#this is the post i already had typed up i hope it passes muster

[sideblogforweirdshit]

Whump Reference Post for Fingernail Removal Torture

 Hi whump writers of Tumblr! I recently made a little introduction post in which I said I’d be making reference posts. This is one I already had typed up, because for some reason this was the first thing I thought of.

There are no images attached, but I’m putting the rest of the post under a readmore since the majority of the content is semi-graphic written description of the how-to’s and wherefore’s and such of fingernail removal torture.

To be clear: I will be going into as much depth as I possibly can without using images. The content of this post will be purely academic. There will be no artistic liberties taken. This post is meant to be as accurate to (and descriptive of) a real-life situation as possible.

I hope some part of this post eventually winds up being a helpful resource for someone!

1) Not as painful as it’s made out to be

-It's painful, but definitely not to the extent it’s shown in movies or whatnot. A lot of the "pain" comes from the shock factor of seeing your body without something it’s always had, as well as the inherent "wrongness" that comes with experiencing a part of your body being removed.

2) There is very very thin film of skin between the fingernail and the finger.

-If one is careful in removing the fingernail by peeling it back slowly, one can preserve this thin piece of skin. -If one pulls the fingernail back quickly and without taking care, this thin film will rip, and the nail will pull away with bits of flesh attached.

3) The flesh under the nail will be vertically striated.

-If one uses the peel-back method, and is careful to not let the thin film of skin between the nail and the flesh rip, the skin/flesh underneath the nail will be as visibly striated as the fingernail itself. If you look closely at your fingernail right now, you’ll see that there are many tiny grooves from the tip of your nail to the base. This is true for all human fingernails. If the nail is peeled back with sufficient care, those striations will be echoed on the skin underneath the nail.

4) The  “peel entirely off” method versus the  "peel back and then stop" method versus the "pull out entirely" method.

-The “peel entirely off” method is how I will refer to the method of grasping firmly the tip of the fingernail in some sort of vice (usually pliers) and then peeling it backwards, moving the pliers from the nail at the tip of the finger towards the hand itself. Using this method, the nail will remain firmly grasped in the pliers the entire time. The movement of the pliers only stops when the base of the nail is ripped entirely out of the finger. This will necessarily result in ripping out a fair bit of skin past the cuticles, as the technical base of the nail (aka “nail matrix”) is generally around half a centimeter hand-wards past the cuticles (and follows the curve of the nail, so is deeper than the cuticles as well). Due to the nature of skin, I would expect a tear reminiscent of an extremely deep hangnail that goes from the base of the cuticles to at least halfway between the first and second knuckle (and at most goes to the second knuckle). In this case, it is not guaranteed that the nail will grow back. There is a chance it’ll come back, but there is also a chance that the nail matrix is permanently damaged and will not be able to grow a new nail. Since every human is different, there’s not an exact science to determining where a person’s nail matrix is before it’s ripped out. A (very) general rule of thumb is to follow the curve of the existing fingernail, and draw a point on that curve before it hits bone. Obviously, this is extremely subjective.

-The “peel back and then stop” method is how I will refer to what is essentially the previous method, but one stops before the nail-ripping goes past the cuticle and snips off the peeled part, leaving a milimeter or so of fingernail existing on the nailbed. In this case, it is assured that the nail matrix is undisturbed, and the fingernail will grow back. This is the method I will assume is taken for the future steps

-The “pull out entirely” method is how I will refer to the situation where one grasps the protruding part of the nail firmly, and applies force away from the hand and in the direction the finger points. In this case, there’s a large chance that the nail will rip. This depends largely on the care taken with the pulling object (pliers, usually) to grab the nail exactly parallel with the sides of the pliers. If any part of the pliers digs into the nail at a singular location, this will create a point at which pressure will build up, and the nail will likely rip at this location. The strength of the individual’s nails also affects the ripping. The individual’s nail strength can vary based on nourishment as well as on a general person-to-person basis. Personally, I do not recommend this method.

-If one wants to make the removal definitely permanent, there’s the possibility of peeling it back all the way down and out, and then chemically burning where one assumes the nail matrix is. (Some serious irl hikers do this to their toenails on purpose, to reduce the chances of getting ingrown toenails from being laced into hiking boots for days on end.) Removing the nail permanently will obviously reduce the opportunity to peel it off again, but will give a permanent Horrific Aspect to the victim.

5) For the first three days, the exposed flesh will be painful.

-The entire tip of the finger will be a constant deep and throbbing pain. Any deviation from this norm will be an increase in pain, never a decrease (save medication or an ice-bath-for-full-minutes immersion to the point of numbness).

-Any contact with the exposed nailbed will increase the pain. Knocking the exposed flesh against anything, even extremely gently, will result in a visible bright red welt under the thin layer of skin (bright red on light skin only! on darker skin, the welt will still be visible, but will show as a dark red-brown). It is a visual similar to an extremely tiny, non-protruding blood blister. Knocking the nailbed against something less gently will result in fully scraping off that delicate outer layer of skin.

-Using the finger for anything will be painful (though not unbearably so), and it may even be painful to bend the finger at all.

-Any moisture on the exposed flesh (including anything from regular water to antibiotic ointment) will hurt a lot. This will intensify the throbbing at least twofold across the entire nailbed, and will also result in an amount of stinging as if one had just realized one had been stung by a bee.

6) For treatment and healing thereof (if quick healing is desired)

For those first three days, any bandaid application is inadvisable -The exposed flesh will be so tender and vulnerable that any bandaid (even the non-stick kind) will stick to the exposed flesh and rip it upon removal. I can only assume this is in part due to the curvature of the finger, which means that any wrapping-around type bandaid will inherently put pressure on the nailbed, resulting in sticking.

-To promote healing, the first three days should be without any sort of covering on the wound.

After the first three days, a scab will form. -At this point, the pain will be much less. it might be uncomfortable to bump the nailbed into objects, but it will not be the same pain as in the first three days.

-The wound will also be much less sensitive to moisture.

-When the scab starts to crack (usually a vertical crack), one should apply antibiotic ointment and a bandaid. At this point in the proess, it is desired for the scab to remain as consistently moist as possibly. This will help the scab fall off when it is ready to do so.

-At this point, the finger can be used normally (within reason) without much (if any) pain.

After two or three days with the bandaid covering, the scab will start to fall off.

-One may expedite this process if one is careful.

-At this point, the skin on the nailbed is sensitive to the touch, but not to the point of pain.

-There will be some dry, loose skin around the edges of the nailbed.

-The previously visible striation will no longer be there.

-Pressure on the exposed nailbed will not be necessarily painful, but it will feel decidedly Odd. Though not painful, It will be an extremely sensitive area.

-The nailbed will be a delicate pinkish color.

Around a week after the initial scab falls off, there will appear to be another scab. It will be a relatively thin layer of dry, dead skin.

-If the nail is allowed to grow normally, it is likely that it will cover this second scab before it has the chance to fall off.

-If the stub of the fingernail is trimmed routinely, it is possible for the scab to fall off, leaving only relatively smooth unblemished skin where the nailbed is. This skin will be roughly the same color and texture as the skin on the tip of the finger. 

7) The rate at which fingernails grow back is extremely slow

-The average growth rate is about 3.5 milimeters per month. There are several factors that can cause this to vary:

-Fingernails on the dominant hand grow back faster than the nails on the non-dominant hand.

-Fingernails grow back faster than toenails.

-Nails grow back faster in warm weather than in cold weather.

-Depending on the nail and the aforementioned conditions, one can expect a total regrowth time of anywhere from three to six months (or more).

8) Life Without Fingernails

-Fingernails affect a large part of our everyday lives. We mostly use them when we’re manipulating objects with our hands, and we use them to scratch. It doesn’t seem like a lot, but it’s a lot. It’s hard to explain just how weird it is to not have fingernails to someone who’s never experienced it, but here goes:

-Fingernails are the Hard Backs used to brace our fingers against a hard shell when we manipulate something with our hands. If you pinch your fingers together right now, you’ll see a white band along the top of your fingernail. This is where the pressure from the pinching goes; it’s braced against your nail.

-Picking something up without fingernails feels extremely odd the first few hundred times you do it. It takes a long time to get used to it.

-Writing is even worse. Without the hard shell backing your fingers, the pencil tends to slip out of your grip more often. If you usually have long enough fingernails that you balance your pen/pencil on them, you’re extremely likely to have the pencil completely slip out of your grip multiple times a sentence.

-You don’t realize how much you unconsciously scratch itchy parts of your body until you no longer have the ability to do so. If you’re only missing a few nails, you have to consciously adjust your hand so that you can scratch with the existing ones. If you’re missing all of them, you have to actively find an external object to alleviate the itch.

Some places on the body one can scratch with their teeth, but for most places, one needs to either find an “itch stick,” or rub that part of their body on something scratchy. A lot of clothing is scratchy enough to work for this. One needs to learn how to vary the pressure so that one can alleviate the itch without tearing through the skin or scratching themselves.

Pros:

-Body horror

Fingernail removal is a more mentally significant mutilation than cuts or burns, if only because it draws on the "that was there and now it's not" aspect of body horror.

-Can be inflicted more than once

Since fingernails grow back, they can be removed again and again and again. Though it may take some time for the nails to regrow, it isn't even close to the type of permanent that’s chopping off a finger or a toe.

-Helplessness

Since it takes a few days for the nailbeds to heal enough to be able to use one's fingers, a complete removal of all fingernails will take away one's ability to use their hands. Even after this initial period of extreme sensitivity, the lack of fingernails is something most people aren’t prepared for. The previous section explaining how fingernails affect daily life is significant here.

 Cons:

-Can’t repeat often.

Once a fingernail is off, it's not coming back for at least three months (likely longer). It doesn't have the relatively quick reset time that burns or cuts do.

-Relatively short amount of time in pain

All of the pain is in the first few days. It is inconvenient afterwards, but there is little to no pain at this time.

-Amount of care needed

One needs to be relatively careful inflicting this. Fingernails are not as resilient as you'd think, and the likelihood of them ripping before you can finish ripping them off is fairly large if you're not being careful.

If you have a short-tempered or impatient whumper, this might not be their particular wheelhouse.

 Conclusion

Overall, I’d say that the effectiveness depends entirely on the desired result. The time it takes for the fingernails to regrow versus the amount of time in which the subject is in pain is not a very productive ratio, so if you’d want your whumper doing a particular torture regularly, I wouldn’t recommend this.

However, if the whumper’s goal is to appeal to the body horror aspect without permanent damage, this is a great option. The fact that it takes nails so long to regrow gives the victim a sense of horrified freakishness. It also has the added benefit of reducing the victim’s maneuverability far after the fact.

The semi-visible nature of this method of torture can be effective if one wishes to horrify characters outside the whumper/whumpee relationship. You don’t immediately look at other people’s hands when you meet them, and as such it might take a while for outside characters to notice the lack of fingernails (especially if they’re past the three day mark). But once they notice, it will be hard to look away.

#whump #whump writing #whumpblr #whump community #whump reference post #this is the post i already had typed up i hope it passes muster #i tried to be as exhaustive as possibly because i KNOW there's so many details one needs when writing a thing #investigative journalism but with injuries that's us here at sbfws #ummm i don't know what to tag this #if y'all want a trigger warning tag for this stuff please let me know? #or if y'all want to be added to a tag list also please let me know?? #also also please feel free to make specific post requests if y'all want? #i don't know how timely my responses to them will be but i will FOR SURE try to get to them as soon as i can #just like #if you're a whump writer who fuckin hates having to do research into different types of injuries hit me up! #(especially the weird injuries) #(fingernails are all fine and good but i thrive on the Weird Stuff There's Barely Any Research On you know) #(I really like researching weird niche stuff) #(you'll be doing me a favor if you give me something Decidedly Odd to fixate on) #nail gore #nail whump #hand whump

[munsonslove]

Open Drawers

(18+ only)

summary: You forget to close the drawer to your nightstand and your best friend accidentally finds your vibrator.

wordcount: 4.3k

tags/warnings: fem!reader, slight softdom!eddie, friends to lovers, smut, use of sex toys, praise kink (good girl), very slight degradation (he calls you a slut once), pet names (sweetheart, princess), spit used as lubricant, edging, overstim, no use of y/n

a/n: i teased this fic a while ago, sorry it took me a bit to actually post it but i hope you like it anyway!! requests are open and much appreciated, if i know someones actively waiting for me to write something for them i’ll be more likely to not spend a whole ass month on it lmao

It’s been weeks of torture. Ever since Eddie found out about your ‘little secret’ he’s refused to let it go, bringing it up as often as he can just to humiliate you further. It was cruel behavior, especially from the man you consider your best friend. Though you can’t be too surprised, considering he’d always had an affection for teasing you. In the past it had always been rather playful and innocent- maybe just ever so slightly suggestive- but you were generally able to ignore his flirtatious comments and retain your close relationship (no matter how much they made your pining heart flutter). It had been almost a month since everything changed.

Nobody was home when you returned from your shift, and inspecting the refrigerator revealed a note left to you from your roommates stating that they would be gone for the rest of the night. The news was passed along through phone call to your best friend before you even changed out of your work clothes, and within the hour Eddie had arrived at your door with a six-pack of beer and a relaxed grin. He entered without knocking (having been given a spare key from the day you moved in) and found you sprawled out on the couch, movie just starting with a large bowl of popcorn already made. You don’t even bother sparing him a glance up as he kisses the crown of your head before plopping down directly on top of you.

You try and fail to kick him off. Admittedly you may have been able to muster more strength for the task if you hadn’t been laughing at his typical antics. Failure becomes even more set in stone when his hands find their way to your sides and you dramatically call out “uncle, uncle!” in hopes that he will mercifully cease his relentless tickling. Thankfully, he does seem to be feeling benevolent this evening and climbs off, allowing you to sit up as he takes his place next to you. After ripping a can from its plastic rings, you pop open the tab and take a sip while Eddie grabs fistfulls of popcorn and shoves them into his mouth with a total lack of manners. You conclude that something is definitely wrong with you for finding this somehow endearing, and you gaze at him longingly until he turns to you with a mock-disgruntled eye roll. 

“John Hughes?”, he complains, mouth still half full, “Can’t we watch something else?”

You smirk at his predictability. “I knew we wouldn’t make it past the opening scene,” you respond while tsk-ing at him and shaking your head. “I rented a couple of cheesy looking b-movies just yesterday. You know, slasher flicks that for sure spent all their budget on fake blood?”

He smiles big and jumps up off of the sofa. “Aw, my favorite! You do love me!” he exclaims with sarcastic sentiment, “You remember to stash the tapes somewhere your thief roommates couldn’t find?”

“First of all, stop calling my friends thieves. That was one time,” you say while slapping lightly at his leg from your lowered position, “And second, yeah. They’re next to my bed.”

He nods and heads to your bedroom, not wasting time to ask permission seeing as after so many years you both had developed a ‘me casa es su casa’ type of unspoken agreement. After a few more sips of your beer and picking at a partially popped kernel, you notice that Eddie is taking an unusual amount of time retrieving the tapes. You were sure that you had left them on your nightstand, you even remember seeing them while in bed this morning as you were reaching over to-

Oh. Fuck.

The can drops from your hand and falls to the floor, spilling light amber liquid onto the hardwood. Rushing into your room, you see Eddie standing in front of the drawer you had forgone closing while leaving earlier, looking down into it with a clear view of your 18th birthday present to yourself. He whips around, jaw dropped in shock. There’s an unreadable look in his eyes as he stares you down, and you realize that you have no idea what he’s thinking about. Probably all the new ammunition he now has to use against you during one of your future banter sessions.

You run forward, shoving him sideways onto the bed and slamming the drawer shut. He lands with a huff- his back on the mattress- before propping himself up onto his elbows, still looking at you with that confusing expression. His silence so far is honestly more nerve wracking than him ruthlessly making fun of you would have been.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize frantically. “I completely forgot I left this open, and I didn’t know we’d be hanging out tonight, and when I sent you in here I didn’t even think about it, and I never want to do anything to make you uncomfortable, and I-”

“Woah, princess,” he cuts off your rambling, using that nickname that he’s been using ever since the two of you met back in school. It usually brought a warmth to your cheeks, but given that you already felt sick to your stomach the sweet moniker was not appreciated. “It’s fine, I promise!”

“Fine?” you cry out, the sound muffled by your palms as your heated face is now buried behind your hands. You turn your body to face away from him, and he pushes back with his arms to sit up the rest of the way, then reaches forward to grip your elbow and spin you back around.

“Yeah, I swear! You didn’t make me uncomfortable or anything,” he consoles. “I was just surprised, is all. I just… wouldn’t have expected… you… to have that.” As he speaks the final word, he gestures to the freshly closed drawer containing your magic wand vibrator. The room falls quiet once more as he stares blankly at the offending table, seemingly lost in thought.

You shove his shoulder a little more harshly than you mean to, and he blinks back to consciousness and rubs where you met contact before re-meeting your eyes. “Don’t look at it like that!” you chastise, ignoring the fact that he technically wasn’t looking at ‘it’ like anything, seeing as it was now hidden out of sight. Your head falls into the cover of your hands yet again as you groan out, “Ugh! You probably think I’m some kind of slut now.”

“N-no!” he’s quick to deny, shaking his head. “Of course I don’t think that about you! I mean, come on, give me some credit. It’s the 80s,” he counters, with emphasis on the last word, “guys can be progressive now. I know girls masturbate too!”

“Please don’t say that word,” you reply, your hands still hiding your face but compromising by peeking out through your fingers.

“What?” he questions with a smirk, “Masturbate?”

“You’re completely impossible,” you state, giving in and dropping your arms to your side. You pick up the videos from your messy nightstand and turn on your heel to walk out the door, not even stopping as you shout out “Are you coming or what, Eds?”

Behind you, Eddie takes the opportunity of your back being turned to adjust himself in his pants and prays that he manages to keep it down throughout the duration of movie night.

That was almost an entire month ago. While Eddie took pity on you for the remainder of that night, the very next morning began his onslaught of mockery. Although, perhaps mockery wasn’t quite the right word, because you know all his jokes were meant to be lighthearted and fun. You know if you told him he was making you uncomfortable that he would stop in a heartbeat, so the real problem you’re facing is that you don’t want him to stop. Every time he shows up unannounced and slyly asks, “I wasn’t interrupting anything, was I?” with that knowing gleam in his eyes, you’re not sure if you want to scold him for his teasing or jump his bones. Him speaking so candidly about something that’s always been so private should be embarrassing- and it is- but it would be dishonest to say the butterflies in your stomach are only there because of your modesty. Truth be told, he was turning you on every time he hinted at the fact that he knows all about your favorite form of self care.

Not only were the teasing comments nonstop, there were also the questions. Eddie was relentlessly curious about the process (which confounded you considering you thought the situation was pretty straightforward) and he never seemed to run out of things he wanted to ask you.

“How long have you had it?”, “How many settings are there?”, “How often do you use it?”, “Do you need it to get off?”, “What do you think about when you use it?” (definitely couldn’t answer that one honestly), and finally, “How exactly do you use it?”

According to him, he wanted to know the ‘right way’ to use one on a girl for future reference. One day, the frustration of constantly having to dodge his incessant questions became too much, and without thinking you blurted out, “If you’re so curious about how to use it, why don’t I just teach you?” Understandably, your outburst shocked the both of you. What shocked you more was when Eddie quickly recovered and excitedly agreed.

That was how you found yourself spread out on your bed with your best friend on his knees in between your thighs. Your most private area is only covered by your hands, and your discarded panties are tucked in Eddie’s back jeans pocket.

“How am I supposed to do this if you’re hiding, princess?” he asks, observing the toy and turning it over in his hands, “Don’t be shy. It’s just me.”

That was the problem. It was him, your friend that you’ve been harboring a secret crush on for years. Now you’re in a position with him that you’ve fantasized about so many times, and you don’t know what it means for the future of your relationship. Above you, Eddie fiddles with the two buttons, figuring out the mechanics of what they do. He discovers the bottom button turns it on while the top changes the speed. There are three settings, and after cycling through them all it starts back at the beginning, only turning off by pressing the bottom button once more. When he’s done figuring out how the toy works, he powers it on to the lowest setting and looks at you expectantly, eyes flitting between your hands and face. You turn your head to the side, take one final deep breath and move your arms to your stomach, revealing yourself to him.

The air is cold on your exposed center. Other than your shaky exhaling and the humming of the vibrator, it’s quiet. You realize with embarrassment that Eddie has stopped breathing, and when you steal a glance back at him he’s staring at your bare center with an unreadable expression. You instinctively hide your face in your hands, and your thighs involuntarily twitch to close. Of course, they can’t fully shut with Eddie sitting in between them, but the movement does stir the boy from his trance. He pries your hands away from your face and you’re forced to confront his inspecting of you.

He kisses a wet peck to the tip of your nose like he’s done so many times before, and just like always your entire face scrunches up with a smile. With eyes now closed, you start to feel giddy and you can’t help but giggle at the absurdity of the situation. You half expect Eddie to start laughing with you, but no sound comes from your friend. Suddenly- and without warning- he presses the vibrator directly to your clit. Your eyes snap open, rolling back in both shock and pleasure as a humiliatingly high pitched squeal escapes out of your slack-jawed mouth.

“Such a pretty sound from such a pretty girl,” Eddie says, barely loud enough to hear considering the buzzing raised in volume due to being pushed up against something. It’s almost like he was more absentmindedly commenting to himself rather than purposefully complimenting you.

You’re only capable of responding with moans as your legs fold into your torso and your toes start to curl. It’s still set to the lowest vibration option, but your aforementioned nerves and arousal were making you much more sensitive than you would otherwise be while using the toy alone. Eddie’s empty hand moves to stroke your inner thigh, before inching toward your center slowly. He seems to be asking permission to touch you himself, and the fact that he still thinks to wait for consent while literally sitting in between your legs after taking off your underwear almost has you laughing again. Instead, you simply nod your head. Eddie’s fingers immediately spread your lips further, allowing the head of the vibrator to be able to hit your clit more directly. The buzzing becomes higher in pitch as he goes up one setting, and the sensation becomes too much to handle.

“Sorry,” he whispers when you whine and start to squirm away, “I’ll be nice.”

After positioning yourself back into place, you mumble out, “Sensitive…” as an explanation. Your voice is surprisingly weak.

“I know, sweetheart,” he says, though you doubt he actually feels regretful, “I know.”

The sound of clicking reaches your ears as Eddie toggles the toy back to the first setting. His thumb briefly brushes over your clit, causing you to shiver and gasp, and he breathes out a quiet laugh before pressing the vibrator against you once more- this time more gently. The vibrations are more bearable this way, and you feel the pleasure slowly start to rise and rise until you become a moaning puddle beneath the metalhead. Just as you’re crying out his name- a warning that you're about to cum- he pulls away, cruelly laughing at your protesting.

“Eds, what the fuck?” you shout, frustratedly. “I was so close! Why the hell would you-”

“Calm down, princess,” he interrupts. “You know I’ll get you there. I just wanna have some fun along the way.”

And you do know. You trust him more than anyone else- you’d trust him with your life- but you also know that he’s a little shit. “Please, Eds. Please just get to it,” you beg.

He stares at the head of the toy for a moment before lifting it to his face. His tongue parts his lips, swollen and pink from him biting them, and your eyes widen as he slowly licks directly where the silicone was just touching you. He moans, and his eyes roll back into his head. The sight only drives you more wild, and your hips start rocking the bed as you wait for him to continue.

He starts to bite his lips again as he watches you grind against nothing, desperately searching for friction. “Maybe I was wrong before,” he says slowly with a teasing lilt, “maybe you are a slut.” He had a look in his eyes that you had never seen before.

Your entire body raises in temperature. “Eddie…” you whine, surprised by how much his rudeness is affecting you. “Please…”

“So fucking wet, dripping all over your sheets,” he continues distractedly, paying no mind to your pleading as he caressed up and down your slit, collecting your juices. When he pulls away, you notice the lights of your bedroom reflecting off the glistening moisture on his fingers, and you resist the urge to hide again. “Such a pretty pussy. The prettiest. She’s not used to being treated so nicely, huh?”

As usual, his confidence blurs the line between incredibly sexy and incredibly annoying. His words are making your insides flutter, and probably worsening the ‘dripping all over your sheets’ problem. Still, you can’t help but feel your frustration grow. “Please, Eds, make me cum. Please make me cum,” you beg some more as you scoot down the bed. Your thighs no longer have the room to be laying on either side of him. Instead, they are now resting atop his own thighs, with your pelvises almost meeting making contact.

“So desperate for your best friend to make you cum. Are you always this wet, princess?” As he asks this, the vibrator meets your center again. He rubs it back and forth vertically in quick motions, and you groan in relief.

You answer by shaking your head no. It definitely wasn’t always like this. In fact, it was never like this. The toy slid so effortlessly between your puffy lips, massaging your sensitive nub directly and bringing tears to your eyes.

“Aw,” he cooed, “so it’s just for me?”

As embarrassed as you feel, you figure there’s no use in denying it now. “J- just for you.”

That familiar feeling of climax starts to creep up on you once more, and once more you cry out in annoyance when Eddie eases up the pressure before pulling off entirely.

“No!” you sob, “Eddie please, I need it so bad.”

“You’ll cum when I’m ready for you to cum,” he says, though the dominance in his tone is betrayed by the lust in his eyes. “I just want to play with you for a little longer. You’ll be a good girl, right?”

You suspect that he won’t start up again until you agree, so you do so without a second thought. “I’ll be your good girl,” you promise, “I’ll be good.”

He smiles wide at you before spreading your lips apart and leaning down to spit directly in between them, not that you needed the extra lubrication. Feeling his saliva make contact sent shockwaves through your body, and your back arched just in time for him to harshly press the vibrator back to your clit and start rubbing it in fast circles. This time, the orgasm doesn’t so much creep up on you as it does jump out in front of you, and you’re about to give in until you hear Eddie’s voice behind the haze.

“Hold it,” he orders. “You said you would be good, so be a good little slut and hold it.”

Your head is already thrown back, and you squeeze your eyes shut in concentration. Every fiber of your being is focused on not cumming, wanting to do as Eddie wishes so you can please him. Noticing your efforts, he lifts the toy off of your aching clit and allows you to catch your breath. With your newfound relief from the strain of resisting climax, you notice that Eddie’s free hand has left your waist, and you look down to a glorious sight.

Eddie’s palming himself through his jeans. The image burns itself into your eyelids, so not even blinking becomes an escape from what you're witnessing your best friend do to himself (not that you’re complaining). You silently observe in awe as he attempts to shove his hand down his pants, and struggles on account of them being too tight. To remedy this, he unzips his jeans and slides them down just far enough for you to catch a glimpse of his hard cock straining against the fabric of his boxers. There’s a wet patch where his head was leaking precum, and a clear imprint of his impressively girthy shaft. Once the pants are out of his way you see his hand disappear inside of his underwear as he wraps it around his member and starts jerking harshly, not fully able to stroke up and down his length given the obstructive clothing.

The pure, unadulterated lust that’s consuming you is overpowering any shyness you previously felt. “Eddie,” you say his name, but he ignores you considering you’ve been a constant stream of “Eddie, Eddie, oh Eddie,” for the past ten minutes. “Eds,” you try again, “you can take it out.”

All movement inside his boxers halts. “Huh?” he exclaims with wide eyes, “A- are you sure? This was supposed to be about you.”

“I’m sure,” you confirm. And you lift up your t-shirt to reveal the white lacy bra underneath as you elaborate, “I want you to finish on me.”

His forehead wrinkles as his eyebrows shoot up in shock. With his wide eyed staring, it almost seems like he can’t believe what you’re saying. Drool pools in his open mouth before he composes himself with a head shake. Wordlessly, he sets the still vibrating toy down on the mattress and lifts your thighs off of him, before sitting up enough to pull down the sides of his boxers. His cock springs up the second his underwear is out of the way, and -without thinking about the consequences- you spit into your palm and reach out to tentatively wrap your fingers around him.

The strangled noise that leaves his mouth is the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. He instinctively bucks his hips, but freezes, waiting for you to make the call. You start stroking him hard and fast, not bothering working up to a quicker speed when you were already so desperate for release and wanted him to cum with you. Eddie can apparently relate to said desperation, and hastily picks up the toy back up. Every muscle inside of you clenched as he started rubbing the tip against your clit in small circles. You strained to prolong this moment, knowing your eventual orgasm would be much more rewarding if you could see his face as he came all over your hand and stomach. 

“God, sweetheart,” he groans, “So fucking good. So much better than my hand.” 

The mental image of Eddie touching himself has you cursing out loud. “Really?” you ask, the pride getting to your head, making you feel light and floaty.

“You have no idea,” he responds. “Been fucking my fist nonstop since that movie night. Couldn’t help myself. All I could think about was you getting off, moaning my name.” You wonder if he knows just how real his fantasy was.

His free hand gently caresses the lacy undergarment covering your chest, his touch so light you barely register it. The uncertainty in his actions is clear, so in lieu of giving verbal consent you simply take his hand in your own and guide it to be fully on your breast.

“Can I pull this down, princess?” he practically begs, and you answer with a nod. He immediately tugs the breast cups downward, revealing your naked chest. Your soft, unmarked flesh is framed by the bunched up fabric of your shirt that’s been gathered at your clavicle, and the lacy material of your bra being held below by Eddie’s trembling hand. His hips are now moving in time with the rhythm of your strokes, and the rocking is causing your tits to bounce in a way that has his angry red tip spilling precum all over your hand as he attempts to hold off his release. The sight has you imagining what he would taste like, with you on your knees in the back of his van, and that thought has you hurtling toward the finish line at an embarrassing speed.

“Cum for me,” he orders. The second he gives you permission, you feel the damn break. As you're busy crying out in pleasure, you faintly hear Eddie in the background. “Good girl,” he grunts, “That’s it. That’s my girl.”

You cum with his name on your lips. The intensity of this orgasm is unfamiliar, and you realize with bitterness that the edging you were forced to endure was truly worth the end result. With your mind elsewhere, your stroking halts and you hear the creaking of your bed as Eddie starts to violently thrust into your fist until he meets you in orgasmic bliss. Warmth falls on your naked torso and you look down to see that he’s angled his cock to be aiming at your stomach, fulfilling your earlier wish of him finishing on you. The sight of him using your hand to milk himself dry combined with the buzzing still pressed hard against your clit has you cumming harder than you ever have before. Your hand falls from Eddie as his high comes to an end, but he does nothing to pull away the toy and offer relief to your achingly sensitive core. Any attempt to wiggle your hips free from his hold seems to go unnoticed by his strength, and you have no choice but to take the unrelenting vibrations. The overstimulation has tears falling down the side of your face as your shoulders raise from the bed, the top of your scalp pushing into the mattress as your head is thrown back. Eventually, you are able to move away, and Eddie turns off the toy and chucks it off the bed before climbing on top of you and finally kissing you on the lips.

With both of you breathing heavily into the other’s open mouth, the kiss isn’t exactly how you always imagined your first kiss with your best friend to go, but it’s perfect nonetheless. Your hands find their way into his wild hair, while his tighten their grip on your waist. His tongue in your mouth just barely has the taste of you on it from him licking your toy earlier, and as his thigh brushes your middle small aftershocks rush through your body. You stay like this for a while, lazily making out and feeling each other’s bodies, until he breaks off of your mouth to kiss down your jaw, to your neck, then back up to the side of your face.

When he reaches just under your ear, his lips part from your heated skin to whisper, “So we’re doing that again, right?”

Grabbing a tuft of his hair, you guide him back to your mouth, and with your lips moving against him you answer, “Definitely,” before deepening the kiss. You’re still unsure of what this exactly means for your friendship, but that can be talked about another time.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things fanfic #stranger things smut

[skubean]

just wanted to let you know your post does shows up in the tags, congrats on the blog opening!!🎉🎉 also. since you specifically mentioned Bettel, how about some headcanons of what he would like to do for a first date?👀

thank you anon, much love!! and i'm glad i'm showing up T.T <3 also, thank you for the request!!! aaaaa i'm so happy and this is a really good idea :o hope you liked it and lmk what you think!

first date with gavis bettel! with gender neutral reader (hcs)

warnings: gender neutral reader, fluff with some crack, slight cursing, probably just two people being silly, mentions of reader having long/hair that can be tied.

bettel strikes me as the type of guy who would act all cool but is secretly panicking on the inside when he hears you agreeing to go on a date with him. *you don't tell him but you could practically see the gears in his head turning*

he's been secretly pining for you for weeks and finally mustered up the courage to ask you out.

he's either 1) planned everything + back up plans in case plan a goes astray, or 2) decides to stick with one idea and lets fate decide what happens afterwards.

i lied, he's definitely #2.

overheard you telling your friends that you haven't been to a theme park for years, so he decides "theme park date it is!" *booked tickets as soon as he got home*

when the day finally came, bettel would have his hair done (slickback probably, like the valentine art holy shit) and would personally come and pick you up, because he's a gentleman like that.

silly but he definitely is the type that would be so cautious while driving that everytime you pass a speed bump, he would mutter small sorry(s) and try to go as slow as he could, so that you wouldn't be surprised by the sudden bump.

oh, he would also not tell you where your date would be until you saw the huge ass ferris wheel and literally flashed the brightest smile he had ever seen. (he tisker-ed)

(more under the cut!)

i imagine bettel to be really gentle with you at first because he doesn't wanna come off as rude or like pushy but gradually gets more used to being around you that his silly banters and stupid jokes come out naturally, just the way you've always liked.

some rides were fun and not too scary for the both of you, so you both got a little competitive to see who could handle the most rides.

obviously, it doesn't end well when the both of you go on a drop tower ride (reference) and the moment it plunges from a height, the both of you scream at the top of your lungs (i think bettel might've passed out midway but we'll act like it didn't happen).

roller coaster rides are both fun and scary for you that you unconsciously ended up gripping his hands as the ride starts swaying around. his heart started beating faster but his protective instinct also went crazy and decided that he would act all cool and not scream on the rides (he still did).

if you're not a fan of high rides, he'd bring you to go on rides that were less chaotic and more chilling, like the teacups or try vr!

you both had so much fun that you didn't notice the sky getting darker, signaling that it was nearing night. you could feel your heart panging at the thought of the fun day ending already.

"here, come on. i wanted to show you this", bettel would say as he puts your hand in his and brings you to the big ferris wheel the both of you saw by the entrance.

he's the type to go in first, so that he could hold your hand when you get in and have you seated in front of him.

once you both reached the top, bettel points towards the outside and you could see the whole entire park all in display. you were practically glowing in front of him and bettel swears he fell more in love with you.

while you were so focused on the view, you hear bettel clear his throat before he shifts himself so he's sitting next to you and is pushing your hair aside so as to tie it (because he noticed how you kept pushing it since you were sweating earlier).

you both pretty much sit in silence for the whole ride until you clapped your hands. "ah okay! i can't take this anymore!", you said and looked at bettel as you tell him you've liked him for so long and that you could literally pass out right now from happiness (all while your face burns from embarrassment)

bettel laughs and touches his forehead to yours before whispering, "damn, i was gonna be the first to say it but you beat me to it. can i....can i kiss you?". you nod as he leans in closer.

he's sweet, soft and tastes like apples. the both of you a blushing mess when the worker opens the door, signaling that it's time to get out.

long story short, he's glad he decided to bring you to the theme park because he saw so many sides of you he's never seen, not to mention how soft your lips were to him that he just, could not stop thinking abt them.

the date might have been cliché, but bettel made sure not to end the date without officially asking if he could be yours. not if you could be his, but for him to be yours.

once you got back home, you finally noticed how terrible he tied your hair, with it leaning to one side more, and just strands of hair everywhere. but you appreciate the effort.

"you're silly. thank you for the horrible hairstyle <3" bettel is probably kicking the sheets, giggling at your text rn.

a/n: okay phew! sorry, this ended up being slightly longer than i expected skskkssk i decided to write a theme park based first date bcs i imagine bettel to be someone who prefers fun dates like this compared to like dinner dates idk SHAHHSAKSH anyways, sorry for any errors and hope you liked this ! <3 beanz.

#i love bettel so much he's just so adorable #also his forehead in the valentine art goddamn #gavis bettel #gavis bettel x reader #holotempus x reader #holostars x reader #holotempus #holostars

[softxsuki]

*URGENT REQUEST* can you do a BTS drabble where J-Hope helps you give birth at home and he sings to you to comfort you.

J-Hope Comforts and Helps Reader Give Birth

Pairing: Hoseok x Fem!Reader

Warnings: giving birth, reader in pain

Genre: Comfort

Post-Type: Drabble

Word Count: 850

Summary: In which you're in labor at home and Hoseok sings to you to distract your from the pain and helps you through your child birth.

[A/N: Heyyy. Sooo, I know absolutely nothing about child birth AT ALL. Especially not an at-home birthing experience, so this is probably all wrong. I got whatever information I could from google and from whatever little knowledge I have about birth, so I hope this came out okay! I also wasn't sure what the Reader's relationship was with J-Hope. Is he the father, reader's brother, friend, a doctor?? No clue, so I made that a little ambiguous in the drabble. I also made the baby gn bc I wasn't sure if you wanted it to be a boy or girl c:. I hope you enjoy :D.]

“Just a little longer Y/N, you’re almost fully dilated. We’ll have you start pushing once you’re fully there. Hang in there,” the Midwife you had hired announces

She would be the one who would help you birth your child and make sure everything went as smoothly as possible. You were in an immeasurable amount of pain and just wanted your baby to be out of you already. On top of that, you were terrified. You were going to be a mother to a whole newborn child; that was something completely new and you still felt like you weren’t ready for that stage in your life, but here you were, legs spread and ready to bring life into the world.

Hoseok was seated beside you giving you as much encouragement as he could possibly muster, “You got this Y/N, deep breaths. It’ll be over in no time, then you can just rest and recover. It’ll be worth it once you hear your baby’s cries and have them in your arms.”

He gives your hand a squeeze, and although you could feel it, it wasn’t enough to distract you from the pain.

“I can’t take it! Hobi, please distract me somehow, I feel like my whole lower body is on fire! I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” you cry out as another contraction hits you.

He thinks for a while as you squeeze the life out of his hand and then it hits him—he’ll sing to you. He clears his throat and begins singing the song he felt was most appropriate for your situation, a song he had made with his group members, BTS. His smooth voice fills the room, one of your favorite sounds that you'd grown to become very fond of the more you heard it. Hoseok was a rapper in BTS, but his singing was angelic and beautiful—music to your ears.

You stare up at him in amazement, your pain momentarily numbed thanks to you being distracted by him. He was looking directly into your eyes with his signature smile across his face, reminding you through his expression and his soothing voice that he was there with you–for you. You weren’t alone so long as he remained by your side.

The anxiety and fear that was originally on your mind flew straight out the door as soon as the Midwife came back into the room and Hoseok's song came to an end.

“Okay Y/N, looks like you’re fully dilated! Are we ready to start pushing?”

You look back over to Hoseok for encouragement and he nods his head and gives your hand a little squeeze. You smile at him and turn back to the Midwife, “Let’s do it.”

The cramping pain from your contractions shoots through your body, as you begin to push, sweat beading down your face with each push. The Midwife sits between your legs instructing you to push and breathe as Hoseok remains by your side, squeezing your hand and mumbling encouraging words into your hair, dabbing away some of your sweat whenever you need him to.

It seemed like forever had passed with you pushing and screaming out in pain, but then you finally heard it–the cries of your newborn. The sound makes you pause as the adrenaline runs through your veins, hiding the pain you should have been feeling in that moment. Hoseok looks over where the Midwife was wiping the baby down as she shows you both the child in her arms.

“Congratulations Y/N, you brought a beautiful, healthy baby into the world!”

She brings your child over to your arms, allowing you to make skin to skin contact with your baby which ceases its crying instantly, almost as if it knew you were its mother.

“Mama loves you, my precious baby,” you whisper into your baby’s head, all the worries you had about motherhood completely gone as all you felt was love for the tiny body lying against your chest.

Hoseok looks antsy beside you, wanting to get a chance to hold the baby as well. His pleading eyes beg you to hand the baby over to him so he can hold it and you nod, allowing him to gently pick up the newborn from your arms as he cradles them close in his own arms. He was cooing at the small baby in awe at the size of its small hands and feet.

“They’re beautiful Y/N. You did an amazing job,” he smiles at you, proud of how strong you were to bring life into the world.

That’s right, so long as Hoseok continued to send that smile to you, you knew you could get through motherhood with no problem. You had the best support system set up and he played a huge role in that. You were a mother now and it felt amazing! You couldn’t wait to see what was in store for you now with a new addition to the family, but you knew it would be full of love and beautiful memories that you'd look back on for years to come.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted 2/22/2022

#bts x reader #bangtan x reader #hobi x reader #hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #bts #bangtan sonyeondan #hobi #jung hoseok #jhope #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts x female reader #bangtan x y/n #bangtan x you #hobi x you #hobi x y/n #hoseok x y/n #hoseok x you #hoseok x female reader #jhope x y/n #jhope x you #bts fanfic #bts drabble #hobi fanfic #hobi drabble #hoseok fanfic #hoseok drabble #jhope drabble #jhope fanfic

[c-e-d-dreamer]

This is so long and so angsty, and I am so sorry! Also, I took the “Music” prompt a bit loosely and based this off music lyrics? Hope that counts. Song is I Do by Wild Rivers :) @nessianweek

My sweater on your bedroom floor, you can take that // You don’t want my love no more, honey I can shake that

Cassian swallows down a sigh as he opens up the trash bag in his hands. The crinkle of it as he shakes it out is especially loud in the quiet of his bedroom, like a crack of thunder ringing in his ears. Leave it to Mor to demand that he “spring clean” and “finally get rid of that shit you hoard” only to bustle out of his apartment without even an offer to help. 

The living room had been an easy place to start. The photos had been one of the first things he had removed post-breakup, so there wasn’t much left out there anyways. But his bedroom. Well, he isn’t sure the last time he'd really gone through his closet. 

He opens the doors to find various clothing and items strewn about haphazardly. Some are on hangers, some are stuffed onto the shelf above, and a good chunk litter the floor. He tries to organize as he goes, pulling out and sorting through the different items to decide which to keep and which to donate. He’s sifting through the pile on the floor when his hand brushes against something soft and somehow familiar. With a tug, he comes face to face with a small cream colored sweater. The sight of it has him falling back onto his ass, his breath hitching as he runs his thumb along the cable knit pattern. 

If he closes his eyes, he can see them here, see her in this very sweater. He can feel the sweater under his palms as he slides his hands over her waist, feel the delicious warmth of her skin as slips his fingers under the hem. He can hear her laughter in his ear, like a favorite song he wants to bottle up and play on loop, as he presses kisses to her neck and behind her ear. 

Cassian digs the palms of his hands into his eyes like he can scrub the image from behind them, but all it does it make his chest ache. Like a damn full of splintering cracks, barely held together with tape. He can feel that familiar thickness clawing its way into his throat, and he can’t take it. He tosses the sweater into the trash bag and heads for the kitchen, desperate for a beer. 

I come, you go, back around back around // I see your ghost on a train downtown

Downtown is a mess as always. All Nesta can think about is a glass of wine, the chocolate cake in her fridge that she picked up from Trader Joe’s, and the next chapter of her book waiting for her on her nightstand. But instead, she’s weaving her way through busybodies and tourists who don’t know how to stand on the right and walk on the left. 

Once she gets through the crowds, she walks with practiced ease to the platform she needs, scrolling aimlessly through the array of texts from her sisters and friends from earlier today. She sends off a quick reply to Gwyn and Emerie before sliding her phone back into her bag. She turns to look at the board above the platform to check the wait time of the next train when her eyes catch on something else. Someone else. 

The sight of broad shoulders and a tangle of curls corralled into a top bun has Nesta’s heart stuttering to a painful stop and clenching hard deep between her ribs. She can already feel that all too familiar prick pressing in behind her eyes, threatening release. She can practically hear his laughter from here, loud and booming and so full of life, as he throws his head back.  

All it takes is one thought to send her spiraling back. Back to a calloused hand sliding against her own, fingers curled firmly around hers. Warm. Safe. It takes her back to a nose brushing against her hair at her temple, that laughter in her ear, a promise that screaming at passing trains is the best form of therapy. 

Nesta has to turn away and press a hand over her mouth to keep in the choked sound trying to spill forth. When she looks back down the platform, he’s gone, and all Nesta feels is the hollowness pressing in on all sides. 

It’s just a baseball cap, I ain’t even missing // And a Springsteen track, I don’t listen 

Cassian’s late. He knows it. Azriel is going to kill him if he’s not out the door soon. He does another quick check around his room, pulling out drawers in his dresser and even checking under his bed. And then it hits him, a flash behind his eyes harder than a slap across the face. 

It’s the hat being placed on a head of golden brown waves. It’s a soft press of lips against his own and lithe arms winding around his neck. It’s a mumble of “it looks better on me anyways” and clear eyes piercing into his own, deep and smokey blue and glinting like the roiling ocean under a setting sun. 

Cassian has to clench and unclench his fists a few times to get his head right, but then he’s pulling open his closet doors and digging out a different hat to throw over his mess of hair. He snags his keys and sails out the door to his car. When he turns the key in the ignition, the radio hums to life, the familiar lyrics of Springsteen flooding out of the speakers. Cassian almost wants to laugh at his luck. It would be this song. 

Even with Springsteen’s vocals blaring, all Cassian can hear is his own voice singing along, purposefully off-key, her laughter-filled pleas for him to stop as she reaches across and tries to stifle the sounds with her hand over his mouth. With a hard jam of his finger, the radio cuts out. Cassian takes a deep breath, throws the car in reverse, and drives in silence the rest of the way. 

It's just an old habit, I don't gotta kick // Or your best friends' pictures, I don't check 'em

The pile of blankets atop Nesta is the only armor she needs. She curls her body and burrows deeper into them as she opens Instagram on her phone, the small rectangle the only light in her otherwise dark bedroom. She takes a few moments to scroll through the posts on her feed and click through some Stories, but there’s no beating around the bush. She knows why she’s here. 

Her finger hesitates for only a moment over the search button at the bottom of her screen, but then she’s selecting it. It only takes her typing in the “A” before the page comes up, and Nesta refuses to let the shame threatening to heat her skin win at what that means. She clicks on the first picture, taking in the wide smiles, the arms slung casually over shoulders. Nesta bites her lip so hard, that tangy metallic taste floods her tongue. 

She shuts her phone off abruptly, tossing it onto her nightstand before rolling over. She curls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms tightly around herself, focusing on the phantom feel of different arms holding her close and warm breath ghosting across her shoulder. If she closes her eyes tight enough, she can feel the press against her back with each breath he took, feel the words “I love you” whispered against her spine. 

Now I'm driving by the place we met // Could you go there?

Cassian’s so distracted, he doesn’t even realize he missed the turn for his apartment. He’s not even fully sure where he’s going until the familiarity starts to sink in. It’s too easy to pull up alongside and throw his car into park. At this hour, it’s all dark through the large windows, but there’s no mistaking the small wooden tables with the chairs stacked atop them. The register and the glass display case. The chalkboard declaring the seasonal drink specials in bright colors and swirling writing. 

Cassian can still taste the sweetness of her drink against his tongue. Can still see her pointedly raised eyebrow and unimpressed frown like it’s branded at the molecular level of his brain. Those eyes cutting through him from the minute they locked with his own. That lilting voice of hers still ringing in his ears and asking him what he thought he was doing with her drink.  

Cassian grips the steering wheel of his car until his knuckles turn white, letting his head drop until his forehead meets the leather. He takes a few deep breaths, then he’s throwing the car back into drive, letting the coffeeshop fade away in the rearview mirror. 

Now you wanna talk? // Babe I don't care

“Nesta.”

It’s a simple sound. Just her name. But in that soft timbre, in that voice that Nesta’s heard rumble through his chest, it makes her blood freeze over. She knew she never should have agreed to come to this garden party. As soon as the text came through from Feyre, she should have declined. But that voice in the back of her mind, it had niggled, it had gnawed, it had climbed to the forefront, and now she’s standing in Feyre’s backyard, a cup of some sort of punch clutched between her hands and Cassian approaching her.  

“You look good,” he says once in front of her. 

Nesta is sure that has to be a lie. All she feels is weighed down, like every second of every day is spent trudging through thick mud. Concealer can work wonders, but it’s no miracle worker. And with him standing this close, close enough for Nesta to feel the warmth that always seemed to radiate off his frame, to smell that combination of fabric softener, cologne, and just him. All she can think about is the air stuttering through her lungs. 

At her silence, Cassian clears his throat awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “So, how have you been?” 

It’s casual, and Cassian throws an easy grin her way as he says it. Nesta hates it. She hates the way that he does look good. Hates the happy ease he didn’t even have to try to muster or pretend when he arrived, hugging and laughing with their families. Hates that she can tell the laughter lines around his eyes have gotten deeper. 

“No,” Nesta says, turning on her heel abruptly and heading back toward the house. 

She hears Cassian call after her, but she doesn’t stop. She’s surprised the whole backyard doesn’t hear the crack resounding from her chest, leaving shards of glass embedded deep in the skin. 

I see you out in a bar downtown, but you look so different like you don't go thinking, but I do

Cassian watches the ice cubes bubble and clink in his glass of whiskey. He gives the glass another swirl before throwing the amber liquid back, reveling in the burn against his throat. He tosses a couple bills onto the bar-top and slides off the stool with a sigh. He turns toward the exit but his eyes catch on the other end of the bar. 

Nesta is there, and Cassian’s entire body feels like it’s been set on fire as he takes her in, the gentle waves tumbling over her shoulders, the small black dress clinging to her every curve. He recognizes Gwyn and Emerie standing with her. He sees her laugh at something one of them says. Over the music and the crowds of the bar, he can't hear it, but it still rips through his chest like an arrow. Before he can even make a conscious decision, his legs are carrying him toward her, always toward her, like a ship brought home to safety by a lighthouse. 

“Nesta,” Cassian says once he steps up behind her. 

She turns and looks up at him, and his breath hitches in his chest all over again. His fingers itch to brush the hair away from her face, tuck it behind her ear and run the pads of his fingers through the ends. Her eyes are guarded and it makes his gut twist, urging him to press his lips against her skin until that look melts away like it used to. Maybe if he’d had another glass of whiskey he’d be feeling more brave. But the alcohol thrumming in his veins gives him enough courage to ask the question that’s been burning a hole through his head and heart. 

“Do you ever think about us?” he asks, voice quiet and just for them. 

A silence settles between them, but it’s charged, like even in this crowded downtown bar, everyone is holding their breath, waiting with baited anticipation. As the seconds tick by, Cassian begins to wonder if she’ll even answer, if he’s made a mistake, but then her hand is reaching up, smoothing a stray lock of hair away from his eyes. 

“I do.”

#my fic #acotar #nessianweek2021 #nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian #to the tune of let's get loud #let's get sad let's get saaaaaadddd #I cried myself while writing this if it's any consolation

[trivia-bangtan]

after - jjk (010)

pairing: patient!oc x patient!jungkook

genre: friends to lovers au, kinda a hazel and gus trope, | lots of angst, fluff and suggestive themes

warning: it’s all from jk’s pov and it’s sad 💀 as usual

authors note: i’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to post 😭 working over nights are killing me slowly no joke 😅 but i’m working on finishing the next few chapters so pls be patient ☺️☺️

tag list: @flowerprincejin @mwitsmejk

*jungkook’s pov*

it had been two weeks since i last seen her. to be fair, half of it was entirely my fault.

after the dinner with yn and hyung, i managed to realize i had left the house without a sweater. my body was shivering as i tried to warm myself with the feeling yn gave me.

i was in love with her. so helplessly in love with her. and i hated myself for it.

it was selfish of me to even begin friending her. i knew i didn’t have very long to live. that the cancer had reached its peak and was killing me from the inside out. the doctor gave me a year, maybe less, before it killed me. it’s already been three months and i was starting to feel it. i was growing more and more exhausted as the days passed and my body ached to the point where any physical exertion made my bones ache. i hated this feeling. but she made me forget.

she made me feel like anything was possible. that maybe i could beat this thing. i was hopeful for the first time in my life.

“hey hyung,” i say when i finally returned home from my trip. jin turned to look at me as he finished wiping down the counter.

“what’s up kid?” he smiled, tossing the towel into the sink, leaning onto the counter.

“what.. what did you think of her?” i asked. i wanted him to like yn. so badly. she was starting to mean more to me than i had intended.

when i spotted her the first day i came back to therapy, she caught my eye right away. she was the brooding type, eyes cast low as she hung her head. she obviously didn’t want to be here, but she was. when she had peered over at me when i walked in, i felt like all time had stopped.

was this what love at first sight felt like? like the world around you disappears and the silence is so loud it’s ringing in your ears? like, all that mattered was their smile? she was talking to yoongi hyung at some point, their conversation so hushed i couldn’t hear it even if we were the only three people in the room.

namjoon hyung had asked me to speak and if i was comfortable with doing so. i gauged her reaction to the news, her face contorted in a mix of confusion and sadness. not pity, but genuine sadness. and when i finished and sat down, further trying to pry myself into her life, she fought back.

“you’re cute,” i thought out loud. she must’ve heard it because her jaw clenched, further pleasing me. she was genuinely adorable trying to push me away. it was like she was dead set on being enigmatic. but she read like an open book. just for me.

“she’s what you need these days,” jin hyung smiled, pulling me from my inner thoughts. a suppressed cough pulled through my chest and out of my lips. the waves of nausea i tried so hard to fight battled with the coughs, making me wheeze in agony. i gripped the counter top with all the strength i could muster and leaned against it.

“jk,” hyung yelped, running towards me. i could feel my legs slowly losing their strength as i fought to breathe. i squeezed my eyes shut, letting the forceful coughs slip past my lips. soon, i felt a strong metallic taste on my tongue, a warm liquid on my lips. i didn’t have to see it to know it was blood.

“we gotta get you to the hospital,” hyung murmured, scrambling for his keys. i grabbed his arm, pleading with him not to take me. i would be fine, i just needed to get through this coughing fit. i didn’t want to go. i knew what they would say and i would rather live in ignorant bliss. i was dying, i didn’t need the reminder.

he ignored me anyways and carried me off to the car, dragging me away.

-

it was just as i had suspected. they told me that i needed to be more careful with the colder weather falling upon us because my immune system wasn’t strong enough to fight off any colds or diseases that came with the atmosphere. i tried my hardest to negotiate with the doctors to let me out. i needed to talk to yn. i needed her to know that i was okay and i would be away for a bit.

“hey kiddo,” hyung said, slipping into my room.

i forced myself to sit up, even though i knew i shouldn’t have, and looked at him.

“did you see her?” i asked him. i had begged jin hyung at some point to stop by the group and see if she was okay.

“yeah, i did. you didn’t text her you were here?” he asked, slightly disappointed. i hung my head in shame, sighing deeply.

“i wanted to tell her in person, i didn’t want something like that to be said over a text or phone call. she deserves more than that,” i murmured. i felt like a kid being scolded by their parents for stealing a cookie before dinner. it made me feel smaller than i already was.

“she was hurt, i’m not gonna lie,” he sighed. i peered up at him, tears battling their way into my tear ducts.

“but she told me she wanted you to focus on getting better and to not worry about her,” jin said after some time, allowing me to release a sigh of relief. she didn’t hate me.

“kook, we need to talk,” he said anxiously. whatever it was, i knew it couldn’t be good.

“look, hyung, whatever it is… please,” i begged. i knew it. i could see it on his face before the words could leave his lips.

he wanted me to leave her alone.

but i couldn’t. at first it seemed she needed me. but the more time passed, i needed her. she fueled this fire inside of me that blazed through my veins. a motivation to keep going and to fight despite all the odds stacked against me. i finally felt like i had a chance. that maybe it wasn’t too late.

i was never going to admit this, but i wasn’t going to try this time. i was going to tell the doctors to give the chemo and radiation a break and just let nature take its course. that whatever happens shall be. i was tired. so god damn tired of fighting a battle i was destined to lose. no matter how many times everyone told me i had it, that the end was near, i wasn’t sure what end i was looking forward to. the end of cancer entirely or the end of life as i knew it. i used to be suicidal but now i had an out. a way to let go without doing so to myself. i didn’t feel like myself. i didn’t like the person i was becoming, all hopped on medication just to survive the day. it wasn’t a life to live.

but then she happened. she came into my life and showed me that just because we’re tired doesn’t mean we quit. i watched her fight her battle in silence, and did so with a smile. she was tired too, i’m sure, but she was fighting. and she had found hope. and some selfish part of me would like to think that i gave that to her.

jin hyung sighs deeply before making his way over to me in silence. he places himself in the chair by my bed and just stares at the ground.

“i just… i haven’t seen you like this in so long,” he admits after some time. i force myself to look at him. he looked so tired and worn out. had i done this to him?

“i just… i really think i have a chance. with her, she makes me believe that this is it,” i admit, reminiscing on her eyes that reflected the joy i feel in my heart, so bright and effervescent. hyung smiles at me and nods.

“don’t screw it up kid.”

-

“hyung, it’s been a week. is this what she felt?” i whine, tossing myself onto the couch in our living room. hyung was sitting on a chair in the corner of the room. he chuckles at me and i pout, staring at the screen, hoping for a different outcome.

“well, can’t say i blame her. poor thing must be going through something too,” jin shrugs, flipping a page in his book.

“do you think she’s home?” i ask out loud. maybe i can finally see her face to face.

“it’s gonna rain, kook. you just got out of the hospital. don’t push it,” hyung scolds me. i groan and clutch my phone tighter, telepathically sending out a signal to yn to reach out to me.

then my phone vibrates.

it’s her.

“yn?!” i squeal, hardly containing my excitement. i squirm around trying to properly adjust myself on the couch, finally getting into a proper seated position.

“no, it’s her cousin hoseok. she’s missing and i’m worried. have you seen her?” hoseok rushes out, his voice out of breath. my heart stops and the world screeches to a halt. missing??

“no, i-- are you sure?” i ask, now standing on my feet. hyung has set his book down at the sound of my worried tone.

“she seemed off and i’m afraid she’s going to do something bad,” he shutters, his voice shaky.

“like what?” my adrenaline is racing so hard and the world is still stopped at the spot, my eyes frantically searching the window as if she would magically appear outside. i hadn’t noticed the rushing downpour of rain and that furthered my fears.

“i think this is it,” hoseok mutters, more to himself than to me. i can hear him sobbing on the other end of the line, which was doing nothing for my rising anxiety.

“like what?” i shout, my body trembling.

“i can’t find her alone. i need your help. drive down every street shouting her name. she can’t have gone too far. check every park, every bridge, every cliff near her house, and you call me back on her phone as soon as you find her,” hoseok says, barking out instructions as if he’s done this a million times.

and i fear that he has. i waste no time grabbing my coat from the kitchen.

“hyung please, i need you to drive me to yn’s. i think she’s going to hurt herself,” i whimper, shoving the coat on and some shoes as fast as i could. he doesn’t bother with a reply and grabs his raincoat and keys and we make a dash for it to the car. he peels out of the driveway and i mumble directions to him as i keep my eyes glued to the window, scanning over every inch. the rainfall was thick, visibility as horrifically low as it could get.

“hyung… we have to find her. we have to…” i murmur. i can tell he’s trying to stay composed for my sake, but i still felt the overwhelming fear of what lies ahead.

and then, for the first time since hoseok’s phone call, i can breathe.

“there she is!” i shout, pointing at her unmistakable brown hoodie. the one i had seen a thousand times and could spot in a crowded room. i don’t wait for him to park. once my high of seeing her wears off, i realize she’s standing way too close to the ledge of the bridge.

“oh my god…” i feel myself say. i can see her screaming out loud, to no one in particular. was she? no… she wouldn’t. but would she?

i waste no time in running at her, her name leaving my lips in trembled shouts. i don’t think she could hear me, and that pushes me to run faster.

but then she leans.

and my hand clasps around her wrist. her body swings over, teetering back. her head smacks the concrete of the bridge, the crack almost audible. my heart stops and it almost causes me to lose my grip. i throw my other hand over and take grasp of her hood, hoisting her back up.

“come on dammit,” i yell, mustering all the strength in my body. i manage to pull her back over, her body collapsing on mine. i pull her close to my chest, her body limp in my arms.

i check for a pulse on her neck, waiting until i feel it thump against the pads of my fingers. it feels like an eternity before i feel it faintly tap against my pointer and middle finger. i let out a strangled sob, relieved that she was only rendered unconscious.

“call for help!” i shout back. i pull her into my chest, my body tremmering. she’s alive. thank god she’s alive.

“i love you, please don’t leave me,” i sob, my body rocking back and forth. the sound of sirens fall deaf to my ears as i continue to hold her close.

#bts #kpop #bts jungkook #jungkook #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #bts jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook angst #jeon jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenarios #after jjk #kpop scenarios

[anntoldst0ries]

None shall sleep (Ethan x MC)

Book: Open Heart 3, post Chapter 5 Pairing: Dr Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr Noelle Valentine) Word Count/Rating: ~1.8k, T Summary: In the privacy of the diagnostic's office, Ethan & Noelle reflect on recent changes around them. Category/Warnings: Fluff, None Trope: And there was a bit of Hurt/Comfort

A/N: This chapter reminded me of things that have never been addressed... so this is a story of how things left unsaid all collided in my head. Hope you enjoy.

Also - yes, Ethan Ramsey can sing arias. Is anyone still truly surprised by the fact that this guy can do anything?

There is something mesmerizing about watching the lights of day go out, overpowered by darkness, ablaze with colours - from the depths of blue, through indigo, navy and all the way to pitch-black.

About how, in a sense, it washes away all the bothers and allows you to start anew with the next rise of the almighty sun.

Ethan Ramsey was hoping for this exactly, maybe more than ever, but all the signs showed it wasn’t in the cards for him.

Or at least not today.

He stared into the void, interwoven by occasional human figures passing by through the front lobby. No voices of the day were able to reach him on the 7th floor of his kingdom. Behind the glass wall, he was almost in a different world.

It had been yet another day that brought him more gritted teeth, holding himself back and resigned sighs, than actual satisfaction from helping those who counted on him. All these ‘activities’ were not only annoying but also highly energy-consuming.

Bringing the index and middle fingertips to his pulsating temples, he started to compress and massage them in small circles, trying to soothe the pounding inside his skull. He could hear the blood rushing through the highways of his veins, the sound almost drowning out all external stimuli.

But there were certain sounds his expert ear was trained on, the ones he would’ve recognized even in his sleep.

Like the one reaching his ears right now, the sound of the door handle being pressed.

With his back facing the door, he couldn’t see who was trying to impose on his much-needed solitude. But since the unexpected guest did not precede their ministrations by knocking, the possibilities narrowed down significantly. There were only two people on the premises of Edenbrook who could invade his personal space without a modicum of manners.

“Can I help you?” He modulated his voice to ensure the tone was expressing two things: annoyance and irony in the otherwise polite question.

“I’m sorry.” From all the voices, this one he did not expect to hear now. A melodic tone was joined by a scuffle of retreating steps. “Do you want me to go?”

Ethan curled his lips in a tiny smile. They both knew she wasn’t apologetic and that he wanted anything but her to leave.

“No, it’s just that there are only two people in this hospital that wouldn’t bother knocking and I thought it was one of them paying me a visit.”

“Let me guess… Zaid and Baz?”

“No, but in terms of concept, you were actually close…just another type of evil ‘twins’."

“Oh, you mean his majesty King Bloom & his annoyance Dr Carrick?”

“Even as a joke, it sounds creepy and horrible.”

“Well, count me as a third now. Heads up though, I will only stop knocking after twilight.”

It was clear as crystal Ethan’s already specific sense of humor had less than ever space for amusement.

“I brought you this.” She put a brown paper bag on his desk, which immediately revealed the aroma of something delicious. “I figured you’re probably gonna stay here all night, so I thought I’ll pop over and check on you.”

He didn’t say anything, staring into the darkness. Not because he didn’t want to - he simply didn’t know what. This simple gesture was very touching and filled him with gratitude. But he was lacking the right words.

Then, for the first time since she’s interrupted his train of thought, he turned around to look at her. Tired and with puffy eyes, she’d still put everyone else to shame. Even on the worst of days, the light radiating from her turned heads and made the room brighter.

She extended a hand and when their fingers touched, he felt this weird, tingly feeling that has traveled from his palm, through his arm and neck, and then straight to his core.

Pressing him gently against the edge of the desk, she took his glasses off. Then loosened his tie and nonchalantly disheveled his hair. Ethan wouldn’t let anyone else in the world touch them, let alone put them in a state of such disarray.

With her, all the rules existed only to be broken.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on in this big brain of yours?”

“Smart move, Valentine. You’ve pacified me so that now I will have no choice but to tell you whatever you want to know.”

“You always have a choice, let’s just hope you’re gonna make the right one.”

Ethan nodded, no sound escaping his lips. She knew she’d have to take it upon herself to get any information out of her stubborn converser.

“So, how are you holding up? I want an honest answer."

“I’ve been better.”

“I thought so.”

“It’s just that… Tobias is driving me crazy. His presence really tests my patience… I don’t know if I would’ve stopped myself from punching him had it not been for you.”

“Why thank you, I didn’t know my therapeutic services were that good.”

“They are.” Ethan cleared his throat. “But it’s… not just that.”

Dead silence lingered between them and he knew he had no other choice but to continue.

“The only reason why I haven’t wiped this ridiculous smirk off his face yet is that whenever I look at him, I… I see you in that room with Travis. I’m trying to remind myself that, as much as I hate to admit it, he was crucial to finding the cure on such short notice.”

“Ethan…”

“I already told you” - he interrupted her as if not to stop the words from flowing, afraid they may be trapped forever otherwise - “that there was so much more at stake last time Tobias set foot in Edenbrook.”

She took a deep breath, her eyes going slightly wider.

“The truth is, for me… everything was at stake. I would’ve done anything he’d asked me to, I��d have forgiven him if it meant saving you.”

Elle turned still, all her body movements, her breathing and even her blinking ceased.

It was one of those moments that mean so much but leave you with so little to say.

Using the power of non-verbal communication and their deep affinity, she bestowed on him the most gentle, loving and grateful expression her face could muster after yet another exhausting shift.

Ethan extended his arm and before she realized it, her back was gently pressed to the older doctor’s chest. Having wrapped her slender frame with his broad shoulders, Elle inhaled his familiar aroma. He smelled of comfort and felt like a safe harbor. He nudged her hair with his nose and placed a featherlight kiss on the crook of her neck. She smelled of calmness and felt like coming back home from a long journey.

“So,” - he murmured directly into her ear - “whether you like it or not, I am using you to soften the blow every time I look at Tobias’ face.”

“I think I can live with that.”

“But I can’t guarantee it will always be enough, he is a cocky son of a bitch.”

“Let's make a deal then. I see how much it costs you and I’m not telling you to trust Leland or forgive Tobias, I still believe you should be cautious. Let’s just wait and see where this goes, I think we’ll know sooner rather than later. In the meantime, we should focus on what matters the most, our patients.”

“Where is the deal part?”

“If it turns out you were right, I will hold Tobias and you will punch him. Deal?”

“I believe it should be the other way round. Declan Nash’s face told me your right hook is exquisite, Rookie.”

They both laughed at the memory which seemed so distant now, almost as if it's happened in another lifetime.

But Ethan went quiet again and she felt his body tense up, his arms tightening gently around her. It wasn’t very obvious, but she knew. It still came as a shock how well she actually knew him.

“Ethan? What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Ethan.”

“I’m sorry, I am not the most cheery companion today. You’re probably better off not spending too much time with me before you turn into a cynic.”

“Dr Ramsey, what a pathetic attempt of trying to get rid of me. You’ve never been the most cheerful type and I’ve survived your gloomy companionship, hell, I think it grew on me over time. So I should be ok today, too.”

It looked like silence was very much their third companion today.

“I’m thinking about Francis.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I’m thinking about how hard it would be not to see. So many beautiful things, colors, all turning into nothingness.”

“I take it you mean the opera?”

“That too, but let’s just say I’ve learned to appreciate things that are right in front of my nose… literally and figuratively.”

The butterflies started somersaulting in her stomach.

“I didn’t want to add more to your plate at the time, but I’ve already felt this way… when we diagnosed Caroline and Leland.”

It was funny that, despite his obvious animosity towards Bloom, whenever his wife was in the picture, he spoke about both in an almost affectionate way. His doctor’s instincts were kicking in, because first and foremost he was a doctor who had his patients’ best interest at heart.

“The thought of not being able to touch you…it reminded me of touching you through the layer of hazmat suit. And now with everything Francis has been through, I just can’t be bothered to think about anything else but you. This is my true personal connection to this case.”

It was her turn to be speechless.

Ethan tightened his grip over her once again, this time protectively rather than out of stress. Slow hum started filling the air, the melody soon joined by lyrics, which he sang in fluent Italian; a private concert, performed for her and her only.

Tu pure, oh Principessa

Nella tua fredda stanza

Guardi le stelle

Che tremano d'amore

E di speranza**

She remembered their patient’s face, which seemed calmer once Ethan started singing the aria before the depths of illness contorted it with pain.

Francis' husband's words echoed throughout her head.

Even though the man holding her in his arms didn’t say it, there was no need.

She knew.

He will always be here.

And she will always be here, too.

-----

** Lyrics - aria "Nessun Dorma" (‘None shall sleep’) from the opera "Turandot".

Translation:

Even you, oh Princess,

In your cold room,

Watch the stars,

That tremble with love

And with hope.

Tag 🔖 list: @starrystarrytrouble @genevievemd @sophxwithers @maurine07 @lovingramsey @iemcpbchoices @oldminniemcg @schnitzelbutterfingers @archxxronrookie @jamespotterthefirst @the-pale-goddess @queencarb @fireycookie @qrkowna @coffeeheartaddict @utterlyinevitable @gryffindordaughterofathena @xxsugarplumfluffsxx @wingedhairstylemusicweasel @mrs-ramsey @tsrookie @fayeswiftie @mercury84choices @lisha1valecha @lucy-268 @stateofgracious @danijimenezv @alina-yol-ramsey

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

#ethan ramsey x mc #open heart #open heart fanfiction #ethan ramsey #playchoices #ethan x noelle

[jeontaehui]

TAEHEE WITH OTHER IDOLS

twice’s chaeyoung

her bestie !!!!! chaeyoung’s like her mark but like outside the group.

they support each other whenever the other wins an award, always giving wide smiles that are too hard to hide.

their hangouts are referred to as ‘dates’ by the fans, considering how romantic their dinners are and how chaeyoung captions her instagram posts after going on said ‘date’.

chaeyoung is very clingy when she sees her. she clings onto taehee like a koala :(

in award shows, taehee would tend to walk slower than the rest of the neos just to talk to chaeyoung.

chaeyoung was once caught playfully flirting with taehee during an award show, causing the latter to laugh as the camera pans to another group.

iconic moment (seoul music awards 2019) taehee took mirror selfies as she waited for chaeyoung to finish up in the bathroom. when chaeyoung found out, she later posted these on instagram with the caption, “the one who i love 😍❤️”.

stray kid’s han

her other bestie since predebut !!!!!!!!

both are so powerful in the rap industry already, stayzens are just waiting for a collab.

they met in a convenience store. jisung wanted her to go to jyp with him, only to find out she’s been training in sm already (cue pouting from the both of them).

both are in Love with each other’s music, with jisung having some of nct’s songs in his playlist and taehee knowing the lyrics and the choreo to skz’s songs.

their reactions to each other’s performances are adorable !!!!!! and even funny at times. attending the same award shows means very cute interactions fans’ lenses would capture <3

(seoul music awards 2019) before the two groups walked by each other, taehee slowed down her pace and let herself stay behind the group to greet the main rapper of stray kids. once jisung was within arm’s reach from her, she raised her hand for a high-five, to which jisung pulled her into a bro-hug instead. he whispered something to her first and ruffled her hair, making the older girl hit his shoulder softly, laughing as he left.

jisung introduced taehee to chan and felix and she now has two new aussie buddies that remind her of home too !!!!!

iconic moment (isac 2019) stayzens went batshit crazy when skz had to pass by nct during the sports competition. seeing this as a chance to be playful with his best friend, jisung jumped over the first row of seats and proceeded to whisper something to taehee (who was seated very near to where the other members of skz were by the way), before jumping over to the third row. jisung must have said something really funny to taehee since it made the female idol to turn away laughing as she covered her mouth. later on, we see the two talk, inviting a very excited chan and a shy mark lee to the conversation. 

red velvet’s yeri, april’s naeun, and weki meki’s doyeon

yeri and taehee were already close since trainee days (she’s close with the rest of red velvet too). taehee knew yeri was friends with naeun and she was Dying to meet her so yeri introduced them to each other, and since doyeon is friends with naeun, the latter later introduced all three of them to each other.

yeri and taehee always sat beside each other whenever nct is asked to share a table with red velvet. yeri would laugh a lot since taehee’s always so energetic when she dances to the other groups’ songs. she always hung out with red velvet during isac but would end up having yeri to herself anyways ,,, they teased each other a lot too.

taehee Loves naeun, literally. she’s always flirting with her and telling her how pretty and cute she is. naeun was flustered at first but now she’s used to it lol. taehee would literally just stare at naeun with a loving smile during pre-performance interviews in inkigayo ,, naeun does the same whenever it’s time for taehee to say her lines ^ ^ and whenever they would accidentally make eye contact, they crack up and try to hide their giggles.

taehee was kinda intimidated of doyeon at first ,,, but she thought she was a chill type of person. turns out doyeon had a lot of cute charms in her and taehee always finds herself calling her cute when she does so. they are literally a power duo. whenever the two are mentioned together, fans would gush about how good they would look in a photoshoot together.

iconic moment (yeri bang ep. 11-1) “doyeon’s and taehee’s styles are similar. right?” yeri asks as she picks out beads for the bracelet she’s putting together for taehee. “taehee would want something that goes well with her outfit. she mostly wears monotone or beige colors,” naeun points out.

“ahh naeun, you know me so well,” taehee cooes, and clearly, her eyes were in the shape of hearts. seeing as the she got ignored, yeri drops her mouth open feigning offense. “why didn’t you give me a reaction like that?” she whines, “i knew you before naeun!!!”

“she’s just really interested in naeun,” doyeon hums casually, making the other girls laugh as taehee stood up from her seat. “HEY!!! that’s making me sound like a bad friend and i’m not.”

“are you really?” yeri continues to tease her, causing the said girl to whine and hug her in embarrassment.

blackpink

they’ve met and exchanged numbers in a music show early in their debuts.

she’s the closest with rosé and lisa since their age gap is quite smaller compared to jennie and jisoo.

there have been fancams of taehee watching blackpink perform and once jisoo was on the monitor, we’d see taehee mutter, “ahh she’s really pretty.”

taehee visits blackpink’s table once every award show, and jennie would be so attentive and welcoming of her — fixing her hair, being genuinely interested in what she’s saying, and laughing at her jokes. she was seen clinging onto taehee’s waist at some point, jennie adores taehee :(

taehee’s og aussie buddy is rosé !!!! they talk and eat together a lot, mostly about australia. taehee mentioned her in a radio show talking about the time they both cried in a public restaurant, “we were talking about home and then rosé unnie just started talking about her parents and suddenly i’m tearing up and then she’s tearing up and so we ended up crying while we ate pasta,” she laughed.

lisa thinks of taehee as her little brother. she’s just as energetic as her and taehee’s jokes are what lisa finds so funny. she would join in on a few of rosé and taehee’s hangouts and take lots and lots of pictures of them (and jokingly get mad if one of the girls don’t give her credit when they post on instagram).

iconic moment (200718 rosé instagram live) “you are so hot, rosé,” taehee reads from the comments, making it a sound a little sexy for the effect, the latter widening her eyes at the implication. “how ‘bout me? how ‘bout me?” lisa cuts in, “guys. how ‘bout me?”

“i’m the hottest okay? i’m the hottest,” she presses, rosé repeating what she said in breathy laughter. meanwhile, taehee was looking at lisa with the most sincere eyes she could muster just to tease her, “you are,” she emphasized, “the hottest.”

rosé laughs for the nth time that day as she clutches her stomach before questioning the youngest’s words, “ya, are you a two-timer?”

“no, i just have the prettiest girls beside me.”

ateez’s wooyoung and txt’s yeonjun

more of taehee’s ‘99 liner friends !!!!

taehee met wooyoung when she bumped into ateez in a convenience store near music bank. the leader of ateez greeted her first and a few of the members who were with him became acquainted with taehee, but wooyoung became the closest to her !!!!

(ateez boatta cover dance) “HEY JEON TAEHEE LOOK!!!!” wooyoung shouted before dancing ‘kick it’.

taehee covered ‘say my name’ and ‘answer’ in two of her dance vlives.

then wooyoung introduced yeonjun to taehee when the latter guested as an mc for inkigayo.

(191115 vlive) “oh i really like this song (run away by txt), i listen to this before going to bed sometimes. i’m actually friends with one of the members, yeonjun. ateez’s wooyoung introduced us while i mc’d as a special guest for inkigayo and we exchanged numbers. i really like their songs, especially the vibe.”

taehee is known to be very open with her friendships with other idols, so fans were quite okay with seeing her hang out with the two, her manager trailing a few feet behind them.

iconic moment (191115 vlive) taehee’s laugh trails off once she saw a notification pop-up on her phone. unlocking her phone, she snorts once she checked the message. she proceeds to show the meme to the camera while covering the top part of her phone, “ateez’s wooyoung sent this to our gc with txt’s yeonjun.”

“aha!! d’you guys know? when i send stuff to the gc, sometimes they leave me on read or reply ‘....’ just to tease me,” she rolls her eyes playfully, “but i’m glad we’re comfortable enough to tease each other.”

itzy’s yuna

taehee wanted to make friends to go out of her shell more, and she thought asking her manager to get yuna’s number was the first step.

taehee’s like Really fond of yuna ,,, and she’s glad they got along well real quick so she took her out to eat.

earlier in the year, when superm was touring, yuna sang a snippet of taehee’s solo song and tried to dance all the points of the choreo she could remember.

the fans have yet to see more interactions (or crumbs) from these two — noticing how their age gap is just a year longer than taehee’s and jisung’s, midzyzens would LOVE to see taehee baby yuna :(

iconic moment (200922 yuna instagram live) “nct’s taehee video called me awhile ago. we’re good friends,” yuna shyly giggles in front of the camera. “it’s been a long time since we last talked to each other so she called me, and then told me how much she loved our new album. she told me she really likes ‘not shy’, but she loves ‘be in love’ the most,” she explains further, adding how the nct member loved it because of her ‘killing me, killing me’ verse. 

“taehee unnie is very good to me,” she cutely smiles. “she’s very genuine with her words and she’s really supportive. i hope for us to eat again and become closer in the future.” 

#s.taehee #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct u #wayv #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct blurbs #nct drabbles #nct au #nct x reader #nct fluff #nct angst #nct female member #nct female addition #kpop female addition #kpop female idol #twice chaeyoung #stray kids jisung #red velvet yeri #april naeun #weki meki doyeon #blackpink #ateez wooyoung #txt yeonjun #itzy yuna

[summonerscenarios]

How about a scenario where Wakan had a rough day and MC cuddles with him to blow off some steam?

First post lets start it off with something fluffy~! Been a hot second since I wrote something for Wakan so this was fun!

-----

Wakan’s never been the type to let things get him down for long, always charging headfirst towards the future confident that things will work themselves out for the best. It’s one of his most admirable qualities, though a part of you always worried that he was going to burn himself out if he didn’t ease up every now and again.

You’re usually able to hear him before he even comes through the door, usually hearing him calling out your name the moment he’s on your floor, or listening to him chattering with the neighbors after stopping to help them carry things up. The fact that he’s almost always beaming with energy only makes him more noticeable, especially thanks to the countless nights that he’s come home and immediately sought you out, quite literally sweeping you off of your feet and into his arms before you’ve even gotten to the door to greet him. So you’d like to think that you’ve gotten good at noticing when he’s home; today’s different.

The telltale jingle of keys undoing the front door catches your attention as you turn your head to the doorway, and not a moment later a familiar set of footfalls enters your apartment as you hear the door slide open. Wakan normally announces his presence when he comes home, but when you don’t hear his voice you grow concerned, moving to switch off the TV as you slip off of your bed and pad gingerly out into the hallway. 

Slinking towards the hall leading to the front door, you peek around the corner and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding when you spot Wakan Tanka standing in the doorway, back turned to you as he closes the door with a soft click. Your relief is short lived however when he doesn’t budge, shoulders slouching with a sigh with his hands remaining pressed against the door. Whilst you can’t see his face, it’s clear to see that something’s got him down if the way his ears are drooped wasn’t enough of an indication. A beat passes in silence, and you’re preparing to approach him when Wakan suddenly straightens up, clapping his hands against his cheeks as though psyching himself up into a better mood before whirling around.

His mouth opens, the beginnings of your name tumbling from his lips before he finally notices you, now openly standing in the hallway. At the sight of you, Wakan seems momentarily stunned, but quickly composes himself and perks up, crossing the distance between you in a few short strides and bundling you up in his arms. His greeting is warm, and the embrace he wraps you in is firm and passionate, but you’re more focused on the earlier scene as you place your hands onto his arms, giving them a soft squeeze. Wakan pulls away just enough to see your face, and at the worry on your face, his head tilts in confusion.

“Hm? What’s wrong?”

You make a non-committal noise, worrying the words before asking. “Wakan, is everything okay?”

“Okay...?” Mirroring your words, Wakan visibly falters. 

You can sense the hesitation - communication has always been a key part of your relationship, namely thanks to Wakan’s own upfrontness, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t go out of his way to avoid worrying you when things actually do bug him. So when he trails off, eyes momentarily flickering behind you as though searching for the perfect words to ease your concerns you huff and lean back, bringing your hands up to the sides of his face and cupping it between them. That gets him to focus back on you, and feeling him press into your palms with a soft sigh your expression softens, thumbs rubbing across his cheeks until he lets out that signature hum that tells you he's relaxing.

“Rough day?” you venture a guess. You know it’s probably more than that, but for now it’s a good start when he nods in response, letting his face come to rest completely in your hands.

“Yes.” he concedes, and for a second you watch his expression furrow - a telltale sign that he’s debating whether or not he should explain. 

Not wanting to push him, you offer him the softest smile you can muster and press a quick peck to the corner of his mouth. He makes a noise of pleasant surprise, but just as quickly tilts his head so that your lips are pressed directly against his - a short and sweet gesture. When you pull away he’s smiling again, but this one’s a little less troubled and that in itself is a relief. Your hands move from cupping his fact and Wakan fumbles to catch himself as you take his hand into your own, giving it a gentle tug.

“Come on,” you urge, coaxing him to follow you as you take a step backwards. “You must be exhausted - come cuddle for a bit.”

At the mention of cuddles Wakan doesn’t hesitate to follow you and soon enough you’re backtracking into your bedroom, guiding him along until he’s through the doorway and your legs knock against the bed; only then do you let go of his hand and turn to climb onto it. 

You kick back the covers as you shuffle back onto the bed, rolling onto your back and holding out your arms in a ‘come hither’ gesture hoping he’ll take the hint. Wakan beams and clambers onto the bed to join you, arms moving to circle around you as you pull him into your embrace. He fits effortlessly in your arms as he presses his face into your chest, and your touch is soft as you bring one hand to run through his hair as the other comes to drape across his shoulder blades. Deft fingers are quick to start massaging his scalp, and the pleased groan that he lets out as he sinks further into you has you chuckling. 

It isn’t long till his hair is all mussed up from your ministrations, but Wakan doesn’t seem to care in the slightest, letting his eyes close as he nuzzles up against your chest eagerly seeking out your warmth. Wakan’s open with affection, so it’s little surprise that at your attention he’s already relaxing, and you hum to yourself as you continue petting his head, being mindful of the horns languidly flickering in a bright green hue shining just a bit brighter than they were before. Once you’re sure he’s loosened up enough, you duck down to press a chaste kiss to the top of his head, moving down in quick succession to give his ears a few quick pecks in the process. They twitch the moment your lips touch them, and you giggle at the fuzzy feeling rubbing against your chin before you return to your original spot.

At the feeling of you pulling away, Wakan’s face peeks out from his previous position cuddling against your chest. He looks significantly more comfortable than he was before, and you find yourself smiling knowing that he’s at least a little happier now that he’s home. Wakan’s voice is soft as he says your name, and when you make a noise of acknowledgement he shuffles upwards, moving so that you’re face to face. Though he pauses for but a moment, he just as quickly dives in to press his lips to the corner of your mouth.

“Thank you.” he’s smiling as he moves away, resting his cheek against your chest watching your reaction.

“Don’t need to thank me,” you mutter, head tilting as you think for a moment before adding. “Buuuuut you can keep giving me more kisses~”

Wakan’s smile breaks out into a grin at your words, but doesn’t hesitate to lean back in as you hold him close, pressing him to your chest as he gives you another kiss.

#Anonymous #sin night #housamo #tokyo afterschool summoners #imagines #housamo imagine #scenario #housamo scenario #Wakan Tanka #housamo wakan #request #ask

[rosecoloredbi-writes]

Settle

Summary: After the death of your best friend and their spouse, you went from Godparent to Parent overnight. Now, Mio is your world. Because of this new role, you move back to Tokyo, Japan in order to keep Mio with her friends and her school, even if it means you might run into *him*.

Warnings: Mentions of stalking. Swearing probably. Cannon violence. Single parenthood. barely mentions Mio's parents passing.

Gender Neutral!Reader x Shouta Aizawa (Eventual)

Mentions of past GN!Reader x Dabi

A/N: Okay here is my first fic for My Hero Academia! I got the idea for it earlier today and figured I'd just post this first part I just finished and see if I should keep uploading. This is the first thing I've written in a while and I'm so excited to be writing again :)

It took him a moment to reorient himself, but he knew where he was going. A few more buildings and finally to his perch, he looked in to see you, and to his surprise, a child- no older than five, maybe 6, snuggled into your chest, your arms protectively around them. He stayed in his hiding spot for a while as you slept with your child. He hadn’t been informed there would be a child.

About an hour later, he noticed another person watching you in the shadows, just like he was. He would have to stay all night to make sure no one harmed you.

You controlled your breathing, not wanting the two sets of eyes to know you were awake, to know that you knew they were there. This way you had the advantage. You didn’t know what they wanted, but either way, you had a bad feeling about it.

She began to stir as the sun shone through the open window, stretching her small arms and legs before turning back to face you.

“Good morning my sunshine,” you said softly. “Did you sleep well?”

She nodded her head before sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

“Guess it’s time to get up, huh Mio,” you stood up and picked your girl up, giving her a squeeze as your eyes glanced around. Only one set of eyes, you realized making you shiver.

You did your best to keep to your usual routine and soon enough you were out the door, Mio's hand in yours.

The school Mio attended was used to having students whose parents were pro heroes, so you gave her teacher the signal and they knew something was up and knew not to release even to the people you had given the school the okay to. After a kiss goodbye, you headed to the market, now with your headphones on, music off.

You hummed as you looked through the isles of food, picking up the few things you needed and setting them in your basket. The bakery you worked at was out of a special type of flour you needed to bake a client’s cake with. Once everything was paid for and in tow, you noticed a red feather settled amongst the items.

Why is Hawks following me? What does he need from me and why?

You carried on with your day, hoping he hadn’t noticed that you had noticed.

That is until he came into the bakery. You ducked just in time and took a deep breath, coming back out to the front after he dinged the bell.

He was about to say something, a dumb smirk on his face, but you cut him off.

“Why are you following me?” You asked, trying your best to sound confident and brave.

His features dropped and his eyes narrowed before quickly going back to a leisurely look. “You’re better than they told me you’d be,” He finally said.

You rolled your eyes as you walked over to the little door and opened it for him, gesturing for him to follow you to the back. Once you were settled you told him to start talking.

“I really shouldn’t be telling you any of this bu-”

“I know someone else is following me,” you said, cutting him off again. “I need to know who, why, and if my daughter is in danger.”

“Straight to the point. I like a person who knows what they want,” he commented, eyebrow raised. This had you rolling your eyes again. “We don’t know why or if your daughter is going to be targeted, but we are pretty sure the League of Villains is watching you.”

You took in a sharp inhale. There was only one person who you could think of that would have joined up with them and you knew why he was watching you. You should have recognized the bright blue of his eyes. “Dabi.”

You were very quickly taken into hiding with a man you didn’t know, cause that made you feel safe and protected. But, you pulled some information out of him. For example, his name was Aizawa Shouta and he was an underground hero. His quirk allowed him to erase other people’s quirks, thus the name Eraser Head. He also had a cool capture weapon he wore as a scarf. You tried to mess with it once and it didn’t end well.

You were allowed to go pick Mio up, but you were discreetly escorted by Aizawa who was now in street clothes, hair tied up, looking like he could fall asleep at any moment.

Mio was confused as to who the man was and gave you a questioning look. “Don’t worry, he’s a friend,” you told her softly as the three of you began back to the safe house. Once there, you introduced the two.

She was tense but eventually got comfortable when she saw that you were okay.

“She’s cute,” you turn to Aizawa who is watching Mio with a soft smile on his face.

“She’s the best kid a parent could ask for,” you replied. “Her quirk,” you started slowly after a moment had gone by, “we don’t know a lot about it, but it has to do with her voice. I don’t know who it came from either. I’m not her biological parent, I was her godparent. And then her parents died and here we are. She’s only said a few words out loud and whatever happened, it scared her into staying silent.”

He nodded. “So Y/N, what is your quirk? Does it have to do with your increased senses?”

“That’s mostly learned, but I’ve always had the extra sense of knowing when I’m being watched, which has come in handy more times than you’d think.” You began rolling up your long sleeves, showing tattoos covering almost all the skin on your arms. “Creation is my main ability, but it has its drawbacks. If it’s not illustrated on my skin already, it’s painful and it drains me, which is why I’m covered in tattoos. I have weapons, items I need handy, and a few odds and ends. Now, with the tattoos, it’s almost as easy as breathing.”

Aizawa began to reach out, pausing before he made contact with your skin, looking up to you for permission. When you nodded, the pads of his fingers lightly traced several of them, following a vine up your arm to a butterfly. He looked at you inquisitively and you gently focused on it until a butterfly appeared, gently fluttering.

“Its… it’s real. You can create living things?” He asked in awe, “But how?”

You shrugged and watched as Mio noticed the flittering and watched with wonder as the butterfly landed on the sofa.

“They don’t last forever, that’s the drawback. The bigger the creation and the longer I will it, the more it takes from me. Inanimate objects are the easiest.” You reached your arm around your back and under your shirt, pulling back with it a sword.

Aizawa gently traced the ornate handle, only to jump back as Hawks entered.

“Don’t let me interrupt,” he says with a sly smile. “You figure out what their quirk is yet?” He asks Aizawa.

You turn to him with a frown. Of course, he didn’t actually care about you. You just met! Not to mention you were a part of his mission.

He has the sense to look slightly ashamed before nodding to Hawks.

“Good, now,” he says turning back to you. “Why is Dabi following you? You know more than you are letting on.” He spoke as he walked closer and closer, wings growing larger. You suppose it’s supposed to intimidate you.

You roll your eyes at him for like, the fifth time that day and brush past him. You walk over to Mio who had fallen asleep watching your butterfly. You smooth the hair out of her face before turning back to the men, giving them a warning look and asking them to keep their voices down.

“Fine,” you huffed, tired of them just staring at you, doing nothing. “I dated Dabi for a little while. Back when I was younger and foolish and my morals were… well, flexible.”

“What did you do to make him want to follow you?” Hawks was growing impatient.

“We fought, I won, he told him if I ever came back I better watch my back. I reckon he’s making good on that promise. I broke his heart, but that was so long ago. But, I mean,” you paused and looked back up at the two men who were looking at you incredulously, “he is really good at holding grudges.”

Hawks looked like he was going to have an aneurysm and Aizawa… well his face was unreadable. Except, there was a touch of something else in his eyes.

"Well you aren't going anywhere for a while," Hawks state with all the authority he could muster, still going over everything in his mind. "Better get comfy."

"No," you state clearly. Stopping everyone in their tracks.

"Excuse me?" Hawks says, stepping forward, extending his wings.

"You heard me," you reply, stepping forward yourself, fingers itching to create one of your many weapons. "If Dabi gets even a hint that y'all know and are protecting me, a whole lot more people are going to get hurt. So no, we aren't staying here. We are going to go home. If I have to have someone to guard us we are going to make it look as natural as possible. If you don't agree to my terms I'm just gonna take Mio and we are going back on the run."

Hawks looks like he wants to scream and Aizawa looks amused. You turn to pick Mio up, then you head to the door.

"Aizawa, you've been seen in public with me. You can be our guard. You'll come over at 6 tonight where we will have a meal, then you'll stay late because we drank maybe a little to much sake, then you'll sleep on the couch. Got it?"

Aizawa nods, completely amused by Hawks' bewilderment, and pats him on the back once before walking out himself.

#my hero academia #my hero academia fanfiction #my hero academia fanfic #my hero academia fic #mha fanfiction #mha fanfic #mha fic #eraserhead x reader #eraserhead x gn!reader #gender neutral reader #aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #eraser head #eraser head x reader

[hufflautia]

In Sickness and in Health

Requested by @milk-leaves!​  

Warnings: A very brief and non-explicit sexual implication

Summary: Slytherin catches the flu. Luckily, her husband is there to help. However, her stubborn nature and insistent claim that “she can’t be sick because she’s never been sick in her entire life” makes it a little difficult for Hufflepuff to assist her. Marriage isn’t always easy, but with the proper amount of love and patience, everything works out in the end. 

Slytherin grabs the garbage can just in time to vomit into the basket. When she finishes, she wipes her mouth with a grimace and rests her forehead against the bed. 

“Honey?” 

She looks up and sees Hufflepuff standing by the door, his forehead puckered as he takes in her appearance. Her hair unruly, she’s slumped on the floor of their bedroom, looking tired and pale. 

Usually, Slytherin would be happy to see her husband. However, all she feels is irritation in the wake of his presence, and she leans against the side of the mattress once more. 

“What are you doing here,” she croaks, eyeing him as he approaches her and kneels down. “I thought you had to go to the Ministry today.” 

“It was a minor emergency, so I left early.” He regards her carefully. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” 

Hufflepuff frowns. “But you threw up.” 

“Yeah, I’ve been doing that a lot today,” she murmurs weakly. Noticing his eyes widen, she snorts. “I’m not pregnant if that’s what you’re thinking. I got my period today.”  

He gives her a sympathetic look. “I imagine it’s been a very fun day for you.” 

“The best I’ve ever had, actually.” 

Leaning in ever so slightly, that’s when Hufflepuff sees it—the faint flush on her face, the way she folds her arm around herself, the tinge of hoarseness in her voice.  

He reaches out and touches Slytherin’s forehead. Her skin feels hot and cold at the same time. She bats away his hand in annoyance. “What are you doing,” she snaps, scowling at him. Her anger immediately falters when she notices how his eyebrows rise, a look of surprise mixed with hurt spreading onto his face. 

“You have a fever,” he confirms quietly. 

Slytherin resists a frown. “But I never get sick.” 

“Well, it happens to the best of us.” He gets up. “Wait here, I’ll get some medicine.” 

“I don’t need it,” she calls after him but he’s already in the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets. He returns with a bottle and a small cup. Taking a seat before pouring red liquid into the cup, he ignores her when she says his name in a tone of indignation, insisting that she isn’t sick.

Hufflepuff hands it to her. “Drink,” he says firmly. When she juts her chin out and pouts, he lets out an exasperated sigh. “Honey, I know you don’t want to, but it’ll make you feel better.”

She still doesn’t move. This time, he returns her unyielding stare with one of his own. His tone is hard and demanding as he warns, “I’m not gonna repeat myself.” 

Slytherin grudgingly brings the cup to her lips. If she didn't feel like complete shit right now, she would keep pushing his patience for fun. She’d even be a little turned on by his authoritative voice. Probably both. 

She immediately makes a face as the medicine slides down her throat. “This tastes like ass,” she grumbles, pressing the back of her hand against her mouth and setting the cup down. 

He chuckles. “Medicine tends to taste that way.” He stands and offers his hand. “Come. I’m sure a warm shower sounds perfect right now.”  

A faint smile twitches at the corner of her mouth. “How’d you know,” she asks, taking his hand. A wave of nausea sweeps over her when she gets up, and he quickly plants his hands on either side of her. 

“I’m your husband,” he pulls her closer, “I know these things.” 

Slytherin wraps her arms around him. “Will you carry me to the bathroom,” she mumbles into his sweater. 

He presses a kiss to the top of her head before picking her up bridal-style with care. 

“Do you even have to ask?” 

A couple of hours pass. Feeling drowsy from the medicine, Slytherin took a long nap before waking up to the smell of homemade soup. Hufflepuff cooked something for her while she was sleeping. To her dismay, he also gave her another cup of NyQuil, but she drank it without any resistance. Afterwards, her headache subsided and was diminished to a dull pain, which is nothing compared to before. 

Now, she is laying in bed, feeling comfortable and content as she snuggles with her husband while he reads her favorite book out loud. She’ll probably never openly admit it but she loves when they cuddle. Listening to the smooth drawl of his voice, she catches a few words while dozing in and out of sleep. Her lips curve into a smile. He’s getting to her favorite part where he speaks in a ridiculous voice when reading the dialogue of an ancient wizard. 

Hufflepuff had read the book to her before when they were dating. He used the same wise and raspy voice as he uses now. At that moment, as she attempted to hold in her laughter, she knew he was the one. Funnily enough, he ended up proposing to her a month later. 

Feeling the familiar tug in her heart that can only be classified as complete adoration, Slytherin musters enough strength to pull herself out of the cozy arms of sleep. She shifts around so that she can properly see his face and says his name tenderly. 

“What is it,” he asks, putting the book down. “Is your headache still bothering you?” 

“A little, but...I’m sorry for being mean to you before. I was angry at you for no reason, but it might’ve been because of my period, and you already know how bad my PMS gets sometimes, but I still feel terrible about being so rude because you’re so great and sweet and you were only trying to help but I was being so difficult and I think I’m just not really used to people taking care of me, so I was trying to handle this flu on my own but I still shouldn’t have acted that way—and I literally hit your fucking hand and I hate myself for it because you don’t deserve it at all, you deserve so much more than whatever I have to offer...” Words continue to spill from her mouth as she rambles on and on, not bothering to pause for a breath of air. 

Hufflepuff says her name and she finally stops, staring back at him with a contorted expression as if she were trying to back tears. He cups her cheek, to which she leans into his warm touch. “Please don’t worry about that anymore, honey, it’s okay. Honestly. I’ve been with you long enough to know that there’s no one else I would rather be with but you. Even with your stubbornness, I love you all the same. Maybe even a little more.” He gives her a reassuring smile as she looks back at him with watery eyes. “Just focus on resting for now, okay?”

She nods and tries to smile back, getting a little choked up in the process. His words are laced with so much endearment that she realizes just how lucky she is to have someone like him to spend the rest of her life with. She puts her hand over his. 

“Thank you,” she whispers, “for loving me as you do.”  

His gaze is so unimaginably soft that, for a split second, Slytherin wonders how it’s even possible. He leans in, and she happily closes the distance. 

One might think that as time passes for a married couple, the love begins to stale. This is not true in their case, for the flutter in her stomach intensifies as they kiss. She can only focus on how soft he feels against her lips, how he invades all her senses in the best way possible. Her fingers grip the front of his shirt while his hand rests against the curve of her neck when they finally pull apart. Their noses brush against each other as they lock eyes. 

“I love you,” she breathes. 

“I know,” he murmurs. “And I love you.” 

“Good. Because we’re stuck with each other forever.” 

“I’d be sad if we weren’t,” he replies with a grin, retrieving the book. “Shall I continue reading?” 

She beams at him before laying her cheek against his chest. “Yes please.” 

Hufflepuff flips to the page he left off from. While he reads, he traces patterns around her stomach, as if he's painting a beautiful masterpiece over her skin. 

A couple of chapters in, Slytherin momentarily closes her eyes as his melodious voice washes over her. 

The sound of his steady heartbeat lulls her to sleep. 

FIN.

~

Check out my masterlist! | Kind comments and reblogs are most appreciated :) 

AUTHOR’S NOTE: 

Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. It took me a while to come up with an idea for this (also, to the person who requested this, I hope you are satisfied :D). My friend had the idea of “a vacation gone horribly wrong”. It was a fantastic idea - I even made a google doc for it and everything, but I did not write out a sufficient amount of general details for it because nothing solid came to mind. Then, when I was trying to go to sleep, I came up with this idea and I am very happy with how it came out!! 

I modeled Hufflepuff after Steve Rogers to some extent. He has that gentle giant type of vibe. He is kind and loving, but he’ll be stern if he needs to. I have to admit, the thought of making a series about slytherpuff married life has crossed my mind while writing this one-shot. I am still contemplating it. If I do create the series, it won’t be restricted to this couple specifically, but I will consider writing more stories about them because I really do adore their dynamic! Anyways, if I were to write that series, it would be different stories with different couples. It might not even be classified as a series but more as a collection of slytherpuff married life stories. Also, there would probably be at least one nsfw story included in that collection, but I will not be writing any smut until after my birthday, which is in April. *HI THIS IS JESSICA FROM THE NEXT DAY, aka the day that i’m gonna post this and im just going over the fic. while i was sleeping, i just thought of ANOTHER marriage fic so i think im going to make a married life collection of storiessss :D :D :D!!! however, im still wondering about whether i should write it, because the story idea is a little eh. if anyone has any other marriage life ideas, please feel free to let me know! before, i was a little hesitant on making a collection because it was hard for me to think of ideas for this fic when the request came in. hopefully, that will change in the future. also why do i keep coming up with good ideas for stories in my sleep lmao* 

Writing this story was fun. I stayed up until 2 am for four straight days while writing. Lmao how odd is it to see those two sentences right next to each other? In all honestly, I didn’t feel like it was 2 am because I was in the zone. I just kept writing until I told myself to go to bed because the future morning me will regret it--and lemme tell you, she really does. Anyways, I used my own experience with medicine for fevers. I absolutely hate the taste of NyQuil; I remember when my mom would make me drink small cups of it whenever I was sick. Also, when I was writing Sly’s rambling bit, I did not put any periods in the paragraph because I wanted to make it seem like she’s going on and on and isn’t stopping. However, I thought it to be weird and so I put the paragraph into the “translate to english” thing so that I could press the audio icon and hear what it sounds like. I’m happy to report that it was one of the funniest things I’ve ever heard in my entire life because her monotone voice saying all that was very amusing. 

There is no telling what fic I will post next. Last week, I was all over the place and working on several fics, moving from one to another when I got bored of the story. Also, my mental state is not the best at the moment. I’ve been feeling self-conscious about my writing recently, and I’m probably gonna go through another episode of that because this is gonna be the first fic that marks the end of tag lists and so this is probably gonna be an underrated fic because fewer ppl will see it. I came to realize that it’s not me who’s writing bad fics; even though I tag people, there’s a noticeable lack of interaction, so it’s likely that some of my followers just aren’t active anymore. There was a fanfic writer who I really like because their loki fics are amazing. A few weeks ago, I found their other blog that I was not aware of beforehand and they made a post 3 weeks ago saying that they would no longer be writing fics because there were barely any people interacting with them. She seemed really upset, saying stuff like “I guess my fics just aren’t good enough”, “no one can save me anymore” (I know that sounds very ominous but she was insinuating “no nice comments will make me change my mind”), and “I feel like deleting my blog because there’s a sense of failure in just leaving them there”. This made me really sad, and a part of me was afraid that one day, I would adopt a similar mindset. However, I know that there’s a group of people who will always be there to read my stories, so I’m gonna try to hold onto that idea and continue writing to make you happy and myself happy as well. Also I just realized that I always include one part in my author’s note that’s just sad for some reason :’)

ANYWAYS, I remember making a post a longgggg time ago that said “I promise that I will finish the slytherpuff series if it’s the last thing I do”. That has changed; I plan to post all the chapters leading up to their requited love at last (aka the part in which they actually get into a relationship together). After that, there’s still a bunch of chapters but they’re just fluffy bits, i.e. rainy day, they bake together, oop it’s one of their birthdays, etc. In other words, they aren’t essential to the plot. I could turn them into one-shots and stuff, but some of the chapters relate to the characters’ lives. In addition, it’s sweet to see their relationship progress. For those chapters regarding fluffy bits of their relationship, I won’t feel incentive to write them right away because their love is already requited and I also have two big series that I would rather work on. However, I’m not gonna start another series yet because I don’t wanna leave you on a cliffhanger in Chapter 3 and suddenly start writing a whole other series. The plan is to post all the chapters for the slytherpuff series leading up to the moment when they start dating (Chapter 7 or 8 will probably be when they actually get together). That way, there’s no rush to complete it because it’s just easy and sweet since they’re already in a relationship and readers aren’t anxiously waiting to see what happens next. After that, I will probably begin writing the other series, which will be different from the original slytherpuff series. You’ll see why. Once in a while, I will go back to the original series and write for that when I feel like it. 

I’m trying my best to finish writing Chapter 4 :( It is gonna be long - I’ve already written about 7 pages and I am thinking of splitting it into two parts. If I do, I might be posting part 1 soon because it’s kind of already done. Then again, I like the idea of just posting it all at once. We’ll see! I’m gonna try to work on that after this. My desire to write is sporadic, but comments and interactions from readers are very impactful in terms of my motivation to write, so be sure to leave feedback if you can! I’ll see you all again the next time I post a fic. Thanks for reading!

Tags: 

@slytherpuff-shenanigans @axieleration @sunnniiee @just--another--bean @determinedpines @zenobiagrace @asterinflower @cinnamon-roll-unicorn @mossy-axolotl @dumbbitch11 @hitchhiker-of-the-galaxy @notsowiseravenclaw  @arianatorpotterhead @eatacrackerandstop @luciferswife16 @walkinganomaly @asunshinepuff @lewispoolerpayton @adreameratdawn @thewitcheswords @oncergleekpotterhead @princessstoopid @stardustzainy @flvrqnce @multi-fandom-nutjob @eunnieah @iamahufflepuff @1hufflepuff @introvertedrae @princessstoopid @jasminedayz @magnoliamermaid @HOPEFUL-HUFFLEPUFF-PEEVES @peanut-in-the-goal @pufflehuff929 @sophiexteresa @da-fox-rangerrr @dawinehouse @shipping-book-keeper @xxavaloraxx @silverhetdanes @im-a-solanum-lycopersicum @elegantcroissantplaidpony @theoriginaljohnwatsonsblog @theoriginalsherlockholmesblog @vickeyunicorn @arianatorpotterhead @hmilkwhoney @simpering-simpleton @grandcyclecreation @sweetinvisiblewriter @marvelenthusiast10 @mvlpksvthisht @qiaopa @beardedhumanoid @jadefox05 @justanotherperson @inkedintothepaper @minty-malfoy @trippy-morgan @fangirlgeekandfreak @boilyourteeth @absentmindeduniverse @colettedelaurel @halfelven1 @happy-puff @coloring-bud @in-love-with-remus-lupin @autumnpleaves @crakencc @flyme--tothemoon @hedgepuffgirl @littleemotionalpanda @pancakes-and-sugar @korra4321 @aquietkindofthunder @qixnsriess @porksoba @thatfann @hellounicorn @i-have-a-bad-feeling @aasa2102 @zuko-28 @annie-mcl @clementines-x @writtenfoxscreams @randomwriter23 @cryingabtwandavision @coolninjavoid @urfaveslytherin @malfoys-demigod @tumlbr-trasher @violayaxley @wolfpack-arts-industries99 @zainieees-stuff @milk-leaves @priii @capt-sparrow @blueberry-9-pancakes @stressy-depressy   

#Hogwarts #harry potter #slytherpuff #hufferin #hufflepuff x slytherin #hufflepuff and slytherin relationship #hufflepuff #slytherin #hogwarts imagine #hogwarts houses #slytherin x hufflepuff #hufflepuff-x-slytherin #slytherin-x-hufflepuff #slytherin and hufflepuff #hufflepuff and slytherin #cedric diggory #hufflepuff pride #hogwarts fanfiction #harry potter oneshot #slytherpuff oneshot #slytherin and hufflepuff relationship #hufflepuff and slytherin fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction

[justcourttee]

Trigger warning: After posting one too many of Lila’s lies, the ladyblog faces severe backlash and lawsuits. One of the recent is from a respected journalist that Lila lied about being friends with their kid. Alya is facing defamation and the journalists Child had recently passed away further upsetting the latter. Alya tried to explain, but Lila quickly throws her under the bus. This is not Bashing, except actions have consequences and have to live with them. Lila salt is welcome though

I hope this is kind of what you were thinking about. I did my best to keep it as accurate as I could with French Law :)

Here

Alya couldn’t believe she was here.

As she stared at the multitude of cameras, all vying for her attention, she felt the sudden need to make herself smaller. Nino’s strong hand on her back, urging her forward gave her the strength she needed to make it up the courthouse steps. Her eyes scanned the crowd looking for one person in particular but alas, they were nowhere to be seen.

Instead, she found two people she had hoped would miss this little event. Front row stood Marinette and Adrien, they’re eyes feigned with concern as she took the last step before the entrance. If only she could reach them, get them to testify on her behalf, but why would they change their minds now? It’s not like she hadn’t begged them too at the beginning of the month before everything had gone south so quickly.

As the doors were opened, the blinding light subsided as she was quickly ushered to a small room away from her adversaries that had lined the hallways, all ready to testify against her. She couldn’t believe how many there were.

“We should be safe here Miss Césaire, you didn’t talk to anybody on your way in, right? Journalists are like sharks, one small taste of blood and they’ll turn it into a frenzy.”

Alya scoffed at her attorney. She knew how journalism worked. You needed to make the story big and eye-catching otherwise nobody would bother to read it. It’s why she loved Lila so much. With her, the LadyBlog never had a dull moment.

“We have thirty minuted to prepare. Normally, they would not allow this public prosecution, but you and your friend have managed to upset a lot of people, Miss Césaire.”

Alya bit her tongue as she sunk lower in her seat. Where was her friend now? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . “All rise for the honorable Judge Bethany Abadie.”

Alya stood slowly, trying not to let her stance waver as the sound of dozens of cameras sounded through the room.

“You may be seated.”

She felt a small hand lightly press down on her shoulder as her attorney tried to get her to sit, but she couldn’t. She felt frozen in place. Seeing the judge made everything feel so real and not seeing her made Alya see red.

“Miss Césaire, I suggest you sit down. Your charges today are quite serious under the eyes of French law and with the number of people attempting to sue your website, you better hope your defense team has an ace up their sleeve.”

It was like something snapped inside of her as she curled in on herself, trying her best to disappear in front of the courtroom.

“Now, let’s get started. In the case of the people of France vs. Alya Césaire, the defendant is charged with defamation of character and defamation of the deceased. How does the defendant plead?”

“Not guilty, your honor.”

Her eyes wandered over to her defense attorney who looked no better than she did when the words came out of his mouth.

“I see, you were given an option to accept the price that the collective individuals offered you in addition to taking down your blog, instead you chose to fight their lawsuits. You do realize Miss Césaire that if the jury finds you guilty on these charges, that could mean up to a year in jail in addition to €12.000 per assailant?”

Alya mustered enough strength to nod much to the judge's dismay.

“Very well then, the prosecution team may lead with their first witness.”

One by one, every scoop she had posted unfolded and crumbled before her eyes. Jagged Stone denying writing a song for her friend, denying ever having a ‘filthy feline’. Clara Nightingale denying her friend’s involvement in any of her choreography, claiming it would be child labor. And worse of all, Nadja Chamack and her claim that her friend never knew her daughter, that Alya saying her child was brash and rude and an overall unpleasant kid was defamation.

“And what proof do you have that my client isn’t telling lies about your daughter, you do know that every child is different when they’re away from their parents.”

Alya breathed a sigh of relief as her attorney laid into the reporter. Just maybe, she had a chance of walking out of here unscathed.

“Because she’s dead.”

An eerie silence fell over the courtroom as Alya’s face ashened. No. That couldn’t be true. She had seen Manon the other day. She just knew she had. She went over to Marinette’s and the girl was there, as bratty as ever. But now she couldn’t remember the last time she had been to Marinette’s.

“How long has she been dead?”

“Councilman, I object!” The judge’s hammer slammed down, echoing throughout the room.

“No, no, it’s alright. Those two monsters need to hear what they put me through.”

Nadja met Alya’s eyes, not even bothering to wipe the tears that streamed down her face as righteous anger poured into her stare.

“My daughter died five months ago, a terrible car accident. I begged my team to leave it out of the report and only told my closest friends and family. The funeral was a week later and my heart remained shattered at the thought that some reckless driver hadn’t paid attention to her crossing the crosswalk, just like I had taught her.”

Nadja took a breath, trying to level her voice as the lump in Alya’s throat grew bigger.

“Three months ago, I ran across the Ladyblog. While it had mostly turned into a gossip column for this Lila Rossi person, I used to check it all the time when it had just started out. I honestly considered Alya as the next big reporter as she was always at the scene throwing herself into danger to get the scoop. It was admirable.”

Her praises caused the girl to flinch as if she had been struck.

“But as I clicked on the newest video labeled ‘Angel or Devil?: Is Manon Chamack really as everyone believes her to be?’, my heart immediately sank. Both girls sat on-screen as Lila Rossi went on for ten whole minutes about the time she babysat Manon during my interview with Prince Ali. She said my baby was a horror show and Alya agreed saying the few times she had helped Marinette were nightmares.”

Nadja lost her composure as the final word fell out of her mouth. Her tears were ugly as she barely managed an audible ‘could I be excused?’. The judge nodded calling for a recess before allowing the defense team to call their testimonies on character, but Alya couldn’t move. Nadja’s face was burned into her mind. She waited until the courtroom was cleared before standing, trying her best to swallow the lump in her throat but to no avail.

As her feet trudged behind her attorney, she kept replaying Marinette’s words from the beginning of the month.

‘You don’t want me to be expert testimony to your character because I’ll tell them the truth. And I’d doubt you’d like that very much at all.’

She couldn’t understand where all that anger had come from, all that pain, but now she did. Alya didn’t even want to know what her attorney had up his sleeve because honestly? She felt like she didn’t deserve a defense at all.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Only one testimony?”

Her attorney nodded weakly as the judge sighed, probably already having determined Alya’s fate. She knew if it was her up there looking down on someone else, she would have given the maximum punishment the court allowed.

“The defense calls to the stand Lila Rossi.”

Alya sat up straight in her seat, her blood running cold as the sly fox breezily took the stand. Her smirk was brief and directed toward the auburn-haired girl, but it dropped into fake sympathy, a single forced tear rolling down her face.

“What can you tell us about Alya Césaire?”

“Oh goodness, where do I start?” Lila brought a tissue up to her eyes, lightly dabbing at the nonexistent tears.

“She coerced me into telling all those terrible lies about the good people of Paris. Every single one of my interviews was typed up and rehearsed several times before we even shot the tape. Here’s the proof,” With a fake sob, she handed the judge several transcripts, all seemingly printed from Lila’s email.

Alya clenched her fists underneath the table. She was lying. Straight through her teeth. Alya was wondering how Lila managed to evade the charges that were on both of them, but here it was lying in front of her. Lila was going to throw her under the bus.

“She’s a monster. She ditched her own best friend because she wouldn’t lie for her on the stand. She threatened to make everyone hate me if I didn’t keep up the lies. She knew about my disease and took advantage of it.”

Alya gritted her teeth as her attorney tried his best to get the girl off the stand, but it was too late. The damage had been done. One look at the jury and Alya knew. She was done for. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . …

The jury took a whole thirty minutes before they returned with her verdict.

Guilty.

€48.000 to settle each lawsuit, the permanent closure of her LadyBlog, and 300 hours of community service. Lila received none of it.

“That’s not fair!”

Alya’s head whipped around to where the voice came from, her eyes landing on her former best friend.

“Young lady, I advise that you sit down and allow this court to adjourn peacefully. The verdict has been decided.”

“But Lila was just as much a part of this as Alya. In fact, if you even bothered to look at the interviews, Lila egged her on, there’s no way it was all scripted. Scrub Alya’s computer, I bet you won’t find a single email.”

“Young lady, I’ll give you one more chance, Sit down.”

Marinette opened her mouth, but she abruptly closed it when she felt a soft touch on her shoulder. Her gaze shifted down to where Alya stood, a small smile peeking through her tears.

“Thank you Marinette, I really do appreciate it, but it’s time I took responsibility. I should have never trusted her too good to be true stories in the first place. I should have never hurt my best friend in the first place.”

Marinette hesitated, but as she stared into the auburn-haired girls glassy eyes, she understood as well. With a nod, she returned to her spot between Adrien and Nino, her own eyes glazing over as she watched her former best friend escorted out by her attorney and a few cops.

Once more, Alya was blinded by the flashing lights as she was ushered to her attorney’s car. As the doors shut firmly, her attorney released a sigh before jumbling his keys around, trying to find the ignition.

“Well, it could’ve gone worse if we’re honest here.”

Alya didn’t bother to respond. She simply stared out the window, her mind racing at a thousand miles a minute. Only one thought stood prominent above the rest.

Alya couldn’t believe she was here.

#miraculous ladybug #lila salt #alya cesaire #mlb fanfic

[thedeliverygod]

Happy Valentines Day! I’m posting this a day early out of both eagerness and the fact that there’s a big ice storm floating overtop of me right now that is threatening to knock my power out.

CULTURAL NOTES FOR THIS FANFIC: Valentines Day in Japan is a day when girls give chocolates to their romantic interests/significant others but also to friends. Obligation chocolate is what you would give to friends—affordable, non-pricey chocolate. Honmei chocolate is either homemade or expensive chocolate and is given with romantic intention.

On White Day (March 14th) the boys get to return the favor. And yes, I plan on writing a white day fic as well.

AO3

FF.net

Just as Sweet

Hiyori was nodding along and smiling as Yama excitedly discussed her plans for Valentine’s Day with her boyfriend as they walked home. Still, as happy as she was for her friend, her thoughts drifted to whether or not she should do anything other than obligation chocolate for Yato as she did for the rest of her friends.

“And you, Hiyori?” Ami’s voice knocked her out of her internal debate.

Blinking in confusion, she questioned back, “What about me?”

“What about that guy on your phone sensei caught you staring at? Are you doing anything for him?” She wiggled her eyebrows, intrigued.

Hiyori felt like her face had caught fire, unable to form words.

“That’s right! Who is that guy, anyway?” Yama immediately jumped in, moving closer as they slowed to a stop.

“H-he’s just a friend!” She managed to finally spit out, though she quickly felt herself growing light headed with embarrassment.

The two other girls looked at each other, clearly not buying it.

“Right.” Yama dragged out, “But! You do have a picture, right? Show us, just for the fun of it.”

“If he’s just a friend, it’s no big deal, right?” Ami echoed her sentiments mischievously.

“You two are…” Hiyori grumbled to herself, reaching into her pocket with a shaking head as she huffed, “Fine.” As they shared their squeals of success, she sighed to herself as she unlocked her phone and moved to photos. ‘Most of the pictures I have are selfies from him stealing my phone when I’m tutoring Yukine-kun…’

Finding one she deemed as relatively acceptable, she held out her phone and turned her head away, “Here.” Her ears were instantly filled with more high-pitched squeals and she flinched.

“Hiyori!”

“He’s gorgeous! Again, who exactly who is this guy!? How did you meet him?”

She took a breath and shoved her phone back into her pocket, not sure how to respond. “I, um. You know the younger boy I mentioned before that I tutor? They live together.”

Ami squinted, “So you mean he’s his older brother?”

Hiyori shook her head, “No, he’s more like, um… his guardian?”

“So older guys are your thing, huh?” Yama snapped her fingers as she came to her realization. She winked and elbowed Hiyori, “Wow, and I thought being a closet wrestling fan was your only rebellious trait.”

She covered her face with both of her hands, pleading, “Stop.”

Yama and Ami shared a laugh before Ami repeated, “So… are you going to make chocolate or anything?”

“I don’t know yet.” Hiyori only slightly moved her hand to answer her friends.

“Why not?” Yama tilted her head, frowning.

Hiyori lowered her hands but turned her head away, her voice soft, “I don’t think he would return my feelings.” Before she knew it, she felt both of her friend’s hands on her shoulders.

“You never know until you try!” Ami gave her a gentle pat, “I think you should go for it.”

“And I think the same!” Yama let go of her to give her a thumbs up with a wide grin, “Besides, wouldn’t it be so fun to go on double dates?”

Hiyori laughed nervously, answering, “Yeah, sure…” Taking another breath, she commented, “Thanks, both of you.”

“Of course.” They both flashed more smiles and continued forward.

She returned as much of a smile as she could muster, but her feelings were bittersweet. ‘It’s so much more complicated than I can tell you. I wish I could. And I wish you could meet everyone, but… even I’m not supposed to be as involved as I am.’

Now that dinner was finished, the time had come to go through with her plan. The only problem was she hadn’t quite figured out how to ask Yato how to come by himself and not bring Yukine. As much as she loved the younger boy, she very much did not want him to be present for what was essentially going to be spilling her heart out to his god.

After going through various scenarios in her head, she decided to keep it plain and simple. Her heartbeat so loud that it was ringing in her ears, she typed out her text on her phone.

Can you come over soon? And by yourself if possible.

She hesitantly hit send and held her breath as she waited. Finally, her phone beeped to signify Yato’s response.

Uhhh sure. Is everything okay?

She took a breath before answering.

Yes everything’s fine

After another brief moment of silence, her phone beeped again.

Just give me a few minutes

Her heart continued to beat erratically within her chest, making the time pass both impossibly slow and fast at the same time. So, when her phone eventually rang, she wasn’t sure if she felt ready or not. In her hesitation, the phone rang several times before she finally hit the answer button.

“I had to sneak away from Yukine.” He announced as he appeared in a flash of bright light, “And it wasn’t easy, so you’d better make it worth it, Hiyori.” He finished with a wide grin.

Her mouth already dry at the sight of his smile, she swallowed and apologized, “S-sorry.”

“You getting sick? Your voice sounds kinda off.” He tilted his head and took a step closer.

Hiyori quickly shook her head, “No, no. I just could probably use some water…”

“On it!” Yato volunteered excitedly, dashing out her bedroom door before she could even get a word in.

Exasperated, she collapsed backward onto her bed and took the opportunity to at least try and calm herself down. Of course, all progress she made vanished as soon as he popped back in the door.

“Here you go,” He kneeled down and held it out.

Sitting back up, she nodded gratefully as she took it into her hands and took a sip. Sitting the glass down carefully on her desk, she looked back up to Yato, “You can’t just wander freely around the house like that, Yato. What if my big brother had been home?”

“I would just say I’m getting a glass of water?” He shrugged, “I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Hiyori. He’s kind of a weirdo himself.”

‘You’re completely missing the point.’ She held her palm up to her forehead, “If you say so.”

“So, really,” Yato sat down on the bed, across from her, “What’d you call me over for?”

She met his eyes and let out slowly, “I wanted to… give you something.”

His eyes widened curiously as he repeated, “Give me something?”

Hiyori nodded before looking down to her lap sheepishly.

“Oh—that’s right. It’s Valentine’s Day. I appreciate the thought, but I don’t really need obligation chocolate or anything.” He gave a small, forced laugh, “Of course I’ll take anything to Yukine, Kofuku and Daikoku, though—”

“I-it is chocolate, but it’s not out of obligation…” She still didn’t meet his gaze, reaching to the drawer in her desk to pull out a white box with a red bow, “…I-I made it myself, so it may not be the best, but I think it’s okay.”

There was a brief pause but Yato started to call out her name, “Hiyori—”

“Just let me get this out, okay?” She forced a smile as she looked up and he nodded, clearly looking concerned. “I’m sort of just using Valentine’s Day as an excuse to say all of this because I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now, but I didn’t know how to.”

She slid the chocolate box towards him, while getting up from the bed and beginning to pace around her room as she explained, “I realized I was in love with you back when you were gone. Kazuma-san sort of helped me come to that conclusion even if… it wasn’t exactly in the nicest way, to put it lightly.”

“What? What did he do?” Yato asked, his voice sharp and dark.

Hiyori glanced back at him briefly, “Don’t—don’t worry about it right now. He’s apologized since then. Anyway, we’ve obviously had a lot of important things going on that needed your full focus. Especially helping Yukine-kun get settled again. So, I didn’t want to say anything about my feelings, because I don’t really know how you feel. I know you really care about me and sometimes go over the top with that… but I don’t know how you really feel.”

She turned back to him but kept her eyes low, her hands clasped together, “So I held it in, at least until now. I know there’s never really going to be a perfect time, but I also don’t think I can keep lying to myself. Or to you, either. I just hope… no matter what, we can still be friends. Because I can’t imagine my life without you. That’s why I’ve told you over and over that I don’t want to cut our ties and that I don’t want to lose you.”

Yato wordlessly slipped off the bed and stood up.

Just as Hiyori felt the tears start to drip down her face, all of the built-up emotions finally pouring out, she felt him wrap his arms around her in a tight embrace. His face buried against her neck, she soon felt his own tears wetting her skin.

She wasn’t sure if she should laugh or feel worse, “I’ve got you crying now, too?” She reached up over his shoulders to wipe at her own eyes.

“Well, yeah.” He answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, adding a sniffle as he finished. He pulled back from her slightly, his hands lingering at her shoulders, “Hiyori, you… how do I even put this.” He let out a breath, “For so long I’ve been a minor god, no name, no shrine, nothing to hold on to. And then I met you and… you helped me with Yukine. You helped me understand him and become a better god so that I could take care of him like he deserved. You built me my first shrine. You’ve showed me time and time again that all my efforts to change aren’t useless. How could I not love you?”

Hiyori paused and swallowed, “I appreciate you saying that—but I’m not sure if you mean it in quite the same way.”

“Not the same way…?” Yato repeated, looking her over with a confused look.

“When I say I love you, I mean as so much more than just a friend. Kazuma-san and Tenjin-sama told me that gods—” She didn’t get to finish before he reached up to cup her face, leaning forward to press his lips against hers.

He only lingered for a moment before he pulled away, a small smile spreading across his features, “I have no idea what those two said, but I’m pretty sure I know what I mean.” He moved the hand that wasn’t resting against her face to her waist, pulling her ever so slightly closer to him, “But I can prove it to you if you need me to.”

Hiyori’s lips parted in shock and her voice caught in her throat before she managed to answer, “N-no, I believe you.” Her face was so hot she felt like her head was going to explode.

Yato pressed his forehead against hers, letting out, “That’s a relief. Although, I’ll admit I did sort of want to.”

“Of course you did.” She sighed in response before they both let out a round of laughter. “But in all seriousness,” She pressed her lips to his, “I love you.”

He answered her kiss eagerly when given the chance before giving his answer, “I love you too.” With that, he moved his hand to the back of her head and pulled her into a tight embrace again.

#noragami #yatori #noragami fanfiction #my writing

[hillariat]

Bubbline fic finished!

Posted the final chapter of my Bubbline fic, check it out!

Also huge thanks to @hehe-food​ for beta-ing both the 3 and the final chapter

Unexpected

Setting: Highschool AU

Status | Wordcount: Complete |  5,770

Tags: Fluff, emotionally confused PB.

Summary: Marceline confesses to her long time friend Bonnie. It takes an unexpected turn and, just as things were back to normal, takes another one.

AKA It's Bonnie's gay awakening.

Read it on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/30298620/chapters/74678148 OR down below

The hurried pat-pat of Bonnie’s footsteps echoed through the hallways. Her legs, exhausted from a student council meeting that dragged on for far too long, begged her to slow down by at least 30%. She ignored them. She really didn’t want to keep Marceline waiting any longer than she had to after all.

When Bonnie reached the music room, she heard a familiar tune being played. Smiling to herself, she pushed the door open and saw Marceline perched upon a table and chair in a seat-footstool combo, strumming on her bass guitar. The raven-haired girl turned to Bonnie and smirked.

"’Sup Brainlord, how’s the prep meet?"

“Terrible, Becky wouldn’t shut up about adding more “tasteful” food to the school breakfast program even though that’s clearly out of our budget. It literally took us over half an hour just to move on to another topic.” Bonnie sighed and continued. “If she wasn’t so high up the pecking order, I’d have kicked her out. Personally.”

Marceline nudged her shoulder.

“I could do it for you”

“And be expelled? No thanks. As much as I hate Becky, I don’t think you leaving is worth it.”

Her heart lurched, practically begging to be freed from her chest. She opted to shrug it off, instead turning away from Bonnie to start packing her bass.

“Maybe I could do a prank instead. Y’know something that says, ‘fuck off from student council or else.’”

Bonnie raised her brows.

“Oh, and what would this prank be?”

By the time the girls left the school building, several rotten sandwiches and a passive aggressively typed note were left in Becky’s locker.

__________________________________________________________

"Thanks again for waiting up for me."

Bonnie entered the front passenger seat of Marceline’s car, inhaling the familiar scent of leather, strawberry and wood that probably came from an acoustic instrument lying around somewhere.

“Dude not this again. I told you, you don’t have to thank me every time I wait up for you. It’s like, our thing to hang out on Tuesdays anyways.”

Bonnie buckled in her own seatbelt whilst Marceline started the engine.

“Still, I appreciate the gesture. Not everyone would wait 2 hours just to have afternoon tea with their friend.”

Marceline felt a blush threaten to reveal itself on her cheeks. She really needed to get those butterflies in her ribs under control. She raised her hand, the other hand focused on driving out of the parking lot. “No. Stop with the sap. You’re turning me into a marshmallow.”

“You’re already a marshmallow, Marshmaline”

She gave a playful whack, accompanied by a glare. “Shut up! I am not a marshmallow, I’m too punk rock!”

Bonnie rolled her eyes, unfazed by the other’s glare. They had long lost their terrorizing effect on her. “Sure you are. Oh! That reminds me”

She dug through her bag, fishing out a pack of guitar strings and handing it to Marceline. “Gauge 9 right?”

“Wha- Bon. You didn’t have to.”

Bonnie waved her hand dismissively. “Nonsense. I distinctly remember a certain someone complaining about forgetting to buy them for 4th week in a row yesterday.” She turned away from Marceline, opting to look at the passing traffic. “and… well, I just happen to pass by the music store when I was at the mall with Lady yesterday.”

Marceline gave her a heartwarming smile.

“Aww, thanks mom”

Bonnie huffed.

“What would you do without me?”

Marceline snorted, smile still evident on her face.

“Forgetting them for another week probably.”

Bonnie chuckled.

“Damn right”

__________________________________________________________

The girls reached their destination, a quaint little café tucked in a quiet neighborhood near their school. Marceline introduced it to Bonnie a while ago, insisting that the red velvet cakes were “to die for”. Bonnie wouldn’t put it the same way, but she did admit that the food was “more than acceptable”. The place quickly became their favorite hangout spot, next to the diner ran by their friend’s ( Finn’s) parents. Though that diner was more of a clique hangout spot. This was more of a 'just them' spot.

They ordered their drinks, an apple pie to share and of course, a slice of red velvet cake for Marceline. They sat at their table, indulging in said items whilst making idle conversation, ranging from the food to Marceline’s music to school gossip.

Bonnie noticed how her shoulders were a little tense, how she would pick and flick her own fingers and how her eyes wandered in a way that said her thoughts weren’t entirely focused on the present. Marceline was clearly bothered by something.

The Bonnie of 5 years ago would’ve pried her incessantly, but now she knew better. Marceline was the kind of person that needed space to figure things out. She would tell Bonnie what was eating at her when she was good and ready. Any prying on Bonnie’s end would lead to scathing remarks and, if allowed to escalate, a fight. Hence, despite the well-meaning itch that urged her to figure out what was bothering her best friend, Bonnie didn’t ask. Respecting Marceline’s boundaries was more important.

When Marceline’s giggling fit died down after a joke about a certain lemon-faced principal , she took a deep breath. She warily made eye contact with Bonnie.

“I need to tell you something. Its -It’s important”

“Okay”. Bonnie nodded and kept her eyes at Marceline expectantly, conveying that Marceline had her full undivided attention. A long, pregnant pause ensued. Bonnie was tempted to break the silence, but Marceline got there first.

“I’m gay.”

Okay. That wasn’t what Bonnie expected. Not that there was anything wrong with being gay, no not at all. Bonnie was just very unfamiliar with coming-out-of-the-closet etiquette. After all, most of her friends were straight.

She was clearly out of her element here. How should she respond to this? Did Marceline want a boisterous congratulation? Or a simple acceptance? In the end, Bonnie did what she always did when she was uncertain about things.

“Okay, what am I supposed to do with that information?”

Marceline raised her brows in surprise. She was expecting more of a reaction to that. Bonnie had just…. rolled with it. Maybe her fears were indeed unfounded. Maybe. It was still too early to tell.

Marceline took a deep breath, gathering what little courage it could provide and continued.

“I’m gay for you. As in, I like you. Like, like-like you.”

For a moment, Bonnie was tempted to make fun of Marceline’s unironic use of “like-like” but knew better than to do that. Instead, she was contemplating her response to it. She knew exactly what she should say, she knew her answer to that obvious unsaid question, but the vulnerable expression on Marceline’s face made her hesitate. Marceline looked so fragile, as if a gentle breeze could shatter her. The only other time Bonnie saw the other like this was when Marceline’s mother had passed.

Bonnie furrowed her brows, bit her bottom lip, and took a deep breath. It was definitely going to hurt, but she was good at making tough decisions for the people she cared about.

“I … don’t feel the same way. I’ve only ever seen you as a friend. I’m sorry Marceline.”

She could see Marceline shattering right in front of her. The girl’s shoulders slumped, a frown formed on her face and, most troubling of all; the light in the girl’s eyes dimmed. For a moment Bonnie wanted to take her words back, to make Marceline beam instead with an acceptance. But she knew from experience that giving false hope was worse than a flat-out rejection, so she kept her mouth shut.

In a flash, Marceline’s demeanor switched. She had a smile plastered on her face and her posture likewise improved. Perhaps it was a prepared response, as if she already knew this was the probable outcome. Though her newfound demeanor couldn’t quite reach her eyes.

“It’s cool. It’s cool.”

She paused as if unsure as to whether she should utter the next line. She opened her mouth, her voice wavered before she could even muster the first word.

“We can still be friends, right?” Accompanied with, again, a vulnerable expression. But this time it came from a girl who was already kicked down.

“Of course.” and Marceline wasn’t the only one who wanted to believe that.

They fell into silence, neither girl looking at each other anymore. There were no more words to be said on the matter. Bonnie glanced at the clock in the café. Time ticked by slowly, as if a second was enough time to write an entire thesis.

She searched for a change of topic, not wanting the silence to stretch into awkward territory. Her eyes wandered the surroundings and found it on their table. She gestured to the item.

“Are you going to finish that cake?” Bonnie’s fork was already threateningly hovering above the slice of cake.

Marceline smirked and hoped she didn’t misread Bonnie’s seemingly playful tone.

“I swear, one day you’re gonna get diabetes Bon. You’re such a sugar slut.”

Bonnie completely ignored her friend’s warning and grabbed the last bit of cake, eating it with a slight smile on her face.

“And you – She pointed to Marceline with her empty fork- are distasteful.”

Marceline laughed at that, the tension now fully leaving her. Bonnie could say the same, though she was just smiling at her friend.

Things were going to be okay.

Chapter 2: Confusion

The coffee cup made a clack as it landed on the table.

“Figured you’d want this.” Marceline flashed a toothy grin, though this one was softer than the usual mischievous one. Still, it was one Bonnie was well acquainted with.

Her stomach squirmed. She blinked. Odd. She didn’t remember having shellfish the night before.

“Uhhm, thanks.” She didn’t know why she fumbled. Marceline always got her coffee for their afternoon study sessions. She took a sip. Caramel Macchiato with an extra shot and drizzle, just the way she liked it, though for some reason, today it tasted a little sweeter.

Marceline plotted herself next to Bonnie and started rummaging through her bag. “So, what’s on the agenda today Bonbon?”

Bonnie scribbled in her notebook, having already started on her work. “Maths. We have 2 assignments due soon so I figured we should start.”

Marceline nodded and got her stuff out. For a good half hour, the only sounds that came from their table were the scrawls of pens, the clicking of calculators, turning of pages and occasionally, some curse words muttered under Marceline’s breath. Eventually though, the relative silence was broken.

“Hey, what’d you get for 3c?”

“69.3”

Bonnie saw a toothy grin appear on Marceline’s face. She frowned and shot a glare in return. That girl better not do wh –

“Thirst much, Bonnibel?”

She groaned. “Really Marceline? Get your head out of the gutter.”

Marceline shrugged. “Hey, I’m not the one writing innuendos as answers.”

“Not my fault the teacher likes putting innuendos as answers”.

Marceline chuckled, then she glanced over to Bonnie’s notebook. “Anyways, how’d you get that number?” She leaned over to get a closer look at Bonnie’s homework, now just close enough for Bonnie to smell what shampoo the other used. It was strawberry. Bonnie took note of Marceline’s face, how her brows scrunched in concentration, how her green eyes always held a beautiful shade of green, how her raven hair cascaded down her face, framing her sharp jawline and how her lips pouted at a formula she obviously didn’t understand. Bonnie wondered if those lips felt soft. Wait, what?

“Earth to Bonnie? You there? Hello?” Marceline waved her hand in front of her face.

“Huh? Oh. Sorry, what did you say?”

“I said what’s the deal with this guy? -She gestured to some convoluted looking math term- How did it get to this?”

“Oh, well..” Bonnie went on to explain how she derived the expression, going through it step by step as she usually did, pushing away any strange thoughts of the girl next to her. They were just a fluke after all. Nothing more than spontaneous curiosity.

__________________________________________________________

It happened again a couple of days later. Marceline was casually humming along to a punk rock song in her car with Bonnie seated next to her, quietly scrolling through her phone. The song was crass, mocking, harsh even, filled with edginess that stereotyped the genre. But somehow when the same song came from Marceline’s vocal cords, hummed in a low tone, it sounded so much more…beautiful. Smooth. Gentle. It felt like a cloud was encompassing her, warm and welcoming.

Bonnie felt her insides turn to jello. Strange how she never noticed Marceline's voice having this effect.

She frowned. Something was up. Lightning never struck twice in the same place after all.

“You got your thinking face on Bonnie. What’s up?”

“Oh. Nothing, I was just zoning out”

Marceline smirked, “Lemme guess, thinking of another experiment? Or wait, OH. Trying to answer one of the greatest mysteries of life.”

Bonnie glanced at her lap. Her hands were fiddling with loose jean threads. “You could say that.”

__________________________________________________________

The rest of the week, and the next, followed the same pattern. Bonnie and Marceline would hang out and Marceline would do something utterly mundane and Bonnie would find herself getting the squirmies. Her insides would twist and turn in all sorts of funny ways and she would find her cheeks embarrassingly warm.

She found herself lying down on her own bed, gazing at the ceiling with a half bolster clutched in her arms and contemplating the confusing experiences of the previous weeks. This was the 5th night in a row she had done this.

She has had both male and female suitors confessing to her before, though none of them were as close to her as Marceline was. However, she never gave them more than a second’s worth of thought as she preferred to utilize her brain’s resources on more important things. Chiefly; her schoolwork, independent science projects and her student council duties.

She blinked. Once. Twice.

Could she…like Marceline?

She frowned; brows scrunched and lips upturned in confusion.

She had never experienced a crush on a girl before. What she had told Marceline was nothing but honest, she genuinely had never seen the other girl in a light that wasn’t platonic. Marceline was indeed only a dear friend to her. Nothing had changed between them, so why did her insides turn to mush when Marceline did something as mundane as laugh at her own joke or open a door for her. It didn’t make any sense.

Bonnie’s clock read 02:14am and she figured she should get some sleep before school. With heavy lidded eyes, Bonnie concluded that she should do what she always did when she was uncertain about things.

__________________________________________________________

Bonnie found her in the music room, as usual. She was alone. Good. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and gripped her bag strap tightly. She didn’t know why she was the one who felt terrified, after all she was the one planning on basically cornering Marceline with a potentially awkward situation. She took a deep breath and entered the room.

Marceline turned to her, ceasing the strum of her bass. She flashed a warm smile. “Hey Bon, what’s up?”

“Marceline, do you want to go on a date?” At the sight of Marceline’s confused face, she added “With me. Romantically.”

Marceline raised her brows, even more confused than before. “Dude, I thought you weren’t into me that way? You said so like 2 weeks ago.”

She was right. Bonnie only hoped that her persuasion skills were good enough. “While it is true that I've never seen you in that way before, I don’t think it’d be a bad idea to try?” She paused, not really sure how to phrase it less awkwardly. “So, let’s go on a romantic date and see how that goes.”

Marceline looked downright offended by that offer. Was there some homosexual etiquette Bonnie was missing out on?

“I don’t need a pity date.”

Oh. OH. Oh god was that it how it sounded like? Bonnie knew she had to rectify the situation and soon.

“No no. It’s not that. It’s…“ Bonnie broke eye contact with Marceline, instead favoring the ground. She wasn’t sure why she felt so flustered, maybe it was because admitting the truth was embarrassing. “I’ve been thinking about us. How I feel about you, ever since that day you confessed.” Bonnie started fiddling with her hands.

Marceline tensed. She didn’t know where this was going, but she was paranoid and listened to every echoing thought in her head that said this was going to end up bad. Crap. She thought she was out of the woods after that day in the café.

”and I know I said that I hadn’t felt anything but platonic towards you before, and that’s true. But now I’m not so sure.”

Marceline furrowed her brows. What did she just say, was she implying that – “I…I might like you romantically. Or not. I don’t know. I was hoping that going on a date would help me figure things out. Its more for me really.”

Marceline blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. Bonnie had…mixed feelings for her? No, rather Bonnie wasn’t sure how she felt. Marceline released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding until now. It wasn’t an ideal outcome, but it was certainly not the worst that could have come from her confession to the redhead.

Taking Marceline’s prolonged silence as a no, Bonnie continued. “I’m sorry. It was selfish of me to even suggest that considering everything you’ve been through. Just forge-“

Marceline raised her hand to stop her babbling. “I get it. Figuring out your sexuality is hard and you’re not exactly swimming in gay friends. I'm down for it. But you have to promise me this.” She looked straight into Bonnie’s eyes, holding down probably the most serious stare she could muster. “The moment you figure out your feelings for me, you have to tell me. Even if it hurts me. Its just-I just need to know as soon as possible.” Her voice wavered. “Please.”

Bonnie nodded, understanding the gravity of this.

Marceline let out a huge breath, visibly relaxing. She smiled.

“Alright. You free Friday night?”

Bonnie smiled back at her. “Yeah, pick me up at 7?”

Chapter 3: Consolidation

Bonnie didn’t think she would be one of those girls. The ones that would empty their entire closet and prance around their clothing littered room wondering why nothing there was good enough for their date. But here she was doing exactly just that.

It was just Marceline after all. They’ve hung out a billion times before.

Except it wasn’t just Marceline was it?

Bonnie groaned; this was infuriating. She dug through another pile of clothes on her bed, burying herself in thoughts of what to wear instead of trying to unpack the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

In the end, she settled for a white sundress. Well, “settle” was a stretch considering she was going to change again if she hadn’t been interrupted by a ring from the front door. She rushed out of her bedroom, hurriedly making her way down wooden stairs with a tap-tap from her feet.

“Is that Marceline?” Her mother called out from a distant room. Knowing her it was probably the living room. Bonnie did get her love of sappy cable TV rom-coms from her after all.

“Yeah, I got it! I’ll be back by midnight.” Bonnie replied. “Alright, text me if your plans change.” After a brief moment of silence, she added, “Oh, and keep yourselves out of trouble okay! I do not want to hear a peep about either of you from the cops again!”

Bonnie giggled, reminiscing that exact event from 6 months ago.

“Oh. Wow.” Bonnie’s gaze was fixated on the sunset, a bleary mix of reds, oranges and yellows fading into dark blues that casted a looming shadow, outlining the town center. Bonnie and Marceline were on top of a ruined four story building without a roof which was nestled on top of a steep hill, giving them a brilliant vantage point that overlooked the entire t-

“Right.” Marceline flashed a cocky smirk. “Told you this place had the best view.” And she wasn’t wrong.

Bonnie scoffed. “Well sorry I thought otherwise when you dragged me through a forest, a chain link fence and an abandoned construction site.”

Marceline snorted. “What did you think I was gonna do?”

“Kill me and the hide the body?”

“Pfft, if I did that, whose homework would I copy of off?”

“Uh,” She tapped her chin, actually giving the question some thought. “Finn’s?”

Marceline looked at her with bewilderment, one eyebrow quirked above the other. “Dude, you know the whole point of copying off someone else is to pass, not fail.” Bonnie huffed, “Okay, fair point. But – "

“Hey, what are you two doing here?! Get down now!”

They snapped their heads to the source of the yelling. Down on the ground floor stood a middle-aged security guard, practically steaming with red-hot fury. Both girls looked at each other, conveying some unsaid message to each other, seemingly in agreement.

Then they ran.

After hopping through several cinder blocks and steel beams sprinkled with a few swears and complaints about thinking the place was abandoned, they got to a chain-linked fence. Knowing that they were pressed for time with the security guard hot on their tail, they opted to try to squeeze through a tiny gap on the bottom of the fence instead of climbing over it as they did before.

Bonnie crawled through just fine, merely getting some scuffs and dirt marks on her pullover. Marceline on the other hand got stuck, her “fashionable” ripped tank top getting caught on stray fence wiring. Both girls rushed to untangle Marceline, but with the stomp-stomp of booted footsteps coming ever closer to them, Marceline pulled Bonnie’s hands away from herself.

“Bon. I’m fine, just.. go ahead without me”

“But- “ Marceline pushed her away, stopping any argument Bonnie would give out.

“Go! I’ll text you when I’m home.” Bonnie stared at her for a moment in concern. Her eyes darted back and forth between her friend and the direction of the encroaching footsteps. Then she blurted,

“Shut the fuck up” and scrambled to get her friend out.

They both got caught.

After a phone call, a drive and long drawn-out conversation between Bonnie's mom and the police, both girls found themselves on the receiving end of a stern mother's gaze whilst seated on Bonnie's couch.

"Explain."

Before Bonnie could get a word out, Marceline started. "It was my idea Mrs. Butler, I dragged Bonnie to the construction site up at the hill near the end of town. I wanted to show her the sunset from up there.”

"The abandoned one?"

Marceline gave a sheepish smile "Well it turns out it wasn’t so abandoned after all".

Mrs. Butler wasn’t so amused. “Uh-huh.” She glanced at Bonnie, who was squirming in her seat from nervousness. "Bonnie, I know it wasn’t your plan but you still tagged along. You’re grounded for a week. That also means no access to the garage lab."

Bonnie groaned but didn’t feel the need to protest that decision. It was fairly light considering they did get the police involved.

Her mom turned to Marceline. "And Marceline. It’s late so you can stay over, but in the morning, I am going to have a talk with your father, got it?"

"Yes ma'am."

“Good, now I’m going to head to bed, it's late. Bonnie, be a dear and help set up the couch for Marceline” With that, Mrs. Butler went to her bedroom. Bonnie and Marceline started setting up the couch in silence, bringing out blankets and extra pillows from a nearby closet. Marceline wondered if this would be a good time to say what was on her mind, but was interrupted by Bonnie asking her to grab the duvet. When she dragged the duvet to the couch, Bonnie noticed her stumble a little. And then again. She was limping.

“Marceline, your leg!”

“Huh?” Marceline glanced down, seeing a small trail of blood running from her knees. Her very battered and cut knees. “Oh shit”

Bonnie immediately pushed Marceline to sit down on the couch, then ran off into the kitchen muttering something about alcohol. She then came back with a small first aid kit and began treating Marceline’s wounds. Marceline figured this was as good of a time as any.

“Sorry I got you in trouble. I didn’t know there was security there, I checked out the whole place and didn’t even see any keep out signs.” She fiddled nervously with the duvet below her.

Bonnie flashed a warm smile. “It’s fine, just…” She glanced down at Marceline’s knee and frowned, then looked up and made eye contact with her. “Be more careful next time?”

Marceline gave a reassuring smile.

“I will.”

Ding-ding-ding-ding! God, Marceline was one hell of an impatient girl. Bonnie rushed to open the door, silently cursing herself for zoning out for so long.

Marceline was clad in a red-black plaid flannel paired with a dark grey top and ripped black jeans. 'Classic Marceline,' thought Bonnie. Though in the raven-haired girl’s words it would’ve been classic gay, whatever that meant.

Marceline started, “Hey.” She flashed a gentle, earnest smile. She can do this. She’s good at playing cool. She’s the coolest person in school. Totally cool. Absolutely not having a heart attack right now.

“Hey.”

“You look great tonight.”

Bonnie smiled, soft and sweet. “Thanks, you look nice too.” She gestured to the other.

Marceline snorted. “Pfft, this is my normal outfit, what are you talking about?”

She smirked. Oh, it was all too easy to tease Marceline. “Maybe I think you look nice normally.”

Marceline spluttered into some incoherent murmurs. Her cheeks flushed crimson red and she scrambled to look at anywhere except Bonnie. Bonnie found it amusing.

She noticed that the raven-haired girl had her hands tucked behind her back, as if hiding an object from her view. Before she could ask though, Marceline beat her to it, having recovered from her gay panic.

“I, uhh, got you flowers.” She presented a bouquet of soft pink and white roses.

"Flowers?"

Marceline averted her gaze, instead staring at the small scuff marks on her shoes."Yeah. Figured I'd, uhmm....give you the full date experience." But the flustered cheeks and wavering voice said there was more to it than that.

Bonnie felt a heavy pang strike through her chest. She didn’t say anything about it though, figuring that it was a little too late to back out now. "Thanks."

She took the flowers into the kitchen and quickly deposited them into an empty vase. Then she rushed back out and hopped into Marceline’s car and they drove off. She turned to Marceline. “So, where are we going?”

Marceline smirked. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“At least tell me if it's legal. I promised my mom I wouldn’t get in trouble with the cops tonight.” She crossed her arms and pouted. Marceline thought it was adorable and wondered if she should comment. She didn’t.

Instead, she let out a cackle. “Nah it's totally legal. Don’t worry about it.”

They continued the drive in relatively peaceful silence, with only the radio to fill in the space. Bonnie’s gaze fell to her lap, where she fiddled with the hem of her dress. This was it. She was going on a date. With her best friend. Marceline was her date. Huh. Sounds weird.

Chapter 4: Conclusion

Bonnie glanced at the building, eyes widening at the familiar sight of the local science museum. "I thought you didn’t like science?"

Marceline shrugged, "I don’t. But I'm down for learning about the things you like.” She flashed a gentle smile and Bonnie's insides went into a tumbling frenzy of butterflies and thrumming heartbeats. “Now c’mon, this place closes at 9!"

Before her insides could murder her further, she found herself being dragged to the building, hands intertwined and all. Bonnie couldn’t bring herself to complain.

They grabbed their tickets from the ticketing booth and then trailed through the museum, weaving through various exhibits from electrochemistry to evolution to tectonic plates. They stopped by an anatomy exhibit; Bonnie having decided that the musculoskeletal system was an absolute must-see.

“Oooooh, the knee joint!”

Marceline quirked her brows, “What makes this one so special?”

"Well, it is the largest joint in our body, and y’know, THE joint that enables us to walk.”

“Yeah, but isn’t it like, weak? I always hear about people having busted knees or something.”

“That is true. That’s mostly because it does endure a lot of force when we’re using it, about one and a half times our body weight when walking and eight times when squatting.” Bonnie paused for a moment. ”Oh! And it’s also susceptible to numerous pathological conditions like arthritis”

Marceline hummed absentmindedly, then said, “Heh, y’know, you’re just like osteoarthritis” -she turned to her and flashed a toothy grin-” ’Cause you make my knees weak.”

Bonnie stared at her as if she grew another head. A pause ensued, just as awkward and confused as Bonnie’s expression. It went on for a bit, what with Marceline having no clue how to handle it and Bonnie trying to piece together what in the world just happened. She eventually broke the silence with a snort and a smile.

"Well," She moved closer to the other, interlinking their arms together. "You’re like a cation because you’re positively attractive.”

Marceline doubled down, practically filling the museum with cackles. Her cheeks were tinted red, though whether that was from being flustered or from the strain of laughter Bonnie couldn’t tell.

“Omg Bonnie that’s…” She took a breath in an attempt to get her chuckles to die down. ”That’s so you.” Another fit of laughter hit her.

Bonnie floundered, muttering a brief string of indecipherable words and turning away from Marceline in a vain attempt to hide her beet-red face.

“Hey, hey, c’mon. I didn’t say it was bad. It's….” Marceline rubbed her neck, eyes purposely averting Bonnie’s gaze. “It’s actually really cute.” She flashed a tentative smile. Her cheeks mirrored Bonnie’s.

Bonnie pouted, “Geez, you really can’t take a compliment, can you?”

“Welp, sorry, my parents are as emotionally constipated as I am.”

Bonnie chuckled, then tugged the other along to another exhibit.

They wandered through the exhibits one by one, with Bonnie rambling on about the four ventricles of the heart and some Newtonian mechanics and Marceline occasionally quipping in with a flirt or a joke (usually a pun).

“You wanna go watch a movie? I heard they’re premiering the remake of the Thing at the old theatre downtown” Marceline asked. They had finished a full round at the Museum, just in the nick of time as an announcement declared that the museum was closing. Now they were making their way to the carpark.

Bonnie was a little surprised that Marceline would have heard of the Thing. She didn’t seem like someone who would keep up with Sci-fi remakes, then again, the Thing was also a horror, that could explain it.

Bonnie shrugged. “Sure, sounds good.” She glanced down at their still intertwined hands. It was all still surreal to her. She really was on a date. With Marceline.

“Bon? You okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Just…uhh, zoning out. Yep. Heh.” She really, really wished she was better at lying. Marceline raised her brows but didn’t comment any further, to Bonnie’s relief.

__________________________________________________________

They wound up seated in a small theatre, with Marceline sipping on her soda and Bonnie occasionally munching on popcorn. Bonnie glanced at Marceline, wondering if she should be doing something at this moment. Their arms were still interlinked, still a fairly platonic gesture. She wondered if she should push it, cross the platonic boundary a little bit more. After all Marceline clearly had with her incessant flirting. She supposed she should reciprocate by initiating something too.

And so, cautiously, Bonnie leaned in, slowly placing her head on the crook of Marceline's shoulder. Marceline tensed for a moment, and for that moment Bonnie wondered if she should retreat. But then Marceline relaxed and leaned in.

Cuddling wasn't something the girls ever did together in their friendship. Physical affection, whilst there with casual hand-holding, a hug here and there and such, was always kept at a respectable distance. This was new and if the butterflies in Bonnie’s stomach were anything to go by, it was a good kind of new.

Maybe dating wasn’t so weird after all.

__________________________________________________________

Marceline brought Bonnie to her doorstep in silence. Not the comfortable kind that they often shared. No, this was tense, heavy, as though there was a huge anvil weighing them down. Both of them clearly knew why, it was the end of their date after all. Neither of them really wanted to start, but, feeling obligated because this was her idea, Bonnie did.

"As cliche as it sounds, I really had a good time tonight." After a short pause, she added, "I'd like to do it again sometime."

Marceline’s brows shot up into her hairline. "Wait does this mean -"

“Ehp!” She croaked. Despite knowing what Marceline's reaction would be, Bonnie still found a lump rising in her throat. She took a breath and tried again.

“Yeah.” Bonnie smiled tentatively.

Marceline’s face went through various stages of metamorphosis, from confusion to disbelief to being completely flustered red. It finally settled on a dumbfounded smile with rose-tinted cheeks.

“That’s, wow.”

Bonnie giggled and crossed her arms. She just couldn’t resist the opportunity presented. “Really? You got your crush to like you back and all you can say is ‘wow’. Real smooth Marceline.”

“Sh-shut up!”

Bonnie could practically hear the pout from her. She snickered and Marceline desperately scrambled for a change in topic. She found one and smirked.

"Does this mean I can kiss you? Coz you were so obvious with the staring just now"

Bonnie scoffed. “We both know I wasn’t staring, nice try though. As for the other thing,” She averted her gaze and gave a non-committal shrug. “Maybe on the second date, or the third”

Marceline grinned. “Ooooh, there’s gonna be a third date now?”

“Only if you behave.” She deadpanned.

Marceline cackled, her voice echoing throughout the silent neighborhood. Soon enough, Bonnie couldn’t help but join and now in between the quiet of suburbia were the giggles of two girls.

They kissed on the second date.

#bubbline #bubbline fanfiction #bubbline fanfic #adventure time #adventure time fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #princess bubblegum #marceline #marceline the vampire queen #atimers #at #at fanfic #at fanfiction

[writingblackpink]

Coincidence (pt. 2)

Read part 1 HERE

genre: fluff

word count: 2.8k

pairing: rosé x reader

Wherein your friend drags you out to dinner and you meet a familiar face….but is that all she is?

A/N: surprise!! Here it is! Kind of fluffy! Let me know what you think :)

-

“Wait, wait, wait, let me get this straight,” Joy squinted at you, pacing in front of the couch you sat on, “The girl you took home from the bar was Rosie? The same Rosie we just had dinner with? The same Rosie that had you up against the wall of the women’s restroom, but you can’t remember if you fucked or not?” 

Your head instantaneously hit your palms. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to your roommate’s crudeness. “Shhhhhh….you don’t have to say it like that.”

Joy let you have the peacefully silent car ride home to think about how you would present the story to her, and as soon as you crossed the threshold into the apartment, she began berating you with questions on how you and Rosie knew each other. So now, you sit on the couch as she paces the room, deep in both thought and confusion as you both try to piece together what happened that night. 

At her silence, you continued. 

“Listen, I have a feeling nothing like that happened. If I was so wasted that I can’t remember what happened, there’s also a big chance that I wasn’t able to do much else.” You sounded more so as if you were talking to yourself, trying to convince yourself of what happened during the night in question, and not to your roommate who was also trying to help. 

She stopped pacing to respond. 

“Ok, but what about this incriminating evidence? I swear I was minding my own business but when I got home that night, you two were definitely in the middle of some intense….” she paused, looking for the right word, “necking…” she paused again, sour expression gracing her features, realizing that wasn’t the best choice of words, “on the couch.” She finished in a more accusatory tone.

You made a sound in frustration, throwing your head back in your hands, trying to wrack your brain for any fleeting memory. 

“I don’t know, just, can we stop talking about it for tonight?”

Joy shrugged and took a few steps to exit the room. 

“Y/N, maybe you should just ask her what happened.” She responded. 

“Better yet, maybe you should just ask her out on a date already!” She exclaimed over her shoulder as she continued walking down the hallway. You let out a sigh when you heard the door to her room closed, hoping you were off the hook at least for tonight. 

You opened your phone, staring at the lips as Rosie’s contact and as if you were on autopilot, you opened a new text message. You glared at the blank screen until you lost track of time, thinking through what you could possibly say, but you couldn’t think of anything clever at that moment so you exited the message and clicked your phone off as you got up and walked to your room, retiring for the night.  

--

Each day the following week, you found yourself in some weird sort of cycle. You would spend all day thinking about Rosie, what happened that night, how you would ask her out, and when you returned home you would open her contact in your phone, staring at the blank message screen until you chickened out and closed the app. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, Rosie kind of intimidated you, and you wanted to make sure you reached out in the best way if you wanted her to agree to go on a date with you. You don’t think you’ve ever been this nervous to impress someone.

By Friday, you were starting to get frustrated with yourself at this go around. When you got home and opened your messages this time, you finally typed something out, opting for something simple and straightforward, before hovering over the send button. 

Taking a few deep breaths, you pressed send, watching the message pop up in the chat. 

Hi Rosie! It’s Y/N from the bar...and dinner last week. I know this is kind of last minute and you’re probably busy but there’s this carnival happening this weekend and I was wondering if you’d want to go with me? 

You stared at the screen for what felt like hours before you saw that Rosie was typing. 

Are you asking me out on a date, Y/N?

She replied, and you could almost picture her smug smirk through the phone. That was something you already knew you admired about her - her unwavering confidence she had in herself. You wished you had as much in yourself.

Yeah, I guess I am 🥴

Your response was simple, but you saw her typing back almost immediately. 

Cute ☺️

Was the first message, and you thought that was all she was going to send until you saw the chat bubbles pop up again. 

I’m actually free tomorrow, Y/N. And if I wasn’t, I would have cancelled my other plans for you. I’ve been waiting for you to reach out. 

You blushed at the thought that Rosie was thinking of you too, and you wondered if she was feeling the same way. 

--

Clothes were strewn across the room as you tried to pick something to wear on your first date. Joy heard your grumbling and rounded the corner into your room, eyes widening at the mess you were making. 

“Why are you so freaked out?” She questioned, “From what I saw on both occasions, you could be wearing a plastic bag and Rosie would still look at you like...” She paused, failing to find a way to describe Rosie’s longing glances, “...well, you know.” and she left it at that, hoping you could make a conclusion based on that. You did.  

You continued rifling through your things as she spoke, realizing that if you didn’t hurry and get dressed, you’d be late. 

“I don’t know Joy. I don’t really know what’s going on with me, but Rosie just makes me so nervous. It’s like…” you stopped and looked up to the ceiling, deep in thought, “I want to be around her like all the time. Which is weird because we’ve only sort of met twice but I don’t know,” you continued, bringing your eyes down to meet Joy’s, “she makes me feel so much.”

Joy laughed at that, walking over and placing a hand on your shoulder, “wow, you really got it bad, Y/N.” As she exited the room, she offered a “good luck” and continued on her way. 

--

You settled on an oversized sweater and some jeans, something basic but also something you knew would keep you warm in the crisp fall air. Glancing at your watch, you let out a breath of relief to see that you were leaving right on time, which was kind of a first for you. 

The car ride was actually pleasant. You and Rosie made easy conversation over anything and everything, including music tastes, favorite colors and which rides and attractions you were excited to get to experience with each other. 

As you made your way into the carnival, you both agreed that you would hit the food trucks before anything else. Soon, you were settled at a bench, staring at the wild array of fried foods you had collected from nearly every booth. 

Neither of you said anything about the excessive amount of food in front of you, and you both sat, eating contentedly, conversation flowing freely. But the question still sat at the back of your mind, and you figured that there wasn’t a better time to ask than the present. 

“Rosie? Can I ask you a question” you asked, waiting for her to meet your eyes. She made an affirmative sound and sat up a bit straighter, letting you know you had her attention. 

Suddenly, a wave of nervousness washed over you and you didn’t really know why. You put your hands in your lap and moved your gaze to them as you spoke. 

“Um...so...this might be a little awkward...and embarrassing on my part,” you forced out, lifting your eyes to meet her curious ones once again. Her eyebrows were furrowed together in confusion, waiting for you to finish your question. 

“But the night we met...what exactly happened?” 

And you were surprised to hear a chuckle escape her lips. Her beautiful, beautiful lips. You realized you were staring as she started talking, so you drifted your eyes back upwards hoping she didn’t notice. The way she continued made you think that maybe she didn’t. 

“Well,” She paused, leaning forward and gave a lopsided smirk as she continued, “do you want the truth or do you want me to spare you?”

Cringing inwardly, you just wanted to get this over with and move on. Clearly she has, you thought. 

“Oh, god. Please just tell me what happened so we can move on from this. I don’t remember anything after we got back to my place.” 

She chuckled again, and you thought you might never get tired of seeing her smile or hearing her laugh. 

“Not much happened actually.” She stated nonchalantly. “We made out on your couch for a little bit and then…” She trailed off like she was trying to decide on whether to continue or not. 

“And then?” You asked, the suspense really killing you. 

“Well, you kind of…” she paused, clearly trying to figure out how to tell you what happened next.

“You passed out against my face. So I figured I would just help you get to bed and head out, so I sat you on your bed and went to rummage through your kitchen for some hangover meds and water, but when I got back you seem to have..” she paused again before continuing. “You seemed to have thrown up a little on yourself. And I couldn’t leave you like that so I found a towel and a t-shirt and got you changed and cleaned up before I found a post-it note and a pen to leave you a vague note and then I hit the road.” She got it out in a rush, almost like she would have rather spared you instead of telling you what had happened, knowing you would be embarrassed. 

Your face was hiding behind your hands before she was even finished telling the story. Honestly, you were more impressed at her resourcefulness in a place she’d never been before more than you were embarrassed, but you were also still embarrassed and you couldn’t completely let that feeling go. 

With red cheeks, you uncovered your face, seeing Rosie look almost as pained as you. 

Clearing your throat, you finally spoke in the smallest voice you could muster. 

“Thank you, Rosie, for uh, doing that for me.” You coughed again, hoping that would clear out the silence. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I tried coming on to you at dinner so that you wouldn’t think anything like that happened, but then you never called and I thought I ruined everything by coming on too strong. It’s ok though, I promise none of that changed the way I was feeling about you.”

“Really?” You piped up in surprise, thinking that incident should’ve been it for her, but then again she wouldn’t be here with you now if she did. 

“Yeah, really. I think I’ve been wanting to spend more time with you since then, actually.” She responded shyly, less confident than you were used to.

And it felt like a giant weight had been lifted off of your shoulders because damn, Rosie felt the same way you did. 

You cleared your throat again, trying to sound cool when you said, “Cool. Great.” and left the conversation at that. 

You could tell there was a tension that settled between the two of you after that. The Rosie you once knew as confident now seemed nervous, and all you wanted to do was get rid of the tension. 

Heading to the ferris wheel, you couldn’t help but notice the way Rosie tried to look everywhere but at you as you spoke, and the way she fiddled with her own hands as you waited in line for the attraction. When you got on the ride, her hands remained nervously in her lap, and she kept her gaze away from you as the ride made its ascent. As you made your way to the top, you watched as fireworks exploded in the sky, and as cliché as it sounded, you figured you should probably make a move. You hoped it would help drop the tension.

You reached over and grabbed her hand out of her lap, placing your hands in between the both of you and smiling when she turned to first look at your joined hands and then up to meet your gaze. She smiled back as you gave a gentle squeeze and you both looked back at the fireworks, almost feeling like you could reach out of the car and touch each light dancing in the sky. 

After playing some carnival games, which included Rosie winning you a small plushie (a turtle you both named ‘Bob’), she led you to a ride that looked fast and furious. You had Bob in one hand and her hand in the other, and you couldn’t help but bask in the twinkle in her eye when she looked over her shoulder and smiled, giving your hand another squeeze and pulling you along. Yeah, you definitely weren’t ever going to get tired of seeing that, and you were also glad that any nervousness Rosie was feeling after telling you how she felt was long gone. 

Stepping on the ride, you began tapping your feet on the ground and fidgeting in your seat. Of course, Rosie noticed. She was more intuitive than you originally had given her credit for, but also anyone within a ten-mile radius could notice you tapping your feet as the sound echoed through every inch of the metal.

“Hey, are you okay?” and the genuine concern in her eyes and the gentle squeeze she gave your hand, was reassuring enough to help you release any tension in your muscles. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You smiled back and took a few deep breaths just as the ride began moving. 

Getting off the ride, adrenaline was coursing through your veins. You ran off before Rosie, skipping a few steps before turning and waiting for her to catch up to you. She was chuckling again as she made her way over, and she began saying something, but you were so caught up in the way that her long hair, mussed up from the ride, was flowing down her shoulders and the way her eyes glistened a little from the wind blowing in her direction and her cheeks glowing with a soft flush from the adrenaline as well. 

You blamed it on the adrenaline when you surged forward and kissed her when she made her way to you. To your surprise, she kissed back, and you stood there, in the middle of the carnival, silently kissing each other as sounds from the rides and the games rang out in the background. 

You pulled back first and looked directly into her eyes. You were pleased to find her smiling back at you and without saying anything you began pulling her to follow behind you. 

A little while and a shared cotton candy later, you were back in your car bringing Rosie home. When you arrived at her apartment, you both sat for a minute, not sure what the next move was. 

“Thanks for taking care of me that first night -”

“Thank you for tonight.”

You both let out at the same time, and you both laughed. 

“You go first,” Rosie said. 

“I was just going to say, thank you for taking care of me that first night. I really appreciate you. I’m sorry you had to deal with me being a mess. You didn’t even know me. So thanks.” And you left it there.

“Y/N, it’s no problem, really. I think you would’ve done the same for me.” She paused, letting a beat of silence go by before continuing, “and thank you for tonight. I hope we can do this again very soon.” 

With that, the confident Rosie you remembered was back, and she was leaning over the console to place a gentle kiss on your cheek and pulled back. The touch was fleeting, but you knew you would feel the outline of her lips against your skin well into the night. 

She smiled as she opened the door, turning to wave when you gave a ‘good night!” in her direction. You watched to make sure she got in safely before pulling out of the parking spot to head home. Your cheek felt like it was on fire, and you brought your fingers up to touch the place her lips had been just moments earlier. You chuckled. It was no coincidence there was going to be a second date.

#the end #blackpink imagines #blackpink #blackpink rosé #blackpink scenarios #rosé park #roséblackpink #gg scenarios #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #rosé x female reader