sat back, patting on his thigh as you sat doen on his lap, and Geralt locked his arm around you. "What did you say?" Jaskier asked, standing up, his hands on his hips, "HUSBAND?! You're married now? What happened in that bedroom last night?"

"Words, words, words and confessions?" Geralt's arm held you steady on his lap and you turned towards him, your nose touching his as you bit your lip, "Well, the Butcher of Blaviken declared he wanted to live his action packed life with me."

Geralt grumbled under his breath; and you kissed the tip of his nose, biting it teasingly, "Now husband? Where's the food?"

Geralt smacked your thigh playfully, and you immediately stood up, before Geralt was up too, "On it, woman."

A/N: okay for those who are wondering if they missed a chapter in between, wherein they got married then no you did not. I didn't write their wedding descriptively. They got married at the inn during the night, which I chose not to write because I had no freaking idea how to😂

The Vessel Taglist:

@kawennote09 @viking-raider @raspberrydreamclouds @pterodactylterrace @singeramg @historianwithaheart @miss-emilia-cavill @ayamenimthiriel @crazynocturnalkiki @xxxkatxo @coffeebreathy @fanaticnae @kmuir1 @little-jana @pineapplemama @auds24 @sassy-pelican @bitchynicole @cavillsim @ragamuffin285 @hista-girl @oliviali0930 @introvertedmouse @madbaddic7ed @libbymouse @nerra75 @maxineswritingcenter @superawesomegeek @waifu4lifeu @funalpaca @petitefirecracker10 @marantha @vikingsbifrost @petitefirecracker10 @jessyballet @strrynigxts @rn7rocks @theroyalbrownbarbie @amirra88 @naughty-koala07 @xuxszx

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#geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt of rivia works #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia #the witcher x you #the witcher x y/n #the witcher x reader #the witcher #henry cavill #sherlock henry cavill x reader

[maybe-your-left]

THOUGHT ABOUT IT, needs to happen.

Professor Ren x Professor Reader ONESHOT

“Good morning Professor (Y/N),” your students called out, filing into their seats. Today you had them set up in a half circle. All of them on some big pillows, with their canvases at their feet. It was all about getting to feel the inspiration flow through you this morning.

You smiled from the floor, brushing back your hair to tie into a loose bun. Some paint from your hand smeared on your cheek but that’s okay, it’s art! Art can be anything and anywhere!

“Good morning everyone! There’s coffee and fresh tea in the back! I had my husband go grab some from your favorite shop so we could all relax this morning!”

One of your students yawned, “Thank you professors husband.”

“Oh it was no trouble,” you mused, “It was he and I’s coffee date this morning, we were already there and I thought of all of you.”

Once everyone was settled you told them the plan for the day. Working to connect with the early morning spirits, their souls, how they were feeling today and using the colors to express that. No brushes, no pencils, just the hand to create.

“Oh,” a student piped up, “Professor how was your weekend? Wasn’t it your anniversary?”

You smiled, letting out a sigh as you thought about your wonderful husband. He was so loving, caring, gentle, understanding.... and tall.

“It was fantastic,” you squealed, “We spent the weekend cleaning out the outdoor patio, I used to horde all my art supplies in there. And Ben set it up to be a nice seating area, so many colors and plants and flowers.”

“What did you do for your anniversary?”

You dropped the canvas, thinking intently on what you actually did for your celebration, you knew your students loved to hear about your life. As the textbook oversharing professor, they were thrilled to hear about how eccentric your partner was, calling you ‘true love’ in the purest sense.

“Well, we had a wedding for our cat, you all remember Finn.”

Everyone nodded, “He met some other cat down the street, a stray, and we named him Poe. They had a lovely wedding, both of us cried. Ben loves his cat so much, it was tough for him to realize he had grown up...”

You dabbed at the corner of your eye, wiping away a stray tear from the memories. Ben had Finn before he met you, such a sweet kitty. He loved his cat, which was strange for a man who was so distant at first, but you understood the bond. And now he was all grown up, with a husband!

“What did you guys do though,” they asked once more, “Since it was your 10th anniversary.”

“Oh,” you rolled your eyes, “Ben does things for me all the time, he doesn’t have to ham it up for one day. We spent the morning doing our couples yoga, al-fresco as nature intended, had some nice quiche that I made the evening before.”

“After that, you all remember the bathroom Ben redid for me, the one with the claw foot tub and the living eucalyptus plants lining the windows, we took a wonderful bath together. I don’t want to go into any intimate details, but yoga really makes that man,” you shivered, “Limber.”

Your class laughed, “Professor, you’ve told us stuff about your husband that’s way worse.”

“True.”

“Anyway, after our morning rounds, we went for a walk outside. Our dog Chewie needed some exercise and we both felt like walking the hills behind the house. It was very beautiful. I think I have pictures...”

You moved to get up, wiping the excess paint from your hand on your apron. Scrambling behind your desk for your bag, practically dumping out the contents to find your phone. You frowned when you couldn’t find it, instead finding your husbands phone, “I’m sorry class, I guess I don’t have it today...”

“Oh well, moving on. After that we had a nice dinner downtown, some dancing. My Ben can be quite the romantic when it comes to that, hes an excellent dancer aside from his ginormous feet. And once we got home,” you winked, “Let’s just say we didn’t rest for too long.”

Everyone laughed, congratulating you on your anniversary. How wonderful your life was, how much they love hearing about you and Ben. They so desperately wanted to meet him... but that wouldn’t happen.

Unfortunately, Ben was another professor at the university. In a completely different department, under the English Literature studies branch. Teaching the effects and influences mid century writers have on society today, he was a mean and strict man. Didn’t enjoy loud noises, food, drinks, or phones in his class. He also didn’t go by Ben for his professional name, he went by Kylo Ren. No one knew he was your husband, the same one who helped you rescue a baby bird, or the one who crushes you at chess, or the one who sings while showering, and sleeps with a teddy bear when you’re away.

It would be devastating to his reputation if he knew how much you shared of your personal lives.

However... he did marry you.

Fully knowing how loud mouthed you were, so sharing and compassionate with your students. Even calling them by their first names when he likes to seperate them from himself by using their last names. He doesn’t share anything with them, they barely know that he’s married. All they know is that Professor Ren is mean, and probably eats babies for breakfast.

You moved back to your seat, waving your hand for everyone to focus back on their paintings. Things were getting a little out of control and you did want them to finish these before class was over.

After about ten minutes of quiet murmuring, the door to your room flew open.

“Lovely,” your husband burst in, “I think we swapped phones this morning, yours kept playing that ridiculous shark song whenever someone messaged you.”

“Professor Ren?”

He stopped at your desk, scanning your classroom for the face that had recognized him. You repeated the action, zeroing in on one of your students.

“Good morning Miss Johnson,” Ben cleared his throat, his face dropping into a stone frown. “I was unaware you were in art courses.”

“Um,” she cleared her throat, looking as uncomfortable as you felt, “I’m double majoring.”

“Oh.”

Ben swiftly swapped phones from behind your desk, moving towards you. Cringing at all the paint on the floors and how messy everyone was. He squatted down next to you, his shiny black oxfords creasing slightly. Dressed from head to toe in a black suit, looking the complete opposite from you. His harsh, pale face frowning at all your students. The scar that slashed across his cheek red from his embarrassment, he finally looked at you. “I’ll see you for lunch my love.”

He kissed your lips, quickly standing as if to reverse the action. Over his shoulder he yelled at your mutual student, “Not a peep Miss Johnson, not a peep!”

After he slammed the door shut everyone’s gaze fell to you. Eyes wide and mouths popped open in awe, how was that supposed to be the same man you had told them about?

“Professor?” Rey piped up.

“Yes,” you cleared your throat, “Yes sweetie?”

“Professor Ren, the one who made that girl cry in front of the entire class, is your Ben?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh,” she swallowed, “Professor?”

“Yes?”

“I think I’m switching majors.”

———

HAHAHHAA yes. Gotta love a hard ass in the streets and a big lover in the sheets.

i ❤️ kylo ren

TAGGING: @finn-ray-nal-beads​ @onlykyloscenes​ @candycanes19​ @desiraypark​ @historyandfandoms50​ @caelum-phyriina-vermillon​ @ghoulian13​ @mrs-kylo-ren​ @millenialcatlady​ @emeraldsiren20​ @dancingmicrobes​ @relationshipwithmybed​ @wayward-rose​ @safarigirlsp​ @contesa-lui-alucard​ @daydreamsofren​ @caillea​ @insufferablelust​ @ohdamnadamm​ @mariesackler​ @jalexunderthestars​ @shesakillerkween​ @glassythoughts @zimmermansbrat @not-the-teen-witch

#adam driver #kylo ren #adamdriver #kylo trash #modern kylo ren #ben solo #professor AU #we are both teachers

[welcome-to-the-smith-family]

The boys are readied....

... including the beloved apple jug used to water them.

Spent the day embracing the first signs of spring, namely by starting my seeds for this year’s garden.

We’ve got a mix of commercial seeds and ones I collected from previous years’ plants.

Heirloom cherry tomatoes- Originally fermented from tomatoes I got at the farmer’s market, but this year the seeds are the ones I grew from those seeds in 2021. One bunch in particular started to take the shape of your typical “beef stake” tomato, but still cherry tomato sized. So I thought that’d be cool to see if I can replicate it and call them “mini moos.” 

“Pirate” onion- some sort of Allium I swiped from a dead seed head in the community garden this winter. I figured if no one’s gonna use any of the dozens of seed heads there, why not, uh, “pirate” it and try it out. (Took only one, though.) Have no idea what this really is, but I’m just gonna try and grow it for fun.

Black n Blue Pansy- A feeble attempt using the seeds from this particularly stunning group of pansies that accidentally started growing in the grass next to my other multicolor array of potted pansies:

Morning Glories and Moon flowers- I like to use these as a divider from my neighbor’s balcony. I’ve done them one at a time each year, but this year I want to try growing them together in efforts to have a 24 hour bloom. But uh, I’m thinking the moon flower leaves and flowers will dwarf the morning glories.

Carrots- are a good partner apparently with tomatoes. Since I’m using a 5 gallon storage tub modified into planters, I’m hoping this will help create a good soil ecosystem for the two.

Chamomile- For funsies and the romanticism.

Sugar Snap Peas- My favorite. Acts as a vine in place of the morning glories early in the season, and seeing the white little flowers coming in thrills my heart to no end. Also delicious. 

Zucchini- Because each year, I never learn.

(Not pictured at top) Bibb Lettuce and Mesclun Mix- In another larger pot I just threw a whole bunch of lettuce seed mix for fun. I typically don’t grow any more kale or lettuce outside because the cabbage whites absolutely decimate my modest balcony planters. However, it was neat that one year to have my balcony riddled with chrysalises- including a few that somehow got into my home. I had butterflies chilling and drying out their wings in my room. 

I still need to buy some plants eventually for the rest of the balcony, including calamint to bring back my hordes of bumble bees. But for now, this is a good start. (And planting now means I get zucchini blossoms in April!)

Oh yeah and a basil plant from the grocery store. Love having the leaves sit in my drinking water.

#Happy Imbolc #Did my spring planting today #hark! the rare personal post #seed descriptions under the cut #uh super long too #nrm

[koolkat9]

In the Deep (Ch. 5)

How Does He Know You Love Him?

In a matter of days, I was right as rain again. Although it was nice for Ludwig to come to visit me in bed, I was excited to get out of that room and back near the sea. Also, knowing I wouldn’t have to worry about Ludwig drying up was another benefit of our regular spot. I still couldn’t shake the sounds of his gasps from my mind. Unfortunately, there was more than that to worry about. Ever since that night with Ludwig in the tub, ignoring my feelings for him had become difficult and there was no more hiding of the fact that I had fallen in love.

“Have you ever been in love?” I asked Francis carefully over breakfast. Francis was the last person I wanted to be talking to about this, but it wasn’t like I knew anyone else around. Though, the sight of him almost choking on his water made it a bit more bearable.

“What has brought this on?” 

“Fine…” I gulped not wanting to say what I was about to. “You were right,” I whispered.

“Quoi? I didn’t hear you.”

I groaned, burying my face into my hands. “You were right. I think I love Ludwig.”

“Ah! C’est bon,” Francis exclaimed, practically bouncing in his seat. Maybe I should have just suffered in silence. Now the frog could brag and tease me to his heart's content, knowing he was right and possibly.

“Yeah, Yeah. Now about your love life. Do you have a partner?”

Francis’ smile faltered slightly, his eyes becoming somewhat sad. “Oh..oui. Two to be exact. We’re all engaged actually. Hopefully, they’ll keep their damn promise and sit down with me to plan the wedding once they get home from their fishing trip.”

“You miss them?” I asked without really thinking. It wasn’t like I cared for Francis, it was only a natural question. Seeing him sad definitely didn’t make me feel bad. Not at all.

“Yes. Very much. But that’s what it's like when you’re in love.”

I tried to push back a smile, but I still felt the corners of my mouth twitch. Who knew he could be so...sentimental...dare I say sweet. But this talk about missing people was bringing up some unpleasant feelings of my own so I figured it was best to move on. “I guess. So...How exactly did you guys end up together?”

“Oh, it's such a romantic story!” 

So the first of the two he met was his childhood friend Antonio. They apparently had shared their first kiss, but didn’t actually start dating until after their schooling. Shortly after that, they moved in together as Francis had inherited the inn from his parents and Antonio had started a fishing business. While out on one of his fishing excursions, Antonio came across their other partner, Gilbert, who was shipwrecked. But there seemed to be more to it. When Francis talked about this part of the story, he seemed hesitant, almost like he had to think about what he had to say. It felt off to me, but I didn’t say anything. I just needed to see that he wasn’t just all talk when it came to love. Francis went on, explaining how Antonio and Gilbert got close during that trip and they fell in love. Antonio brought Gilbert home to introduce him to Francis and the three became instant friends. Soon enough Francis also started to fall for Gilbert and he eventually confided in Antonio about it. Antonio who had also started with feelings proposed they try and court Gilbert together. 

“One thing led to another,” Francis sighed dreamily, “and we started dating and got engaged about a year and a half later.”

“That’s...quite the story.”

“Yes. They come home in about two weeks.” Francis suddenly sprung up. “Oh Arthur, you’ll be able to meet them. We could even have a double date with you and Ludwig.”

I rolled my eyes. “Ludwig and I aren’t even dating so don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Ah, right,” Francis said, taking a seat once more. “Well if you want my advice-”

“I don’t.” I did. And he knew it.

“Just be honest with him Arthur. I’m pretty sure he likes you too.”

My cheeks went warm at the comment. It's not like I hadn’t considered Ludwig returning my feelings, but it couldn’t be that easy. Could it? Francis must have picked up on my hesitation as he went on to add, “All you can do is try.”

---

The salty sea air filled my lungs as I took a deep breath. ‘All you can do is try,’ echoed through my mind as I cautiously made my way across the rocky path. Ludwig turned towards me, practically glowing in the sunlight, stopping me in my tracks. I probably stared for a bit too long. 

“Guten Abend,” he greeted with a small smile.

“Ah...y-yes good evening,” I stuttered out. 

“Are you going to sit?” Ludwig asked after a moment. 

Mentally kicking myself for being so awkward, I sat down next to him, but I was unable to meet his gaze.

“Everything okay?”

“Just peachy.”

“Okay…” He didn’t seem to believe me, but at the same time, he didn’t ask further. “So...any questions for today?”

Thank goodness, something normal. I had welcomed the distraction until I realized I had nothing to ask except for one topic. That topic was part of what had me so on edge in the first place. Then again, asking about mating rituals of his kind would be educational, normal, and possibly give me the confidence I needed. 

“Y-Yes...we’ve covered almost everything b-but...there is one more thing...we talked about it a little bit a few nights ago-”

“Just spit it out Arthur,” Ludwig interjected sharply.

“Mating Rituals. Does your kind have any mating rituals?”

His cheeks flushed and shoulders stiffened. “M-Mating rituals?” he sputtered.

“Yes...You don’t have to share anything you don’t want to. I just…”

“It's okay.” His voice was too high-pitched for me to believe that, but I let him continue. “Well...There’s..um...Sorry...I’m not the most experienced with this stuff.”

“Don’t worry. Just do what you can.”

With a breath, Ludwig went on. “Well...I better start at the beginning. Usually the more...I guess...masc-...wait no...dominant ones of our species will start building nests with all kinds of plants and coral they can find. Some go for comfort, some make it more decorative, or a mix in between. It's all to attract a mate. It used to be used as...y-you know…” His gaze shifted awkwardly down to his lap, his blush creeping down his neck. “To have babies. But it's not like that anymore. At least not solely...for childbearing I mean but-”

“I get the picture,” I coughed awkwardly. Not that the idea of having sexual relations with Ludwig never crossed my mind (if anything it crossed my mind a little too much), but to talk so openly about it gave me anything but confidence. “Anything else?” 

“There is a calling in our language. It is a certain pattern of chirps and clicks that also attract potential mates. Once we find someone, we further engage in conversation and go from there.”

“Do you mind showing me?” I asked, “the call I mean.”

“Oh...uh...s-sure.” Ludwig looked a bit unsure, but proceeded anyway. He sounded almost like a dolphin, but it was still distinct enough. I found my cheeks heating up, my mind thinking what it would be like if he was calling to me like that. I shook my head, patting my cheeks to get rid of their colour. I didn’t need him getting suspicious. 

“What about you?” Ludwig questioned.

“What?”

“What kind of rituals does your kind have?”

I was surprised that he was asking now too. He never asked for prior questions. For a moment I allowed myself to hope, to think that this meant he liked me too. And I answered: “Hmm...there are a few though not everyone uses the same ones. But basic ones? There is the ritual of giving gifts like flowers, chocolates, jewelry…”

“Like my bracelet?” Ludwig’s eyes met mine. I felt like I just backed myself into a corner and more words got trapped in my throat. My gaze fell to the water. 

“I...um...ah...tech...I…well…”

“Arthur?” His hand found my shoulder, constricting my throat further. This was my chance, I had narrowed a confession down to one word.

“N-No,” I said instead. “Gifts can be for a variety of reasons. This one was out of guilt and...friendship.” At least it wasn’t a complete lie. 

“Oh…” His face fell, looking almost disappointed. “Anything else?”

“Well, then we go on a date which means we go to a restaurant or some other venue and get to know each other. Then there is the first kiss.”

“First kiss?” Ludwig asked with a quirked brow.

“Uh...Yes...Like, when you press your lips together and…”

“I think you need to show me.”

I swore I almost broke my neck when I turned back to him.“What?”

“Show me.” There was this intense fire in his eyes as he bore into me. My heartbeat quickened and my breath became short. That sly bugger. 

“I-I guess it can’t be helped,” I squeaked. I cautiously leaned forward, eyes closed, too scared to look. Ludwig ended up meeting me halfway just as I was about to give into my nerves. My eyes snapped open as his lips softly pressed against mine. They were cold, wet, but made me feel warm inside and out. It was like I was on fire, just like that moment from a few nights ago. As the kiss continued, I let my eyes slip closed and pulled him closer by his neck. Oh God, it was better than I could ever imagine. 

Unfortunately, we had to pull away, both of us gasping for breath. I didn’t move far, however, letting our breaths mingle. “I thought you didn’t know what a kiss was,” I joked, pressing my forehead against Ludwig’s.

“Maybe that was a lie,” he laughed sheepishly.

“So...are you going to make me a nest?”

“Shut up,” He hissed before going in for another kiss. 

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry this chapter took so long. I had bad writer’s block for it, then I got caught up in ship events here on Tumblr and then university started which is taking up a lot of my time. That being said, updates won’t be as consistent as they once were, but don’t worry, I would never discontinue this story.

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#hetalia #hws #gereng #engger #geruk #hws engand #hws france #hws germany #mermaid au #in the deep #mermaid!ludwig #privateer!arthur #fanfiction #hetalia fanfiction

[lucywritesreid]

Our own little island

Thank you for all the feedback from my last fic :3 I really don’t have any explanation for this other than....yeah...Spencer during lockdown haha.

Summary: Spencer and Y/N Have been living in their own private bubble during lockdown. YN has discovered a game and initially Spencer shows no interest...

There wasn’t much to say about the last few months other than they had been… weird. Weird on a global scale. You almost couldn’t believe how quickly everything went from normal to complete lockdown and watching the news every night had set you into complete panic mode. Both you and your highly germ-phobic boyfriend were more than happy to comply with the necessary restrictions. Spencer’s rational and calm mindset kept you both prepared and he did everything possible to reduce your anxiety. You would be forever grateful to have him by your side at such a horrible time.

For you the hardest adjustment was not seeing your work friends every day. It was odd to not spend every waking moment surrounded by all the people you loved the most. You didn’t realise just how much you would miss them despite seeing them all the time anyway. Friday night became the highlight. Your team, set up by Garcia, started a weekly quiz whereby everyone joined a Zoom call and one member was chosen to deliver a set of questions. Granted, it took Rossi a few failed attempts to be both seen and heard on camera, but you had all got it working in the end. Garcia’s quiz was based on cute, fluffy cartoon characters, Rossi delivered a mastermind style quiz all about the ratpack, Hotch surprised everyone with an in depth quiz about the employees of the FBI (where you realised he knew way more about personal lives of his colleagues) and you did pop culture through the ages. You had warned Spencer that ‘the history of the atom’ wasn’t in keeping with the Friday night spirit, and despite being met by many groans, he ended up presenting a fun and engaging quiz where losers had to take a shot for every question wrong. No surprise that he was the only one still standing by the end.

 The truth was that despite all the chaos and uncertainty, you realised that you were lucky to have so much time spent with the man you loved. Sure, you worked together, but that was as professional as you both could manage. Stolen kisses at the back of the jet and shoulder squeezes were as close as you could get whilst working. But at home, you both had free reign of each other. You were both night owls, sleeping through most of the sunshine. You spent your evenings playing chess, re-watching old horror movies and having a lot of sex. You were sure that you were keeping your local Thai restaurant in business, living mainly off that and tubs of ice cream. It was almost therapeutic spending your time lounging around in your comfortable clothes. Hours would pass while you both sat reading in silence (you, a few chapters, Spencer, a novel or three…), his arm slowly brushing the inside of your leg as you read. On the more anxious nights, Spencer would do absolutely anything to calm you down, making sure you were okay. He’d perform Shakespeare, teach you how to cheat cards, read to you in different languages and even let you braid the ends of his hair.

 You were very sure you were going to marry Spencer Reid.

 There was one of your hobbies that he didn’t quite understand. In the first few weeks at home, you had invested in a Nintendo Switch, mainly from the push of Garcia but you had been eyeing it up since it first came out. You spent many nights on animal crossing visiting Garcia and her magic candy land island. It was one way to experience the outside world without actually being there. There was something wholly therapeutic about going fishing, planting flowers and giving gifts to your wonderful animal villagers.

 Spencer, of course, didn’t really understand the appeal. Despite having the most wonderful brain you’d ever met, he seemed to have a block when it came to technology. He never discouraged you playing, but always looked over your shoulder with a furrowed brow whenever he saw you.

 “See that, y/n, there’s no way all those fossils would be in such close proximity to one another in such a small area.” He commented on more than one occasion. “What use is archaeology when they are just there on the ground for you to see?”

 “Spence, it’s a fictional world, I really don’t think they took into account geographical locations of fossils…” you couldn’t help but laugh whenever you spoke about it.

 “Don’t even get me started on the physical anatomy of these animals! How disproportioned they are from the real thing! And the colours, y/n! Have you ever met a purple tiger before?”

 You knew that he meant no harm from his remarks and was probably getting enjoyment out of it. So you’d shrug, offer him a turn and wait for some comment about how he was going to read an FBI report from 1987 again, and open your switch back up once he was distracted.

 One night, you had stayed up late to make wishes on your island. You really needed the star fragments to craft your new DIY recipes and had spent hours posed in position, ready to make a wish. You hadn’t realised that you were falling asleep and your switch was falling out of your hand, until…

 “YES! YES! Take that you stupid arachnid!” you heard a shout.

 Waking up and looking to your left, you blinked in amazement to see Spencer sat with your switch gripped between his fingers.

 “Spence? What are you doing? Are you okay?!” Many sleepless nights and bad dreams had left you very susceptible to fear when you heard shouting.

 He looked over to you and his cheeks flushed. “Oh, y/n, honey I didn’t mean to wake you I’m sorry! It’s just you fell asleep with your game in your hand, I went to turn it off and ended up talking about the stars with this wonderful little owl… She just tells you all these facts. And they are accurate, too! I even wished upon a star.”

 “That’s Celeste.” You commented, and yawned. “Spence, what time is it?”

 He squinted at the screen before replying, “4am.”

 You laughed. “And how long have you been playing animal crossing?”

 His focus went back to the screen but he carried on talking to you. “Oh, a few hours now! I’ve just caught a tarantula, the stupid son of a bitch bit me before! Did you know they could bite you in the game? I was just running around trying to get my bearings and it ran up behind me and bit me. But I showed it who’s boss. And hey! It turns out I was wrong about the fossils, in a sense..”

 You raised one eyebrow, “Dr Reid, wrong?”

 “Well, not wrong exactly. It’s still highly unlikely that they would be so close together, so close to houses, and be found in just one dig. But I took one to the museum after I dug it up and was really surprised. I hadn’t realised how accurate the information provided was about these fossils! And the details in the display, too! You’ve got yourself rather an impressive collection, y/n.”

“Mhmm.” Tiredness was setting in but listening to Spencer talk about your game was more than entertaining. You sat up slowly, leaned across and rested your head on his shoulder. “What else have you been up to?”

 “Well I recalculated the position of some of your flowers to maximise chances of getting hybrids. I know purple is your favourite colour so I looked into the best way to get purple flowers!” Spencer was speaking in that quick, animated tone that told you he was really into something. “I even researched the quickest and most beneficial ways of befriending your villagers to maximise the gifts that they give you. I spent a lot of time talking to the Raymond character.”

 “Raymond reminds me of you, y’know. Dapper, sophisticated, looks great in glasses…” you replied, nudging his shoulder with your forehead. “How did you find out all of this?”

 “Well, I read the whole Nookipedia website and that gave me a pretty good idea.” He turned to you and grinned. Of course, the genius had become the master of your favourite game in a matter of hours. “You can test me on any of the villagers’ names and personality types.”

 You looked down and saw piles of notepaper, all scribbled on, splayed out across the bed. You picked one up entitled ‘terraforming.’ Instead of trying to decipher Spencer’s handwriting, you decided to ask him about it. “Spence… what’s all this paper? What are these drawings?” You tilted your head and the paper simultaneously to try and get a better understanding of his scribbles.

 “Oh! I’ve been looking into reshaping your island. I came up with a few designs I thought you might like. My personal favourite is the honeybee, cos I know they are your favourite, so I calculated how we can use the terraforming tool to turn your island into a bee. Garcia would be so jealous and…” he trailed off.

 “What’s the matter?”

 He looked back at you with big puppy dog eyes. He chewed on his bottom lip a little before he spoke. “I’ve gone too far, haven’t I? This was your game, your private space, I never meant to take over. You really have done a great job…”

 All you could do was laugh. You leaned over and planted a reassuring kiss on his cheek. “Honestly? I’m really happy that you’re into this now. It means I can talk to you about it. Just you wait until you see Garcia’s island!”

“Really, you’re not mad at me?”

“It would be impossible to be mad at you, Spence. Maybe we’ll set up your own character now.”

And with that, you kissed him again, nuzzling into the comfort of his arm. “Show me what else you’ve been doing…”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x reader #spencer x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #animal crossing.

[cham-chammity]

MORE STRIKER X BLITZ (kind of) FLUFF BECAUSE I CAN'T STOP WRITING IT

It had been an exhausting day at work—more like a week—for the two imps who lay burnt out on the couch. It had been nothing but demanding clients and complex assassinations for the past few days and they just needed a break. Letting out a heavy sigh, Striker turned his head to look towards his boyfriend, who sat rubbing his temples. 

"Sometimes when I’ve had a stressful day, a nice trip to the tub is always nice.”

Blitz turned and snorted in response. “No way I have the slightest energy for any dick-wadding playtime after that damn mob family shit we dealt with today.”

"Oh, no no. A legit, calming bubble bath. With candles and soft music playin’. Used to do that a whole lot whenever I was sick or stressed as a kid.” Striker stood up and stretched, letting out a long, dragged-out yawn. “I’m with ya on the no energy for 'dick-wadding playtime’ as you call it either,” he chuckled. 

Blitz hummed in response before standing up himself. “Sounds quite nice actually. I think I have some candles in the closet over here I got a while back.” Blitz walked out of the living room, and Striker headed towards their bathroom. He drew a warm bath and poured some soap, making it nice and foamy. The bathroom became steamy from the hot water and faintly smelled of lavender from the soap. Blitz walked in with some rose scented candles. 

"Sorry about the scent. Not sure if you’re into florals. I kinda like the smell of flowers, especially from the living world,” Blitz laughed nervously.

"Oh, no way, I do too,” Striker smiled in response. “Screw them girly-girl stereotypes, as my aunt always told me. It’s alright to like the smell of flowers.” Both imps (unaware they were thinking the same thing) took a mental note of that for future date and gift ideas. 

Striker walked out of the bathroom and came back with his phone, searching for some music to play. “Any music suggestions, Blitz?”

"Hmm… calming, but romantic,” he smiled, while starting to strip down. Striker did likewise after making up a new playlist (which took no time considering he was a music freak, and knew way too many good artists of the like; being the hopeless romantic he is.) 

Blitz lit the candles after he finished undressing himself. Afterwards he dipped his foot in the tub before cursing at the temperature of the water. “Ah, fuck! The water is way too damn hot, you said warm, not scalding.” 

Striker lightly laughed at his reaction. “Guess I like ‘em hot,” he winked at the crimson imp. 

Blitz jokingly rolled his eyes in response. “Enough of the foreplay, you flirt.” Blitz slowly edged himself into the water anyways, eventually finding himself getting used to the temperature. Striker eased himself in next to his mate, sitting just in front of where Blitz now sat. 

"You mind washin’ my hair for me, partner?” Striker asked, passing Blitz a bottle of shampoo. 

"I thought you’d never ask.” Blitz proceeded to wet down his hair and poured the shampoo in a clawed hand, and started lathering and massaging Striker’s scalp. Striker closed his eyes and took in the senses around him. The smells, the music playing, Blitz gently massaging his head. A smile spread across his face as he was finally able to relax. 

"Quite the dorky smile you got there.”

Striker took a moment to respond but kept his eyes closed. “You can’t see my face, I ain’t facin’ you.”

"I can’t see it but I can sense it,” Blitz teased. He then washed the rest of the shampoo out of Striker’s hair.

When Blitz finished Striker turned himself around to face Blitz, catching the crimson imp off guard as he planted a soft, gentle kiss on his lips. Blitz sat in surprise for not even a moment before melting into the kiss, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. Striker cupped Blitz’s face with one hand, slightly deepening the kiss, making Blitz hum in response. After a few moments he positioned himself to lay on top of the crimson imp. They continued to exchange long, soft kisses, melting into each other's arms, the warm water and bubbles making the moment feel even more intimate. 

Soon enough their tongues started to explore each other’s mouths, running along teeth and lightly nibbling on each other’s lips. Blitz ran one of his clawed hands through the paler imp’s hair, and Striker lightly caressed the crimson imp’s face with a thumb. Their tails intertwined as they continued their soft, passionate makeout. 

Every once in a while they parted for a breath of air, only to lock lips again in need of each other’s touch. They occasionally kissed and licked down each other’s necks, leaving little love marks on one another, claiming their significant other as their own. Blitz let out soft purring noises and hums in response, as Striker did likewise. 

The two imps savored the moment, never speeding up, never going further; just expressing their love with one another through long, soft kisses and light nibbles. Blitz certainly enjoyed this himself. He was always kinky, rough and fast in previous relationships. But he had to admit, he definitely liked the slow vanilla stuff Striker had to offer. 

Eventually, the two imps parted, gazing into each other’s hooded eyes. Their faces were lightly tinted from the physical and intimate heat, and were lightly panting from their lack of air.

"God, I love you.” Both imp’s eyes widened in surprise. Oh shit, they both said it. At the same time. For the first time. Striker softly smiled and planted a soft kiss on Blitz’s forehead. 

"I love you,” Striker said again. 

Blitz smiled back and responded. “I love you too.” 

They once again exchanged a few soft kisses before getting out of the tub and draining the water. After drying off they went to put on their pajamas and layed in bed to cuddle in each other’s arms. 

"You know," Blitz started, "my mind is always racing. Going a million miles and hour thinking about satan knows what. But when I'm with you, I feel calm. Safe."

Striker softly smiled, rubbing small circles at the base of Blitz's spines. "Aw, that makes me happy." Striker paused for a moment. "I make ya feel safe?"

"Yeah, but not like the traditional 'I'll beat any ass up who will lay a finger on you' safe. More like... I know I won't be pushed around or mocked at. I can be myself without secretly hoping deep down inside you won't snap at me and reject me, or worse..." Blitz trailed off, letting out a heavy sigh. "I've never felt pressured or judged when I'm with you. For once, someone actually.. cares about me."

A deep pang hit Striker in his chest as he silently listened. It shattered him knowing Blitz was used and belittled most of his life. With the circus, past relationships, Stolas... Nothing made Striker's blood boil more than how Blitz had been treated in his past, and even now with the muddled mess of the rich-ass owl overlord.

"Well, darlin', anyone who has or does disrespect you certainly don't see past the surface. They tend to look at the tip of the iceberg. Graze the surface n' form an image of their own. But as for me, I look deeper. For strengths, weaknesses, traumas. There's a whole lot more than the present and future. Everyone has a past, everyone has something frozen under the surface. We just havta.. look for it. Accept and acknowledge it's there."

Blitz sat in silence at a loss of words. "I--" he paused and bit his lip. "I don't know what to say. But, thank you. I needed to hear that."

Striker intertwined his tail with Blitz's. "You don't have to say anything, Blitz. Now it's getting late. You should probably get some shut-eye. Sleep well, partner,” Striker whispered, planting another kiss on Blitz’s forehead. 

"You too cowboy.” Blitz’s words were hardly audible as he snuggled closer, falling asleep with his face buried in Striker’s chest. 

Thankfully, they had no work tomorrow, and both imps got a good night’s rest for the first time in a long time; accompanied and safe in each other’s arms. 

#striker x blitzo #helluva boss #helluva blitzo #blitzo helluva boss #blitzo x striker #helluva striker #striker helluva boss #blitzo #helluva boss blitzo #helluvabossstriker #blitzker #helluvabossblitzo #helluva boss fanfiction #vivziepop

[cupsofsuga]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 ━ 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 *:·。.

{ ⚠️} WARNING - This is a yandere au, meaning the following may be triggering to some viewers.  I am not trying to discriminate the boys in any way, this is for entertainment purposes. Viewer discretion is advised!!!

{ 💐} REQUEST - ❝ Can I have the boys reactions to an s/o who show her possessiveness by wearing their clothes ? She's all happy and proud to go to the university or whatever wearing their shirt because " That way everyone will know that I'm yours and you're mine , plus it smells like you 🥺 " ❞

{ ☕️} NOTE - thank you so so much for requesting, dollface!

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐊𝐉𝐈𝐍

━━━ November’s essence kisses the air of your living room, it’s fierce caress trailing across your skin. You, ever so intelligently, stated with pride that you could handle the cold, regretting the choice as the embers of moonlight trace their fingertips across naked goosebumps. Strolling through the halls of your home, shivering from the sharp wind, you find your bedroom with intentions of retrieving some form of warmth. You discover a grey hoodie, lethargically tossed over a chair. The owner’s identity is quickly exposed, as the sweatshirt descends down your form due to your lover’s broad shoulders. You have now found solace, drowned in the scent of cologne.

Oh, and the blush that blooms beat-red across Jin’s cheeks is a sight you’ll never forget.

Following that occurrence (and the rest of the night spent smothered in your boyfriend’s lily-pure affection), you’ve taken notice of Jin’s not-so-subtle efforts to usher you into wearing his clothes again. At first, it began with leaving articles of clothing in numerous places, but that plan backfired as you silently scolded him under your breath for not tidying up after himself. This strategy escalated into Jin planting his clothes in your drawer’s, then claiming it was an “accident” or "a way to save space.” The red hues painting his ears and the way he avoids eye-contact jeopardizes his weak filter, though. At least you find his everlasting, spring-scented infatuation beneath the facade of damp rain and rotten trees. Be careful, though. If you venture too deep into the depths of Kim Seokjin and you’ll find sights of crimson-stained sins.

❝ God, you have way too much power over me, y’know? I’m always so soft for you, ‘fucking moron. ❞

𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈

━━━ The evening mist glides through the brume of your boudoir, where you are embraced by the neglected clothes of your boyfriend like snow sleeping on a pine tree. After a particularly cold night strikes your studio apartment, the empty sheets and abandoned blankets failed to bring the solace of the sweltering summer-warmth your lover possesses. You yearned for Yoongi and the moonlight, the coffee stains, and stormy nights that kiss his form. The rhythmic melody of his gentle voice; the crow’s caress that wanders his skin. And despite his overbearing worry and protectiveness that you’ve brushed off as “concern for your health,” you crave those December eyes and that feeble heart. Fortunately for you, your knight in shining armor didn’t venture too far away. And finding you nestled under numerous covers causes worry to immediately swell within his heart.

His concern is distinctly evident, as his shrill voice of distress invades the midnight breeze. You swear you feel him shiver with dread when he feels how frigid you are when he shakily takes your hand into his. And before you express your refusal to his care, Yoongi vanishes from the bedroom to draw you a bath. If you think he’s exaggerating your discomfort due to the November weather, think again. Your name is then sung into the air, blossoming into the twilight’s brume as you escape the warmth of your bed and stroll to your lover. Before you, you’ll find the hot water adorned in bubbles and flower petals, candles littered around the room (far from the tub, for your safety), melodies of violin and piano reverberating through the area, and the sugary caresses from your Yoongi as the cherry on top. Whilst adorned in the blissful harmony of peace, you can't help but let your mind wander. His worry has always been grand, so grand that you fear his heart may actually stop beating if your safety was ever at stake.

Oh, well, at least he cares. Maybe a little too much.

❝ My Y/N, if you ever, ever need anything, I will always be right here… Always… ❞

𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐊

━━━ Finding your boyfriend nestled under a canopy of your clothing was never a shock, as your scent of cheap whiskey and jasmines beneath the August sun lulled his soul to ease. The sultry high he’s given when inhaling another article of clothing is euphoric, infinite. To breathe in your musk is to find an eternal night beneath the purple rain; to drown in the depths of you is to savor the stars as they breathe out the dust of twilight. There’s a garden that thrives around the simple presence of your fragrance and Hoseok can’t imagine a greater bliss that is your essence. That is until he finds you draped in one of the many sweaters he owns, the red threading like Autumn against your form.

He was always swift to recognize his infatuation, but to know the emotions he immerses himself into are mutual emits a variety of nymphs to tangle themselves with his heartbeat. He feels the rhythms of sunlight as they batter against his ribcage and nothing, nothing is as ecstatic as this.

Twilight has occurred, the moonlight bleeds through the glass panes and hits your eyes ever so elegantly. It reflects a soft radiance as if the moon was swimming in your irises. You are beautiful, lying on the couch with his sweater on like a stray cat who will soon vanish into the arms of the night. It was no secret that Hoseok adored seeing you in his clothes, as his boisterous admiration morphed into suffocating infatuation. There was even a time where you reached into the pocket of his sweater during class and find a folded piece of paper containing a sweet note (that was just a tad bit creepy) along with doodles of hearts, flowers, cats, and dogs. Hoseok's love may cut deep with its shattered-lily touch, but it is entirely pure. Despite the obsession seeping through his affections, he loves you more than you could ever possibly know.

❝ Hey, isn’t it crazy how after all this time, you still manage to give me so many butterflies? I… I think I’m gonna love you forever… ❞

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐉𝐎𝐎𝐍

━━━ You anticipate for your lover to return to your home, stumbling around the adobe in utter boredom. Although this lifeless night is all too dull, you notice how the penthouse you wander around resembles a palace. With its crystalline chandeliers and marble tiles, its paradisiac view of the city that never sleeps and melodies of chefs and maids rustling around the residence. Through the lavish estate, you find the bedroom, embellished in opulent riches of all kinds. Then, there’s the closet, decked out to the brim in treasures of Gucci, Chanel, and Prada. There’s jewelry, bags, shoes, nearly every single article of clothing an item you couldn’t dream of affording in your past, mundane life. Your eyes settle on a blazer, exquisitely threaded with the finest of silks nestled deep within the closet.

The coat is a tad bit too large for your form, but you believe it fits you like a glove. And despite there being a faint stain of spilled champagne on the sleeve, coming home to his summer sunset wearing his attire like its armor, Namjoon has never tasted bliss as divine as this.

The skies once painted baby blue morph into the dark hues of twilight. Night has come, euphoria has been found within the tendrils of your hair on his chest and the littering of bubblegum-pink kisses across your skin. For reasons Namjoon can’t define, seeing you in his clothes causes his heart to tremble and plummet. There’s this sudden veil of exhilaration, like a July night spent with your record collection and red wine. It’s an enchantment that aches deep within his chest, where the desire to submerge you in his affections burns within his heart. He gazes at your now sleeping form, naming off every detail of you that he loves so much like he’s counting dollar bills in his hands. His moonlight’s essence, his lavender’s breath, his garden full of violets. You have taught him how to live without rain and he can’t gift you enough gratitude for this blessing. But, just don’t be surprised when you find your closet covered in dust. You’re only allowed to wear his clothes from now on.

❝ Damn, blue is an outstanding color on you. Maybe that should be the color for our wedding… Wait- shit! I-I-I didn’t say anything! ❞

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍

━━━ Upon the surface of your bed, the voice of rain trembles against the thin roof above you. Tree branches sway with the heavy wind, lightning lashes like a whip against the evening floor. You feel the nightly embrace of bitter inclemency, as the earthly musk swims around the bedroom. Despite finally having a night alone, you notice yourself longing for the tumultuous warmth of your lover. A single night spent in isolation, Jimin didn’t take it lightly. After all, what is life without the iridescence of a Summer’s kiss? How can he breathe without immersing himself within the depths of his angel’s orchestra? You can assume what thoughts of hunger are rumbling through the boy’s mind, but you are oblivious to the saturated sound of Jimin weeping into his cold flesh.

You retrieve one of his sweaters in the meantime, inhaling his fragile scent of honey and moonflowers. He must be adorned in several layers of just your clothes, you joke to yourself. The enchantment of the rain’s melody and the fragrance of your boyfriend then lulls you into slumber, to where you then awake the following morning to dawn painting the optimistic face of Jimin.

Finding you in his sweater, knowing you had missed him, he had blushed like a tomato ready to harvest, that confident and broad facade melting like ice cream, to where he became a sugary puddle of flowering feelings and summer velvet. He looked like a young schoolboy who had received a love letter in his locker, as the blood of Aphrodite paints his cheeks rosy and utter bewitchment has him smiling like a lovestruck idiot. As you then regain consciousness, you are then smothered in Jimin’s affections. He kisses you everywhere wild as if leaving a single inch of skin unloved would kill him. He’ll even go as far as to order a shirt that reads “JIMIN + Y/N 5EVER” or just straight-up purchasing a conjoined sweater, so you’ll never be separated ever again. It is insane how infatuated he is, yes, but there is not a single soul within our universe that could cherish you as utterly as he does. And Jimin will walk with that fact to the grave.

❝ Ngh! No, don’t leave! Stay in bed, just for a couple more minutes! Maybe even a couple more hours, please…? A couple days…? ❞

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐓𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐆

━━━ October has bloomed, the saturated leaves are painted damp as rain kisses the earth below. You have lost track of the months settled within the isolated cottage, but enough time has been spent for your new boyfriend to grant you the privilege of taking a hike (with his presence alongside yours, of course). To stay warm within the frigid weather, you encounter one of Taehyung’s sweaters, arm sleeve hung over the side of the hamper. As the clothing sits on your form, you immerse yourself in the expensive musk of your lover. He smells like a century spent in the clouds with peaches and fairies; he smells like Autumn as pumpkin pie and Halloween nights essence dances with the ghosts in the attic. It is ethereal the way summer’s affection seems to litter the fragrance he dresses with.

Upon seeing you standing beneath the rickety door frame, adorned in his moss-colored sweater, Taehyung had blushed with utter joy and bewilderment. He had nearly dropped the midnight-black umbrella in his hands, stunned upon witnessing you in attire as mere as his coat.

After a stroll through the empty fields beneath the rainfall (and hearing the shutter of a camera for the umpteenth time), you retreat to your humble adobe. The following night is spent in blissful harmony, where you’ll sleep beneath the canopy of stars, locked within his daisy-chain embrace. You are his scarlet kingdom, his summer’s honey, his garden adorned in fineries such as nymphs and emeralds and birdsong. As dawn blossoms in the sky, you awake alone within silken sheets, the revelation peculiar. As you regain consciousness and study the sunlit bedroom, you find Taehyung’s clothes folded neatly on the end of the bed, drenched heavily in cologne. You nearly cough from the intensity, studying the note rested on top, where your partner exclaims he needed to run for groceries in calligraphy. Besides this note, however, is a necklace with a vial swung upon the string. With closer inspection, you come to the horrifying conclusion that the crimson fluid within the glass was his blood. You now shall never be apart again, not with Taehyung right beside your beating heart.

❝ Oh, Y/N, to spent everyday with you like this, it’s like everything I’ve lost has returned home to me. You truly are a blessing, my love… ❞

𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐊𝐎𝐎𝐊

━━━ It is a muggy Wednesday morning, where fog coats the floor of dawn, and the dense breeze embraces the earth’s redolence. Today is frigid, as the embers of the piercing winds kiss your honeyed skin. You can’t help but long for Summer to return home, where the sky turns pink in its sugary excellence and where you’ll find youthful infatuation on the curb of Cherry Street, like two poodles whose leashes have entangled beneath the Eiffel Tower. With philosophies of sweltering fantasies, you clutch a leather jacket, oblivious to its owner. Into the grey forest of high school, you’ll find every fragment of boredom known to mankind. But, throughout the dull conditions, at least you have your Jungkook.

Catching sight of you in his jacket causes a heavenly glow to inflate his heart, the essence of clouds and angel’s tears scattering his soul. It feeds into his possessiveness as if he was marking you with his scent, claiming you like a wolf would with his mate.

From thereon, you take notice of Jungkook’s subtle efforts to indulge you within his scent. His affections morphed from shy, rosy-pink compliments to physical touches, as if clasping onto you would drown out the musk of all those heathens you call “friends.” Your scent of moonlit harmonies and dusk in California had since dissolved into his scent of melting chocolate and cigarette smoke. His possessive tendencies may be extreme (like that time he snuck into your closet at 4 in the morning and perfumed every article of clothing with his cologne), but his intentions are ever so pure. You are his siren song, his sunset gaze, his purple rain. You are everything to this boy, with galaxies burning within your chest and distant realities snaking their way through your soul. Within the heart of Jeon Jungkook, you live inside Eden's garden, crafted just for you. And there’s only so much time before he scoops you into his embrace and never let's go.

❝ … You smell different… Who is it? Who have you been talking to? What is that blonde I always see you with? I swear, I’ll gouge out his eyeballs with a plastic spoon and force him to eat them!! ❞

#bts #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts headcanons #bts fanfic #bts au #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #yandere #yandere bts #yandere kpop #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere male #yandere seokjin #seokjin #yandere yoongi #yoongi #yandere hoseok #hoseok #yandere namjoon #namjoon #yandere jimin #jimin #yandere taehyung #taehyung #yandere jungkook #jungkook

[cha-lyn]

Milk & Eggs - Fourteen

Farmer!Bucky x Reader

Words: 1998

Summary: Small Town /Farmer Bucky AU // Reader leaves the city to go live with her grandma. She meets an attractive farmer and, no, they don’t hit it off.

Warnings:  fluff and some angst (maybe) 

A/N:  What a ride. This is the Final Chapter of Milk & Eggs. I truly appreciate the feedback. Really - if i didn’t know people were reading this I would’ve never finished it. Thank you, Thank you all. 💛 I have some other stuff in the works so don’t go too far 😏

Master List // Previous Chapter 

- - - 

You spend the rest of the day catching up and planning the week with Grams. You’d have your usual bakes this week, as well as the Henderson twins’ sweet sixteen birthday cake and scones for a housewife the town over who was hosting a tea party. Once it’s all been delegated, you and Grams sit on the back balcony of the apartment with mugs of tea.

You break the comfortable silence with what’s bothering you. “Grams. Do you think Bucky and I are moving too fast?”

She thinks for a moment before answering. “I don’t think it matters if you know how you feel about someone and they feel the same way. Your grandpa and I dated for three months before he proposed and we were married three weeks later. Some say we rushed into it, but we both knew what we felt and we were on the same page.” She stirs some more honey into her tea. You smile. 

Your grandpa was a distant memory for you--he’d passed when you were still young, but you remembered some things about him. He’d been a rancher and had several horses. The memories you did have of him were fond. He’d take you out to do chores with him-and at that time they were fun and you were more than willing. He spoiled you with hot chocolate behind your mom’s back and taught you how to shoot a gun.

“Looking back I would’ve married him in half the time,” she laughs. “Why the sudden concern about how fast you’re going?”

“I made a joke. I said he should get a dog and I’d come over more and he was like ‘You over all the time, come over anymore and you’ll have to move in.’ And then I choked on my coffee and there’s awkward tense silence and then he says he's joking…” you sigh, looking at Grams for guidance. She just chuckles at you. “Don’t laugh, Grams. We had this weird tense talk on the way back about defining our relationship and if we know each other enough and me not being able to see the future--”

“You never have been one to plan ahead, dear,” Grams interrupts. She catches your questioning look. “It’s true. You’d climb a tree effortlessly for the view and then all but lose your mind trying to figure out how to get down. You did things by the seat of your pants. But you always figured it out. You moved here pretty spur of the moment too, come to think of it.”

You chew your lip, “Ugh. That’s your cryptic way of telling me….” You pause and look to her to finish the thought. She laughs and shrugs, “Maybe it’s okay to not have it planned out. You two seem to have a good balance of making each other happy and being honest with each other.” 

You nod, but don’t respond.

—

The next evening there was a knock at 6:30 sharp. You shuffled down the stairs to meet Bucky, who was dressed in his nice jeans and a button up with a bouquet of lilies. Your favorite. 

“Hey slick,” he grinned at the sight of you. “You look beautiful. Got these for you and Sue,” he says handing you the flowers. 

You blush, “Thanks Buck. You look nice, too. Come on up.” You turn to lead him up the stairs, but he grabs your hand.

“Can we—can I just say something before we go up there?”

You nod, he sighs and runs a hand through his hair and you immediately think the worst.

“I really, really care about you. I’m sorry for how things went yesterday … I get what you mean about not seeing the future right now. When I was in the service, we lived day to day. We’d have plans and ideal outcomes, but then shit would happen and plans were just plans, so I get it. Nothing ever really goes as planned. I don’t need a label or a detailed plan for the future. I’m sorry I badgered you for one. I guess I just wanted you to know that I-I’m in this.” He waves his hand in between the two of you. “As fast or as slow as you wanna go, I’m in.”

Your heart thumps in your chest as his words sink in. You stand quietly for a minute, long enough for Bucky to start looking uncomfortable. “Bucky… I-”

“Oh hello James!” Grams’ voice calls down to the two of you. “You guys come on up, I’m taking the food out of the oven now.”

You see your out and start up the stairs, “Uh, Let’s go.”

Bucky sighs, defeatedly, but follows you up the stairs. 

Dinner was delicious, the conversation was much less serious with Grams present. Bucky insisted on doing the clean up--he made Grams relax and almost didn’t even let you help. When the dishes were done and dried, the conversation meandered until Grams let out a big yawn and bid the two or you goodnight. The silence that followed was deafening.

No sooner than Grams had shut her bedroom door, Bucky turns and asks, “Can we pick up where we left off?” You swirl the wine in your glass and nod slowly, but don’t answer so Bucky continues. “I’m in this. Wherever you want this to go and however fast.” Another stretch of silence as the two of you lean against the counter tops, it's getting awkward. “Are you going to say anything?”

“Honestly, there was so much of that with Spencer and then it all blew up in my face. I’m … scared to make plans again-- to have those kind of feelings again just for them to be ruined.” 

As you say it, it’s almost as if it replays in front of you. The initial swell of feelings when he touched you and kissed you. The late nights spent building imaginary houses and naming imaginary kids. But this time as the memories play back, they’re tainted. Soured with another memory, this one painful. You know Bucky isn't anything like Spencer, he’s proven that to you. 

As if reading your mind, Bucky breaks through your fog, “I’m not him. You know that right?” 

“Of course I know you're not him Buck-“ you sigh, planting your hands on your forehead. You had to make a choice and you know in your soul you can’t live with a life of what ifs. “So let’s do the damn thing.”

Bucky’s face broke into that blinding smile. “You sure?” 

“I’m sure I’d regret it if we didn’t try,” you say raising your glass.

Bucky clinks his beer to your glass, before leaning over to kiss you on the top of the head. “Let’s do the damn thing.”

---

Two months later

“Slick, what should I pack for this trip?” You hear hangers sliding as he searches for clothing in his closet. “Slick? I need help.”

You sigh, putting down your book and sliding off the bed. “What do you mean? We already ordered your suit for the wedding.” 

Bucky stands in his closet, shirtless in a pair of old grey sweats. “For all the other stuff we’re gonna do.” 

You wrap your arms around his waist. “Jeans, maybe a few nicer shirts. A hoodie. Bring your bathing suit-- our AirBnB has a private hot tub.”

Bucky hums, “Seems like you’ve planned this whole trip down to the minute. Please show me the itinerary.’

“Nope! I got big plans and they are top secret confidential.”

Bucky turns to face you, hands firmly on your hips. “I bet I can get them out of you.” You cock your eyebrow. “I was in the military, I know torture.” 

You throw your head back to laugh, but that was a mistake. Bucky starts assaulting your very ticklish neck with kisses. You try to push away but he has you in a vice grip.

“Oh. I didn’t know you were ticklish,” he deadpans. His fingers find your sides and though you squirm, you can’t get away.

“You can’t break me,” you choke out between laughs. Bucky doesn’t believe you--Hell you don’t even believe you--so he increases his attack, zeroing in on an armpit. “Ah-st-stop. I can’t breathe.” 

Bucky stops immediately and you bolt out of the closet, “Liar!!” he shouts, following you out, laughing.

You’re trying to catch your breath as you sputter, “Finish packing. Please. We gotta get up early tomorrow to make it to the rehearsal on time.” 

Bucky narrows his eyes, “This is a trap. But fine. I’ll leave you alone. All night. No snuggles, definitely no sex.” 

You roll your eyes, “I know where the blankets are-- don’t you worry about me, worry about packing.” Bucky eyes you for so long you think he might attack again, but instead he turns back into the closet with a huff. 

---

You and Bucky left the next morning for Seattle, the both of you giddy for a weekend away. Once you hit the city, Bucky lets you drive to the quaint AirBnB you chose for the trip. It was a cute little mother-in-law cottage on one of Seattle's surrounding islands and it was right on the water. Bucky was itching to know your super secret itinerary, but you wouldn’t budge on the surprise you had planned for him. You promised he’ll know more after the wedding.

The wedding was gorgeous. Brad and Aaron were both so handsome and their vows made you bawl your eyes out, which just made Bucky pull you closer and kiss the top of your head gently. Spencer was there, a plus one of a mutual friend, but he kept his distance from you and Bucky, so the night succeeded in being very romantic and relaxed. You spent most of it in Bucky’s arms on the dance floor, which is exactly where you wanted to be. He was the last person you thought would have dance skills, but again he surprises you by being quite nimble on his feet. He twirls and dips you until you're both dizzy and in a fit of giggles. 

The next day, despite your busy late night, you and Bucky are up bright and early. Bucky was as excited as a kid at Six Flags, begging you to just break the surprise to him early. You refused of course- it was fun watching him squirm. Bucky questioned your every turn on your way to the surprise.

“So, where are we going?” he asks for the 30th time.

“Bucky. You will see when we get there,” you say smugly.

“I wanna know now.”

“It’s okay to want,” you retort. 

Ten minutes later, you turn into the parking lot of Seattle Whale Watch tours. You look at Bucky, “We’re here.” Bucky’s eyes are wide. 

“We’re going whale watching?” he blinks slowly. “How’d--you remembered? I said that forever ago!”

“Of course I remember Bucky. It was a dream of yours… I wanted to make it come true.”

Bucky just grinned. “You’re the best.”

Bucky’s practically leaning off the boat with the biggest grin ever on his face. It’s been a particularly busy day as whale traffic goes, so Bucky was elated to say the least. “This is amazing. Wow.” He turns to you. “Thank you, slick. I-That was better than I imagined.”

You grin, so pleased that he’s happy. “I’m glad you liked it.”

He pulled you to stand in between him and he railing, “I told you that you knew me,” Bucky said smugly in your ear.

You smile as you turn to face him, “You were right, Buck. But there is something about me that you don’t know.”

Bucky purses his lips, “Doubtful doll.”

You shrug, but continue anyway, “I love you.”

Bucky blinks. “Well shit. I did not know that.” Somehow, Bucky’s smile for you was brighter than it was for the whales and the sparkling blue of his eyes putting the ocean around him to shame. “I love you.”

- - - 

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