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invvuu · 3 months

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LIPS TO EYES AND VICE VERSA — SIM JAEYUN

SUMMARY : sim jake sucks at being your tutor but he makes up for it by being your boyfriend. PAIRING : boyfriend!jake x gn!reader GENRE : established relationship, fluff / 1.6k words WARNINGS : jake is flirty, reader loses their mind because of jake ( there is a theme here if you couldn’t tell ) not proofread

﹙ 📑 ﹚ AUTHOR’S NOTE — why is writing author notes harder than the actual fics themselves,,, but anyways i guess i can just mention that i started writing this last night and then finished it while i was in online class as some sort of tmi (no cus why did i edit this draft five times already just to change the author’s note)

“MY EYES ARE UP HERE,” you say blankly — or rather, in an attempt to appear blankly as you look at Jake, your boyfriend and current tutor for the time being.

He had his chin sitting on top of his palm, fingers resting and occasionally tapping against the skin of his cheek. Jake had a couple rings adorning his fingers, all in silver except for the matching ring he bought for the both of you as a gift to ensure his commitment.

His hair was slicked back partly, slightly giving way for you to see his forehead. It also gave you a much clearer view of his eyes, hiding behind the clear lenses of the glasses he usually wears when reading or studying.

His eyes were a common sight considering the fact that he was your boyfriend and you see him almost everyday, however the only reason why you were bothered by them was because they didn’t focus on your eyes, but rather on your lips as you talked.

This was one of his flirty antics at work, the kind of antics you’ve gotten used to a long time ago but can’t help but still be affected by it.

“I know,” Jake responds back, attitude completely the same as it was in the beginning of your rant. Shortly after you notice the corners of his lips curving upwards into smirk, appearing to showcase that he knew exactly what he was doing.

And you were not surprised.

A sigh escapes your lips, “Jake, you’re supposed to be helping me with the lesson.” You spew out while raising an eyebrow at him, crossing both arms together in a direct manner. “Are you going to help me study or are you just going to keep messing around?”

He chuckles amusingly, grin not faltering.

“Messing around? I’m just admiring you, babe. You do know that you’re beautiful, right?”

Jake’s gaze starts to slowly trail from your lips towards your eyes, seeing the expression displayed on your facial features. “Besides, you were going off topic by ranting about Professor Kim and the Math exam.” He tilts his head, still appearing to be flirting with you.

“Well — yeah, and you’re supposed to be helping me pass the exam right now because I don’t want to fail,” you insist, attempting to get Jake back on track in acting as your tutor.

You then see him switch his focus onto the semi messy written notes, opened and sprawled across the table in front of you. “Huh,” he lets out, “You seem alright doing it by yourself though.”

Crap, he was getting to you. The way he spoke to you in a soft yet attractive tone rendered you flustered, and the way he looked like currently was definitely not helping your mental state at all.

With further inspection of his overall appearance, you can see he had his sleeves rolled up until it reached right below his elbow. This simple insight made you admire how evident his veins were on his hand, clearly seen due to his dress shirt’s sleeves not covering them.

He was, without a doubt, making you short circuit. And you absolutely hated that he was doing nothing but only the bare minimum.

“I still need your help either way.” Your tongue moves on its own immediately, mind trying to keep your thoughts at bay about him. You lay your hand on top of the written notes, sliding them towards Jake so he could read them properly.

“Oh, I was supposed to be your tutor or something?” He asks nonchalantly, brows raising up as he fixes his posture on his seat.

In response you roll your eyes and scoff, expression becoming a bit more irritated than it was in the beginning.

“So you just agreed to do this without even listening to me properly when I asked you earlier?” You inquire back, voice surprisingly sounding harsher as you continue looking at him.

Another set of chuckles blew out of Jake’s mouth. “No need to be so angry,” He then leans forward again, tilting his head another time, “I really am sorry though, but I was only doing my job as your boyfriend.”

His words sent shivers down your spine one after the other. It was annoying really, how much his voice had this much of an impact on you. His sultry and deep tone that he always used when speaking to you added another factor of why you were attracted to him in the first place.

From how he apologized, you could easily surmise that he wasn’t truly sorry. But the part where he mentioned that he was just being your boyfriend immediately gave you all of the reasons to forgive him.

You sigh, giving the attempt in ignoring your heart from fluttering another chance. Sim Jaeyun, Sim Jake, Jaeyun, Jake, Jakey — or whatever name he goes by, he truly knew his way to get to you no matter the occasion or if he had changed his persona.

At this point you were already losing your calm demeanor the more you interacted with Jake. Honestly, if it was him who drew the other half of your heart, you’d keep it against your chest without a single question.

He made you want to do impulsive actions, he made you want to embarrass yourself, and he made you want to become a fool. These thoughts were things that you wouldn’t dare to say out loud, mainly because you knew how stupid you would look like in doing so. You couldn’t help but wonder pitifully in your mind.

What was this man doing to you? You’re both dating now, so why does it feel like you were back to hopelessly crushing on him like before?

After all of these questions, you were sure that your mind was going to go haywire if he ever decided to graze his hand against yours.

“Babe,” Jake calls out, catching your attention as he waves a hand in front of your face, “Am I really that much of an eye candy to you?” He asks teasingly, eyes still looking into yours as he watches you flinch slightly at the sudden movement.

You then feel a tap on the tip of your nose, seeing a soft smile adorning your boyfriend’s features, “You’re making it harder for me to help you study if you keep acting this cute.”

As your heartbeat intensifies from his words, you quickly realize what had happened: you were staring at Jake and you weren’t aware of it.

In this point of the current situation, there was no mistake that you were an actual fool in disguise as a human. “Oh — uh, what were you saying?” You ask in a rather flustered manner as you place a hand at the nape of your neck, rubbing it gently the moment it touches it.

Jake grabs the pen from the table’s surface into his hand and clicks it a few times before answering, “I was admiring the view and it seems like you enjoyed yours too.” He cheekily prompts while giving out a small wink towards your direction.

Embarrassment quickly shoots through your mind at full speed, making you receive the desire to hide yourself from him further. “I was looking behind you,” you mutter, trying to create a valid excuse as your fingers begin fiddling with the edges of the papers sprawled across the table.

“You were looking at books about Shakespearean plays?” He stifles, turning his body to glance at the bookshelf to confirm his question. “Last time you told me that Shakespeare sucked, didn’t know you had a change of heart,” Jake shrugs sarcastically, the corners of his lips tugging themselves into a small smirk.

You frown slightly, letting go of the papers and allowing your hand to rest on the table. “I didn’t say he sucked, I said that reading and analyzing his works sucked,” you explain exasperatedly.

Jake can’t help but supply laughter at your words — the way you quickly tried to cover up what you were actually doing made him find you cuter than usual. With the intent of making the situation seem more entertaining, he points the pen at your face, “Then what about the books made you stop talking?”

“I just remembered about my assignment for History.”

“Really? History?”

You nod eagerly — a bit too eagerly for the matter. You tried your best to remedy the situation at hand but the seeping thought of Jake already knowing the truth was pretty much turning into reality.

“Yeah, I have to — um, read a chapter from Midsummer’s Night Dream and analyze it.”

“But I thought you were supposed to be reading Macbeth?”

The amount of counter statements your boyfriend kept saying were only making you more embarrassed. Embarrassed because at this point, you were sure that he knew exactly what you were doing a few moments ago.

“Just tell me the truth,” Jake prompts, “You were looking at me, it was very obvious.”

This was beyond what you were expecting for this tutoring session — actually, was this even a tutoring session in the first place? It was more like a stupid moment of you going feral over a man that you have been dating for almost a year now.

Sim Jaeyun was definitely a bad choice to have as your tutor.

“I have a challenge for you.” He puts his hands together on the table, as well as leaning back away from you to straighten his posture, “I’ll kiss you every time I catch you gawking at me.”

Hearing his idea makes you click your tongue subconsciously, because you knew that it would’ve make your life so much easier if this entire session didn’t happen, nor if you asked Jake to be your tutor in the first place.

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kayleighjennifer · 1 year

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Study time (Ona Batlle x reader)

⚠️smut⚠️

Ona watched you carefully as you sit at your desk, studying for your upcoming exam. “You know Ona, it doesn’t matter how much you’re starring at me, it won’t make the time go faster” You chuckle out at Ona’s burning stare.

She pouts “But I want your attention. Those stupid numbers don’t deserve it. Besides why the heck do you need that much math while studying to be a therapist?” You bite your lip and try to continuing studying. “I don’t know babe, but I can not fail this exam”

“But you don’t need to work anyways. You can be my hot housewife” Suddenly Ona is standing behind you and you can feel her breath on your ears. “Ona, let me study for one hour okay? After that you will have my full attention”. Ona plants some kisses at your neck but nods. “Fine, I will set a timer”.

Ona leaves the room and tries everything to distract herself, but you’re looking way too hot with the messy bun and those glasses. It doesn’t help at all that you’re wearing her shorts and a ManU hoodie. She starts doing the dishes and even makes the laundry but after 30 minutes she can’t seem to find a good tasks besides teasing you.

Your heart stops when you suddenly light kisses on your neck. “Oh my god, Ona! I nearly had a heart attack” You breathe out, making Ona chuckle.

“I’m bored cariño” She whines. “Be patient, only twenty minutes are left love” You sigh. You’d rather feel her touches all over your body than studying. Ona ignores you and instead leaves lovebites all over your neck. Her actions make you moan and you put your pen down.

“Ona, I really need to study, I have to take the-“ You can’t finish your sentence due to Ona turning you around and pressing her lips onto yours harshly. You give up and kiss her back, grabbing her hairs harshly. When you tuck on her hair, she moans into the kiss and you take the opportunity to push your tongue into her mouth.

Ona parts the kiss and innocently asks you if you can explain the math topic to her. “Are you serious right now? First you make out with me and then you expect me to be able to study normally?” Ona simply nods and smirks. “You’re unbelievable Batlle”.

You stand up to grab a glass of water for yourself, but then you return, Ona is sitting on your chair, waiting for you. “First stealing my breath and then my chair Batlle? I think that’s not very gentleman like”. Ona just signals you to sit down on her lap.

“You need to study sweetheart, come sit on my lap and then you can continue”. You do as you’re told and Ona quickly puts her arm around your waist.

You try to concentrate on the numbers in front of you, but it’s nearly impossible due to the fact that you’re sitting on your hot Spanish girlfriend’s lap, who’s leaving hot kisses all over your neck. “hmh amore, continue with your studying or I’ll stop”.

You don’t want Ona to stop so you randomly write some things down. You gasp when Ona puts her hand into your pants, slowly stroking your clit. “Ona” You manage to breathe out.

“Y/N, I might not be the smartest in maths but I definitely know that 5 x 7 is 35 and not 30. You need to really concentrate. Finish your task properly and I might reward you”. You get flustered but nod, growing even more excited.

“Good girl”. Ona starts to finger you but you give your best to end the task as fast as possible. “Fuck Ona, I’m coming” You moan loudly, arousing the Spanish woman even more. “Come all over my fingers for me cariño”. She breaths and leaves hickeys behind your ear.

Just as you finish the task, Ona rides out your orgasm. “You did so good baby girl, let’s move to the bed, shall we?”. You get carried to your bed and Ona quickly removes your pants. “You look so good in my hoodie baby”. Her comment makes you blush.

“Please Ona, I need you”. Ona quickly moves down, pressing harsh kisses onto your clit, making you shiver. Then she starts to eat you out and to praise you even more.

The mixture of both quickly makes you come. Ona looks at you with red checks adoringly. “I love you Ona” You smile out. “I love you too, amore”

#woso #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso x reader #woso imagines #woso smut #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle x reader

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sovonight · 7 months

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waiting (candle event, radri ver, 3k words) ↴

—✧✧✧—

As the light from the window recedes, casting her journal into shadow, Radri sets a candle upon the candle holder on the nightstand, then reaches over the side of the bed, rummaging around in her pack for flint and steel. As she fumbles around for it, Xan glances over from his place beside her, and extends a hand.

"Allow me," he says. With a small gesture and a whisper of a command, the wick catches flame.

"Oh," Radri says, looking up the lit candle, "Thank you."

She abandons her now unnecessary search, and opens her journal once more. Xan glances over again.

"I never found the chance to ask what you write about," he says.

"Mm?" Radri narrowly avoids leaving a blot of ink on the page, and gives her pen a dissatisfied frown, resolving to be more careful. "Normal things, I suppose. What happened today, what quests are in progress, what supplies we expended…."

"A summary of events, then, rather than a collection of personal reflections?" Xan says. "Did you keep such a journal in Candlekeep, as well?"

In Candlekeep? She had never considered it. Imagining it now, her entries would have blended together in their sameness; her days were a mixture of lessons and chores, with the only real variables being the subjects she was taught, and the people around her.

"I didn't keep a journal at all," Radri says. "I was always so tired of writing by the end of each day—the last thing I wanted to do was light a candle and write into the night." She gives her current setup a wry smile.

"But now that I'm gone… there's something comforting about the routine," Radri says. "The scent of paper, the ink… even the flame. Though Candlekeep isn't so full of candles as its name would suggest."

Then she blinks, and lifts her gaze from her journal, glancing over to him.

"I remember seeing that you have a journal, as well. Don't you keep track of similar things?"

"Of our every encounter, foe, and death?" Xan says. "If I dwell too long on what has happened to us, I soon grow astonished at the fact that we are even still alive—and against my will, the mind wanders. I prefer to keep my entries to more pleasant reflections."

"Pleasant reflections?" Radri echoes, curious, "Like what?"

"What else?" Xan says, gazing at her softly. "Thoughts of you, and our love."

—

Radri swirls the liquid wax around in the flat pan of the candle holder, drawing circles around the dying flame. Just as the wick is about to run out, she catches the flame on a fresh one, and sets the new candle beside her closed journal. Her journal entry for the day is complete; she is tired, and she is long due for reverie; and yet, something keeps her awake.

Xan. She sighs, staring into the dull, abandoned pool, watching the wax slowly begin to solidify again. She doesn't know why she's still waiting for him. He prefers to study his spells alone—and she has often fallen into reverie waiting for him to finish—but never so consistently or so often as in these past several days. A shadow has fallen across his dark, gray eyes, and though she lingers in bed, pretending to still be in reverie to ensure he gets all the hours he needs, he hardly looks rested.

When she asks, Xan says nothing. But—she hasn't really asked, has she? Are you alright, is no true substitute for, I'm worried about you. Is something wrong? Is it something I did? Are you avoiding m—

Radri gives her head a sharp shake. No—it does no use to jump to conclusions, and she's been through this dance before. All she has to do is wait for Xan to come tell her everything.

…No, that's not it. The last time she had waited, in just a tenday he had formed a conviction to leave her forever.

Radri stands, sending the candle's flame flickering in the residual breeze of her movement, worry suddenly taking hold in her chest. Her heart is set—she's going to go find him. Xan is probably still at that worn table on the floor below; at this hour, there are none but the stillness and darkness of night to keep him company. Her mind made up, Radri crosses the room in three quick strides, and opens the door—

—And comes face to face with Xan, who stumbles back a step in surprise.

"Radri," Xan gasps. With the glimpse he'd caught of her expression, he sends a cautious glance behind him, before facing her again. "You—you looked as if you were about to storm a dungeon. Are we leaving already?"

Then he looks past her, into the room, where the wax carnage by the candle holder she's been using to stave off the darkness serves as clear evidence of her sleeplessness.

"…Or have you not even rested yet, at all?" Xan looks worriedly down at her. Radri feels, for an instant, abashed to have raised his concern—but no, she has to collect herself. She is worried about him. And she must say it!

"I… I couldn't," Radri says. Yes, a good start—

"I…" she continues, and now, she should ask him now—

"I hadn't yet received your kiss goodnight." NO!

But her excuse has already left her in a nervous rush of words, too late to be swallowed now. Xan, understandably, stares at her—and mentally, she buries her face in her hands. How could her resolve have fled her so quickly?

"I… did not know it was that significant to you," Xan says, slightly puzzled, and it takes her a second to remember what she'd said that he's responding to, "Forgive me for the oversight."

Leaning carefully in, as though partly convinced that she might prove to be an illusion once he touches her, Xan leaves a simple, light kiss on her cheek. When he pulls back away, he seems silently astonished at having confirmed that she is, in fact, real. But Radri's mind holds no room to process this observation; her fingertips rise to touch the kiss he'd placed on her cheek, and her face reddens in embarrassment. He'd… he'd humored her… but perhaps this is the best approach. After all, it's not in her nature to tackle an encounter head-on.

"Are you going to come in and join me?" Radri asks. Though she tries for casual, her voice seems, to her ears, to betray her hours of waiting and doubt. But if Xan thinks the same, it does not show, and he does not refuse her.

Xan moves through his nightly ritual, putting his spellbook upon the nightstand and leaning his moonblade against it, so that he might always have it on hand. Meanwhile, Radri feels as nervous inside as she did the first time they'd shared a room, and finds herself standing still at the foot of the bed, uncertain what to do with her arms.

Xan lays down on the bed, then looks up at her. Perhaps it's just her, or the distance, or the flicker of the candle—but she thinks she sees amusement in his eyes.

"Come here," Xan says fondly, and in that moment, the spell of her nervousness is broken. She hastens over and falls into his arms; Xan's soft, breathy chuckle floats across the top of her head.

"If you were in such a hurry, you need not have waited for me."

She curls up closer, nestling her head against his chest, her ear pressed to his heart. He misunderstands; what she'd waited for is his closeness.

"Will you take my hand?" Radri asks; she misses his company in reverie. Xan sighs.

"I am in no state to show you my memories of Evereska tonight, if that is what you were hoping for."

"I don't want to see, so much as I just want to be with you."

"Well, then, I am already with you." Xan kisses her hair. Her heart clenches, and she tries again.

"Xan… has something been troubling you, lately?"

"I am surprised that you would ask me this," he says. "Many things trouble me, Estel'amin, and at many times." Though his answer is neutral, something beneath it is just slightly tense.

"Does it have to do with me?"

"You are on my mind too often for these troubling thoughts to never lead back to you." But he had hesitated… just barely.

Radri finds her breath caught in her throat. This is the moment; she cannot bear to blurt out any more excuses.

"Is it why you wait for me to fall into reverie, first, before you join me?" Her heart beats so loudly that it nearly drowns out the sound of her own voice in her ears. "I—Is it… why you've been been avoiding me?"

In the aftermath of releasing those words from her mind, she barely registers the fact that Xan's body has stilled, his breath frozen in his chest; her thoughts, many and jumbled, tumble forth, fighting for the chance to form on her tongue.

"I—I'm sorry," Radri finds herself stammering. "After all… it's an uneven arrangement, isn't it? You have such a beautiful city to show me, and I only have books and repetition—the same story, day in and day out. And then I finally left, only to start having these visions… these nightmares. Why would you want to live through them with me? I understand, really. I should never have—"

"Radri."

With one swift movement, she's no longer curled up against his chest, but laying on her back on the bed itself. Xan is leant over her, his arms on either side of her shoulders, his face cast into uneven shadow by the curtain of his hair. She can't help but notice the dark circles beneath his eyes, which are still apparent even in this dim light—but more than that, what strikes her is how pained he looks by her words.

"Is that what you think?"

Radri feels, suddenly, that she's gotten the answer very wrong. She's transported back to Candlekeep: one of her tutors stares at her from the board, tutting at her, as Imoen, sprawled casually at the desk next to hers, signals secretly to her what she should have said instead.

But the Imoen of her mind's eye has no choice but to fade away without helping her; there is nowhere in the world that contains knowledge of what Xan is thinking right now, except for Xan himself.

"What," she says, quietly, "Should I think instead?"

Xan, surprisingly, does not answer immediately. He seems, for the first time in a while, lost for words—though not for a lack of emotion for them to express. She watches his expression shift, from reflection, to frustration, to helplessness, to—

"I have been trying to shield you from my struggles," Xan manages at last, "But I see that I have failed."

Pulling away from her, he continues, "I… I keep having visions."

"I am alone with you on a beautiful glade—and we are ambushed by monsters. I join you in your reverie—and wake up next to your lifeless corpse. I let down my guard, and you are taken from me—" He pauses, taking in a shaky breath, eyes glazed over by the memory, "And there are many more. You cannot imagine the perils my eyes see."

"There were always fears, Radri. Fear of dying, fear of losing you, of hurting you, of dragging you into the void of my lonely, desolate existence… But now they are not simply that: they are live nightmares I cannot escape, and I dread my reverie every night. How can I share it with you, when I know what my mind will show you?" Xan says, and pulls his gaze away from her, bowing his head. "I am lost, Estel'amin. Lost in darkness… and even the candles of your room are not able to drive it away."

Radri begins to reach out to him, but pauses, his words still running through her head. She feels like she's forced this from him; she's sorry to have pushed him. Perhaps, if she'd just observed in silence longer, she could have guessed that this was what troubled him… but she can't help but think back to that first night, when their shared reverie went awry. Even with her tears, her confession, his words, and his comfort, what she remembers above all is relief, to no longer be holding all of her fears inside.

So she brings herself to him, and she holds him close.

"You can show me," Radri says. "I wish I knew what to say to drive this darkness away… I wish I could do for you what you do for me. But I will always be here to listen."

"I want to know everything about you, Tahlimil," she confesses; despite having spoken it in her mind many times, his name is still new on her tongue, and she feels his breath catch to hear it. "Not just your hopes, but your fears. Not just your shining moments of happiness, but your present sorrows. I want to be here with you, through all of it. There is not a moment in which I would wish that you had spared me… I don't think it's possible for us to spare each other, anymore."

Her heart is beating loud and fast in her chest; she wonders if he can feel it, if he can tell that she feels more nervous and vulnerable now than she does when she whispers to him that she loves him, before all the eyes of the world. Xan, held close, now pulls away to look her in the eyes.

"Estel'amin," Xan says, "I…"

He looks taken by disbelief and awe; he looks as if he wishes to kiss her. But then, another thought comes to him—and she can spy this exact moment, by the sudden look of resolve in his eyes.

"There is a question that has been on my mind for far too long," Xan says. "I have agonized over when to ask it, but I think it can only be now. I feel as you do. I would share everything with you: my memories, my emotions, my life… and I would know you, in turn, as dearly and intimately as I have only ever known myself."

He takes her hand; his fingers, and the rings upon them, are normally cool upon her skin, but tonight they exude pure warmth.

"I wish to forge the bond that will unite my world with yours," Xan says. "I wish to have you in my arms, Estel'amin… will you have me?"

The building elation that she'd felt throughout his first sentences falters, stuttering to a halt. Suddenly, their closeness comes to the forefront of her awareness. His touch, his gaze, and even the mundane way the fabric of their clothes has tangled together around their bodies; to notice these things now leaves a weight in her chest.

"Are you afraid?" Xan asks, softly.

She can't respond; he does not push her.

"I know," Xan says, and if Radri were less preoccupied by her thoughts, she would note that his tone betrays a hint of nervousness, "This commitment is far too great to fathom in a single moment. An elven bond is the closest intimacy I could have asked of you; I have had many days to reflect on it, and yet I have not granted you the same. I am not so fragile that I will turn away from you if you refuse me tonight."

Hearing that, her head jerks up, startling him slightly. Refuse him—in this? How could he imagine that she would, when even in the earliest of their days together—after she, by a miracle, had managed to convince him to stay—she had thought secretly, wistfully back to the kind of bond she had only ever been able to read about in books?

"No… No, I have been thinking on it, too," Radri says, and clutching the emotion in her heart, admits, "I am ready for our bond—but it is all I am ready for, right now."

"Then our bond is all I ask."

Shocked, she looks up at him.

"What do you mean?" Radri asks, "You… you're still willing, to...?"

"Radri," Xan says, a fond, relieved smile pulling at his lips, "Our bond is the one part of my question that I had always feared you would refuse. The rest can wait until the day you wish for it."

For a moment, she can do nothing but stare in disbelief. That feeling of elation returns, building little by little, replacing the heaviness in her chest.

"Can you ask me again?" Radri says, feeling somewhat breathless, "S—so… so that I might accept properly?"

"I have longed to forge the bond that will unite my world with yours," Xan begins again for her, and adds, with a look of unbearable tenderness, "I love you, Estel'amin. Will you have me?"

And at last she answers in a whispered, "Yes."

—

When Radri wakes, Xan is sitting up beside her, already awake himself. She stretches her arms out to hug him around the waist, and closes her eyes again.

"You've spent less time in reverie than I," she grumbles, "How is it that you're already awake?"

"Is it your wish that I return to bed, then?" Xan asks, brushing through her hair with an idle hand. "I will… But first, I noticed that you were running short of candles, so I brought you one."

Xan presents her with a lit candle. Radri, sitting up, beholds it with bewilderment.

"I… Thank you, but… if you're already burning it now, won't it go to waste?" Radri asks, looking at him. Still new to her heart, his presence and his feelings there are not yet easy to sort through, but she manages to single one out: anticipation.

"There is more to it, Estel'amin," he whispers, pressing a kiss to her cheek, "Just trust me."

Holding the candle between them, he faces her seriously.

"I wish to give you a promise, together with this candle," Xan says. "I… I feel you, now, as clearly as I feel myself. I know your fears as sharply as I know mine. And I promise: while you are here, with me, in reverie or in the waking world, you will not run out of candles, and whenever you have need of me, you will not find me wanting. —If you do have need of me, that is."

He extinguishes the candle, and looks at her with a slight smile.

"I almost do not believe it, but I feel… hopeful," Xan says. "And there, the candle is out. Do you forgive me for squandering it, now?"

"Yes," Radri says, barely managing to voice the word with how touched she is, and clearly past the need for any apology of his. "I'm… I…"

Xan just gazes contentedly at her, looking more at peace this morning than he has in days, and rather than trying to put into words what she feels after hearing what he said, she just wants to hold him. So she does.

"I suppose you will want us to return to reverie now," Xan says, his voice slightly muffled by the arms she's thrown around his neck. "I appreciate your offer to serve as my blanket, but it will be difficult to kiss you goodnight in this position… and I know how you cannot bear to forgo it."

"What even are you talking about," Radri groans, having reached her limit for deciphering spoken words the moment Xan's candle went out. There's simply too much information: from her heart, her head, this bond, and even the sun, whose rays are now peeking irritatingly in from the gap in the curtains at the window.

"Nothing," Xan answers, feeling all of this from her, and deciding to postpone his teasing for later. They have time. This hour, this day... and yes, perhaps even tomorrow.

—

full xan/radri compilation

#a remix/rewrite mushing two of his events together for my fav bhaalspawn #xan x radri #sovo writes

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marvelwitchergilmore · 4 months

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The Look Of Terror

Summary: Peter Parker x Fe!Reader -> You joined Shield and when you're placed under a certain Team Leader, Peter can't help but worry about you.

Disclaimer: This is more platonic co-worker vibes, I think? Rather than romance? But there is romance in it? Fluff, angst, Peter takes care of the reader. Description of a panic attack, kidnapping, bombs and an asshole of a Team Leader. I'm a little unsure about this one. Comment if you'd like a Part 2???

You were new to the team.

It was no surprise since you joined a week late into the program that your Team Leader pushed you harder than the rest of them. But you were okay with it, most of the time. In the times where you weren’t, you’d spend a couple hours in the library reading of worlds that didn’t exist - or at least, you hoped didn’t exist. Because, for as much as seeing a fire-breathing dragon would be cool, it could also destroy most of the population of New York in one breath.

It was six months into the program that Peter finally saw you.

Not that you had noticed.

He saw you on your first day of arrival. He heard your name mentioned in passing and that was as far as it went. Until the training rooms had to be pushed into one due to a leak in the women’s bathroom. It was then that you caught Peter’s eye.

But not because of your looks, although he didn’t fail to notice your beauty. But because of the familiar look in your eyes.

It took him a while to figure it out; what exactly the look was in the beginning, he couldn’t be too sure.

For over a month, he studied you.

You weren’t a part of his team. In fact, you were with a whole other training division. But in the days when he saw you, he studied you as best as he could before it could become border-line creepy.

He saw you talk to people, but they never became friends with you. You were happy to help out people when they were struggling but most times, you were left on your own. Whilst other groups studied the Shield Handbook together, cutting the 500 page manual into respectable chunks, you sat on your own in the corner. A few people would look over to you and snigger or sneer. One trainee had said aloud about asking you to join them but everyone else shut the idea down right away. You were the rookie.

What baffled Peter was the fact that the group of trainees, who refused to collaborate with you, were rookie’s too.

Then, one day, he pulled your file.

You had the highest test score out of your group. You were intelligent and smart. You had enough strength training to be transferred into a higher level but due to your qualifying status, you would only move up when the rest of the rookie’s did, too.

So, after all of this, when he found you in the library alone one night, he decided to talk to you.

“You must know that thing like the back of your hand.”

Peter saw you jump a little and instantly regretted not making himself known to you sooner.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Oh, no. That’s fine. I-I should be heading home now, anyway.”

“You’ve finished that book three times this week alone. Shouldn’t you be out with the others having a…drink or something?”

“Maybe, but…I kind of prefer my solitude.”

“Ah, the mysterious lonesome type?”

“Some may beg to differ.”

“I’m Peter, by the way.”

“Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“You’re a part of Abbot's team, aren’t you?”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“I’ve seen your file.”

“You pulled my file?”

“That and I’ve seen him train you twice a week when all agents share the training room.”

A look of realisation crossed over your face. “Oh, shit. Sorry, you’re Agent Parker.”

“Please, call me Peter. Everyone else does.”

“By the handbook says-”

“That all employees refer to their Team Leaders by their working title.” Peter sounded off. “That was something written by Fury to keep HR happy. To be honest, I’ve never really liked it. You’re meant to be a team, and how can that happen if agents are too busy worrying about calling their team leader by their official title.”

“You have a point, but Abbot-”

“Drill it into you.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

“Well, if you ever need anyone to vent to, you can talk to me.”

“Thank you.” Then after a moment of consideration you asked; “Why you?”

Peter nodded. “I worked with Abbot before Barton came back. I’ve seen how he can train those in his team. I’ve also seen that your group doesn’t exactly seem to strive for trust. It can be hard, working alone. Believe me, I would know.”

“Well, thank you.”

The next day, as you sat alone in the cafeteria, you were slightly startled to find Peter place his food tray down in front of you. “May I?”

“G-Go ahead.”

It shocked you a little; how much Peter was trying to talk to you. By this point, you had been in the program almost six months and no one, other than Abbot when he was barking orders, bothered to try and interact with you - on any scale of capacity.

And, for the following two weeks, it continued to happen.

Peter would sit down with you in the cafeteria whenever you had a break from training together. He would join you in the library on late nights when he had to make test scores and you were going over the handbook once more.

But it wasn’t until one evening when Peter noticed you had been a bit off for a couple of days, that he finally asked you what he’d been dying to ask you for weeks.

There was a distant look in your eyes. Like as if something had crept its way out of the locked box you kept it sealed in, and was slowly making its way to the front of your brain.

“What happened?”

It took you a moment to adjust back to reality before you could finally hear Peter’s question.

“What?”

“What happened?”

“When?”

“Before you joined the programme.”

Peter could see you studying him before he saw a wall go up in front of your eyes. “Nothing.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing. Nothing happened. I already told you why I joined Shield.”

Peter said your name, “I know the look of a horrible memory when I see it. What-”

“Nothing. Nothing happened, Peter. So, can you please just drop it?”

“Yes, sorry.”

You pulled the handbook back in front of you and began to skim through it again and again and again.

Except, that wall that your build would soon crumble, even as you fought for it to stay standing.

Three weeks later, and not saying a word to Peter, you found yourself in a training day that Abbot had set up without telling anyone.

“You’re gonna have to stay on your toes. It’s not easy out there, so, first up!”

Your name was called.

Others were called after you and you were given five minutes to understand your mission. And it took everything in you not to stop breathing.

As Peter made his way down to the training room, he found a “friendly” competition. The other Team Leaders had decided to get involved this time round and people were cheering and chanting and others were completely silent.

And only then did he understand why.

In the centre of the crowd, knelt three people and in the middle of them was you.

No one else noticed, but Peter did.

Your hands, despite the composure you were holding, were beginning to shake. Your eyes seemed glossier than the last time he had seen you and your breathing wasn’t like anyone else's. It was shattered.

And, as much as he wanted to stop what was happening, he knew if he did, it would probably make it worse.

Less than 30 seconds later, you were finished on the task in front of you and you stood back.

“Seven minutes and thirty-six seconds!” Abbot called out your time.

Peter watched as you turned your back and removed some of the equipment from your body before pushing your way to the back of the crowd. He rounded the corner of the crowd, but he couldn’t find you.

A few minutes later, he watched as Abbot awarded one of the Rookie’s a gift-card of some kind and a medal.

“Okay, that’s it for today! See you tomorrow!”

But you were the only one to leave.

And Peter was hot on your train.

From the moment you were given your task, your breathing was hitched in your chest and you couldn’t just quite fill your lungs with enough air to stop them from beating against your heart rapidly.

Throughout the seven and a half minutes it took you to complete the task Abbot had given to you, you had been slowly losing clear vision due to the tears of old memories ripping their way into your mind.

And once time had finally been called, you just had to force yourself to hold out a little bit longer.

But, when your legs began to give out on you, you rushed to find a wall to support you.

And, you did, for a moment.

Your breathing was unsteady and out of control. Your head felt like it was spinning and you were going to throw up, all the while you could feel every single particle of blood in your body trying to fight its way into and through your heart.

In a hazy distance, you heard someone call your name and you tried your best to focus and remain in control, but it didn’t work.

It wasn’t until you heard a door click open behind you and a steady hand lead you inside that you sank to the floor in a weak attempt to try and ground your emotions.

“Hey, look at me.”

You looked up and recognised the person who had helped you into the room.

Peter.

You couldn’t speak. So Peter tried his best to calm you.

“Just focus on my voice. Can you do that? It’s going to be okay. No one can hurt you here. You’re safe. I need you to keep looking at me. Here, pass me your hand.”

Peter took your trembling hand in his and held it against his heart.

“I need you to try and focus on the beats. Can you do that for me?”

It took you a moment, but when Peter pressed his hand over yours so it pushed further into his chest, you finally felt his heartbeat against your palm.

You tried your best to keep track of them, counting each one as they came.

“Okay, good. Now, can you follow my breaths?”

You tried your best to follow his breaths. Breathing in with him, and breathing out just the same.

It took a while but eventually your breathing returned, though it pained your chest a little when you did take in a deep breath.

At some point, Peter had moved to sit beside you, placing an arm around you, yet still holding your hand against his chest.

You didn’t know how long had passed before Peter spoke. It both felt instant and as if forever had passed.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not yet.”

You didn’t want to recount, just yet. You didn’t want to remember, just yet.

Eventually the light in the room dimmed and you found yourself standing. Peter had taken off his jumper before placing it on you. He had felt you shivering for the last hour but every time he went to move and give you his zip-neck jumper, he felt your hand hold him tighter not wishing him to move.

At some point, you found yourself inside of your home with Peter by your side, switching the kettle on without having to ask which is your favourite mug.

Peter didn’t say anything. He just let you sit by your kitchen island and stare at your hands for as long as you needed.

“It all started about two years ago.” you started, without even meaning to. “I, uh, I had been working the night shift. I worked in an emergency vet surgery. Anyway, one night, two guys came in. They said they had a horse outside that was giving birth but they couldn’t deliver the foul. It wasn’t rare that we got cases like this, so I grabbed my bag and rushed outside. But, instead of a horse trailer with a labouring mare, I found myself being carted off to a farm ten miles out of town.”

Peter slid the freshly made tea across to you before sitting down on one of the stools allowing the corner of the island to come between the both of you.

“I had…”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me everything. You don’t have to tell me anything.”

You gave Peter a small nod, too emotionally exhausted to try and fight.

You took a breath. “I had…found myself on a farm and all I remembered was getting hit over the head and when I woke up I was strapped into a ticking bomb.”

You recounted everything to Peter, from the moment when you woke up and what was going through your head, to managing to find your medical bag which they hadn’t hid well, if at all. And, how, from that, you had tried your best to get out and stop the bomb from going off whilst it was still attached to you.

The fact that you had, by some miracle, managed to get away before it went off and blew up the barn was beyond you. But once Barton had found out, he wanted you in Shield. You had most of the medical training and with some training, you could become a major asset within Shield, helping eventually train medics in the organisation - even if you had started out as a Vet.

It was safe to say Peter was pissed about Abbot's actions.

Hell, it was even in the handbook and probably within the file that Abbot would have full access to since he was your Team Leader.

You, under no circumstance, were to be put into a situation like you had been put in just hours earlier until you had clearance from a licensed medical therapist. And, after a few questions, Peter found that you hadn’t.

Yes, you had clearance to train. You had clearance to practise. But when it came to something you had been so close with facing yourself? No.

Again, time passed and before you knew it, you had come back around and your wall had slowly started to build back up.

“I should probably go to bed. I’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

“Oh, yeah. Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” You tried to assure him.

Eventually, Peter got up to leave but looking down at your top, you called out to him.

“Sorry, here’s your top.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” Peter turned to leave once again but then turned back. “Oh, here…just in case.”

You looked down and found Peter’s card. It contained his name, office address and his phone number.

“If Abbot tries something like today again…”

“I’ll be sure to call.” you nodded, though Peter feared that what you were saying had no meaning. That you would continue through it, pushing your emotions against your brick wall as hard as you could before you broke again.

“I mean it, Y/N. He shouldn’t have done that today.”

“I’ll be okay, Peter. I promise.”

AS the door closed behind him, Peter feared that you had made a promise you couldn’t keep, despite how much he knew you would try to.

#peter parker #peter parker x fe!reader #peter parker x reader #tom holland! peter parker #though you can see it as a different actor of Spider-Man if you want #fluff #angst #taking care of reader #co-workers #falling in love?#platonic ships #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #spider-man x reader #spiderman x reader #agent parker x reader #agent!peter parker #agent!peter parker x reader

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psi-scribe · 20 days

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The Infinite and Divine, Review

So it took me about 3 days of reading on and off but I finished reading The Infinite and The Divine! Let's get an important question out of the way first, does it live up to the hype? Honestly? It does, it really does. I understand now, all the memes about Trazyn and Orikan, my mind eye's is open.

10/10 would recommend this to anyone looking to tip their toes into necrons or just looking for a sincerely fun book full of thrills and angsty moments.

I would like to remind everyone that the characters in question are older than the Emperor by a long freaking time, millions of years.

And they act like this, consistently. Truly "growing old is mandatory by growing up is optional".

As always spoiler filled rambling under the read-more (though I will be avoiding parts of the plot because no, you really do need to read this on your own.)

But of course, now I shall begin reading Renegades: Lord of Excess~

Ok so I really do need to touch on the humor first because this book is hilarious, in so many ways. From the back-and-forward banter between Trazyn and Orikan, their actions in general (more so on Trazyn's part) and their remarks to the other necrons. Someone tells Trazyn "you can't drink wine??" because he has a wine cellar and doesn't want to move it, Trazyn replies that of course he doesn't drink it! That would be a waste! Rather than the fact that he...literally can't drink. At another point a necron lady named Phillias (hey I love her too) basically called them idiots and Trazyn said "yeah you are too."

Also-

THE MEMES WEREN'T A LIE! THEY REALLY WERE THE TWO MUPPETS AT THE THEATER, THEY DID THAT! I HAD TEARS IN MY EYES!!

Ok but onto the more serious aspects of the book. I really enjoyed just how well we get to see how immortal beings deal with time. Orikan spends decades, centuries even studying just one subject, a necron court trial (yes, that's not a joke there was a lawsuit) takes years just to gather evidence and decide on a mediator. Hell, later on even more time passes, we see the rise and fall of several civilizations just on one planet. And this matters so little to the necrons.

Trazyn even remarks that the worst enemy for an immortal is boredom, that's just a good insight.

And as a brief side note, remember what happens in the beginning and hang onto it, trust me.

There's also so much lore about the necrons back when they were the necrontyr and the culture they had. Despite everything there was a culture, they had smoking pipes, gods before the C'tan, they had plays and music, all of this made despite all they were afflicted with. This is something that that both Trazyn and Orikan remark that they had in come with humanity; they lived shortly but managed to seize control of the galaxy despite it.

Ah Orikan, what a bastard (as Trazyn also calls him, lmao they really do curse a lot in this book) but he's so interesting? He warned all the necrontyr about what would happen with the biotransference, he was dragged unwilling into the forge. He doesn't understand why Trazyn would be mad about him breaking his (Trazyn's) old cane, why he collects everything he does. Orikan wants to ascend further now, leaving behind his metal body to become energy.

Man I would love to see him and Szeras interact given that Szeras was so involved with biotransference and wants to become a god.

Another part, despite their arrogance the necrons have their doubts, worries, regrets and fears. They are terrified of the flayer virus and the virus that creates the destroyers. And, here's a real kick in the gut, the C'tan messed with their memories to the point they can't really recall their own pasts, just fragments and pieces, what's there might be false too. Man the C'tan suck.

I have so many emotions due to reading this book. More parts related to the plot buutt I can't spoil it, I really can't.

Love Executioner Phillias, remember that too.

#scribe's scribbles #scribe shouts about books #the infinite and the divine #necrons

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luv-loo · 1 year

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Study Date & Kisses

Masterpost || Bones Masterlist

Vincent Nigel-Murray x Fem!reader

Summary: Y/N’s having trouble with their uni assignment, luckily the classes Fun-Facts guy has decided to help. The same guy Y/N may or may not have a crush on..

Warnings: Swearing, some of info may not be 100% accurate.

Notes/Anything Else: Another repost, I promise I’m gonna other stuff ! I really like this fic, but be warn that Y/N comes off pretty pissy in this fic, but for good reason ! I’m promise Y/N still nice. I love this series so expect some more fics of them in the future <3

° Tagging — @topguncultleader

The times currently 9:30pm, your eyes check tiredly to the screen of your laptop. The library closes in an hour and you’ve barely gotten half way in your assignment that’s due tomorrow afternoon.

The idea of going home makes you smile, but you know well that once you shut the front door your heading straight for your bed and sleep for the next two days.

That’s why your pushing through, multiple sickly sweet energy drinks as your right hand companion and the will to past this last assignment for the month, but this is just tedious. You much rather work directly with bones and the now of technology, than the history of how scientists and doctors discovered and identify bone parts from the 17th century. A fact you’ll never dare tell Dr Brennan.

So you’ve been putting this off. A dumb idea on your end. Making more time at the Jeffersonian was great, but breaks should of been made for finishing off these rather than chatting with Hodgins or watching Angela reconstruct the victims face while she talks about what type of past they might of had. You look back to the clock. 9:45pm. “Just great.” You whisper to yourself. Seconds felt like minutes.

You looked around the library. Barely anyones there. It’s quiet, besides soft footsteps, paper flipping and tapping on keyboards from other students. Your screen went black, so you pressed the on button to re-type your password. Soft footsteps were coming closer behind you. Your head snapped towards the sneaky stepped behind you.

“Woah! Hey, Y/N, don’t give me that look.” A British voice said, his hands in a defensive pose.

You quickly, tried to, soften your face while you pinched your nose. You sighed and looked back at him.

“Sorry Vincent. I’m just tired..” you yawned and looked back at him. “Do you need anything? Do you wish to trade my shift with Dr Brennan again?”

“Uhh… did you know the timing of our need for sleep is based on two things. The first is how long we have been awake. The second is our bodies clock. If we stay awake all night we will feel more tired at 4am than at 10am. Scientists call the time between 3am and 5am the ‘dead zone’. It’s when our body clock makes us ‘dead’ tired.” Vincent smiled, making a small pointing jester with his pointer finger.

You raised your eyebrow. It’s not that you hate his facts, knowing that is his way of communicating comfortably (for some reason), but it’s currently 9:52 and you feel like your eyes are getting darker by the second.

“Can we skip to your point, Vincent? If I’m not mistaken you are usually in bed at this hour.” It came out harsher than you wanted, making Vincent subconsciously grab onto his laptop cases strap. Twisting it in his hands, making you cringe a little.

“Um, well, you see.. I notice that you hadn’t completed the latest assignment—“

“—What gave that away?” ‘Stop being pissy’, you think to yourself.

Vincent bit his lip, and nodded.

“Yo-your laptop is open and your in the library at 9:59pm on a Thursday. Our Assignment, that we’ve had two weeks to complete, is due tomorrow.” You gave him a weary look.

“Right… you were being sarcastic.” It was almost like he was shrinking in his shoes at that point.

You’re about to punch yourself at this point. The Brit’s obviously here to help, but because your tired ass is deciding to be mean he’s melting from nerves. Vincent was always the one to ask questions on any part of the project he didn’t understand or just wanted extra info on. His hand is always up during lectures to the point where the teachers just tell him to write all the ones he has down and than hand them a list at the end.

After all the questions he asked got answered he would hand most of the class pieces of paper with those answers. “Just in case I had asked something that you wanted to know and you didn’t write it down quick enough!” His normal answer when you ask.

You sigh at those memories, and point towards to the seat next to you.

“You may help Mr Nigel-Murray.” You smile as his eye light up a bit. Vincent went to sit down, pulling out the chair when he stops.

“Are you sure you want me to help you, Y/N.” His cheeks are a bit rosey red, it stands out from his pale, British, skin.

You chuckle a bit and shake your head. “Your not only here to help, I’m about to lose my sanity with my fourth energy drink. I could use the company.”

“Alrighty, Mrs L/N. I’ll keep you the company you need.” Vincent sits down and puts his laptop case on top of the table, pulling his laptop out before placing it on his chair like a bag. You smirk as you turn back to your laptop and re-enter your password once again.

“How far have you gotten?”

“Up to when the Andean Villagers strung up their dead’s bones like some festival decorations. This part is really boring honestly—“

Vincent slaps down a piece of paper, louder with how quiet it was.

“You find them boring? I rather find them very knowledgeable in the history to those people.” Vincent says, taking out two papers, fill to the brim with writing, and set them besides you. You grin as you take hold of a half empty can of a strawberry energy drink and take a swift. Before taking it back from your lips and turning it a bit in your hand.

“You all enjoy those things, well maybe besides Colin, but I don’t really. I study criminology so I can work on the front lines of a case. I take this class to help better my understanding, but some of this stuff kind of ticks me off. You know?” You finish your tired speech and place your can back down, facing towards Vincent.

You look up to see him with red cheeks again, but he’s staring straight at you. Your own cheeks heat up a bit, because god those eyes. His bluish-grey tinted eyes are just cute.

You shake your head. ‘Not when I have work to be done, Y/N!’ You angrily thought to yourself. Crush later, work now. ‘God..’

“I completely understand! I have certain things I do not enjoy others may. But when it comes to work I believe it’s best you priorities it. Even if it’s to your distain.” He smiled, god that smile. And god that accent. You never thought an accent could suit someone, until you heard Vincent Niguel-Murray.

“Well, as you Brits would say, let’s crack on.” You say, placing your hands on your laptop.

Vincent laughed.

It’s currently 10:47 pm on a Thursday night.

You and Vincent are packing up the paper, books and your laptops so you could leave quicker. You’ve completed the work, a little half-assed, but it’ll make sure you pass.

As you both start walking to the door Vincent turns towards you.

“Hey, um… Y/N, if you’ll like, I mean, if you have any more trouble, you can always send me an email. I wouldn’t mind helping you out more.” His voice goes up one octave as he asked. You internally scream as your heart starts picking up pace. You both reach the front door to the Library, Vincent opens it and lets you walk through first. God your cheeks must been bright.

“I could just give you my number, so if you just wanna hang out that’s alright with me.” You say as you turn and stop. Taking out your phone from your pocket.

“That’ll be alright.” Is that another octave higher?

Vincent shuts the door and takes out his own phone. Opening the message app, you gently go and take his phone. You quickly put in your number and text it to your phone and hand it back to him. He looks down and his face turns beet red in an instant.

“Uh, Y/N, why did you save your name as ‘Y/N: Needer of help’?” He laughs a little as he looks up. You smile and walk up to him, getting inches to his face, you’re about the same height, and give him a peck on the cheek before stepping back.

“Because I’ll call you whenever I need help with anything.” You give him a wink and turn to start walking away, smirking while your heart thumps like crazy.

Vincent watches as you walk away, your bag bouncy a bit and your ponytail swinging. He reaches up and touches the spot you kissed him and his face becomes redder than fresh blood on a corpse.

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erenxfrieda · 1 year

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My brain will NOT let me sleep rn, so I just keep thinking about how yandere Five Hargreeves could literally just give me praise and books, and I would be completely sold

Like- 'Oh? He just killed someone who I didn't know was flirting with me? Well, he also called me Darling and Sweetheart while gifting me the last book of a series I've almost finished, so I'm willing to either overlook it, or find it incredibly attractive'

For Number Five, it just makes everything so much easier. This old man is already very tired of all these problems, such as trying to prevent the apocalypse, dealing with the Commission, trying to save his weird family that can't last a single day without him, and ending with you, or rather, protecting you. If you found out about what he did, or if someone else told you, he would have a big-big troubles. But it's seems that your indifference about this situation only plays into his hands.

You could read your book in total comfort at the table, for example, during lunch, as Ben used to do, until someone called out to you and asked you a question, obviously trying to get on Five's nerves, given by the fact that the person with whom you was talking right now, as it seems, are not afraid to bring up this subject like 'Do you know that Five killed this one guy you met yesterday?', while Five Hargreeves himself, was sitting somewhere near you.

You wouldn't stop reading even for a moment, too immersed in the gripping story written on the pages.

You will reply that you don't care about this situation, and most likely, this will make Five smirk at your answer, full of pride, and then look at that person, silently showing an 'Ha. Told ya ' face.

Were you surprised? No. Did it bother you? No. It seems that other people around you were more worried about this than you, but can anyone blame you for this when such a nice guy who takes good care of you does something very bloody...but at the same time so fucking romantic and intimate for you and only you?

If people blame you for this, these people are not worthy of you and most likely they are just lying to you. (⁠◠⁠‿⁠◕⁠)

To be honest, I don't remember if this is canon for the show or not, but I saw some parts from the TUA book where it was mentioned that Five's room was look so empty, if you're going to compare with others Hargreeves, due to the fact that he was busy with his constant trainings and trying to improve himself. But that's before the apocalypse. After the Apocalypse, Number Five simply has no other choice than to occupy himself with reading books while he had to live in the world without people.

I think while living at the Academy, Reginald made them read a lot of the classic books, then Five would search for more books to get even more knowledge, then the Apocalypse led him to 1) he shouldn't stop his studies even under these conditions; 2) I already wrote above it.

Number Five has literally been in the future, so all of your current literature is not new to him. If you are interested in how your favorite writer's unreleased book will end you can just ask him. “Are you looking forward to the new part of '(Book Name)?' Don't waste your time on this, the ending was terrible” or “Wait another few years, the '(Another Book Name)' is in development right now. Believe me, you are going to love it, darling”

But don't think that he will impose his personal preferences or tastes on you. He respects you, so if you personally ask for his honest opinion on something, he won't be afraid to tell you what he thinks about it.

The two of you are very similar, and you are also incredibly calm when it comes to his yandere tendencies. If you continue to be obedient and good without asking so much questions, then you will receive more gifts from him. It's so simple, isn't it? Good, now go back to your reading, sweetheart. ♡

#yandere tua #tua x reader #yandere x reader #five hargreaves x reader #yandere five hargreeves #yandere five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves #umbrella academy x reader #yandere umbrella academy #tua imagine

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auroraesmeraldarose · 3 months

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Professor Dekarios AU fic pt2 - also available on AO3 for your easy reading pleasure :)

————

The next six weeks were a blur of work, lectures, and tutorials. The first assignment deadline was on the horizon, and Helene had been working feverishly in as much of her spare time as possible on it. Her crush on Professor Gale Dekarios had not yet disappeared, though she was quite well distracted by all her reading and research, alongside her day job. Gale finished his next tutorial with an announcement that brought that crush quite clearly back into focus, though.

“Well, team, you have three more weeks until your first assignment is due. I would absolutely love to hear from you about your plans for it; if anyone is interested in a one to one tutorial to discuss your research, just sign up on the form I’ll email to you now.”

Helene had of course been one of the first to sign up, and was quite looking forward to some time one on one with Gale, even if it was through a screen, and even if it did make her feel a little nervous.

The evening of the private tutorial came quickly. Gale sat in his study, Tara on his lap, and a glass of wine on the desk in front of him. When he offered these one to one tutorials they inevitably ended up being after eight in the evening, when his students were finished with their day jobs and family obligations. A little glass of wine felt like the only way to motivate himself to get through them, sometimes. Tonight he only had the one tutorial, and had considered trying to reschedule it and give himself the night off; he was fond of the student he was meeting, though, and that was enough to convince him not to reschedule. She had been an active participant in all their discussions, offering some insightful comments that suggested she would do particularly well in the course. Over the past six weeks she had been at every lecture and tutorial, except one. Even then she had sent a very polite, apologetic email explaining that she had to be at her workplace’s Open Evening until nine that night, but would of course catch up on the recording as soon as she was home. She was clearly a bit of an over-achiever, and Gale usually liked that in a student, provided it wasn’t accompanied by attention-seeking or hubris. Helene, though active in their sessions, did not dominate them, and seemed quite modest in her own estimations of her knowledge. Perhaps too modest, in fact. And so, as eight o’clock rolled around, he found himself quite looking forward to hearing about her plans for the first assignment.

“Now, Helene, would it offend you, or result in you reporting me to the University if I indulge in a small glass of wine while we discuss your assignment plans? It’s absolutely fine if you’d rather I didn’t - but these late tutorials always feel a little more pleasant with a libation!”

Helene laughed, and turned on her webcam, to reveal that she too had a glass of red wine in her own hand.

“I wasn’t being rude, having the camera off - I was just going to finish my wine first! I didn’t want you to think I was being unprofessional, but I really needed a drink this evening.” Her voice was half apologetic, half laughing, and Gale enjoyed finally being able to put a face to the voice. His eyes flickered over the image on the screen. She was younger than many of his Masters students; she looked to be late twenties, early thirties perhaps - a lot of his students were retired already, and using that retirement to further their education. She was pretty, too, though of course he would never make such a comment about a student anywhere except in his thoughts. Her hair was long, red, and wavy, down almost to her elbows, judging from the few curls that hung in front of her shoulder. She had big, dark eyes and pale freckled skin, which looked even paler against the low necked black top she had on. Behind her were numerous shelves of books that almost rivalled his own, and dotted along the shelves were candles, crystals, ornaments and pictures.

“I imagine in your job you quite often feel the need for a glass of wine of an evening. I don’t envy you; teaching adults is much easier than teenagers, I would think.” He managed to stop thinking about her appearance long enough to speak, and his face was sympathetic.

“It certainly has its difficulties… And today has just been full of those particular difficulties.” Helene sighed, and took a sip of her wine. “But you don’t want to hear about my day, I’m already taking up a chunk of your evening! I’m sorry I chose such an awkward time for a tutorial, by the way…” She trailed off, chewing her bottom lip in a way that made Gale feel a little jolt in his stomach which he firmly squashed back down.

“It really is not a problem, I realise many of my students have jobs and families and such that have to come first. We can’t all live an ascetic, hermit like life of academic study, like me!” He laughed self-deprecatingly as he spoke, and the cat on his lap hopped up onto the desk, clearly disturbed by the movement.

“At least you have Tara to keep you company,” Aurora smiled, before continuing, “I’m starting to talk to my own notes as if they’re going to talk back!”

“Oh, don’t worry, I often do that. It’s only if they do start talking back you need to be concerned.” He smiled, his dark eyes sparkling. “I hope you don’t mind my asking, but uh… Do you have a decent, uh… Support network? Masters level study can be draining, especially alongside a job like yours. It’s important you have people around to help ease the burden. A roommate, a partner, a husband or wife, perhaps?” Gale hoped his casual tone kept his words professional; he wasn’t prying into her personal life, just making sure she would be well-supported in her studies. It was part of his job, to look after his students’ wellbeing, and make sure they did too. It was definitely, absolutely, professional, not personal.

Helene felt a hint of a flush creep over her chest at the question, and bit her lip nervously again before responding, causing another little jolt in Gale’s stomach as he watched. He was very glad you couldn’t tell through the camera how focused on her lips he was, and quickly tore his eyes back to hers as she responded.

“Well, I have good friends who will look after me when I have the inevitable MA-related breakdown! And people at work are being helpful about it, letting me skip some meetings to do work for this instead. But, no, at home it’s just me… Means fewer distractions from my studies, I suppose!”

“Ah, well… Just do make sure to reach out to those friends when you need to. And me, of course; I am here to support you through your studies this year, after all. A breakdown shared is a breakdown halved, as they say!” Gale grinned enthusiastically at his own joke, and even more so when Helene let out a little snort of laughter at him. “Now, on to the assignment; tell me everything - what are your thoughts so far?”

Helene spent the next twenty minutes in deep discussion about her assignment plan; Gale listened intently, adding questions and comments as she went. It was a good plan, and he was particularly enthused that Helene seemed to be really making the task her own. The statement for the assignment was a fairly straightforward one at first glance, and each year brought forth the same essay in slightly different words over and over. It was only ever a few exceptional students who managed to see through it and make a much more powerful argument in opposition; Helene was one of them. Although at first she had been tentative about disagreeing with the source material, his encouragement soon had her arguing quite fervently against it, and he enjoyed the passion with which she delivered her ideas. By the time the tutorial was supposed to be at a close, they were still deep in conversation, though they had found themselves drifting from the original topic. It wasn’t until Tara began pawing at Gale anxious for her supper that he looked at the clock, and realised their twenty minute tutorial had almost run into a full hour.

“Oh, Helene, I’m so sorry - I’ve kept you talking for almost an hour! You’ll have to forgive me, I do get carried away with the sound of my own voice sometimes.”

“No, prof- sorry, Gale, it’s my fault! I hadn’t even realised the time. I’m sure you have far more important things to do than listening to me ramble on!”

“It’s been a pleasure, really. I don’t think I’ve ever had such an enlightening and enjoyable tutorial.” He was grinning, the smile lines around his eyes creasing as he did so, and making him look even dreamier, in Helene’s opinion.

“It’s certainly been the most interesting one I’ve had, too. Thank you, Gale.” She smiled warmly back at him through the screen, her eyes flickering down to her desktop then back up to him, and making his stomach jolt for the third time that evening. Tara began pawing at him again, and Helene laughed softly. “I think Tara might be feeling a little left out, so I suppose I should let you go…”

“Yes, she’s waiting to be fed, I think. I’ll see you at our next session, then. Good night, Helene.” He gave her a little wave, and Tara batted at his hand as he did so.

“Thank you again. Good night, Gale, and good night Tara!” Aurora waved back, still with the same warm smile, as she clicked the x in the corner of the screen.

For a moment, Gale stared unseeing at the blank screen, as Tara continued to paw at him. He really had enjoyed his evening, and was surprised by just how much. He dragged his mind back to the present, and went to feed Tara, trying hard to forget the image of Helene smiling warmly, looking up at him from under her eyelashes. Gale continued trying to shake the thoughts from his mind as he collected the untouched glass of wine from his desk; he had been far too invested in their conversation to even stop for a sip. It was only just gone nine, but Gale decided to take his wine and a book to bed; he didn’t think he’d be able to concentrate on much more than that for the rest of the evening. Even then, he found it hard to keep his mind on his book, and had to repeatedly scold himself for letting his thoughts drift back to the conversation he’d had with Helene, and even more so when those thoughts drifted from their conversation to the way she bit her bottom lip. After an hour or so, and very few pages actually read, Gale gave up, and eventually went to sleep still trying to get Helene out of his mind.

Helene, in her own flat, was similarly finding it difficult to stop thinking about the way Gale had grinned at her, the way his eyes sparkled when he was talking passionately about something, and the little lines between his eyebrows when he was listening intently. She tried to focus on writing up her notes from their meeting, and solidifying the points they’d discussed into a formal plan for her assignment… But she kept hearing Gale’s voice in her head as she wrote, and remembering the way he raised a finger in the air when making a new point. God, she really thought she’d be over this stupid crush by now, but he was making it very difficult by being so damn attractive. Helene forced her mind back to her study, and found herself still at her desk gone midnight, drifting between academia and thoughts of Gale.

#fanfic #bg3 gale #bg3 #gale dekarios #fluff #gale of waterdeep #bg3 au #professor dekarios #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction

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ansbobcar · 3 months

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EP 2. Hangover and find out

WORD COUNT. 1425

Link to overview

_ _ _ _ _

The Desert Cane woke up with a hangover. That was a fact, slowly bringing himself to find his glasses which were on the coffee table beside the couch. With a sigh, he could finally check the time in his office.

“It’s only 8 o’clock,” he huffed in relief. His division began work around 9 and the monthly briefing with the field agents was at 10, so there was still some time for him to look less… wasted, taking a walk to the closest washroom and looking at himself. He looked about the same without his robe, just more irritated honestly. It’ll go away with time, he brushes it off as he washed his face at the sink before patting it dry with his handkerchief.

Once he returned he was greeted by Rinka once again who was now in her orange robe. “You’re awake!” She had brought over some soup and a loaf of bread. “You had me worrying for a bit last night.”

“You didn’t have to bring me anything,” he dismissed her words only to wince at the throbbing pain.

“I definitely did,” putting down the tray of food she brought and helping him over to his chair. “I’ll take over for the meetings.”

“Don’t you—”

“—I’ve got nothing on my schedule in the morning, I’m fine,” and he conceded.

She was the previous head of the Magical Power Administration, he reminded himself, unpleased by the saltiness of the soup he sipped. He should trust her more than he lets himself.

“Was there anything else you were supposed to do today? Like in the afternoon or evening,” she tidied the mess that occurred near the coffee table.

By the mention of it, the grip on his spoon loosened as he scowled, “one more meeting.”

“With who?”

“No clue,” his parents set him up again.

“Just give me the location and time then.”

“2 o’clock, The Hound at the end of Marchette Street,” he recalled from the phone call. “I’d prefer if you didn’t follow me for it.”

“Sure thing.”

_ _ _

Sadly, she heeded those words, faced with a dolled up daughter of another high ranking officer in the Bureau… probably. There was no sense of charisma in her charm-filled eyes, did she recently learn a spell? It was sloppily applied, he critiqued as he held a blank expression during their conversation whilst waiting for their food.

She seemed too relaxed compared to the others who knew his position and placed him highly on a pedestal.

“... I’m currently studying at Easton in the meantime. Sadly, I’m in the Lang House, so I think that’s where our similarities end,” she chuckled to herself with a calculated awkwardness, as she tucked some strands of hair behind her ear.

“Did you join Easton recently?”

“Not at all but mid-terms are coming up soon,” she rambled about practising her subjects soon but they seemed elementary the more he focused on the details. “What were your favourite subjects?”

“Didn’t have any since I did rather well in all of them, but I preferred to be in the library before I opted to do police internships if that helps,” he replied sincerely. “You should probably focus on Potions and Magic History then. Under timed conditions, it’s easier to lose large amounts of marks due to the nature of their content and as a result either fail the subject.”

‘Oh god,’ she thought. ‘He’s just babbling away about how the exam will be? I didn’t study that far into Ancient History with the Giant Race though?!’ Even the food went cold as she completely immersed in his words of advice. It reached a point where she was about to hit curfew at 5 o’clock alongside the clouds thickening it’s dull appearance over the city, and quickly left him to finish eating his meal alone.

‘That’s the curfew for… oh.’

He hid the tightening grip on his hidden hand as he watched her run in the distance.

“They’re just unbelievable,” he held back a scoff, thunder boomed nearby. Droplets tap danced with increasing crescendo onto the roof and all around the city centre as he continued his meal as a waiter lit up the candles inside the restaurant and he sat there, mulling over his next decision towards those needy oldies.

They would likely send a new letter with another rabbiphone in about a week’s time and by then he has to figure out how to get away from the problem. If it continues beyond this month, he might actually lose it and become a full blown alcoholic. He would’ve chosen the one from today if she was in her graduating year at Easton as he had initially believed.

The restaurant doors opened briefly, greeting his ears with the rapid descent of rain from his seat. Shaking the umbrella in her hand before she left it at the door, she turned towards him and waved before she walked to the seat opposing him, bits of her hair stuck to her skin. “You didn’t return so I thought you passed out again,” she rested her drenched robe on the seat as she received a menu and ordered chicken chop immediately. “And then the weather changed,” she continued. “How are you feeling compared to this morning?”

“The headache’s been gone now,” he promptly replied. “How were the meetings?”

“There were some glaring issues with their patrol routes, since they avoided common hotspots for magic abuse,” she summarised. “I suggest linking them up with each district’s police branch to come up with a flexible schedule since our own forces are rather limited still.”

“I also looked over some of the newly handed in reports, nothing strange about them.”

His scowl-filled eyes softened into disappointment as his co-worker continued to catch him up on important details. He couldn’t interrupt her out of necessity even if his seething thoughts could barely be chained to the back of his mind but he tried his best to listen to her. “Sophie’s new security system in the storage room is almost impenetrable and inescapable for your average double line magic user! I’m so happy my ideas helped!”

However, those reigns were instantly ripped apart as she questioned: “How was the blind date?”

“She didn’t even start high school yet,” his resentment for his parents grew in his voice. Alas, there was no law against this practice for the near future as he watched her section of her dish.

“Hopefully she graduates from high school,” her eyes filled with melancholy at his words. “So how are you going to evade your parents now?” He stayed silent, at a loss of words.

“And I thought he was a decisive guy,” she mumbled under her breath. “I’ll be frank.”

“Either you have me act as your girlfriend or you’re gonna meet that teenager in a week and pray that she cheats on you down the line so the engagement gets cancelled.”

“I’m not putting false hope in a middle schooler,” he turned down the second option, only to grimace at the first option she gave. “And that… needs a realistic progression to be believable.”

“This is the realistic progression,” she countered. “If it wasn’t for the rain, the candlelight on the table fits the atmosphere we’re trying to convince them of! Haven’t you seen the people tailing you from outside? The paparazzi are crazy in this part of the city regarding famous figures.”

The rain shuddered in the wake of another stab of thunder. His

“Can we discuss the details later in my office?”

_ _ _

A night passed with the breeze, as Ryoh Grantz, the most dazzling man alive, awaits for the other Divine Visionaries to arrive with the honey obsessed Flame Cane who briefly glares at him. He sits at the edge of the balcony connected to the director’s office, who for now has taken a deserved month long break. Alas, the Bless Minister hasn’t returned to the room as expected.

He giggled handsomely at this fact before the door opened gracefully, revealing the lovebirds… from the corner of his eye,” he stiffly fumbled his words as his comment seemed to be ignored. He wasn’t scolded for his narcissistic remarks or had his delusional teasing corrected, as they just stared at him like guilty children stuck in place.

“Yeah.”

The white haired sweet tooth choked on his tea as he questioned them with a tight grip onto his cup. “Since when?”

This time, the bespectacled youngest in the room replied.

“It’s been a few months.”

_ _ _ _ _

Lmao the quotation in the overview's mentioned now so uh. yayyy. When will the title be mentionned in storyline? Dunno?

EDIT: I MADE A CONTINUITY ERROR FOR LATER CHAPTERS. We're currently in May the school year. Like 8-10 months before the main mashle canon plot begins.

#mashle oc #orter madl x oc #orter madl #mashle x oc #i made a continuity error

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crystalxwitch · 2 years

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Stress Relief - W. Maximoff

Summary: After your weekly babysitting job, Wanda seems to notice the stress consuming your body due to your constant studying. Thankfully, she has a way to relieve some of your stress with her help.

Pairing: WandaMaximoffxreader

Word count: 3.8k

Tags: This is a 18+ story, minors DNI / smut, fingering (r/W receiving), oral (r giving), praise, top!Wanda, mommy!kink, thigh riding

"I believe you did enough for today, y/n. That mind of yours is working non-stop, give yourself a bit of a rest tonight." Wanda sits down beside you, slowly closing the laptop screen.

You shake your head, knowing that pushing your assignments to the next day would only make the amount of work bigger.

"I can't do that, Miss Maximoff. The assignment is due Friday, and I haven't even finished half of it yet." You explain, the thought of it alone making anxiety rise within you. "I can't afford the break."

Nevertheless, Wanda doesn't let you continue your assignment, placing the laptop on the coffee table next to you. You know that arguing with her would lead to nothing.

"You deserve it more than anyone, don't be silly. Doing your master degree while babysitting four times a week is more than enough in my opinion."

You sigh, knowing that it isn't exactly uncommon at all. "It's nothing that my friends aren't doing too, to earn some money, Miss Maximoff."

"Y/n, you don't have to call me that. Wanda is just fine." She points out, pushing her red over her shoulders. "Or do I look that old to you?"

Your eyes widen, not at all thinking that way. Quite the reverse, actually, but you are smart enough to not utter those words aloud. "I- No, not at all, Mi- Wanda."

Wanda smiles, her pink lips widening as she listens to me stumbling over my words. "That's good to hear. Besides, for me, you're doing more than enough in my perspective. You need to give yourself some time off after all those stressful days."

You gulp as memories of the past week rush back to you; hearing your roommate's voice argue with you. As it turned out, Sarah wasn't as fond of the fact that you would rather study in your dorm room than in the common room or in the library.

You appreciate the silence in your own four walls, not needing to see too many people in one place. Still, Sarah couldn't see the point that you were making.

On your search for another place to study that wouldn't be as crowded as the library, Wanda came to your rescue. Already spending most of your week in her house, babysitting the twins, she offered you to stay as long as you needed to get your work done.

At first, you kindly declined her offer, not wanting to be a burden to her. But Wanda was persistent, assuring you that it wouldn't be a problem at all.

"Y/n?" Wanda's silken voice pulls you back to reality, her emerald eyes twinkling as she sees the clouded gaze in yours. "Where did your pretty mind take you now, dear?"

A faint blush appears on your cheeks, heat rising to your face as the older woman observes you with intense eyes. The nickname sets off a whole other emotion in your stomach, tingles running over your skin.

"Nowhere special." You reply, eyes flickering to your hands. "I just remembered how kind you are to let me study here."

"Oh, that's the least I can do for you." Wanda squeezes your knee gently, an innocent gesture, nothing more. "I just want to make it a bit easier for you."

The spot under her fingers lights on fire, a small gasp nearly escaping your mouth. Your face must be burning now, no doubt evidence of your inner conflict. You would be lying if you said that the single woman isn't insanely attractive and caught your eyes even before you began to babysit the twins.

Nevertheless, she would never be interested in someone like you.

Your eyes widen as you feel her warm hand on your skin, realizing that your mind drifts off once again.

Wanda runs her thumb over your knee, a gentle smile on her pink lips. "Do you want something to drink? You must be thirsty after all these exhausting hours."

"Yes, please."

For the next few minutes, you sit on the couch, drinking some expensive wine that Wanda found in the basement. With every passing second, you feel the tension of the day creep over your shoulders, biting down on your tongue as the uncomfortable feeling doesn't seem to disappear. Wanda watches you over the rim of her glass as you rub a hand over the spot.

She leans forward, taking the wine glass out of your hand and placing it on the table.

"Turn around." Wanda smiles, making a motion with her finger. Before you can shake your head, the redhead gives you a reassuring grin. "Trust me, dear."

Not able to tell her no, you turn around and face the other side of the room. Your lips part as she begins to massage your shoulders, shivers running down your spine.

"You're so tense, y/n. All this sitting isn't good for you." Her thumbs rub over your shoulder blades, your eyes fluttering close. "You need to take better care of yourself."

The contact messes with your mind; every rational thought flying out of the window. Her fingers touch a specific tense spot, making you press your lips together, but nevertheless, a small groan slips out.

"Right there?" Wanda whispers, pressing a bit harder into the spot.

You nod, leaning your head to the side. Her fingers run through your hair, pushing it over one shoulder.

Your eyes snap open, lips parting as you feel her lips pressing against the back of your neck. "Mi- Wanda, what are you doing?"

"Shh." She trails her kisses to the side, playing with the strands of your hair. "Do you want me to stop?"

You shudder as her hot breath fans over your ear, her voice raspy as Wanda's hand skims over your waist. A small sigh passes your lips, heart hammering against your rib cage.

"N-no." You breathe out, turning around to face her as long as you still have the courage. "Please, don't you dare stop."

You stare at her with pleading eyes, not even knowing what you want from her, as your mouth runs dry as she stares at you with a burning gaze. Wanda smiles, holding your chin between her thumb and forefinger as she lets out a satisfied hum. Your eyes flicker over her face, noticing her dilated pupils.

Not even realizing your teeth worrying your lip, Wanda runs her thumb over your bottom lip. The roughness of her fingertip against your sensitive skin makes your stomach tingle.

Wanda pulls your bottom lip down, slowly leaning towards your face as she musters you with intense eyes. Holding in your breath, her soft lips press against yours, a small sigh passing your mouth.

She tastes of red wine, a hint of chocolate on her lips. Her tongue invades your mouth, a few whimpers freely escaping your mouth. Her mouth teasingly sucks on your lips, mouth falling open in a silent moan.

Wanda leans a few inches backwards, fingers brushing over your cheek. "You've been thinking too hard lately. Let me take care of you, darling."

She moves you on to her lap, hands resting on your lower back as she kisses you with an intensity that takes your last breath away. You hold on to her shoulders, desperate for some kind of support; anything that helps you to not drown in her addictive kisses.

It is a lost cause, everything about her too much for you to handle. Your whole body feels on fire, spreading like wildfire over your skin as the older woman pushes you against her. You silently hope that she can't feel the way your heart is hammering against your chest.

"I bet you wanted me to fuck you for so long. Your pretty eyes were hanging on me the moment I came back home." Wanda groans against your lips, biting down on the skin.

The light pain makes you gasp, fingers digging into her shoulders. Her tongue licks over the stinging spot soothingly, slipping past your parted lips. Her kisses are like poison, your body willingly letting her take over your ability to think.

Not only that, but her hands inch lower, grabbing your ass and pushing your hips forward. The sudden friction against your clit makes you whimper as her jeans rub against your covered pussy.

"Your longing gazes weren't as subtle as you thought, baby." Wanda whispers, noticing the goosebumps appearing over your skin.

You whimper, hips rolling forward as she squeezes your hips harder. Wanda bites down on her lip, small whispers of encouragement falling past her lips like a sweet sin.

"Just like that, you're doing so good. Ride my thigh, pretty girl." She mumbles, eyes dark with desire as she watches your mouth fall open.

You are too far gone to respond to her kisses, head lolling to the side as she paints your skin in light bruises. Wanda sucks on your pulse point, feeling it hammer against her lips as she smiles against your flesh.

"Ohh, you're so pretty like this, grinding against me all desperate."

Wanda leans back, barely touching you as she lets you move against her all on your own. Hot air escapes your mouth, panting increasing with every movement.

"Open your mouth for me."

Parting your lips for her, Wanda pushes two fingers inside the depths of your mouth. You moan, tongue running over her fingertips as she smiles lazily.

"You love my fingers in your mouth, don't you? You make such a fucking mess on my thigh, dripping all through my jeans."

Her fingers push against the back of your throat, your gag reflex kicking in as she chuckles dryly. "We need to work on that, baby. We don't want you to choke on my strap next time."

The promise of a possible next time makes you whimper, sucking her digits deeper inside your mouth.

"That's right, darling. I want to see my strap disappear in that pretty mouth of yours, eyes becoming glassy with pleasure."

"Wouldn't you like that? Letting me use you; tell you everything to do so you don't have to do any of the thinking. Let all your thoughts melt away and only focus on me."

Her words only add fuel to the fire inside your stomach, heat rising to your face. Hiding your face in the curtain of your hair, Wanda clicks her tongue. She wants to see you, observe every tiny reaction in your expression.

She pushes the hair out of your face, her other hand moving you faster against her thigh. You can't hide anymore as she grabs your jaw, shaking her head. Face tinted pink, you bite down on your tongue.

"Aw, don't be shy now. I know you dreamed of this for far too long; wanting to be taken care of," Wanda leans forward, teeth grazing over your ear, "Being owned."

Moans fill the air, abdomen clenching, answering her words without muttering a single sentence. In a swift movement, Wanda pulls your dress over your head, throwing it carelessly on the ground. The cool air brushes over your overheated body, giving it some relief as her mouth attacks the newly exposed skin.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful." Her hands roam over the sides of your waist, inching towards your breasts. "You're mommy's pretty little girl, aren't you? All mine to play with, only mine."

The name makes a new wave of wetness rush downwards, lips trembling at the intensity of your emotions. Wanda's smile widens, lazily grinning at your reaction. Noticing the slight shift in your eyes, she helps you move faster against her thigh, fingers digging into your flesh.

"Yeah?"

Her fingers unclasp your bra, her teeth sinking into her lip as she watches your nipples harden in the cool air. You roll your hips faster against her thigh, shakily nodding.

You squeeze your eyes shut, her teasing expression too much for your poor heart to handle. "Only yours."

Her mouth sucks on your nipple, tongue flicking over the sensitive skin as she moans against your breast. The coil in your stomach tightens impossibly, the material of your panties ruined as your wetness leaks on to her jeans.

"I'm so close." You gasp, hips shuddering as it becomes hard to think clearly. "Please."

"You look so perfect falling apart for me." Wanda whispers, her fingers moving towards the place you need her the most. "Let go for me, come for mommy."

The moment her fingers rub over your sensitive bundle of nerves, you are gone for good. A strangled moan escapes your throat, eyes rolling into the back of your head as she swallows your sounds with her lips.

Wave after wave crashes down on you, hands desperately holding on to her shoulders. Your clit pulsates, body feeling light as a feather as her fingers run imaginary lines over your back.

"So desperate for me, aren't you, baby? You really need mommy inside you, you can't get enough of me?"

You can only nod, the aftershocks of your orgasm still clouding your mind. "Please."

The redhead runs her finger along your jawline, tingles following the imaginary line. "Prove it. Get on your knees and make mommy come in your pretty mouth; show me how needy you are."

On trembling legs, you lower yourself in front of her on the carpet, wide eyes staring up at her. Wanda slowly pushes her shirt over her head, revealing the lace bra hugging her full breasts perfectly.

If your throat wasn't dry by now, the sight before your eyes clearly makes the last of your oxygen run out.

"You're so beautiful, Wanda." You let out a long exhale, eyes slowly moving over the swell of her breasts.

Wanda lets out a disapproving sound, her fingers running over your chin as she pushes her thumb inside your mouth. "Mhm-mmh, that's not my name, baby girl."

You gulp, the taste of the word still electrifying your whole body. "I'm sorry, mommy."

"That's more like it. Go on, pretty girl, don't keep me waiting. I want to feel that talented tongue of yours on me."

Your hands shake a bit, reaching out for her hips and tugging the panties off her delicate legs.

"Show me how badly you need mommy to fuck you, y/n."

You lean closer, her musky scent surrounding you as your hands push her thighs apart. Excitement washes over you, breathing picking up once again. Wanda's hand disappears in your hair, pushing you closer at your tortures' slowness.

With a sudden shove, your mouth comes in contact with her drenched pussy, a gasp leaving your throat that makes vibrations rush through Wanda's body. Your tongue stimulates her clit, eyes closing in pleasure as her heavenly taste invades your senses.

Running your fingers through the length of her pussy, collecting her arousal over your digits, you hum against her. You slide one finger inside her heat, bathing in the way she tries to keep quiet.

"Fuck, you are my good girl, making me feel so good." Her lips fall apart, pupils blown wide as she watches you eat her out.

You let out an inaudible sound, not getting enough of her as you hold her hips steady with one hand. Her arousal coats your tongue, teasing her clit with your tongue.

Wanda licks over her bottom lip, staring at you with a small smile. "Use another finger, baby."

Her velvet walls clench harder around your fingers, her wetness painting your skin. You move your fingers faster inside of her, her sounds urging you on to bring her closer to the edge.

You smile, her body reacting to your every touch, feeling her twitch underneath you. Finding the spot that makes her legs shake around your head, Wanda can't suppress her sounds anymore.

Her moans grow louder, fingers digging painfully into your scalp. "Fuck, just like that. It feels so good, baby."

Her pussy grinds into your mouth, using you for her pleasure. The thought alone turns you on, her little whimpers like music to your ears.

"Such a good girl for me." Wanda praises you as you suck her clit harder, hips buckling into your mouth. "You're going to make mommy come so hard in your pretty mouth, y/n."

You look up at her body, catching her dark gaze as she rolls her hips faster against your face, seeking her high. Her chest heaves with her erratic breathing, a glow to her skin that makes your eyes twinkle.

"Fuck, I'm nearly there." Her voice comes out high-pitched, your stomach fluttering.

Her words give you the energy to pick up your pace, two fingers pushing in and out of her faster. She clenches around your fingers, making me add a bit of suction against her clit.

"Keep going, baby, don't stop," she moans.

"Come for me, mommy." You mutter against her pussy, sending her over the edge as the vibrations rush through her.

Wanda's mouth falls open, holding eye contact as her climax crashes down on her. You nearly come at the sight alone, her lips trembling.

Slowing down your movements, you press small kisses over the inside of her thigh. Wanda smiles, head leaning backwards as she lets out a small chuckle.

Heart clenching at the sight, you move your kisses up her stomach, over her breasts and sit back down on her lap.

"Was that good?" You ask, biting down on your lip as Wanda raises a brow at you. "Did I show you how badly I need you to fuck me?"

Wanda presses a lingering kiss against your mouth, moaning as she tastes herself on your lips. "Yeah, you did. You made mommy feel so fucking good, y/n."

You grin, a newfound cockiness taking over your mind as you watch her still drunken eyes hang on your lips. "So?"

She mirrors your expression, wetting her lip with her tongue. "So, mommy is convinced to fuck you so hard again that you can only scream my name."

You visibly shudder, shivers trailing over your naked skin. Wanda picks you up with ease, a surprised sound filling the air as your arms hold on to her shoulders. You are too busy pressing kisses over her neck, not noticing her reach down for an object on the couch. Carrying you to the nearby bedroom, she throws you on to the bed.

A small chuckle escapes your throat, staring at her shadow in the dimly lit room. Wanda unclasps her bra, throwing the last item on the floor, and moves above you. Her knees on either side of your body, she towers over your body.

Her red hair glows in the darkness in harmony with her emerald eyes, twinkling like jades. Wanda leans over your face, her mouth sealing yours in a needy kiss. You whimper as her hands begin to play with your breasts, trying to keep up with her movements.

"Are you ready for me, baby girl?" She runs her thumb over your clit, the contact like a featherlight kiss, as she doesn't put pressure on the spot. "Use those pretty words of yours."

You feel like you are lost in a dream, legs twitching as she touches you so barely. "Please, I- please."

"Please what, baby? You need your words, tell me what you want me to do with you." She buries her face into your face, sucking on your skin and leaving a hickey on the spot. "Tell mommy what you want."

You whimper, hips raising off the mattress. "Please, fuck me. I need you so badly, mommy."

"That wasn't so hard, wasn't it? I knew you would be good for me, darling." Wanda whispers, using the moment to push her fingers inside your welcoming heat. "Fuck, you're so wet."

Your walls clamp around her fingers, moans getting louder with each second. Breathing becomes faster, you soon become breathless as she moves her mouth over your chest, sucking marks all over your skin.

"You belong to me now, baby. No one is going to come near you again, do you hear me?" Wanda bites down on the underside of your breasts, your eyes watering at the slight pain.

"Y-yes."

You are a mess, her fingers pounding knuckles deep into you as Wanda inches her marks all over your body. With every thrust, Wanda brushes over your g-spot, your muscles clenching together.

Her hand moves to your lower abdomen, pressing down on the spot with a knowing glint in her eyes.

Eyes falling shut for a moment, needing to hold yourself back to not come right at this moment, you don't notice her hand reaching to the side.

Your eyes widen in surprise, feeling the lace fabric inside your mouth before your mind catches on to what she just did. The balled up panties muffle your moans, the taste of her arousal clinging to the material.

The satisfied smirk painting her pink lips as she watches your mouth stuffed with her drenched panties, a sight you will never forget.

"Oh, I love how desperate you sound for me. How long until you lose control, coating mommies fingers with your sweet cum?"

Only nonsense leaves your lips, legs trembling as she runs her fingernails over the inside of your thigh.

"Minutes? Seconds? I bet you will come so quickly for me; letting me ruin you until you're a crying little mess for me because you feel so good."

Wanda doesn't even seem to hold back anymore, fingering you relentlessly as she bites down on the junction of your neck. Every single touch pushes you faster towards orgasm, eyes beginning to sting at how much you feel.

"Come on, baby, I can feel how close you are. Be a good girl for mommy and come around my fingers."

Her fingers come up around your neck, pressing down on the sides as you let out a strangled moan. A muffled scream echoes through the bedroom, eyes squeezing shut as she continues her movements, prolonging your orgasm as long as possible.

You pant, an arm falling dramatically over your eyes as you try to catch your breath. Wanda chuckles, moving off your body as she gives you time to control your racing heart.

Rolling on to your side to face her, you give her a sneaky grin. "I believe this is my new favorite way to relieve some stress."

"I bet you do."

#wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda mcu #wanda x reader #wandamaximoff #wanda smut #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda marvel #marvel

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racfoam · 1 year

Text

A nynn AU where both Lily and James are fine, thank you very much but they are starting to lose hair with all the shit their daughter has to go through

“Uhhh, hey, hi,” greeted Harry, stuttering, shaking from head to toe, looking as though she’d been drenched in the rain. There was not a drop of rain in Godric’s Hollow tonight. “Sorry, I’m late. I got a —”

“We were so worried.” said Lily, frowning in a stern kind-of way.

Harry panted. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Tonks, Remus and Sirius went looking for you — we thought you were —”

The word kidnapped lingered in the air, unspoken.

“I’m insensitive, I’m irresponsible,” said Harry quickly, panting, beating Lily to it.

Harry gave her mum an exhausted cheek kiss to a stunned, a mwah sound when her puckered lips pressed to her mother’s cheek.

Harry huffed another breath, then finishing with equal lack of air, “And I’m hungry.”

Harry swept past her parents.

James and Lily looked at each other. Harry was stained in sweat. Her fringe clung to her forehead. Her disheveled jet-black hair was moist, as though she’d dipped it in olive oil. Her shirt was soaked a darker colour due to sweat. Sweat all over her.

Harry plastered her forehead on the surface of the fridge, catching a few breaths. She was eating the meatloaf with her fingers.

“Something is very wrong,” said Lily as she watched her daughter gather the leftovers she could find from the fridge, scouring like a wild raccoon.

“Yeah,” murmured James. “Nobody likes your meatloaf.”

The tower of gathered food Harry was holding swayed precariously. A cup of greek yoghurt tipped down.

Lily lunged to catch the cup of yoghurt on instinct. Faster than her mother, more accustomed to maneuvers against gravity, Harry caught the little packaged bowl in the clasp of her inner elbow.

“I’ve got it, mum,” said Harry.

Lily gawked. “She took the frozen macaroni and cheese.”

“I noticed that,” whispered James.

It was funny, in hindsight, how the married soulmate pair started off with worrying about Harry’s sanity after she came home seemingly on drugs and it devolved into them arguing over meatloaf.

James just saved his daughter’s arse by that comment. Lily was more focused on the fact James didn’t tell her he didn’t like her meatloaf than the fact their daughter was sweating, stuttering and being incoherent.

“Oh, by the way,” said Harry nonchalantly, pausing before the doors. “Dementors attacked me. Then Voldemort showed up and almost got me. I kicked him in the crotch and ran for it.”

They heard the doors click shut.

“Did you hear what I heard?” asked Lily, horrified.

“I’m still processing Harry kicked the Dark Lord in the crotch and bolted. That’s my girl.”

“James,” said Lily sternly.

A sigh from the wizard, defeated but accepting. “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.” confirmed Lily.

They both sighed.

Some Lily and Harry after the dementor attack

Lily knocked on the doors of her daughter’s bedroom.

“Come in!” called Harry.

Everything was decorated in Gryffindor colours and Quidditch posters. Some might wonder whether it was a girl's room at all. The Firebolt Sirius gifted Harry for Christmas last year after her Nimbus got destroyed by the Whomping Willow stood mounted on the wall horizontally along with quidditch posters. It was a large, slightly messy room, every side of it focused on something. The bed was very large, with red covers and a red pillow, with marshmallow-soft mattress, set beside the window. On the opposite side was the study desk. On another was a bookshelf where all books, magical and Muggle were stored. A few posters of Lynch decorated the wall (Harry had a big crush on him but would rather be Kissed by a dementor than admit it), paired with magical pictures of Harry with her friends. There were pictures of Harry and Lily alone, covered in baking flour, trying to bake a cake, grinning at the camera. The picture Harry held on her nightdesk was Harry's favourite; it was of Harry, Lily and James, both of them at each of her shoulders, all of them smiling at the camera.

The girl in turn was buried under the duvet, reading a book that had Lily's stomach drop. The title was You-Know-Who and All We Know About Him.

“Lo, Mum,” said Harry, closing the book. For someone who has been attacked by dementors and Voldemort, Harry looked rather relaxed. The fact she was only worried Lily more. Harry was growing far too used to danger.

“Do you want some hot chocolate?” Lily asked softly. “It's the best remedy for dementors."

Harry perked up at this. She popped out from under the cover, looking like a cat who smelled food. Or, in this case, hot chocolate.

“With marshmallows?” asked Harry hopefully, the glow returned to her vibrant, emerald eyes, practically vibrating with excitement. “And whipped cream?”

“Marshmallows and whipped cream,” confirmed Lily, smiling at her daughter. “Even Dark Lord defeaters need to eat.”

Harry flushed. Then, she bowed her head, staring down at the duvet and the book.

“Didn’t beat him,” Harry muttered bitterly. “I just bolted. Like a coward. Just like in the graveyard. The only good thing I'm good at is running away.”

Lily frowned. Slowly, after ascertaining it was all right by exchanging eye contact with Harry, she stepped into her daughter’s room, and gently clicked the doors shut.

“Now you stop right there, young lady. Coward? I see no cowards here.”

Harry’s shoulders slumped. “I see one in the mirror every day, mum.”

Lily understood then, what Harry meant with that. Harry had only put on a brave face for their sake. She was very much like her father. Even when shaken and scared, they both were courageous and brave to the point of stupidity.

“He said I should be in Slytherin how much I run to save my own neck.”

Lily sat on the side of Harry's bed. “Big words from a hypocritical maniac who failed to capture you twice and lost a fight against you. Twice. Look at me, Harry.”

Harry did so. Turmoil and uncertainty swirled around her eyes. Lily cupped her daughter’s cheeks.

“He is the coward, trying to kidnap a fourteen-year-old girl two months ago. He is the coward, sending dementors to weaken you and still failing to capture you. He is the coward, because he feels threatened by a teenage girl and is picking fights with you and thinking he commands you. You, Harry, are far from a coward. You are the bravest of us all.”

Harry's lips twitched. There it is. There is that Potter smile.

“Pretty sure Dad is braver,” muttered Harry.

“Oh, no. No, you have your father beat by a mile.”

Harry smiled now. A full smile.

“Hot chocolate in ten downstairs,” said Lily, kissing Harry's cheek and giving her a hug which Harry returned, relaxing into her embrace. “Before your dad eats all the marshmallows.”

Harry chuckled. “Right.”

Lily stood up, and headed to the doors.

“Mum!”

Lily turned around.

“Thanks,” said Harry, smiling.

“Anytime,” Lily replied, smiling back, and closed the doors of Harry's room, heading downstairs to make hot chocolate.

#nynn #not you not now au #snippets #my fic writing

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spaceyflowers · 1 year

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Do you have headcanons about lookism + htf characters that you haven't talked about in a post before?

OH yeah um. a lot, but some are def leaning towards ooc/very self indulgent LMAO so i'm sorry if u look at these and go "they would NOT do that" its true to me 💔

i'll list 5 for both series!

thank u for showing interest, and also anyone else is welcome to reply/reblog with their headcanons bc theyre always fun to see <3 !!

(btw sorry if i have shared some of these b4, if i did they were prob in my tags and i just forgot 😭)

LOOKISM

-mary kim; she has a muscular figure with a lil tummy ! naturally started losing weight and building muscle while doing judo as a sport and exercising in general. she's still a little sensitive about her weight due to bullying when she was younger and at a larger size, but shes happy where she is now. she'll beat ur ass if u shit talk her weight but if u do it behind her back, vin jin will step in if he catches u ^_^

-jay; hes selectively mute, it formed mainly from his social anxiety but also because he's naturally an introvert and was neglected during his developing childhood stages, so that snowballed into selective mutism ! (saying this just bc i like having reasons for everything rather than just make him not being able to talk a Unique Character Trait Thing) i also have a whole ass backstory idea for him but i'll only share if someone's interested 😭 tbh tho i might get too attached to it and ignore canon if his real backstory ever comes out LMAOOO

-leonn; i ABSOLUTELY fucking refuse to have the only woman in the architecture department be there just bc she has a crush on some fucking guy (not an insult to vasco, simply an angry comment directed towards gross heteronormativity and the shitty use of female characters). anyways she mistook her deep admiration for vasco as romantic feelings

-warren; has a blackhole stomach. everyone in hostel is wary about wasted food bc theyre,, not very well off to say the least so anything they dont like/cant finish they give to warren and he happily chows down ^_^ also yeah hes not very picky about what he eats !!

-vin jin; the easiest way to tell he's embarrassed is when his ears go red. (jace, too... for obvious reasons) its hard to catch him blush under his shades sometimes! this may or may not also be the reason he grew out his hair ^_^

HOW TO FIGHT

-snapper has become such a talented cameraman he is now great at secretly recording things to blackmail his friends LMAAOAO (obviously nothing serious tho, snapper's not evil 😭)

-rumi has a habit of petting people's heads affectionately 💖

-jisoo's ass is rotting in jail! ^_^

-taehun is a child magnet. you'd think he'd scare off kids but nope they all wanna play with him. and he acts like he hates this fact yet he always plays with the kids or at least entertains them a little (when hes not busy). altho he does hate this fact; babies are always staring at him (yknow that one science study or whatever that said babies stare at pretty people? yeah.)

-THE GIRLS ARE ALL BESTIES!!!!!! bomi, gyeoul, rumi, and gaeul <3 bomi is the calm collected smart one, rumi is also the smart one but more bubbly, gyeoul is the little goblin they kinda have to keep on a leash and gaeul's dumb of ass pure of heart <3

#lookism #viral hit #answers #mary kim #jay hong #leonn #warren chae #vin jin #snapper #rumi yeo #taehun seong #brainrotting #man. i should share my other big deal headcanons

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xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx · 2 years

Text

The Only Apology Acceptable - Frank Iero x Reader

Summary: After a shitty birthday you get surprised by your best friend Reader: can be read as any gender Warnings: swearing, hints at self-negelect, stress bc of exams (yes, that’s a warning now), poorer proofreading than usual, shitty friends Word count:3 948 A/N: Very self-indulgent. It’s not my birthday tho. I just never celebrate my actual birthday bc the date is shit, so I celebrate it today. Or… not. The part with my dad actually happened.

You should not be this upset, you told yourself. You were no five year old anymore, who considered her birthday the most important day of the year.

And it was not like you were all too keen to be the centre of attention either. In fact, it was the strange mixture of not wanting to be the centre of attention and the need for reassurance that people cared about you, which had led to you only half-heartedly suggesting to your college friends that you could all go out together tonight, to celebrate your birthday. Last week almost all of the people you hung out with (to call them friends would have been an overstatement) had agreed to your plan, but over the past few days more and more of them had cancelled. Which sucked, sure, especially when the one person you really wanted to see on your birthday, namely your best friend Frank, was halfway across the country, touring with his band.

To make the whole situation worse was the upcoming deadline for an essay you had to finish, one that was supposed to be a partner project, but your partner was… well, his standards were not as high as yours.

And, to make your birthday even shittier was the exam on the day after.

All of this would have been bearable, especially since Frank had shot you a message at exactly midnight, sending you a picture of him trying to form a heart with his fingers. Even that you mother, who lived two towns over, did not have time for you, was okay. You knew there were family matters she was involved in, family matters that you would have to deal with if she did not, so you were rather thankful, she took care of them.

She had called you in the morning, a few minutes before you were due to leave the house, wishing you a happy birthday. You could tell she was stressed and in a hurry, so you had assured her it was fine to cut the conversation short. By then it was almost time for class, and even though you knew you would have to spend more than eight hours in a stuffy, hot classroom, you somehow were looking forward to seeing your friends.

You knew there would be no surprise gifts or anything; the group you hung out with were not the kind of people to prepare something like that, and you were not the kind of person to receive gestures like that.

Nonetheless you had to admit it hurt a little, when none of them even mentioned your birthday. But well, you forgot birthdays often enough as well.

What did hurt was finding out that the whole group had planned on going out in the evening, to a nice new Japanese restaurant that had just opened the other month. You were sitting right next to them, as they discussed the plan for the evening, unable to help but wonder if they had cancelled on you for the restaurant.

You almost did not dare asking if you could come to, but you decided that if you did not, and they failed to invite you, your misery was on nobody but you. What you had not expected was their pitiful glances as they told you they had already reserved a table, and had not counted you in. That was the moment you decided that this birthday, like about all the others before too, sucked, and that you wanted it to be over as quickly as possible.

In your break you texted Frank, hoping he would tell you some absolutely crazy story from tour that might cheer you up, but by the time your classes ended, you still had not received a response from him.

On the way home you passed a supermarket and two bakeries, every time considering to buy a treat for yourself, a piece of cake, maybe a snack for the studying you still had to do, or a frozen pizza to make for dinner. But every time you felt too miserable for it, feeling like you would not enjoy it either way.

You had just taken you shoes off in the hallway of the small flat you were living in, when your phone rang. For the first time of the day excited, you answered, finding it was your father who had called. He was on a business trip, and wanted to tell you about his day. With not one word he mentioned your birthday, and you did neither. You knew he had his own workload and had probably forgotten which day it was, but when you hung up, after joking around with him for several minutes, you could not help the tears that began blurring your vision.

Not feeling like eating anything, you tried napping, but the whole time your mind circled around the exam you had to write the following day, and the essay you still had to edit.

So after almost ten minutes of restlessly laying on the couch you grabbed your mobile, realizing that Frank still had not answered, and eventually moved to your desk, beginning to revise the material for the exam one last time. It was hard staying focused, your mind again and again straying to your friends.

You wondered if the others were already at the restaurant, if any of them had remembered that it was your birthday today. Had they even felt the slightest bit bad for not having invited you, birthday or not?

And why was Frank not answering? During the day he never took longer than two hours to shoot a message back at you, but now it had almost been eight. Was he asleep? Their next show was half a week away, as you knew, so he could not be busy with that. What was he up to when they did not play shows? Did they go sightseeing? Had he even spared you another thought today?

After you had finished your last revision of the day, you grabbed an apple as a sorry excuse for dinner and began editing the essay.

You were halfway through, when you decided you had enough of the silence around you, and turned on the small, shitty TV in the corner of the room, letting it quietly play some crime show you were not interested in. You had made it to the last paragraph of your essay, when suddenly there was a ring at your doorbell, startling you terribly.

Wondering who might have the audacity to drop by, you got up from your crouched over position at the desk, and stretched. Maybe it was one of your neighbours. Many students lived in this apartment complex, since the rent was very cheap, so maybe one of them needed eggs or salt or something. As you made your way to the door, you quickly thought through the contents of the fridge. No, no eggs, you didn’t have eggs. Salt though, you had salt. Flour too, even baking parchment, if that was what the poor fellow came looking for.

When you opened the door, nothing could have prepared you for who was waiting on the other side.

Heavy backpack lazily flung over his shoulder, cuddled in an oversized sweater with his worn out jeans jacket on top, and black hair totally tousled, Frank shot you a wide grin as you opened the door, and stopped in your track.

“Happy birthday,” he laughed, quickly engulfing you in a hug. It took you a moment to process what had happened, your face already buried in the soft fabric of his hoddie, when you hugged back.

“What are you doing here,” you asked incredulously, pulling away from Frank, even though he had been all you had been thinking about for the last few hours.

“Well, I kinda had a feeling my best friend was having a shitty birthday, so I grabbed the first flight I could get, and decided to surprise you,” he shrugged, his eyes nervously watching your reaction, as if he was scared you would be upset with him.

“I- Frank- but don’t you have shows to play?”

“None that I can’t make it back to in time,” Frank answered casually, making you wonder how long exactly he had taken to make the decision to come see you. Probably barely long enough to find a flight here and back to the city he was scheduled to play at next.

“You’re impossible,” you sighed, “come in.”

“Already thought you wouldn’t offer,” Frank grinned, and bent down, picking something up from the floor. “For you.”

Stunned you took the small bouquet of flowers he had practically shoved in your face as he stepped past you into your flat. Sunflowers, red roses and baby’s breath were tied in a playful but also… romantic arrangement. You pushed the thought out of your head, since you had forbidden yourself years ago to hope for any romantic interest from Frank’s side. These were probably the only flowers he had found in the airport flower shop this late in the evening.

“Where is everyone?”

Frank had thrown his backpack onto the small bench in the hallway, taken off his shoes and jacket, and stepped into your tiny living room, which at the same time was your study, kitchen and dining room. Only the bath and the bedroom were separated, although the bedroom was barely big enough for your bed.

“Hm?”

Having closed the door, you had followed Frank, searching for a glass, in lack of vases, for the flowers.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to invite people over for a party or something?”

Frank looked around the room, noticing the washed and dried cereal bowl next to the sink, obviously from this morning, the left overs of the apple you had eaten earlier on a small plate next to your opened laptop, which displayed a document you had been working on, one that looked pretty official. Nothing whatsoever hinted at a party or even a small get together. No decorations, no glasses or beverages or snacks prepared. He already regretted having mentioned anything; it was obvious the plan had changed.

“Everyone cancelled on me,” you answered, filling the glass you had fetched with water and placing the flowers in it. “You didn’t check your phone, did you?”

“Died on me,” Frank nodded. “What happened?”

“I don’t know really,” you answered, walking over to your desk and saving the document you had worked on before clearing the table so you could place the flowers on it. With the little space you had, you opted for using your desk as dinner table. “Just… they all cancelled and today I found out they ended up having booked a table at this new fancy restaurant.”

“Why didn’t you ask to join,” Frank wondered, finally settling down on the sofa that stood against one of the walls, as he watched you rummage through your cupboard.

“Don’t think I didn’t,” you answered, pulling out a kettle and setting up water to boil. Frank grinned as he watched you grab some tea from the shelf. You always made tea for him when he came to visit, and he tried telling himself it was just in his head, but he was convinced your tea was the best he had ever had. “They said they hadn’t planned me in, so they didn’t have the seats.”

Behind your back you could hear Frank stiffening. “That’s asshole behaviour,” he snarled.

You did not have to turn around to know the expression he was wearing; furrowed brows, lips tightly pressed together. You knew his malcontent was not directed at you, and yet it always made you feel uncomfortable, seeing him upset like this.

He was protective over you sometimes, you knew that, but the way he stared at a spot outside the window now, made your heart clench. All day you had felt ignored and unloved, but Frank, with one single expression expressing his anger at you having been treated unfairly made up for the whole shitty day.

“It’s okay,” you tried reassuring him, waiting for the water to boil, mainly to see his face soften back into the beautiful smile you loved to see on him.

“It’s fucking not,” Frank disagreed getting up from the sofa. “That’s absolute bullshit! How dare them!”

“That’s just how life is,” you shrugged.

“No it’s not. At least it’s not supposed to be.” Frank reached over your shoulder, flicking the switch of the kettle off.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re going out, and I’m telling these people exactly what I think about them leaving my best friend hanging,” Frank declared, already marching into the hallway to put his shoes back on.

“The fuck you are!”

Grabbing him by the back of his shirt, you brought him to a stop.

“Why not?”

“You can’t just march into that restaurant, and start beef with some college students!”

“Again: why not? You deserve better than to be treated like this! If I hadn’t randomly decided to jump into a plane this morning, you’d probably still be sitting over that paper or whatever you were writing. All alone. On your birthday!”

For a moment you stared up at Frank, at his black hair hanging in wild strands into his forehead, at his hazel eyes flashing passionately in the dim light of your flat, at the way his jaw was clenched angrily. And just for a moment you allowed yourself to imagine the scenario of Frank waltzing into a fancy Japanese restaurant with all his unrestrained, by band- and punk-life sharpened blades of anger, and telling your college mates just exactly what he thought of them letting you down. It truly would be a sight to behold.

“We don’t even know if they’re still there,” you argued finally.

For a few more seconds Frank stared at you, before he deflated.

“Fuck, okay.” He shook his head, giving his shoes next to the door a long look. “Fine, you win. But only under one condition.”

Expectantly you raised your eyebrows.

“You tell me what kind of take-out you want, and let me order.”

For a moment you felt tempted to tell him you did not want to eat anything. Earlier in the evening, when you had forced down the apple, you had felt sick at the thought of food, but now you realised just how hungry you were.

“Italian,” you decided spontaneously, knowing there would be no point in arguing with Frank over what to order.

“Then I know just the place,” he grinned. Placing both hands at your shoulders, he maneuvered past you to reach your phone station, but not without pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

It was over quicker than you had time to register it, his lips warm against your skin one moment and gone the next, but the gesture made your heart beat faster, and your cheeks heat up.

While Frank dialled the number to whatever place he seemed to have memorized it from, you returned back to the kettle with water, turning it back on, before you turned off the TV, which had still been running.

A few minutes later Frank came back to join you in the living room, and settled back down on the sofa.

While you were waiting for whatever Frank had ordered, you shared the tea you had prepared, and talked about what you had experienced in the time since you had last seen each other. Frank obviously had the far more interesting stories, having travelled around the country and all, but he was curious and listened to everything you had to say, his attention on you feeling intense, as he watched you gesture around.

It turned out it had been a wise decision to let Frank order. The delivery service dropped off several small boxes with different kinds of pastas, two huge pizzas, one of which your absolute favourite, drinks, and a box with tiramisu. Frank insisted on paying, basically battling you in the doorway about who got to pay, making the elderly Italian man who had dropped off the food raise his eyebrows at you. You lost the fight quickly, and were back on your way to the living room, balancing the food as good as possible in your arms, as you overheard the two men talking in the hallway.

“I didn’t know you had a sweetheart, Frank,” the old man teased.

“Well, you don’t always know everything,” came the reply that made your heart stutter. He hadn’t denied it. And even if this meant technically nothing, it still reminded you off the kiss he had pressed to your forehead not half an hour ago.

You had barely piled all the boxes onto your desk, when Frank joined you, and together you opened everything and spread it out over the small couch table, so you could sit comfortably while eating.

It felt like it was way past midnight, but the clock only showed 10pm, when you had finished the tiramisu. There were some leftovers from the pasta dishes, and neither Frank nor you had finished your pizzas, since you had strategically calculated enough space in your stomach for the desert, so you packed everything up, stored the leftovers in your formerly almost empty fridge, and cuddled back up on the sofa.

It was not unusual for you and Frank to sit close, but now he had pulled your legs over his lap, and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, allowing you to rest your head against his. You were not sure what he was thinking as he drummed small rhythms against your thigh, or why he had pulled you in like that, but after such a disappointing day as today, you really needed his comfort, really needed him. He smelled of cheap airport coffee and his shampoo, which you loved so much, and his hair softly tickled your face.

“Don’t you have an exam tomorrow,” he suddenly remembered, pulling away a little, and thus your moment of peace was destroyed.

“Thanks for reminding me,” you whined, dropping your head to his shoulder.

“At what time do you need to get there,” he asked, continuing to drumming his fingers against your thigh in a rhythm only he could make out.

Trying to remember the time you answered him.

“So you should get up by… ten? Latest. Maybe we should get you to bed,” Frank thought out loud.

“That’s still more than nine hours,” you defended, as you glanced at the clock. It had been 10pm when you had cleaned up the table but now it was almost quarter to one. Had you really spent this much time cuddling with Frank? It had felt like minutes, not long enough anyway.

“But I need you to be well rested tomorrow, so you can give it your all,” he gently nudged his nose against your head, coaxing you to look up at him.

You wanted to answer, to talk back, but the words died in your throat. Frank’s face was so close to you that you could see every tiny freckle, even in the dim, orange light of you old lamp. His eyes studied your face closely, as you just stared at him, unable to look away or think of anything to say or do.

And in the next moment his lips were pressed to yours, making your breath hitch. Instinctively you brought up your hands to his face, cupping it, as he kissed you first gently, then more demanding. You had half a mind to wonder why he had kissed you, why he kept kissing you, too focused on how soft his lips were, on how sweet he tasted, with the last traces of cream and coffee from the tiramisu lingering on his tongue as he licked against your lips. You gave in, throwing all the resolutions of the past years out of the window. Every thought of ‘he doesn’t like you like that’ and ‘you’re just friends, you shouldn’t think about him this way’ evaporated into thin air as he kissed you deeper, pulled you closer. Your hands were wrapped into his soft curls, the only remaining thought in your head being that you never wanted this moment to end, when suddenly he froze up, and pulled away.

“Shit, fuck, I’m sorry,” he swore, turning his face away from you as well as possible with you halfway sitting in his lap. “Fuck, god damn it.”

“Frankie?”

Your voice was rough, and your heart hammering in your chest, as you tried turning his face back to you, but he resisted your gently touch.

“Did I- did I do something wrong,” you asked carefully, refusing to move away from him already, since he made no attempt of pushing you off. Instead he covered his face with his hands, but not before you could see that he was blinking rapidly.

He laughed a joyless laugh. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he mumbled into his palms. “But I messed up fucking big time.”

You waited for him to elaborate, but when he did not, you gently brushed one of your hands through his hair, the other over his fingers that still covered his face.

“Is this about the kiss,” you asked, and for a long moment you expected him not to answer, before he eventually looked up at you.

His eyes were red rimmed, but there were no tears, only tightly pressed together lips as he carefully scanned your face.

“I fucked up, I shouldn’t have kissed you,” Frank explained, breaking your heart a little. “Just because I’ve wanted to do this for so long doesn’t mean you-“ he swallowed, “If you want me out of here, I completely get that. I wouldn’t want some creep who just threw himself at me-“

“You’re no creep, Frank, shut the fuck up,” you interrupted him.

For yet another moment you just looked at each other, before he spoke up again.

“I’m sorry for kissing you,” he mumbled. You nodded, resisting the urge to tell him that you had not minded at all, might have even asked him to kiss you if you had known he had wanted to. “How can I make this up to you?”

His hazel eyes were full of sincerity, and yet the awkwardness of him apologizing for overstepping a boundary while you were still seated in his lap did not escape either of you.

“Well,” you gently brushed you hand through his hair again, his curls silky under your fingertips, as you remembered what he had said, that he had wanted to kiss you for a long time. “The only apology I think I can accept is another kiss.”

You watched as Frank processed your words, as their meaning reached through to him, and he perked up.

“You sure,” he asked, his eyes flickering to your lips, watching them as you smiled.

“Absolutely. A kiss and nothing else will do. You’re not the only one who has wanted this for too long.”

It was as if your words had broken a wall because Frank quickly leant forward, once more pressing his lips to yours as you giggled and pulled him in closer.

“Wait, wait-“ This time Frank did not pull away completely, just far enough to be able to whisper against your lips. “This is not a onetime thing right? ‘cause I don’t think I could take it if it were.”

“No-uh,” you shook your head slightly, “you’re stuck with me for as long as you’ll have me.”

“I see nothing to complain about then,” Frank smiled, bringing his lips back against yours, and kissing you again with all the love he had not dared showing you before.

Tagged:

@alexstyx @recommendedattheprice @jayloverthe3rd @robinruns @lookalivefrosty @butterflycore @vamp-void @angelevansfalls @omgsuperstarg @reinaeru @deadlovers @kpopchangedmylifesstuff

#frank iero x reader #frank iero x reader fluff #frank iero x you #frank iero fanfiction #frank iero fanfic #my chemical romance fanfic #my chemical romance fanfiction #my chemical romance imagine #my chemical romance imagines #frank iero imagines #frank iero imagine #fluff #friends to lovers #Happy Birthday

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writer-in-theory · 2 years

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learn from the best — spencer reid

request: i wish you would write a fic where spencer helps his teen daughter (reader) study or teaching her something new <3 summary: spencer’s kid has a major exam coming up, and who better to help them prep than him? pairing: dad!spencer reid & gn!reid!reader category: fluff content warnings: language word count: 0.9k

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“Why the fuck is this so hard!”

The second you threw your pen across the table, you knew you were in for it. Of course, maybe it was worth it considering the extensive math problems that lay in wait for you. Maybe you’d rather your dad take you out instead of the math homework.

But no, while he was looking at you he didn’t seem mad. In fact, he might’ve seemed more amused than anything which might’ve been more terrifying.

“Math was my least favorite subject in school too,” Spencer admitted, moving on the couch to sit closer next to you. “What is it this time?”

“Fucking algebra,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest in frustration.

“Hey, once was okay but keep the cursing to a minimum,” your dad chided, not sounding particularly upset but you wouldn’t want to change that. “I get you’re upset. It’s tough not knowing how to do something.”

“It’s easy for you to say, you probably were never frustrated over homework in your life.”

You’d heard the stories about your dad—Dr. Spencer Reid, child prodigy and overall complete genius. Your Uncle Derek had told you enough stories of cases that were solved in part because of Spencer’s extensive knowledge about, well, everything. Every adult in your life had always told you that no one expected you to do exactly what your dad had done, but how could they not? How could he not be at least a little disappointed that his kid wasn’t as brilliant as he was?

“Y/N, just because I know things now doesn’t mean I always knew them,” Spencer explained gently, taking the time to look over your homework sheet. “Do you know why I have a Ph.D. in math?”

“Why?”

“Because there was a time that I couldn’t do it.” And that well, that didn’t exactly match with everything your family had told you, did it? Honestly, you couldn’t imagine a single thing that your father couldn’t do—except maybe that time you wanted to learn skateboarding and you had to ask your Aunt JJ for help instead.

“Why would you get a degree in something you were bad at?” you asked, taking the bait you saw waving right in front of you.

“So I could get better at it,” he explained. “I knew if I never pushed myself, I’d never try to work at it, and I’d never get better. I wanted to learn more about it, so I put in a lot of extra work. Sometimes that doesn’t work, but this time it did. Math is still not my favorite area of study, but I feel a lot more comfortable with it than before.”

“Okay, I get it. Practice makes perfect or whatever, right?” you chuckled, taking the page from your dad and sliding your pencil over it again as if to recheck your old work.

“If you want to think of it like that, then yes.”

“Well, there’s not enough time to practice now. This homework is due tomorrow morning and I’m nowhere near finishing it,” you groaned.

“Then let’s get to work. You’ll get it done,” he told you, leaning over so he could look at the first empty problem on the sheet. “So it looks like here we’re working with two variables and two equations. What do you think you could do to simplify that?”

“I know you have to solve for one variable and then you can input, but the way I’m doing it is so complicated.”

“Try looking at the other equation to solve first. That would give you a pretty simple equation for ‘y’ that you can plug into the other,” your dad explained, and you hadn’t thought of solving it that way before. Even taking a quick look showed that this would indeed be much easier to solve than the way you’d been trying before. “Make the equations work for you. If one way of solving it is too complex, try another that works better for how you think.”

“I guess that makes sense,” you answered, pencil scribbling down your thoughts before they left your brain. Feeling far more confident about tackling the rest of the sheet, you set it down for a break and hugged your dad tightly. “Thank you.”

“That’s what I’m here for, Sweet Pea,” Spencer answered quickly, hugging you back before moving back across the couch to return your space to you. “Do you need my help some more or do you have this?”

“I can do it now, thanks,” you told him, beaming with pride as you turned your attention back to the homework. It still took you longer than it took some of your friends, and occasionally you’d have to turn back to your dad and ask for another hint on how to approach a particularly difficult problem, but that was okay. Your dad would always be there when you needed help, and you would continue to make your own path when it came to schoolwork.

And that was okay too.

GENERAL TAGLIST

@samuel-de-champagne-problems @silverhetdanes @ssawonderland @reidsbookclub @katymarie @mrsobrien888 @writingquillsandpainpills @fightingdragonswithreid @lil-stark @raythefaye @stillsleepynat @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @givemeth @foxy-eva @lilibet261 @exhaleli @darkeunology @nomajdetective @meggie-m00n @delicatespencer @serenity-lattes @goldentournesol @rexorangecouny @sultrypotter @reliefplease @mente-sindescanso @jj76889 @luna-novae @folkreid @nightmarewasteland @luredwithpretzels

ONESHOT TAGLIST

@natashxromanovfreads @nano-noa

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #reid!reader #spencer reid & reader #spencer reid & reid!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #dad!spencer #spencer reid self insert #dr spencer reid #jay writes in theory

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galacticwildfire · 4 months

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Leading on from something I reblogged earlier, nothing inspires me more than the fact that the majority of people who partake in my university course are aged probably 40 and over. I live at home due to financial and health reasons and study online. Due to this I've always been hung up on not having that typical uni experience, that's until I actually see that the varse majority of people enrolled aren't fresh out of high school or even their early twenties. They're people with kids and who are coming out of twenty year long careers or longer and studying their passions for no reason other than the fact it brings them happiness. It reminds me that life doesn't end at twenty one and that this ticking clock is just something of my imagination that this hustle cultures put there.

I've had this idea in my head my entire life I'd go into academia, now it's looking like that isn't going to happen both because of grades and because I've realised it just isn't quite for me after three years now of study. I've discovered I have multiple chronic illnesses that I'm learning to live with, mental and physical, after struggling for years without knowing why. My parents are probably going to split up this year and I've learned that I'd rather be single than force myself into a miserable marriage for the sake of societal expectations and to have a marriage, house and kids by the age of 25 like my parents did.

I'm also coming to realise and learn now that if people who have grandchildren are discovering and pursuing their passions then it's never too late to change paths and find what makes you truly happy. It's why I love 90's television, because so many sitcoms are based on people in their mid twenties and thirties finding their way when society is telling me in 2024 that because I'm twenty one without thousands in savings and a serious relationship that I've already failed at life. Watching the nanny also made me realise that I probably won't find myself for a long time to come, that I'll have shitty jobs and shitty relationships and that I'll come out better for it when I'm in my thirties and later. That university isn't the prime of my life despite what I've been told and that it's only just really begun.

I live in a small town where all my immediate friends are in serious relationships and having babies whilst I'm still trying to navigate how to live with these illnesses. I spent five years on and off heavy psychiatric medications whilst being undiagnosed because of the stigma surrounding bpd, hell I'm still officially undiagnosed despite about five doctors having told me that I have it but that they won't or can't officially diagnose me. My old psychologist wanted to diagnose me at seventeen but the governments mental health team refused because they wanted to be able to remove me from the system. Now at twenty one it's on my file as a prognosis and at this point it'll stay that way since I cannot physically access the resources to treat it and doctors don't want to be liable for not providing the proper care. As a result I've been put on medications that have done more damage than good, I've had psychotic and nervous breakdowns that I never really fully recovered from. I was mentally sharper at 13 than I am at 21 due to the medications having affected my memory and cognitive function, and I'm only just beginning to learn to live with that.

Only in the past month I've discovered pcos has been a contributing factor to this with my hormones being completely fucked. I gained twenty kg's, lost fifteen, and then gained the twenty back because of pcos, insulin resistance and quetiapine whilst being told I simply needed to eat less (i was bulimic and starving myself for days at a time). When I began univeristy it was a three year degree I convinced myself I'd finish in just over two years by taking extra classes, now It's going to take nearly four years because of my health problems. I'd planned on doing an honours and then a masters, it looks like I'm going to do neither and I'm learning to be okay with that.

Writing is what I plan to make a career out of, and now as I'm finishing my degree I'm aiming to finish my own original manuscript with the tools I've learned since writing is the one thing I never tire of. I didn't take a creative writing degree because of the pressure from people around me, but I spent years researching history to the point I'd be confident writing historical fiction and screenplays along with articles for public consumption rather than brutal academic criticisms. I've often said studying history at a university level's killed so much of my passion for it because it seems to discourage rather than encourage further study due to the cultural nature of academia.

It's brutal and I've seen so many masters students almost quit, or just quite entirely, because an asshole professor's torn years worth of work to shreds whilst another professor praised them for the exact same piece of work because it's so damn subjective. But because one singular person decided they didn't agree with their thesis or didn't think it was important, they've been all but blocked from continuing on the pathway they've spent years pursuing and unfortunately most people don't have the money to support themselves to retake an entire course because a person who had free university fifty years ago took a dislike to them.

I'm at the point in my life where I'm getting answers to my medical problems and focusing on balancing those and learning to live with them whilst accepting that the plans I made at 17 aren't going to turn out as I'd planned, but that it's okay because I have years to be where I want to be and that life doesn't end because I hadn't gotten there at 21. In ten years I might discover something else that brings me joy that I'm passionate about, hell in thirty years, and I might just change course then as well and be one of those people in my classes who have accomplished so much in their lives and have decided to go and pursue those passions instead of following the career they were forced to choose at eighteen and expected to stick with their entire lives. I'm finally learning that I need to curate my life and career around what is reasonable for myself instead of forcing myself to live up to other peoples expectations.

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