#work hard and let the silence be your queue

[wholoveseggs]

hiiii can you maybe do an smut and fluff elijah mikaelson where the reader has daddy issues and oral fixation? 🥺🥺🥺

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18+ ---- {Masterlist}

How can you possibly pay attention in history class when your professor is that hot? Let's hope you don't fail your exam...

~Thanks for the request anon(s) ♡♡ I hope you don't mind me combining the two ideas!~ ~I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS ONE~

~I've gotten sooo many requests in the queue - I love them all, but it will take me some time to catch up ♡♡ thanks for your patience~

7k words - Warnings: smut, blow jobs, oral sex, daddy!kink, Elijah being bossy, tenth century history...

{Part Two}

You looked up at Mr. Mikaelson, with wide, doe eyes, as you knelt before him. His hand gently caressed your face, his thumb grazing across your plump bottom lip. You let out a soft moan, the heat between your legs becoming unbearable, begging to be touched.

Your eyes followed his every movement as he unzipped his trousers, pulling his hard cock from his boxers. His hand moved to the back of your head, his fingers running through your hair as his eyes met yours, giving you a firm nod, allowing you to take the first taste of him.

Slowly, you took him into your mouth, letting out a sigh at the perfect weight of his cock on your tongue. His fingers tightened around your locks as he gave you a sharp tug, pulling you towards him, causing his length to hit the back of your throat. You closed your eyes as you focused on pleasuring him, sucking and licking at his shaft.

"Good girl, so good for me" He growled, his hips slowly thrusting into your mouth, "Such a pretty little thing on her knees for me".

You moaned in response, the praise he gave you spurring you on, making you move faster, wanting to please him more, wanting him to feel good.

You felt yourself growing wetter as he took control of the movements of your head, his grip on you becoming harsher. You opened your eyes once more, looking up at him as his hips stuttered, and his eyes fluttered shut.

"I'm going to cum," he growled, as his thrusts became sloppy.

"Cum for me daddy," you moaned, then a flicker of confusion crossed your face as the sound of an alarm echoed in your ears.

Your eyes opened, and you shot up out of bed. You rolled over and grabbed your phone, "Fuck!" you screamed, it was 8:30 am.

"Shit shit shit shit" you repeated as you quickly threw on some clothes and grabbed your things.

You raced out the door and began to run to campus, knowing full well that you wouldn't make it on time.

When you arrived at the exam room, you were already 30 minutes late. You wanted to cry, knowing that Mr. Mikaelson would not let you take it. You slowly entered the room, hoping that he would show you mercy, but to no avail.

He sat there, looking just as handsome as he did in your dreams, grading papers as the rest of the class worked in hushed silence.

"Miss Y/L/N," He said, not looking up from his papers, "see me after class".

Your heart sunk as you shuffled towards your seat, dropping your bag next to your desk. You looked up to find the eyes of your classmates looking at you.

"Eyes on your own exams," Mr. Mikaelson warned the class, his tone icy.

The rest of the hour seemed to drag on, with nothing to do, your mind wandered back to your dream, a familiar heat settling between your legs. You had a crush on him since the first day, but lately everything seemed to be escalating. You could barely pay attention in his class, so distracted by your fantasy of having him in your mouth.

When the bell finally rang, you sat frozen in your seat. The rest of the students slowly shuffled out of the room, casting sympathetic glances in your direction as they did.

When the room was empty, Mr. Mikaelson stepped in front of your desk, eyes darkened, waiting for you to look up at him.

"My office. 4:00 pm. You will take the exam. No excuses." He stated matter-of-factly.

Your stomach twisted, and your breath hitched, as you looked up at him through your lashes. He looked stunning. His hands clasped behind his back as he towered above you. He was always dressed with a suit and tie. His hair was slightly messy, probably from running his fingers through his hair and a pair of reading glasses sat low on his nose.

"If you are late, you will not have the opportunity to retake it. Do I make myself clear Miss. Y/L/N?" He looked over your appearance, as you sat there helplessly, his eyes lingering on your lips.

"Yes, sir" you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Good." He turned on his heels, walking back to his desk to collect his things, and preparing to leave. "Now be a good girl and go to your next class."

That was it? That's all he wanted to say? Wait, good girl, you thought. You bit your lip, he definitely said 'good girl'. The sudden image of your mouth wrapped around his cock flashed across your mind, and you could feel yourself getting wetter.

Your cheeks flushed red, and you quickly left the room, embarrassed by your own thoughts.

The rest of the day went by in a blur. You barely paid attention in any of your classes, too distracted by the idea of being alone with Mr. Mikaelson. By the time the last bell had rung, you made your way to his office. Your hands were shaking, and your heart was racing in anticipation.

"Mr. Mikaelson?" You asked as you knocked gently on the door, peaking your head inside. "Can I come in?"

"Yes, Miss Y/L/N. Right on time. Good." He smiled, a small, pleasant smile. But it only made you more nervous.

You slipped into the room, slowly closing the door behind you, watching him as he slid the exam across the table, toward you.

"You may begin".

You looked down at the paper before you, it was on the tenth century, a time period you were well versed in. You glanced up at Mr. Mikaelson and shot him a little smirk, pleased that you knew your stuff.

When you finished you slid your paper over to him, with a graceful flick of his wrist he put on his glasses as he looked it over, eyebrow raised, impressed with the way you had answered.

"Do you drink? Wine, bourbon?" He asked as he stood from his desk and walked over to the small bar he had in his office.

"I'll have whatever you are having" you replied, the feeling of your stomach tightening and knotting as he closed the space between you.

"Wine, then," he said, pouring two glasses and handing one to you. "Salute" he clinked his glass with yours as you brought it to your lips.

He moved to the front side of his desk, leaning against it and looking down at you. His face was stoic, but there was something in his eyes, a fire that hadn't been there earlier.

"So," he said, bringing his glass to his lips, "you are a bit of an anomaly to me, Miss Y/L/N" he said as his eyes trailed over you, drinking you in, a familiar flush began tinting your cheeks.

You laughed, a tiny giggle, and smiled, "How so?"

He shook his head and laughed softly. "Well, you test incredibly well, yet you never seem to be paying attention in my class."

Your smile faded, your face burned with embarrassment. You couldn't possibly admit to why you were so distracted.

"Did I say something to upset you?" he asked as he set down his glass of wine, turning his body to face you.

"No, of course not" you stammered, not meeting his eyes.

What could you say? 'You're just really attractive and I can't concentrate in class because I'm too busy thinking about your dick in my mouth'?

"If you don't tell me what's wrong, I can't help you" he replied in a soft tone.

You didn't know if it was the wine, or the strange almost subconscious influence of the dream you had that morning, but you felt brave. You lifted your head and looked him dead in the eye, trying to sound confident.

"I've been having these dreams, constantly lately..." you said, "and they have been interfering with my attention" you paused, studying his face for any reaction, and you continued, a whisper, barely audible "They have all involved you"

The look on his face was enough to send shockwaves through your core. His eyebrows shot up and he moved a little closer, now right in front of you, towering over you, making you feel small. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his arms, the button-up shirt pulled tight, his muscles flexing. This had to be a dream.

"What are they about? If I might ask" he spoke, drawing your attention back up to his face, your cheeks blazing as you gaped at him like a fish out of water.

You blinked rapidly as the realization that this was, in fact, happening, struck you. What could you say? The truth? Surely, he wouldn't take kindly to your mind producing nightly fantasies that starred him? Would he laugh at you? Tell you to get the hell out of his office and go home, never to return? Would he ever be able to look at you again without thinking of you as the pathetic, horny college kid that had a pathetic, horny crush on him? Probably not. But also, you knew that look in his eye, it was the kind all men had when they wanted to fuck you.

Your mind did some quick calculations on how badly this could go, but it seemed like your pussy was in control right now because it was the voice speaking, and it said, "Can I show you? Sir?" as your eyes trailed downward to his crotch.

There, right before you, was the evidence that maybe, just maybe, you weren't the only one in here all hot and bothered by the other. You looked up at him, feeling a little bit smug, as you saw his eyes follow your line of sight before flashing back up to yours.

You didn't wait for his response, instead you moved off the chair and on to your knees, your hands slowly skimming up his thighs, stopping just short of the proof you were sure you'd find in a moment.

"Can I?" you asked, in the most innocent voice you could, which wasn't all that convincing. You were in over your head, and you knew it, a hint of confusion shadowing his face at your words.

"I should be the one asking permission, miss" he responded before he placed his hand on your head, brushing your hair from your face in a gentle caress.

You couldn't believe this was really happening, and you sublty pinched your thigh, hard, and while it did sting a bit, you didn't wake up.

Your eyes met his once more, your hand darting forward and over the crotch of his pants, and yes, just as you hoped, he was rock solid.

Before you had much time to revel in your delight though he gently grabbed your wrist and paused your movements before you could get carried away with yourself.

"We can't do this" his words didn't convince you as you looked up at his face and saw the same emotions he'd displayed since the beginning flash across it.

He wanted this just as much as you did, why was he stopping you?

Feeling bold, you stood, taking his hand and leading him to the plush armchair in the corner of the room, you pushed him lightly, but playfully, causing him to gently fall into the seat

For a split second you enjoyed the image before you, Mr. Mikaelson looked slightly dazed with his glasses askew, as he gazed up at you in the chair.

Then you slowly kneeled between his legs, resting your hands on his thighs. Looking up at him from where you were, you could appreciate his physique, his broad shoulders and strong arms. Even in his suit, you could see the muscle definition in his chest and abdomen, the hard planes visible underneath. He leaned forward and stroked your hair, tucking it behind your ear. You met his gaze and he looked deep into your eyes, his thumb brushing over your lips, bringing them to part slightly.

"Mr. Mikaelson.. Sir" you could hear the neediness in your voice as you melted under his touch. "You don't know how badly I’ve wanted this"

He looked quite flushed, probably just as eager as you were. His brown eyes were almost black. You couldn't think, only focused on the throbbing sensation that was pooling low in your belly.

You grasped the button on his trousers and deftly popped it open. You carefully unzipped him, your stomach fluttering in excitement. You glanced up again and watched his face as you pulled his pants down his thighs. He breathed deeply, eyes closed, looking tense but ready to receive pleasure.

The black boxers he was wearing strained over his erect cock. The shape bulged as you nuzzled against him. You placed small kisses along his shaft, teasing him through the thin material. You lifted his shirt to give yourself a better view, then began tugging his boxers down.

His dick sprung out from under the fabric, and you caught your breath in surprise. It was large, not overly large, just bigger than what you expected. You stroked him gently, becoming accustomed to his size. Your hands followed his length from base to tip, your grip tightening, causing him to groan.

You gave the head soft kitten licks, looking up at him to gauge his reactions. His fingers in your hair slowly pushed your face closer, signaling for you to take more of him into your mouth. You opened your mouth and welcomed the weight of his cock on your tongue.

He tasted so delicious. It was the perfect mix of sweat, musk and pure man. You wanted to make him feel good, to make him lose control. To feel him holding onto you as he tried to contain himself. You bobbed your head and took more of his length with every pass. His breathing became labored and you looked up to see his eyes on you, watching as you sucked him. He looked intensely focused, biting his lower lip.

You slowly pulled off of him, sucking on the tip before letting go with a lewd pop. His cock was slick with your spit, glistening in the lamplight. You licked his length, kissing and sucking along the sides.

"Do you like that daddy?" The words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them.

"What did you just call me?" he breathed, moving your head back so you were face to face again.

Your face flushed in embarrassment, as you avoided his eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I was caught up in the moment... I.." Your eyes flickered up to his, and you could see that a smirk had begun to spread on his face.

Your thoughts were racing, had you really just called your professor 'Daddy'? And, more importantly, he liked it?

"Sir..." you breathed as he leaned back in his chair, a confident look settling on his face as he rubbed his scruff.

"Interesting" he said as he looked at you, licking his lips as he studied your face, which was now resembling a ripe tomato.

This was it, he would never be able to look at you with out laughing at the way you had acted. Shame burned hot on your cheeks and you hung your head in embarrassment.

"Look at me," he said softly, when you didn't he placed his finger under your chin, pulling your face towards him.

His eyes searched yours for a moment before he whispered a barely audible "do it again"

"Daddy" you repeated, watching as his cock twitch as you said it.

"Good girl" he praised, lightly pressing on your shoulders.

His hand returned to your hair, drawing you toward him, leading you back down his length. You ran the tip of your tongue around the head of his cock before teasing the slit, gathering precum on your tongue and swallowing it down eagerly.

His hips bucked forward involuntarily and he let out a throaty moan. You smiled and took him back into your mouth, swallowing his cock to the base. You held him there for a moment before bobbing your head rapidly.

"Just like that," he moaned.

You could tell he was close from the way his breathing changed and gripped your hair tighter. "So fucking good," he said roughly, tugging on the strands and angling you where he liked best.

He stilled your movements suddenly, making it so you couldn't do anything but sit still with his dick in your mouth. His cock rested on your tongue, the sensitive head leaking precum. You bobbed your head and continued to suck him, lapping up all of his fluid. His breathing grew ragged as his release approached.

He tugged on your hair, pulling your head off of him so only the tip remained inside your mouth. His eyes were closed, and you took the opportunity to kiss the head of his cock, toying with it between your lips.

"Will you cum in my mouth daddy?"

A loud groan left his throat, his breath coming in huffs. "Jesus, yes."

He held you in place and began thrusting shallowly into your throat, all while you stared up at him from where you knelt. You couldn't break his gaze.

He watched your throat contract as you swallowed him down. He seemed to appreciate the amount of saliva that leaked from the corners of your mouth, tracing a glistening path down to his balls.

You hollowed your cheeks and gave a long, drawn-out suck.

"Oh my sweet girl, do that again." His breathing was labored, his tone deep and raspy. His body jerked slightly, thrusting deeper, struggling to hold back. He cupped your face and brushed his thumb against your cheek, wiping away a tear that escaped.

You did as he asked, looking up at him with wide innocent eyes. He kept his gaze on yours. You opened your mouth wider, relaxing your throat, and let out a soft hum. It sent the most delicious sensation through his dick, sending him over the edge.

You swallowed down everything he gave you, never once breaking eye contact. Your mouth was warm and wet, and you gave little swallows to pull more from him.

He shuddered and you couldn't help but moan around him at how wrecked he looked. His hair was messed up and there was a wild look in his eyes. He was gazing down at you with a possessive, determined expression, like he was seeing you for the very first time.

He slowly withdrew his cock, watching it slide past your swollen lips. You gently hummed and gave the tip a few soft kisses before leaning back.

You could see the satisfied smirk on his face. He released your hair and pushed his cock back inside his boxers. He tucked his shirt back in and straightened up, then tugged you by the arm to help you off the ground.

He was quiet as he looked down at your completely ravished appearance. Your eyes looked heavy and hooded, and your lips were red and puffy from being stretched open. There was a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin and he could see how turned on you were.

He beckoned you to sit on his lap, which you gladly did, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands found their way around your waist, pulling you closer. He kissed your lips tenderly, then trailed his lips along the column of your throat.

You sighed, melting against him, he felt so nice and warm. His stubble tickled your skin, bringing you out of your haze. The closeness of him, the way he held you, was surprisingly intimate. You hadn't expected to be so affected by something so simple.

"That was unexpected," he said softly, as his hands moved slowly along the lines of your sides, the action wasn't provocative, rather it was in the comforting, sensual kind of way. It allowed him to explore your body, to familiarize himself.

As the lust faded, you felt a deep sense of uncertainty about what would happen. You also had no idea where this might lead, or how quickly. It wasn't smart to get involved with your teacher, and it definitely wasn't smart to have his cum in your mouth.You usually knew better than to put yourself in situations like this with people you didn't know. You knew nothing about the man, save for what you learned in his class. But the logical part of your brain seemed to have checked out for the night.

You moved off of him, causing him to loosen his grip on you, his eyes following your movements.

"Thank you for letting me take my exam late, I really appreciate it," you said awkwardly, leaning in to peck him on the cheek.

He gave you a puzzled look and nodded, reaching out to take your hand before you got too far.

"Are you alright?" he asked, gently squeezing your hand, concern etched in his features.

"Yeah, I.. have some assignments due and some studying to do. I should go, I've taken up too much of your time already," you brushed his hand off and swiftly headed out the door before he could respond.

From the moment you woke up the next day, you were dreading going to your history class. Not only had you embarrassingly called one of the hottest men you'd ever met, 'daddy', but then you had given him head and actually liked it.

You'd never acted like that before, it was completely out of character and despite his positive reaction, it did nothing to ease your anxiety around him.

He was such an enigma and it didn't make any sense to you. He looked and acted for all the world like the perfect gentlemen, but there had been an edge to him, when he'd looked down at you while you'd...well, done what you had. Like he was just holding himself back, and you wanted to see what would happen when he finally let go.

Even though it was such a bad idea.

Maybe you should just skip today, maybe the rest of the year, you knew that you would probably spend the entire class thinking about how you sucked his cock. You let out a long sigh, and headed to class anyway, you didn't want to skip your lecture, even though your mind was a muddled mess.

Class began the usual way, and you went about taking notes while he lectured, ignoring the way your face burned when you glanced up and saw him looking at you. At some point he began talking about the vikings and you mind began to wander. Daydreaming about the way his cock had throbbed in your mouth as he came.

You were lost in a daze of desire, subconsciously sucking on the end of your pen, you were unaware of the heated look he was giving you. How he was transfixed by the sight of the pen disappearing between your lips, followed by a flick of your tongue as you glanced up, looking directly at him as you gave it an obscene suck. His eyes narrowed at the sight, you weren't the only one who was distracted.

His lecturing halted momentarily and everyone noticed he looked more flustered than usual. The classroom was quiet, as they all watched in confusion. His eyes met yours and he quickly cleared his throat, shaking his head as if he was coming back to reality.

"Miss Y/L/N, please see me after class" he directed at you before abruptly continuing to lecture.

You looked away, feeling tense, maybe skipping class hadn't been such a bad idea.

You stood there, watching the room empty, and waiting for the last of your classmates to leave. When the room was empty, you approached his desk, where he was gathering his belongings, preparing to leave.

"Is everything ok, professor?" You asked, as he finished putting his books away and turned to face you.

"That's not the term I was hoping to hear, especially considering our encounter yesterday," he said, a smirk spreading on his face.

"Sorry, I..I mean Mr. Mikaelson," you replied, looking down, not wanting to meet his eyes.

"It's Elijah, and I believe that you were referring to me as something else" he teased, his dark eyes searching yours, the corner of his mouth lifted into a sly grin.

Your face flushed, as you remembered how you'd called him 'daddy', and how much he had liked it.

"So, why did you want to see me?" You asked, hoping that you could steer the conversation away from the previous day's events.

"How do you feel about Italian? Tonight, seven o'clock, my place?" He gave you a handsome smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"Tonight?" you echoed.

"At seven," he repeated.

"You want me to have dinner at your place?" you clarified.

"Yes," he nodded.

"With you?" you asked.

"Unless you are busy," he teased.

"No, no I'm not. I'd love to. I mean..." You didn't want to accept the date too quickly, like you were over eager to spend time with him.

"Good, it's settled then."

When Elijah arrived to pick you up, you were surprised that he actually came to your door. The typical nervous excitement bubbled in your belly as you opened it for him. He looked so good, wearing a black button-down shirt without his usual blazer. He had no tie tonight and his top buttons were undone.

He seemed to enjoy your outfit choice. Your dress was long enough that it had an innocent feel, but the deep V at the front could not be ignored. It was bold and eye-catching. He took your hand and brushed his lips across your knuckles.

"Shall we?" His brown eyes twinkled.

It was a short drive to his place. He led you through the building and into the elevator, then used a key to access the penthouse. The doors slid open into a massive room, the entire wall facing the city was a huge window, offering a spectacular view.

The floors were a light oak, and the walls a crisp white. Modern art was hung on the walls, and a large, leather couch was situated in the middle of the room. A fire was crackling in the fireplace, and a coffee table was filled with candles, making it cozy. And of course, books. There were books everywhere, on every surface and neatly lined up on the floor.

You walked to the window, amazed by the view. You could see the whole city and the mountains beyond.

"Do you live here alone?"

"I have a brother who stays here sometimes," he replied.

"This place is incredible. The view is stunning."

"I'm glad you like it," he smiled, moving towards the kitchen.

You sat on his kitchen counter, drinking wine as you watched him cook, chatting casually. He was so interesting and passionate, and you enjoyed the stories he told. You found yourself becoming more comfortable around him. The longer you spent in his presence, the better you felt. You were hooked.

"Can I ask you something?," you started, after swirling the wine around your glass, then taking a drink.

"Of course." Elijah looked over at you.

"How are you still single? You're incredibly hot, smart and charming," You blushed, hoping you weren't sounding desperate. He laughed, turning his attention back to the food.

"I don't really have time for dating. I spend all my free time on my research,"

"And sex," You added, a teasing smirk appearing on your lips.

"Is that what you think? That I'm one of those professors?" He smirked, looking amused.

"Are you saying you don't have sex with students?" You asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Not yet," he replied.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you shifted slightly on the counter. His words had the desired effect on you. He chuckled and began plating the food.

"Let's eat while our food is still hot."

Dinner with Elijah was surprisingly pleasant, the conversation was entertaining and he asked you lots of questions about your personal interests, family and passions. You were falling hard for the man, he was just so easy to get along with. By the time he had cleaned everything up and washed the dishes, you were well over your initial awkwardness and laughing more freely.

You walked around his place, admiring the art on the walls. There were beautiful paintings, some that were probably very old and expensive. You noticed a piano in the corner of the living room, and wondered if he played.

The fire was still going and it made the room warm and cozy. You kicked off your shoes and curled up on the sofa.

Elijah walked in with a fresh bottle of wine and two glasses.

"You have an amazing collection of paintings," you remarked, as he sat beside you.

"Thank you, I've collected them for years," he said, handing you a glass.

You smiled as you brought the glass to your lips, taking a sip. You felt his eyes on you and glanced up to meet his gaze. His expression was unreadable, and you suddenly felt self conscious.

"You passed your exam, by the way." He finally spoke.

"I'm sorry I left so quickly. I know that was weird," you looked down, avoiding his eyes.

"I wasn't sure if I had upset you," his hand was warm on your thigh, rubbing gently.

"You didn't, I was just..." You looked up at him, seeing his eyes searching yours, the question was there, and he deserved an honest answer. "I have a confession."

"Oh?" he leaned forward, placing his wine on the coffee table, giving you his full attention.

"I've wanted you since the first day of class," you admitted.

"Hmmm.." He smirked, looking you up and down. The look in his eyes was hungry. "Speaking of class, I have some extra credit work for you," he leaned over, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you onto his lap.

Your body was pressed against his, and his hand was holding you in place by your ass. Your nipples hardened as you moved against him.

"What do I have to do, professor?" Your lips parted and he met you, giving you a passionate kiss. You moaned as you twisted his shirt in your fists, responding eagerly. 

"Take this off." he tugged at your dress, signaling for you to lift your arms. You pulled away so that he could take the garment off. His brown eyes glowed as he took in your appearance.

You were wearing your favorite lingerie, dark red lace that formed to your figure perfectly. Your nipples pebbled through the material, a noticeable wet patch appeared on your panties.

"Spread your legs." Elijah's voice sent tingles along your skin, commanding yet soft. You obeyed his command, pushing your thighs open.

"Pop quiz, Miss Y/L/N." He teased, tracing his fingertips along the edge of your panties.

"Who was the ruler of the Holy Roman Empire during the tenth century?" He asked, his fingers slowly circling your clit over the fabric. You whimpered, your breath hitching.

"Otto the great." you said, and the moment the words left your lips, he hooked his finger around the thin strap of your thong and snapped it against your hip. You gasped, and the sting made your clit ache.

"Good girl, you're learning" He hummed, rubbing the sting away.

"What significant event took place in 987 AD that marked the beginning of the Capetian dynasty in France?" His finger slipped under your panties and he ran his fingertips through your wetness.

"Hugh Capet was crowned King of the Franks."

"That's my good girl, very smart," his thumb began to rub lazy circles on your clit, his eyes never leaving your face.

"Which Islamic caliphate was at its height during the tenth century and played a crucial role in preserving and advancing knowledge?" He asked, his fingers stroking along your slit, and then circling your entrance.

"The A-abbasids." You moaned as he slipped a finger inside you.

"So you have been paying attention in my class," He chuckled, slipping his finger out of you.

"Yes, Professor Mikaelson," you groaned, rocking against his hand, desperate for more friction.

"Which Chinese dynasty ruled during the tenth century and is often considered a high point in Chinese civilization, known for its advances in arts, science, and technology?" He asked, his breath ghosting across your lips.

"T-the Sung dynasty," You whispered, and he plunged two fingers deep inside you, causing you to cry out.

"Very good, such a clever girl," his mouth covered yours, swallowing your moans.

"Last question," he teased, and you groaned in frustration, trying to fuck yourself on his fingers, but he wouldn't let you move.

"In the tenth century, what Viking explorer is believed to have reached North America, making him one of the earliest known Europeans to do so?" He asked, his thumb grazing over your clit as his fingers curled inside you.

"Leif Erikson," you cried, your hips jerking.

"That's right, such a clever, clever girl," he praised, thrusting his fingers faster, his tongue exploring your mouth. You moaned into the kiss, grinding against him.

You felt a rush of arousal, your pussy clenching around his fingers.

"Do you want to cum for me?" He asked, breaking the kiss.

"Y-yes, please." You stammered.

"Such a polite, obedient girl. What was it you called me yesterday? Daddy? Do you want daddy's cock, baby?"

"Y-yes, I want your cock, daddy."

He withdrew his fingers from you, and you watched as he licked them clean, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Get on the floor."

You slipped off his lap and knelt between his legs. He reached down and unbuckled his belt, his erection straining against his pants. He pulled his cock free and stroked it a few times, looking down at you.

You opened your mouth and leaned forward, pressing his cock between your lips. You looked up at him, sucking eagerly. He let out a deep groan, his hand threading through your hair.

He guided you up and down his shaft, his hips rolling slightly. You loved the feeling of his hard cock sliding over your tongue. He began to move you faster, and you swallowed around him. He moaned, gripping your hair. You tried to take more of him into your mouth, bobbing up and down eagerly.

You could feel him getting close, his fingers digging into your scalp. You sucked harder, trying to bring him over the edge.

Before you could, he pulled you off of him, and you let out a soft cry of disappointment. “Come here," he said, pulling you into his lap.

You straddled his hips, his hands gliding over your body, finding the back clasp on your bra and unhooking it. He peeled the lace away from your body, his eyes blazing with desire as they roamed over you.

He cupped your breasts and leaned forward, capturing nipple between his lips. You moaned, your fingers pulling on his hair as he gently bit down.

You whimpered, arching your back, offering yourself to him. He lavished attention on your breasts, his mouth sucking and licking and biting until your nipples were swollen and aching.

You leaned in and kissed him, your tongues meeting in a slow dance. His hands tangled in your hair as he took control, tasting every part of your mouth, devouring your lips.

You moved your hips, desperately seeking contact. He halted you, a dark look in his eye, he had a dangerous edge about him, which somehow excited you even more.

"On my bed, now," he commanded, his voice thick with desire.

You scrambled off of his lap, and practically ran to his bedroom. He stood and followed you, his predatory gaze making your pussy throb.

He caught up to you and pulled you into him, his hands gripping your hips, pulling your ass against him. His cock was hard against you, and you ground back into him, the friction making you moan.

"Get on the bed and show me what a good girl you are."

"Yes, daddy," you breathed, climbing onto the huge bed.

You got on all fours and presented your ass to him, arching your back.

"Spread your legs," he commanded. You reached behind and pulled the strings on the thong, exposing your wet pussy to him. You could hear him growling with lust, his hands grabbing at your ass, spreading you wider.

You could feel the heat of him hovering over your pussy, his hands gripping your thighs. You let out a low moan, and then his tongue was pressing against you, tracing patterns on your already swollen clit. You gasped, your head dropping to the bed.

"Ohh, daddy, yes," You panted as he licked and lapped at you, sucking on your clit. Your fingers twisted in the comforter. His hands gripped your hips as his tongue swirled around your entrance.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he groaned, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass.

You whined, rocking your hips back, your pussy clenching around his tongue as he drove it into you. You moaned and rolled your hips, chasing the pleasure, your entire body tightening in anticipation.

"Oh, god, yes. Please, don't stop," you begged, one of his hands trailing along your spine.

The warmth grew until you felt like you were aflame, your whole body shuddering. You came with a cry, his mouth moving with you, continuing to push you through the overwhelming waves.

His hands were on your hips, holding you in place, as his lips ghosted over your ass, pressing open mouth kisses to each of your cheeks. The stubble on his face created a delicious friction against your soft flesh, making you shiver.

The wet head of his cock slid over your pussy, dragging through your slick and bumping over your clit. You whimpered, grinding back against him. He chuckled and delivered a sharp slap to your backside.

"On your back."

You turned over, your chest heaving. He bent down, grasping your thighs and pushing your knees up against your chest. He leaned over you, his lips brushing over yours, his eyes dark.

"I'm not usually this demanding in bed, but you have this effect on me," he rasped, his hands gripping your thighs as he rubbed his cock against you.

"What are you usually like?" You asked breathlessly, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down so his body was pressed against yours.

"I like to savor things. Women. Food. Wine," He explained, his voice thick with desire. "I like to take my time," his lips brushed over yours as he spoke.

"I'm not usually like this either," You admitted.

He smirked, and then captured your mouth, kissing you deeply. You moaned, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He positioned the tip of his cock at your entrance, and slowly eased inside you. You gasped, breaking the kiss. You closed your eyes, your back arching as he pushed deeper, stretching you open.

"Fuck," he breathed, his forehead resting against yours.

All you could do was moan in response, as his hips began to move, setting a slow and steady pace. Your hands moved down to his ass, pulling him closer, needing him deeper. He groaned, his lips finding yours once more.

He thrust harder, and you moaned into the kiss. You were completely consumed by him, by his scent, his taste, his touch. He felt so good, his cock filling you perfectly. His hands were planted on the bed beside your head, caging you in. Your pussy was clenching around his cock, your nails digging into his biceps.

You looked up into his eyes, and you were drawn into their dark pools of lust. He smiled, leaning in to kiss you hungrily, swallowing your moans.

"Listen to the sounds you make, sweetheart. You were made for me," He growled, the filthy wet sound of your bodies meeting filled the room as he pounded into you.

You were losing your mind, his cock stroking in and out of you perfectly, his face hovering over yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair, desperate to be closer to him. Your toes were curling and your whole body was tingling, every nerve firing.

Your hands moved to his back, fingers digging into his shoulders as he fucked you, his body pressed against yours. His breathing was ragged, his muscles tensing. You could feel the warmth building again, the pressure mounting.

"Cum for me, sweetheart." He rasped.

His mouth was hot against you, his tongue tangling with yours. Your head fell back, his name falling from your lips as your orgasm crashed over you.

He was whispering to you, filthy words, promises and praise all mixed together. The weight of his body pressed you deeper into the mattress, his cock still hitting every sensitive spot. You whimpered and gasped, burying your face in his chest.

"That's it," He encouraged, his hips rocking against yours.

He began panting and you could feel him losing control, his thrusts becoming erratic. You clenched around him and he let out a deep groan, his cock throbbing. He pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes closing as he came inside you.

He leaned in, capturing your mouth in another searing kiss. He kissed you with so much passion, you swore you saw stars. Your hearts beating in sync.

You were both breathing hard, your bodies glistening with sweat. He rolled onto his side, taking you with him. You rested your head on his chest, his arm wrapping around you, his fingers drawing lazy patterns on your back.

"Will you stay the night?" Elijah asked, his lips brushing against yours.

"Yes, please, sir" You sighed.

He chuckled, pulling you tightly against him. You laid tangled up in one another, sharing soft kisses and lingering touches.

You didn't expect to get caught up with your professor, but here you were. Wrapped in his sheets, in his arms. It was probably wrong, but you didn't care. He was completely irresistible, and you were hopelessly drawn to him.

This was definitely going to be an interesting semester.

♡ Do you guys want a part two?? cause I could definitely make this a whole series.. ♡

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #tvdu #vampire diaries #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson smut #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine

[moony-mari]

1:58 am - lando norris 

Lando norris x fem!reader Summary: 1:58 am the time he walked out of your life or 1:58 am the time he walked back into your life Warnings: hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. max is max fewtrell, italics are flashbacks a/n: put my playlist on shuffle and started writing! Hope you like it send me requests if you want an idea to be written! 

☆☆☆☆

1:58 am the exact time he walked out of your shared apartment leaving you alone, tears cascading down your face as you wondered why he went away. 

Your knees gave out as you sank to the couch, tears blurring your eyes as you opened your phone, your heart clenching as you looked at the photo of lando that lit up the dim room. Immediately you opened your email drafting  a letter of resignation to send to all the quadrant members. 

Placing your phone down, you began to walk around the apartment, memories flooding your mind 

The rain hit the windows harshly causing you and Lando to look at eachother “we're gonna get soaked” he laughed. You'd gone out for dinner and decided it was a good idea to walk to to the restaurant completely forgetting how brutal the UK weather can be 

“I guess we'll have to run home. You wanna race me lan?”

“You don't stand a chance” he smirked at you as he took your hand and led you to the door. 

He was right, you couldn't win,completely drenched hair dripping you finally caught up to him trying to catch your breath ”you could've let me win arsehole” 

“Where's the fun in that baby” he took your hand, and as if on queue music started playing from the car parked on the side “let's dance” 

You're not much for dancing but for him you did. And so you danced in the rain, laughing like a bunch of idiots. Lando pulled you in for a sweet kiss which you gladly reciprocated, until you jumped the honk of a car breaking you apart.

“Do you want to come home or are you just gonna keep standing in the rain all night?” max called 

“Oi you muppet you played the song didn't you? You should’ve shouted us before” 

“Believe it or not i actually like you two together so i gave you a cute moment don't worry i got pictures and videos so i expect a thank you”

“Thank you max” you giggled at his antics and pulled lando to the car 

You placed the frame face down not wanting to remember anymore, the hole in your heart only growing as you continued to roam through the dark halls, leading to your bedroom. Checking your phone one more time pleading for a message a call anything to tell you that he was okay and that he was coming home 

☆☆☆☆

Nov 20th was the date. 2 weeks. 14 days. Complete radio silence. Your resignation had not gone down well. Max showing up to your place pleading with you to come back saying Lando was an idiot for what he did and how you shouldn't throw 3 years of hard work at quadrant because Lando was being a dipshit. Ria and the boys spammed you with messages.you told them you’d finish all the videos scheduled this year but after that you were done. You couldn't work with him anymore. 

How could you go back? 9 years of friendship and a 4 year relationship down the drain like it meant nothing. you’ve been there since the beginning. You held him while he cried and celebrated with him after a good race. But most importantly you loved him. You thought he loved you too. 

Dread consumed you as ria dropped off your abu dhabi paddock passes reminding you that quadrant scheduled a video filming the last race of the year from the mclaren garage. You had no choice but to go. It was work after all. So you packed your bags (full of Lando's hoodies that still smell like him) , got on the plane and checked into your room on wednesday night.Declining offers to go out because you knew he'd be there and you weren't ready to face him yet. 

Saturday rolled around (too quickly) and you were getting ready to go to the paddock to watch quali. The Mclarens had been looking unbelievable this weekend, the progress they've made throughout the year clearly showing with both of the drivers being at the top in both fp1 and fp2. Your mind wandered to the possibility of Lando winning a race. Your heart clenched. A knock on your door brought you back to reality. “Are you almost ready, love quali is starting in 30 minutes? The cars waiting in the lobby ” ria spoke through the door. You grabbed what you needed and headed out. 

As predicted, Oscar finished fp3 in p1 with Lando just behind. Your heart rate was skyrocketing as you walked closer to the McLaren garage.Max knew how hard this was for you so he pulled you aside “i've known you for 9 years. I know when you're not okay. I know this is hard but this is the last time you'll be with us. Forget lando. I mean quadrant. Aarav, steve, ethan ,niran, ria, me the people you've spent the last few years with building this brand so enjoy yourself. I may be Lando's best friend but you know you'll always have me.” 

Tears pooled in your eyes as you hugged him pouring everything into it not being able to answer him verbally. You wiped your tears and continued to walk to the garage with Max next to you. 

Luckily Lando was already in the car when you got there so you settled into the familiar garage missing the feeling of watching live from the garages. Quali  went past in a blur and now all you could focus on was Lando's car going round the track setting purple sectors all around. Screams erupted as he crossed the finish line and secured pole position. Hugging all your friends and fully embracing the moment.

Lando soon made it back into the garage and Max gave you the heads up so you could go back to the hotel. You knew you'd have to face him tomorrow but maybe tomorrow you would be ready. You settled into bed and hoped you would be okay and drifted off to sleep. 

Loud knocking woke you up. Looking around for your phone you checked the time. 1:58 am. Walking up to the door thinking it was just ria you pulled on a hoodie and opened the door.You wrong. Lando stood on the opposite end of the door. Bags under his eyes and his cheeks more hollow than you remembered  he just stood there defeated. Until he finally broke the silence that consumed all the air around you

“Can I come in?” 

#idk if i like this #f1 #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 x you #lando norris fic #lando norris imagine #lando norris angst #lando norris fluff #mclaren f1

[2knightt]

5 things dallas winston hated about you.

—even when you were on his last goddamn nerve, you were still everything to him. is he still everything to you? after all he’s put you through?

-> in no way is this me changing my style nor should this be taken seriously…i’m just bored. and sad. and bored. and i miss my boyfriend. posted on queue!! i’m probably either studying, working on asks + event, or sleeping. either one.

(I.your snarky remarks.)

“did nobody ever teach you how to properly play uno of all games?”

you asked, a chuckle in your voice as you held your one card in hand. dallas glared at you from across your table, holding 12 cards. this was the 5th game you two played. he was never one to accept defeat easily.

“this game is just fuckin’ stupid. n’ you’re a dirty lil’ cheater.” he grumbled, staring down at his all red cards, eyes shifting back to the green 3 that you had placed down. dallas wanted to say more not-so-nice words, but knowing you fully, you’d say something even worse back. he hated that about you. you always said that it was apart of your charm, he always disagreed.

“why would i ever need to cheat when you can’t seem to count?” you snapped back, brows furrowed. you referenced the fact that dallas tried to pick up only 4 when he had to pick up 6, thinking he was slick.

dallas just huffed, picking up another card from the pile before mumbling a small, ‘go.’ there was a tug at the corners of your mouth, causing you to grin a little too hard as you placed down the winning card. for the 5th time in a row. dallas threw his cards down, clicking his tongue in annoyance. he leaned back into the chair, his head turned away from you as his arms hung off the chair.

“stop bein’ a baby and help me clean this up.”

“no. it’s your house.”

“and you’re the one who’s bumming around in it. clean up with me before i let you walk those streets. again.”

(II.how important your looks were to you.)

you stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, fingers running through your hair as you starred at yourself in the window of a convenience store.

“are you serious, y/n?” he asked, pockets in hand. he stopped walking when you did. he said it was so nobody hit on you. in reality, he liked it better when he had his eyes on you 24/7. he likes knowing you were safe. even for a second.

“yes, dallas. i am.” you replied with an eye roll. you grabbed your pink lip gloss, re-applying it for the 4th time today. sure, you were willing to admit it slowed you down—your focus on your looks. but were you gonna change? no! if someone doesn’t like it, who cares?

once you were done, you continued walking, leaving dallas to rush to catch up. he walked beside you after speed walking behind you for a few seconds. your lips shined under the hot tulsa sun, eyes glowing along with them. dally couldn’t help but wrap an arm around your waist.

he grew more and more aware of the men around. he held you closer, even when they paid no mind to neither you or him. he felt almost threatened for a moment.

“are you even listening?”

you chimed in, breaking his train of thought. dallas nodded, head empty. he didn’t hear a single thing you said. was he going to admit it? no. he didn’t want these other guys to know about how terrible of a boyfriend he was.

you just hummed, walking to your house in silence. any insults, compliments, comments, or cries would fall to deaf ears as of now.

(III.how you were blindly loyal.)

“i cannot believe you right now.”

“i jus’ said she was pretty. god forbid.”

he muttered as he entered your car, sitting in the passenger seat. dallas knew it’d be a terrible idea to try and make you jealous. boundaries, you’d shout. boundaries!

“i’ve told you how many times on how uncomfortable that makes me.”

“m’sorry, doll. i…i know. it was the alcohol.”

dallas lied right through his teeth. in all honesty—he’d been hoping it’d make you want to show him off. he was stupid for ever thinking you’d so something like that.

your silence scared him. you usually would’ve spat something back at him without a single thought. a sigh left your lips as you started the car, finally speaking up.

“i know.”

you muttered quietly. goddamn, maybe loyalty was gonna be the death of you. he didn’t mind much, though. at least you knew where home was. with him…right? right, y/n? he wanted to ask over and over again. dallas wanted the reassurance. he needed the support.

for what? he didn’t know. he just wanted to make sure you still felt the same way he does.

(IV.the way you fought.)

“she got you good, y/n.”

“oh, shut up, dal.”

you muttered, washing your bloodied and bruised hands under the faucet. you stood there, spacing out, letting the water run off your hands. dallas tapped you on your shoulder, snapping you out of it.

he handed you a clean shirt, a couple of bandaids in the other. you ushered him out of your bathroom, closing the door to put the clean shirt on. ‘she got you good.’ what does that even mean? was there seriously no, ‘are you okay?’ you wondered to yourself as you opened the door.

dallas sat you down on the toilet, brushing the fresh blood that slowly streamed down your cheeks with his thumb as he placed bandaids all over your face. he kissed every single one after doing so.

he wanted to make sure you still knew he likes you. that dallas winston liked you a whole lot.

“you’ll be alright, doll.” he comforted, patting your head. he thought back to your several other fights. you fought strategically and with honour. something he’d never do. but, recently, you’d been fighting just for the fun of it.

when you fought before—he felt a little angry. he didn’t like seeing you fight, but he didn’t like knowing you were good at it. knowing you were at the same level as he was at something he took pride in hurt him. dallas was frustrated at you and himself.

maybe his bad habits were rubbing off on you. a way to remember him, as dallas thought about it. he said he’d talk to you later about it. he never did.

(V.how quickly you were able to move on. faster than he ever could.)

you realized you needed better. dallas didn’t treat you like he used to. why? you didn’t know. you tried to be the best girlfriend he’d ever have, so why did he have to ruin it? was it your fault?

you kept on asking yourself questions like this when the reality of it all sunk in. that same day, you left dallas winston.

he felt his world crumble before him. this whole, self-sabotaging thing that pony warned him about was catching up to him. dallas felt hatred for you. well, at least he wanted to. he wanted to feel angry. hatred for you.

he couldn’t no matter how hard he tried. even when he watched you move onto another guy. from afar, he’d see you giggle and flirt with him. like how you used to do with him.

even when you’re with someone else, you’re still everything ti dallas. would you ever forgive him if he said sorry? would sorry even fix the way he treated you?

#2knightt #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston x reader #this whole thing is just dallas being toxic #and just like disliking how reader is catching on #bibically accurate dallas winston technically #emotionally mature reader methinks #would modern day dallas listen to alpha male podcasts #this fic is technically me shitposting #i hate this so much #but idgaf #me coded dallas winston #queue posting my love #sleeping rn #was so not proofread #ifnore any mostakes

[beanibon]

Hey Everyone

I truly apologise for the radio silence, just know that everything is slowly getting complete.

You all deserve an update, so here it is:

I'm struggling. Mentally, emotional, you name it I'm not doing well at all. It has nothing to do with writing, I adore it and still do it, unfortunately irl events have been causing me to neglect it due to just trying to stabilize my life.

To make a long story short, financially I'm suffering and it's taken a toll on the luxury care I've been able to give Toast my bearded dragon. Multiple nights of losing myself to my mind has convinced me she deserves better and should be rehomed, but I'd like to try and get my life together before thinking too harshly, as she is my ride or die. The reason I've been able to push through life's struggles as awful as they have been.

So I've made the decision to open writing commissions through Ko-Fi, it was hard to decide this and it's no pressure to do so. It's just added benefits for a few things, and also skip the queue benefits and exclusive content/early peeks at my wips.

Again, it's no pressure to join, it's just so Toast can have a stable source of income until I can stabilize a couple jobs on top of my current one to ensure she can be taken care of so nothing drastic like rehoming can happen.

thank you all for your patience, and I promise to work hard on tumblr requests. They won't be closing, but won't have as high of a priority compared to commissions or Ko-Fi requests.

#beanibon asks #trigun x reader #trigun stampede #knives millions #millions knives #trigun smut #trigun

[bas-writes]

your blind date is waiting for you...

A suitor is awaiting for @zimzalabimmmmm who as their dream date wanted to visit an interactive. I hope you will spend lovely time together!

gender neutral reader | ~900 words | modern AU

The opening of the new science museum attracted a crowd far bigger than you expected. You thought you were ready, but the sight of the queue wrapped all around the building exceeded the most graphic of your worries. Well, it was pronounced the biggest event your city prepared for this year, the museum alone was under construction for the past few years and the media widely acclaimed it as the most modern one in the country, if not straight up one of the most modern in the whole world.

The atmosphere of excitement was thick and attracted thousands, now patiently waiting in the queue and waiting for the holy throughput to grace them with entrance.

Sabo hasn't lost even an ounce of his enthusiasm, not at the sight of the wild crowds, not through the three hours that took you two to finally enter the exhibition. From the very beginning he seemed to be even more pumped about the whole trip than you-and it was your idea in the first place. You haven't pegged him as someone who's interested in natural science, with his great passion for political science and phd in law studies in works, but at this point of your promisingly blooming relationship nothing about him can truly surprise you, not anymore. Through those few months since you ran into each other in a library, he showed you so many faces that you already forgot what was the first impression you got about him.

It's hard to maneuver in a crowd like this but Sabo, with the impact of his almost 190cm, finds a way to plough through it, to wherever you point. He's holding your hand-well, rather wrapping fingers around your wrist-and playing the foreguard against the mass of people relentlessly pushing on the two of you. His smile and excited gleam in his eyes don't fade even for a second. In that matter, he's like the children frolicking around and exploring the possibilities of interactive exhibition to their fullest, no matter the inconveniences and despite their parents' exhaustion.

With your golden retriever date by your side, you're understanding the patient pain of crowd-fatigued adults.

You still have a lot of your own enthusiasm, though, so you let Sabo pull you around, from one screen to another, under the streams of LED, between the machines (and you both have to play with every single one of them), through the smoke, the music and optic illusions and holograms. He stops for a sip of water, for a sneaky photo of you as you're engrossed by yet another wonder of the museum, to brush invisible dust from your cheek and to fix your hair. Your heart gets lost in its beat whenever he nears close but doesn't quite skip it as he's already pulling you further, for more, no crumb of patience nor sense of rest left in this man.

Fate (signed with your own words) wanted it to be your first romantic date and the deeper dive you take into it, the less it has in common with anything that could count as romance. Thoughts you planned to reveal, emotions you wanted to offer together with your heart right on a silver plate, get swallowed by the ecstatic commotion and pushed tight to the back of your mind. Sabo is as playful and affectionate as always but his intentions, despite all those sweet gestures and stolen seconds, blur as well. Whatever has already been born between the two of you has been corrupted by the museum, no place nor time to salvage the tension that has built during the hours of waiting, filled with playful banter and shameless flirting.

Or so you think until the route leads you towards the last big exhibition, the biggest in the whole museum. It's spacious and dark, no light with exception of holographic models of constellations over your heads. The atmosphere enforces calm and silence, even the excited chirping of children shimmers down to a whisper. For the first time for what seems to be an eternity you can catch a full breath-and you sigh audibly, suddenly feeling the weight of hours of light and noise.

A hand still wrapped around your wrist pulls you for the last time, towards a cozy nook between a pillar and wall, where the sights and experience diverge from the standard at the middle of the room-but there's no one to bump into you two and disturb the much needed rest.

You want to lean against the wall but your back meets Sabo's chest instead. You feel the vibration of his soft chuckle, then his arms wrap around and squeeze you tight, with support and voracity. A bold move for the first proper date-but it suits him and the atmosphere, so you just let yourself soak in it. It's too comfy to think of an alternative-and you're too tired to banter for freedom anyway.

"You fit here so well," from so close, words spoken right into your ear, Sabo's voice is much softer and smoother. His warm and moist breath makes every little hair on the back of your neck stand with anticipation-and your own breath stutters under the rapid change of your heart's rhythm. "Are you okay? You're running so hot."

You can't find an answer that would satisfy you-but even if you had it, Sabo wouldn't let you speak.

In the thick, pleasantly tense silence, under the holographic stars, his hand wanders to your chin and cups your chin, his thumb affectionately brushing your lips before he catches them with a sweet but breathtaking kiss.

#sabo x reader #sabo x y/n #sabo x you #sabo imagine #op x reader #op x you #op x y/n #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #bas writes #op #sabo #blind dates #gender neutral reader

[avocado-writing]

Fluff, and a LOT of grovelling.

GN!Reader x Tangerine

Tagging: @honestlywtfisgoingon​ @white-wolf-buckaroo @felhomaly @sinfulrefugy @venusthepirate @lunarpansexual @wanderedaway​​ @georgiee-riviere @mushywutty​​ (thank u bullet-train-2022 for the gif!)

Traffic in London is always bad. A queue on any road is a given. Tangerine is mostly used to it, and prepares things to keep himself entertained in snail’s-pace journeys. Audiobooks and that.

But tonight, with you sitting in cold fury in the passenger seat, he fucking wishes he were driving anywhere else. Each moment of this is torture. The worst torture, and he’s been waterboarded before.

He risks a glance over to you. You haven’t moved. Your arms are still tightly folded across your chest, hands digging into your biceps. You’re wearing a dark blue dress shirt buttoned down just far enough to be suggestive but not immodest. The black trousers you’ve paired with it are fitted and make your arse look amazing. And you know that. 

The perfect date outfit for what was meant to be the perfect date.

“I - ” Tangerine begins, but you silence him with a single raised hand.

“I have one rule, don’t I, T? Just one rule for when we go on dates,” you state. You won’t even look over at him, instead staring fixedly out at the street. “And what is that one rule?”

Tangerine drums his fingers on the wheel. Sighs.

“Don’t kill anyone.”

“Don’t kill anyone!” you agree, now throwing your hands in the air for dramatic effect, “Not even ‘don’t fight anyone’, because I know you can’t always promise that with your job. But T, come on. Three people.”

Yeah. He can’t argue with that. 

The evening had been going so well, too. It had been your first date night for months. He’d taken you to your favourite museum earlier, then to a show. You’d practically lit up the room with how big your smile was. Then tonight you were meant to sit down and have a lovely candlelit dinner in a restaurant he’d had to wait months to get a reservation at. 

Appetisers came out fine. Things were going well. Then someone tried to stab him on his way to the loos.

‘Course he couldn’t let that stand, especially when he’d noticed the bloke was one of the leftover cartel members from his last job. The attacker had tried to leg it, Tangerine had pursued, and he’d ended up in a fight with three of them that had left them all dead in the restaurant kitchen.

He’d had a sinking feeling in his stomach as he dialled clean-up. The two of you had needed to leg it out of the building, and now… this. The silence.

Any other day he might argue with you. Say that of course he couldn’t risk the man getting away, he needed to make sure the whole situation was dealt with. But honestly, he probably could have tracked the fucker down with Lemon tomorrow. He was just being greedy.

He pulls into the driveway of your home. Without uttering a single word, you undo your seatbelt, hop out of the car, and open the front door. 

He hates this. Feels like he’s being told off by a teacher. Also feels like he deserves it.

Tangerine sighs, leans his head back against the driver’s seat headrest.

Alright. Time for a totally different sort of clean up operation.

You wake up the next morning to the smell of pancakes.

You shift in your bed, find Tangerine’s side empty. Blearily you sit yourself up and take in the scene.

Music is playing. The radio station you like to listen to, but Tangerine finds annoying because the hosts get on his tits. On the bedside table next to you is a quite frankly arrogantly large bouquet of your favourite flowers, carefully arranged in the only vase you own.

Despite yesterday you find yourself smiling. The anger you were holding onto begins to evaporate from your body. It disappears completely when Tangerine walks into the room holding a tray with breakfast on it.

“You’ve been working hard,” you say, chuckling. Tangerine lays the tray on your lap. Pancakes, tea, orange juice. Oh god, the bloody bastard can be so romantic when he wants to be.

“Wanted to apologise for fucking up yesterday.”

You reach out to hold his face in your hands. Tangerine is very rarely humble, but also knows when he’s been out of line. 

“Sorry for being a twat,” he sighs. He takes your hand in his, presses a kiss into your palm. His moustache tickles and you caress his lips with your thumb.

“I’m sure I can think of a way for you to make it up to me,” you say, and your mind is already brimming with possibilities.

#thank you firefly-graphics for the divider! #tangerine x reader #tangerine x yn #tangerine x you #bullet train fanfic #tangerine and lemon #request #tangerine bullet train

[cookstorys]

Moonlight

Character: Felix

Show : Love, Victor

Warning : Its supposed to be cute but sorry if it came out cringy 😭

—————————————————————————————————————

The moon shined above as you walked Felix back to his apartment building. You both decided to take the rather long way since you didn’t mind each other’s presence. “So you and Victor? You guys have been getting pretty close lately.” You nudged. “Yeah, we have but we don’t see each other like that. At least I don’t think?” He questions. You laughed at his utter stupidity. “Felix I’m just kidding. If Victor liked you I’m sure he would’ve kissed you on the faris wheel by now.” Felix laughed at the obvious tease. “Stop asshole, that’s my friend you’re talking about. So what if the whole thing was kinda rom-com-ish” He playfully hits your arm smiling. As if on queue, silence fell between the two of you again.

As you walk the sidewalk you notice the slight shiver Felix tried to ignore. “You cold?” You asked the fluffy-haired boy. “Yeah, I’m fine just a tad bit chilled.” He smiled shaking a little. “Felix, here. You’re gonna freeze out here love.” You commented, quickly taking off your jacket to put it on him. The jacket fitted him loosely and oversized but neither of you mind, you found him fairly adorable in bigger clothes, specifically yours. Felix was too stunned to even react, ‘love’. Words like that were commonly used by you regularly. ‘Babes, you’re embarrassing yourself.’ , ‘no love.’ Felix had gotten pretty comfortable with the words of affection but this time it felt different. This time his heart jumped out of his chest, his palms were starting to sweat, and he couldn’t control the urge to hold back his toothy smile.

“Thank you [Name].” Felix smiled, praying that the oversized fabric covered most of his blushing face. The attempt was cute but you could still see the heat starting to spread across his cheeks. However, you chose to ignore it for his sake. “So, how’s your mom?” You were questioning if you should ask or not but chose to ask. “She’s good, she decided to take her depression more seriously and just checked into a hospital. So, I should get to see her in about a month or two, depending on her progress.” You were beyond happy with the news. You and Felix were childhood best friends, you knew Felix’s mom way before the depression, even before his father’s death. So to hear that his mother was finally getting the help she not only needed but deserved was amazing. “Felix that’s fucking amazing.” Felix nodded. “Yeah, it is.”

10 minutes later you found yourselves in front of Felix’s apartment building, grinning awkwardly at each other. “I hope you had fun tonight, I had to fight a very aggressive old man for those tickets.” Felix laughed, genuinely intrigued about the situation. “I did! I’m happy all your hard work wasn’t in vain.”

“Well, I’m happy you had fun.” You smiled. This was always the awkward part, the departure. “Well, I guess I should get inside now. Here’s your coat.” Felix was in the process of taking his coat off but you chose to stop him. “Keep it, you look cuter in it than me.” Felix blushed at the statement. The moon’s light illuminated your eyes, making most of your small features stand out. For example, your lips. He really couldn’t stop looking at your lips and how amazing it’ll be to kiss them. Meanwhile, you were having the same thought. Felix looked stunning in the light, his eyes met yours and you could tell both of you were sharing the same thought.

Your hand found its way to the side of his face pulling him closer until your lips finna let his. They move perfectly together as if they were made for this. As the kiss deepened, you pulled away. “You’re a really good kisser.” Felix smiled still hypnotized by the taste of your lips on his. “You’re the one to talk.” You both laughed. Felix pulled out his keys and rushed up the outdoor steps as you watched. “You coming in or what?” He giggled to which you quickly caught on and ran after him

#cookstorys #Felix x male reader #Felix #love victor #Love Victor x male reader

[soft4gguk]

to build a home | interlude: youth

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: alcohol, slight voyeurism, making out bc I love it, soft dom kook, sub reader, oral (m & female receiving), fingering, protected sex, multiple orgasms, vulnerable sex!!, they’re sweet towards one another, oc’s sober in the smut part!! do not fret, tinsy bit of after care, just overall soft tbh.

Author’s Note: hiiii <3 I am so sorry for how long this took to put out and for all the delays but it is here! I can’t believe that I’m writing this couple again – I’m so excited for the next full chapter, just writing this interlude gave me many ideas for it. As u can see from the length, I couldn’t stop writing this. It feels good! Hope u enjoy and let me know if u do <33 love u to the moon x

★ masterlist ★

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

Interlude: Youth

(this takes place sometime after chapter 10)

You find a moment of solace the minute you step into the long hallway on your quest to find the nearest toilet. You’re not necessarily in need of it, more so seeking a bit of calm as opposed to the storm that rumbles in the living room of the apartment Lucy dragged you to, in the promises of cheap booze and good music. One of her pastry chef friends was celebrating a birthday and as you casually peruse around his well-lived home, you try to make a mental effort to remember his name. It’s to no avail though, your memory failing you as it battles around with the first promise. The booze had indeed been cheap but it had been mixed with freshly squeezed orange juice and the only way you can explain such occurrence is, well, pastry chef friends. 

The second promise hasn’t quite been met, but then again you reckon music taste is a subjective matter and by no means would you want to come off as snobby. So, you danced nonetheless, making friends with a confidence you would’ve not had if the lights hadn’t been mere neon specks of green, pink and blue and if the people around you looked sober enough to hold a conversation. 

It wasn’t a bad way to spend a Saturday night and you can feel the way your body relaxes alongside your demeanour. You lean against the wall, the music now somewhat distant and muffled as the hallway encases you in contrasting silence. Your eyes close, almost involuntarily as you bask in it – the introvert in you rejoicing. 

It’s then that you hear giggles, somewhat distant but clear as day. Your eyes open, unconsciously looking for the source, slightly attracted to the giddy sounds as they begin to grow louder. Your gaze lands on a room a couple of doors down, slightly ajar as dim light shines through it. Your feet have a mind of their own as you begin making your way down, curious for some reason. 

The giggles turn into a sound that’s hard to miss – a little whimper that drags into something passionate and it takes your eyes about a second to register the image you’re posed with the moment you’re close enough to the door. They’re kissing; fervent hands roaming down each other’s bodies, quiet whispers you can’t quite make out, but sound much like the promise of love. Or perhaps it’s lust – you don’t know these people after all. For all that it’s worth they could be lovers for one night, but boy are they making it count. Her fingers get tangled in his hair as he makes his descend, pulling out little whines from her lips and though you can’t make out much, you see the way she squirms in his hold, making him laugh. That’s the last innocent sound you hear, which signals your queue to go. 

You make sure to quietly close the door as you walk past the room and into the bathroom, feeling slightly giddy and airy yourself. You’ve never been much of an spectator, having difficulty with letting yourself immerse in the explicit nature of porn because, well, it lacks a story – intimacy, a plot. Or a good one at that. Call it romanticism, you just couldn’t relate. To your good fortune, your imagination ran wild enough to do the job. Yet there’s something about what you just witnessed that has your body warming up to the touch as you bring a hand to your cheek, staring at your reflection in the mirror, a trail of shivers running up your spine. 

What you do next comes as no surprise. 

“___?”

There’s only one person on your mind, after all. Perhaps the sole reason why you feel this way.

“Jungkook,” it’s a sigh that drags a bit at the end. 

“Are you okay?” He worries. He uses that tone that doesn’t falter – stern and precise, and you blush slightly at the way your stomach flips at this. 

“Yeah- yes. I’m okay. I’m sorry, it must be late.”

You can hear his smile when he says, “nearing one o’clock. What’s up?”

“Shit. Sorry, Jungkook. I hope I didn’t wake you up. I’ll let you go-”

“Hey, no, no. Don’t worry about it. Soori’s at my parents, I had dinner pretty late and I was up reading. You didn’t wake me up.”

“What are you reading?”

He laughs at how fast your question reaches him. “The Catcher in the Rye.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh?”

“Don’t tease me. I was trying to remember what was the last book I read that I actually enjoyed. I read this before moving to New York, light years ago.”

“Bold choice for a Saturday night.” You say, humour still lacing your voice but only as to mask the troop of butterflies that settle in your gut at the image of him, in bed, shirt off perhaps, reading a book that moves him – or once did, at least. It’s intimate through your eyes, in the language you speak. 

“Yeah, I kind of feel nineteen again- wait, where are you?”

You giggle. “I’m at a party.”

“What kind of party?”

“Um,” you ponder, finding words to explain your surroundings. “A house party? Pastry chef friend of Lucy. A birthday. God awful booze. That Justin Bieber song that’s everywhere has been played three times already. You know,” you paint him a picture. 

“Well, you’ve stripped me off my fantasy. I feel twenty-eight again.” 

“I like you twenty-eight.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” it’s dreamy and he doesn’t miss it.

“You okay, baby? Why aren’t you out there having fun?”

You giggle yet again. 

“Hm,” he gives. “Are you drunk?” 

“I shouldn’t be. I had one drink- and a half!”

He laughs at this. “And a half?”

“Yeah. Don’t patronize me.”

“Never. You are a bit of a lightweight, though.”

“And what if I am?”

You’re going around in circles, prolonging the conversation because you’d take any excuse to keep him on the line. 

“Nothing. You’re perfect like that. Just be careful, okay? Is Lucy there? Is she okay?” He’s aware he sounds very much like Jungkook the dad, but he can’t help it.

“Yeah. Lucy’s dancing – she’s an extrovert, you see. Unlike me. I like the bathroom.” 

He lets out a breathy chuckle. “Go dance with her, you’re a good dancer.”

“I called because I missed you.”

“I miss you, too.” He hesitates for a second, wanting to say more but at the same time not wanting to keep you away from the party that he can hear going on at the end of the line. “Go have fun. Go be young.” 

You want to tell him that it’s with him that you feel young. Alive, impulsive, brave. All of your favourite sentiments. But you opt for a soft, “okay.”

“I’ll see you Monday?”

“Okay.” 

And so, the line disconnects and you pretend like that’s enough. You attempt to fool your heart into believing your short phone call satiated your longing. The way your brain fogged up with the thought of him, over and over again as the night progressed. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about him. Over drinks and seamless conversations, Lucy’s futile attempts at keeping you on the makeshift dancefloor for more than two songs, it was him who your thoughts landed on. 

You think about that couple – probably tangled up in each other’s bodies right now, in some stranger’s bed yet too blissed out to care, let alone move from the embrace. You think about the way Jungkook holds you after he’s had you, like he doesn’t want to let you go. Like he doesn’t have to; time his greatest ally as it stops for just you two. 

Your heart wins and that’s how you end up back in the bathroom, temple pressed against the wooden door as the phone rings in your ear. Through the reflection in the mirror, you can see your flushed cheeks. You blame the alcohol and the way your stomach flutters in anticipation – not knowing whether he’ll answer your slightly drunken, yet passionate call. 

Passionate is a stretch, you realize, but you can’t help it feeling like so. 

“___?”

“I’m okay. I’m safe.” You say, sensing the worry in his voice the moment he picks up. “Did I wake you up?”

“No. Halfway through The Catcher in the Rye now…,” you hear the bedsheets shuffling, can picture him getting comfortable, a bit sleepy and relaxed – supple. You wish you could be there.

“I’m now two and a half drinks in…”

“Hm… and how many dances?”

“Maybe three. And three quarters.”

He laughs at this and the smile that paints your face follows right after. “Having fun?”

“I am. But missing you makes it hard.”

If you could see him, you wouldn’t miss the way his cheeks take on the prettiest shade of red – suddenly warm against the coolness of his pillows. 

When he stays quiet, you sigh. “Is this extremely juvenile?”

“A little.” 

“I wish I cared,” you say.

“I don’t want you to.” You hear shuffling yet again and his voice picks up distance when he says, “where are you?”

“Pastry chef’s birthday party, I told you.”

“No, I meant- send me your location.”

You can barely contain your smile, biting your lip as you tease him. “What for?”

He rolls his eyes and somehow, you know this. “Wanna see you. Maybe feed you as well.”

“As in sexually?”

He snorts. “No. As in carbs. You’re drunk, missy.”

“I am not! I only had two and-”

“A half drinks, yeah, yeah. Now send me your location. I’m on my way to you.”

He hangs up and the reflection in the mirror smiles back at you. Giddy, happy, young. 

~

“I love carbs.” You say, voice muffled as you not so graciously bite into your burger. 

“Hm,” Jungkook agrees, biting into his own, eyes glued to you as you close your eyes and moan in pure satisfaction. “I can see that. Not even I get those sounds out of you.”

You chuckle over a mouthful, hand coming up to save your grace as best as you can. “Don’t get too jealous. I’d choose your meat any day.”

He chokes, completely taken aback by your words, eyes wide staring at you with an amused look on his face. 

“I do apologize for that, I let my intrusive thoughts take over.”

He laughs at your blank expression, nonchalant as you shove a handful of fries into your mouth. “No, please. Don’t apologize. Dirty talk me further, it’s flattering.”

“I’m trying to come up with a good pun that relates to this milkshake… but my brain is fried,” you say, holding up a French fry, a cheeky grin adorning your face. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he holds your face, squeezing your cheeks and making your lips pout as he brings his closer, giving you a kiss that ends way too soon for your liking. 

You’re sat inside his car, in the middle of the empty parking lot of a McDonalds. Your drunken indecisiveness made the drive thru experience surely something, and Jungkook simply ended up ordering one of everything that caught your eye. He laughs to himself at the thought that you wouldn’t be able to finish it, proving him wrong as you bask in the bliss only carbs can offer in your drunken state. 

“Jungkook,” you call, glassy eyes staring at him.

“Yeah?” He leans forwards, lips closing around the straw, sipping on your vanilla milkshake as his big eyes stare up at you.

“Don’t take me home- to mine, I mean. I wanna be with you…”

He smiles. “Okay. You’re coming with me.” 

He kisses you, lips sweet and soft and it’s so easy to fall into the act, moving closer to him – wanting more. You’re greedy, you realize. Another inevitable trace of the youth in you, the youth he ignites from you. You pull away, only for a second, hazy eyes taking him in. His hair is messy, longer now. White long-sleeved shirt and grey sweatpants, so boy and so yours. He smiles when he catches you staring, sweet and knowing as he takes you in as well. 

You shorten the distance, lips crashing into his with more fervour now, hands traveling to the back of his neck as your fingers tangle in the strands of hair at his nape. He gives in easily, sighing against your lips and letting your tongue meet his as you deepen the kiss. A throaty whimper passes your lips, reaching his and bringing him back from the cloud that kissing you encases him in. 

“Wait, wait,” he pants against your mouth.

“Why,” you ask, pouting. 

“You’re drunk, baby.” He puts distance between you two as he settles back into the driver’s seat.

You follow his movements, huffing a bit stubbornly as you know you won’t convince him with this, and not wanting to make him uncomfortable either.

“Let’s go home, yeah? You’re probably tired. We can cuddle and watch The Cooking Channel.”

You can’t help but smile at this, glassy eyes staring at him as your hand settles back at his nape, massaging it tenderly. “I’d like that, yes.”

It feels… good. And it’s then that you realize that perhaps this night has brought a different kind of intimacy. One that’s less physical yet intentional, not lacking the personal dynamic you guys have settled into. 

It fills you with hope. 

It fills you with all the good things in the world, really.

~

You begin to slip into total soberness the moment you step inside his house, the car ride had been quiet yet pleasing; soft music playing through the speakers, the ambient lights turned blue and his hand in yours. You thought the butterflies in your stomach over the simple act were due to the alcohol but now you it’s proven to be a false statement. You don’t run away from the feeling, though – it’s too good.

He tells you to get comfortable, offers up his shower as he retrieves a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie from his walk-in closet, telling you to feel at home as he goes to the kitchen to fetch you a glass of water and some painkillers so the hangover won’t get you tomorrow. 

You stand under the hot streams, it cascades over your body, relaxing you immediately. Closing your eyes, you just stand there, a certain quiet and peace about the moment that feels comforting and it takes your mind mere seconds to fall back into Jungkook. You think of him and his comfy clothes. His messy hair and slightly tired eyes. You think about the discarded copy of The Catcher in the Rye you found on top of his sheets the moment you stepped inside his bedroom. And of the times you’ve spent in this shower – in his company, his embrace. His hands on you, his lips an incoherent prayer against yours that you understood all too well, simply because you spoke his same language. Simply because you felt the same. You think of the couple back at the party – you think of youth. 

When you step back inside his bedroom, you’re wearing the fluffy robe he’d left out for you, your long hair still wet and dripping at the ends. Your mind’s clear and set, and you know what you want next. You’re only hoping he grants it. 

He’s perched against the pillows, book in hand once again and he must be invested because it takes him a beat too long to look up at you.

“How was your shower?” He smiles when he sees you.

“It was good, thank you.”

“Hm,” he says, sighing as he lets his body fall back into the soft pillows, head tilting a bit as he watches you walk over to him. Your knee touches the bed, hands on the mattress as you crawl over to him. “Hey…” he has a lazy smile, almost like he knows.

“I missed you.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that…” he feigns indifference but his cheeks tint red and his legs open slightly as you get closer, making space for you. 

You roll your eyes. “Fine, I won’t say it again.”

“That’s a cruel punishment for such an innocent joke, don’t you think?”

“What? You like to know I miss you?” He simply hums, as if contemplating. “That I wish you were there, and by there, I mean everywhere. Even if I don’t think you would’ve enjoyed the cheap booze and shitty music.” 

He finally gives, laughing the way you love most, nose scrunch and everything. “I would’ve endured it for you.”

“I rather be here.”

And it’s then that his hands reach out, cupping your face, bringing you closer, letting his lips fall into yours as you kiss, slow but with fervour, with want and need – love and lust. It has a gentleness to it, the kiss. The way his thumb runs slow circles against your shin as you capture his bottom lip between your teeth slowly, no rush behind your actions. He whines against your mouth, in pure pleasure as the air grows heavy around you in the best way possible. 

You don’t waste time as you let your hand fall from his chest to his lap, dangerously close to where he wants you the most. He jumps a little at the contact. Paradoxically enough, the impulse behind the need for him and the desire to take your time blend perfectly together, and you let your fingers dance over the waistband of his sweats, caressing the soft skin of his abdomen, feeling the ridges and his strength as his tummy clenches in anticipation. 

“Wait,” he pulls away, gaze looking for yours and you already know what he’s about to say next.

“I’m fine – I promise. I’m sober. I want this, I need you, Jungkook.”

“I need you, too.”

Your lips crash against his again, passionately and a bit harsher this time in attempts to let him know. You give – you give as your fingers hook against the elastic of his sweatpants, finding him at half mast over his Calvin’s. He whimpers against your tongue, head falling back into the pillows, bringing you with him as he catches you off guard. You chuckle at this, lips running over his jaw, down the crook of his neck as you leave wet kisses against his warm skin. He smells so good – soft and homey, the way you love it the most. His scent is slowly starting to resemble home to you.

His cock hardens against your touch the more you add pressure to the slow strokes and when his throaty moans start to sound a bit too impatient you give yet again, making your way down and helping him get rid of his sweatpants and boxers. You make a little show of removing your robe, letting it fall past your shoulders. His eyes follow your every move, his big hand taking a hold of his cock, slow strokes aiding his pleasure. You settle between his legs, tummy against the mattress as you replace his hand with yours, looking up at him as he bites his lip and gives a little nod, encouraging you to keep going. 

When you take him in your mouth, his hand falls to your cheek, eyes closing in pleasure as a moan leaves his pink lips. Your tongue travels from base to tip, coating him in your saliva as you try to get him as wet as you possible can for you. Your lips close around the head and his gaze travels back down, hazy eyes looking at you. You give a little suck, testing the waters as your tongue flattens against his frenulum, moving the muscle expertly from side to side before you’re taking him as much as you can. You gag as you feel him against your throat, his fingers tangling in your wet hair. 

“Fuck. I love your mouth. I love your mouth so much.”

You repeat the motions, tongue swirling over the head of his cock, paying attention to the places you know feel the best for him before your throat is closing around him – slow and then all too fast, leaving him a heaving mess in no time. 

“I love how big you feel on my tongue, Koo,” you look up at him, catching your breath as your hand strokes his throbbing cock, the feeling almost ecstatic to Jungkook with all the extra lubrication from your saliva. 

“Yeah?” And even though it’s rhetoric, you nod, glassy eyes looking up at him, sending his head into a spiral over how good you look right now – fucked out in front of his cock. “You look so fucking pretty down there, baby.”

With little warning, you take him in your mouth again, deepthroating him easily this time. You don’t miss the whine that passes his lips, or the way his fingers tighten against your scalp, pulling a little, sending a shiver down your spine in pure pleasure. Your hand travels down, playing with his balls as his grip gets tighter. You moan against his cock and it makes Jungkook’s stomach clench, walking dangerously close to the edge. He pulls you away in one swift movement, not so gently, but you like it. You like it so much that you dare push him further, tongue flicking over his tip, circling around the sensitive skin, head hovering against his cock as he holds your head by your hair. You smile when his dick twitches, looking up at him as he hisses. 

“Stop.” He warns, his deep voice making you clench around nothing. 

“Please,” you beg, trying to get closer to him, to feel him hot and heavy against your tongue again. 

He tugs harder at your scalp. “You don’t listen well, do you?”

“Want you to cum,” you gasp as his grip tightens, “down my throat.”

He has to close his eyes for a second to gather back his composure. He loves it when you get filthy for him, your words not matching that sweet face of yours. But he doesn’t bend, stopping you yet again with a firm, “no.”

He moves quickly, so much so you barely register the way he pulls you up and closer to him before he’s pushing you back against the bed and hovering on top of you. 

“Behave.” He relishes in the way you can’t quite reach his lips, a desperate little whimper passing your plump lips. “Because bad girls get nothing, baby. Be good.”

“Fuck, Jungkook. P-please, touch me. Please.”

“You’re so needy today, aren’t you?” 

“I am- I need you so bad. Couldn’t stop thinking about you the whole night.” You push your hips closer to his, in a frail attempt to feel him, but it’s to no avail, leaving you panting.

“Yeah? Tell me. Tell me what you thought about.”

His hand makes a steady descend down your body, fingers grazing your nipple as you arch your back before he’s bringing his mouth down to hover over it, his hot breath makes the bud harden and he runs his tongue over it. 

You moan in sweet relief at having his mouth on you.

“Tell me, baby. Be a good girl for me.”

“I- I thought about how much I missed you.” He sucks on your nipple, making your nerves aware of him, tummy clenching in pleasure. “I was looking for the bathroom and- and I saw something.” You’re a stuttering mess but he follows. 

“What did you see?” He looks up at you, mouth traveling to your other nipple, his hand gripping your waist before it travels to your hips, his gentle touch there heavily contrasting from the way his teeth bite gently at the sensitive skin of your breasts. 

“I- a couple, I think. They were…,” your eyes close, moaning in pleasure as his hand snakes in-between your thighs. “In a room, they- they were kissing.”

“Hm. That so?”

“Y-yeah, shit. Yeah,” you sigh, your whole body tensing and relaxing repeatedly as his fingers run against your slit, quickly parting your lips and gathering your slick before his nimble fingers circle your clit. 

“What else?” He asks, adding more pressure against your sensitive bud, tongue working your nipple. You drift, focused on the pleasure he’s igniting as opposed to his question. “What else, ___? Focus, angel.”

“He, oh my god.” His middle and ring finger circle against your opening before pushing inside of you slowly. “He was going down on her.” You say, in-between moans as he begins shallowly thrusting into you. 

“And you stood there and watched?” You nod, it’s all you can do. “That’s naughty, isn’t it? Would’ve never guessed it from that sweet face of yours.”

“I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Did you think of me doing that to you? Kissing you…,” he brings his lips back to yours, kissing you for a brief moment before he continues, “going down on you…” his fingers press against that spot and it has you mewling against his lips. He chuckles. “You did, huh…”

“Y-yeah. Yeah, Jungkook. I did.”

“What else did you think about?”

He makes his way down, settling between your legs, wasting no time as his tongue runs a stripe against your slit, fingers moving in and out of you as his lips close around your clit, giving light suckles to it in between long strokes of his tongue.

“I thought about how much I like the way you make me feel,” you’re freed of inhibitions, mind too clouded with pleasure to hold back a feeling, let alone the world of you feel for Jungkook. “About how in a room full of people, you wouldn’t leave my mind for long enough to not long for you.” Your last words get caught up in a whimper. 

He looks up at you, something you can’t quite read dancing around his irises. “I like the way you say things, have I told you that?” You nod, because he has. It’s a vulnerable moment you two share, beyond the physicality of your actions. You look into his eyes, moaning again as he lands a soft kiss against your clit. “So sweet – you’re so sweet, baby.” 

“Jungkook,” it’s a sigh, the way you say his name. Your hands run through his hair, bringing him closer to you. “Fuck me. Please.”

He gives one last suck to suck your clit, quickly moving towards his bedside table, retrieving a condom before he’s removing his shirt. Your legs open further for him, welcoming him back between them. You watch as he tears the foil open with his teeth, rolling the condom over his shaft in one swift motion. Your hands reach out for him, bringing him closer to you as his chest presses against yours. 

“You ready, baby?”

You nod, pulling him closer to you to you can kiss him, your lips parting in pleasure the moment his tip enters you, slowly pushing into you. It takes all the self-control in him to not plunge into you. You feel so wet and tight around him, gripping his cock tighter every time he pushes an inch further. 

“You feel so good. So, so good. Baby,” he whispers against your lips, bottoming out and letting you get used to his girth for a second. 

“So do you- fuck, Koo.” You kiss him, legs wrapping around his waist as you push him closer to you, silently begging him to move. And when he does, your vision goes white – pleasure taking over you, the heat he radiates in your closeness making everything better tenfold. “I wanted this s-so bad. S-so much. Wanted you so much.” You ramble against his lips, needy and fucking precious in his eyes.

He hisses at the way you clench around him, his thrusts getting deeper, your words making his head spin and his body even more receptive to you. 

“Sweet. You’re so fucking sweet. Can’t believe those pretty words are coming from the same pretty mouth that begs for my cock.”

“All for you, Jungkook. A-always. I always want you- hmmphh,” your words get lost in the moans he coaxes out of you. His movements picking up pace, hand cupping your cheek as he stares deeply into your eyes, both your gazes in a battle to stay alert, the pleasure all too consuming as you fall into the way he fucks you. So good and so deep – slow but with an intention that doubles as strength, determined to make you feel good and succeeding the more he buries himself inside of you. 

“I’m so close, baby,” you say, fingers running through his black hair, tugging on it whenever he hits that spot inside of you, your entire body locking in pleasure the more he does.

“Yeah, baby?” His hand travels between your bodies, taking you by slight surprise the moment his thumb glides over your clit. You’re so wet it’s an easy and quick little movement that has you clenching tightly around him, your moans growing louder against his ear. 

“Jungkook I- I’m gonna cum.” 

“Cum for me, sweet girl. Fuck, cum all over me.” 

His words tip you over the edge, abruptly and deliciously as you cum all over his cock, nails digging into his scalp with force you don’t even recognize as he hisses at the feeling. You clench and lock under him, tears falling over your temple as he fucks you through the high. 

“That was so good, Koo. You make me feel so fucking good. Cum for me, please. I want to feel you cum on me.”

In a split second, he flips you over, cheek against the mattress, ass up for him as he pushes back into you. He thrusts quicker now, and your body shakes in over sensitivity, pussy continuously clenching around him, getting him closer and closer by the second. His view adds to it, and he can’t help it when his big palm lands right on your ass cheek. You whimper in pleasure at the sharp feeling, your pussy throbbing and it takes him about a minute for him to pull another orgasm out of you. It’s not as intense but it drags on, taking over your body as you shake underneath him. 

“Fuck, ___. You’re so tight around me, baby. I’m gonna cum.”

He pulls out, languidly stroking his cock as you push your ass up for him, looking back over your shoulder because you’d be damned if you missed the way his eyes flutter in pleasure, dark hair sticking to his forehead as he bites his lip in pleasure, throaty moans leaving his pouty mouth. He cums all over your back, making you sigh as you feel the hot strings of his pleasure land on your soft skin. It’s one hell of a sight and he hisses, cringing in oversensitivity as he fails to stop his pumps, not wanting this moment to end. 

“Shit,” he falls next to you on the bed.

You giggle. “I agree…”

He turns to you, both your eyes struggling to stay open as sleepiness begins to settle around you, the adrenaline simmering as exhaustion takes its place. But you look beautiful, his hand weakly reaching for you, fingers pushing your hair behind your ear as he scoots closer, planting a sweet kiss on your lips. 

“Stay here,” another kiss, “I’ll get you cleaned up, baby.”

“Okay- but hurry,” you say, pulling him in for another kiss.

He chuckles as he makes his way towards the bathroom. 

“Not done missing me yet?”

He’s out of your line of vision as your eyes flutter and eventually close, a deep sigh leaving you as you respond,

“Never.”

~

to build a home is back and hopefully better than ever besties and gentleman!! please, please do let me know if u enjoyed this - I'm feeling kinda nervous writing this again!! also, I think I got everyone that asked on the taglist, but if I didn't get u or u want to be in it just send me an ask :) or let me know!! love uuuuuu missed uuuuuu kisseeeeeees xx

★taglist★

@roro-in-utopia @yiyi4657 @littlrmills14-blog @namjooningelsewhere @drownforryou @iwanttohitmyself @finelinememories @yukiehyukie @shatzkrinslinzki @bts-fic-recs-mess @kokoandkookie @subtlepjiminie @hobipost @kookiesbreaky @di0rgguk @bloopkook @babyrosieareroses @kookiecrumb @casspirit0705 @eclectictacozinewobbler @tickledpink55 @rjsmochii @dimcorner @miniiimee @vintageroses10 @amyniu @tessxblxckthorn @emotionaltrashcansblog @fangirl125reader @laurynne5 @thickgrinch @dianaxnyc @ruinsofangels @berryonasummerevening @taeslarityy @hisunshiine @preciouschiminie @ruclements @galaxyflab @jalexad @missseoulite @bangtannoonalvg @kootonins @lustremyg @kissme-ornot @92thk @everythingaboutfangirling @cakecobain @callmejimmeo @simp4tae @landl7xoxo @jungjoonie @sanfransolomitatm @primadonnasdream @justinetingball @thesugatoyourtae @ysljoon @vhopeisdope @cantchooseanameby @lookhere-2seok @bruisedscrewedandtattooed @masterpiecejoonie @hinawariinoue97 @chimswae @jsnfjdjsbcfj @levisblackbabe @loolaajt @xoxogukie @fatifatimahm @sbroces

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #dilf!jungkook #nanny!reader #strangers to lovers #jungkook pwp #bts x reader #bts au #bts x you #bts smut #smut series #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook fic recs #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bangtan #dad!jungkook #tbah #single dad jungkook #jungkook series

[relocatedheads]

Mechanic!Eddie Headcanons

it’s been a few months - and its Christmas season - so this calls for a part 4

a link to previous parts!

the cold hits hard in Indiana so naturally the shop get cold

queue Eddie never-felt-the-warmth-in-his-life Munson coming in a vest and t-shirt under his overalls 

yes overalls are the winter wear

he will always be rubbing his hands together blowing on them when he’s in the back office waiting for a car to come in

winter time means fixing heaters and replacing loads of batteries

he defo parks his van inside the garage because he’s against having to scrap the ice off it more than once a day

ohmygod when he’s worked there for a while - long enough that Wayne is confident Eddie is going to sick to it for a while HE BUYS HIM STEEL TOE CAPS FOR CHRISTMAS

The two of them are lounging on the sofa after their make shift small Christmas dinner, the sink is clear of dirty dishes, the trailer smelling faintly of roast potatoes and mint sauce, the tv is blaring old Christmas movies and the lights from the tree gives a cosy feel to the whole thing. 

Wayne’s in his arm chair, coffee rested in his hand and on the arm, Eddie is sprawled across the 2 seater, legs dangling of the edge slightly. The two sit in a comfortable silence, only filling it with “want another drink?” or snide remark about what they’d do the character position, followed by the other man laughing and completely disagreeing. It was love - pure familiar love that the two of them had grown to accept as their chunk of normality. 

They’d shared their gifts this morning: Eddie giving Wayne a new mug and a few new plaid shirts he’d found in a thrift shop in the high street, Wayne gifting Eddie some new patches and a new ring. 

As the film drew on, Wayne silently got up, leaving his coffee by his chair and going out to his car. The late evening gifts were a Wayne trade secret. From Eddie’s gorgeous guitar to the keys to the van he rolls around in - all late evening ‘before you go to bed, I love you’ remarks. 

“Where you going?” Eddie shouted as his Uncle opened the door, leaving it open, “You’re about to miss the most unexpected twist!”

His sarcasm made Wayne chuckle, “Gimme 2 seconds, boy.”

“You’re letting the heat out!”

Wayne walked back in with a box. It was retained, wrapped in red plaid paper. Eddie’s eyebrows arched at his Uncle. Wordlessly, the elder shut the door, sitting back down in his chair, Eddie following him with his eyes and sitting up. “Did your receptionist finally reveal her undying love for you?” Wayne cocked a brow, lips straight. “Don’t look at me like that - what’s more romantic than a show of love at a time of year like this?” There was teasing in Eddie’s tone.

“Boy, shut up. This is for you.” 

“Your receptionist ain’t really my type-”

 “You're an idiot- it’s from me.”

“But we’ve already given each other our gifts..” He wiggled his hand, the new ring glistened.

“Yes, but I forgot one.” There it was. The small, almost missable, Wayne smirk. The same one Eddie learnt to develop in time of confident happiness.

The present was thrusted into his hands, Ed sat it on his lap, opening it, eyeing his parental figure every now and then. The plain box created more confusion. With squinted brows, pursed lips and a tilted head, he opened the box. Inside sat 2 well conditioned Doc. Martin steel toe cap boots. 

“Holy shit Wayne- I can’t accept these!”

He couldn't help the blistering smile, “You can and you will. If you’re going to be running around that garage for years, you ain’t doing it in them sneakers of yours.” The infamous some how always clean white reeboks. When Eddie looked at Wayne, there was nothing but love, appreciation and something heavier in his eyes, “I know how much you enjoy it there, boy, how much at home you feel. And I also know how you don't like all the protective gear, so I thought these were the best way to keep a little part of you safe.”

Eddie just smiled. Smiled the same way he did when he was 6 and Wayne let him mess around on his old acoustic, the same smile when Wayne helped him pin up the first poster, when Wayne showed him how to stitch. It was the little things, the feelings behind the actions. 

Wayne started Eddie on the trend of a flask of hot coffee 

So every morning Eddie was pull into the garage, jump out the van - him and his flask - and sit behind the desk letting the heat warm him up

The boys would tease him when it snowed

“Got snow in your hair, Gorgeous!” 

“Too cold for ya yet, Girlie?”

Can just imagine him complaining every 5 minutes: “Its so cold!” “Can we please buy more heaters?” “How are you lot not cold?”

Queue him being told: “You’re so dramatic” “How are you Wayne’s boy? That man used to run around his truck in a t-shirt in this weather!” “Thought that hair of yours would keep you warm.”

He is always shocked whenever he goes into his drawers / tool box and the tool he’s getting is cold

He’s known for alway playing his music too loudly but this time of year, he does it do he can dance to it to keep himself warm

Oh he’s gotta go do the rubbish? take in a delivery? Yeaahhh he’s palming that job onto the new apprentice 

#Eddie munson #mechanic!eddie #mechanic!Eddie munson #st4 #Eddie munson headcanons #Eddie munson fluff #wayne munson #Eddie and wayne munson #the munsons #Eddie munson fanfiction #Eddie munson fanfic #stranger things 4 #Eddie munson stranger things #joesph quinn #joesph Quinn headcanons #Joe Quinn

[noodyl-blasstal]

okay perhaps: build a bear receipt, Mortified, perhaps to literal death, annnnnnd Barry :3

Did this get slightly out of hand? Who could say (me, it did.)

From this prompt list.

-

Barry knew what Build a Bear was, well, conceptually. You went in, you spent an obscene amount of money, you came out with a creature - possibly one wearing sunglasses and a tutu. It hadn’t been a thing when Barry was a kid, not one his Mum could afford anyway. But now he was stood in one, overwhelmed, confused, and being pressured to make decisions quickly.

The type was easy, Beary Bluejeans had to be a bear. Tick tick, done. Or, it should have been done, but there were 18 different kinds of bear to choose from and no clear parameters for selection. Every single one of them was a sad deflated puddle of fluff, and sure, Barry could relate, but he also knew there had to be a right answer. Gifts were a test. Probably. Well, Barry thought they were a test, and he had never met a test he couldn’t worry extensively about. Lup probably wouldn’t mind, this was just a small gesture, a little joke between friends. She called him Bear, he was going to get her a bear with his signature jeans. Casual, fun, no one’s harbouring any massive crushes and may or may not be in love with anyone else. Lup saw him as a friend and that was fine. All good! What was not all good, was the crowd of children building up around him. He was finding this hard enough without kids bashing into his legs, all sharp elbows and whirling rucksack attacks. 

After intense deliberation he decided on a soft medium-brown teddy the shelf proclaimed was ‘vintage.’ Barry could relate, he was vintage too. The modern bears had intensely large eyes or fur that didn’t feel as nice under his fingers - this guy though, this little soft puddle could be him, could be Lup’s, he could be Lup’s… Another kid slammed their elbow into his knee and Barry staggered. How much did he actually need to be here? He could leave, he could put Beary down and go, Lup would never know, no one would know, he didn’t make any promises about doing this. ‘Man Incapable of Purchasing Bear’ would only be a headline in his brain. It might be nice to have a fun new failure to torture himself about at 2am when he couldn’t sleep? Something funky fresh to add to the flagellation rotation. Even as he entertained the thought he knew he wouldn’t do it. The gesture was good, the joke was good, it would make Lup laugh, he loved to make Lup laugh, it was worth some bruising. 

Barry finally escaped from the scrum round the toy pelts? Skins? It all sounded bad. He needed to stop thinking about it in taxidermy terms, but this sure was a skin without the meat. Build a Bear was taxidermy for babies and no one could tell him any different. At least he knew the next step, they probably weren’t working with armature, so it’d be stuffing. He had definitely walked past some kind of woolly slushy machine on the way in so he tried to retrace his steps. Did the shop actually need to be this big and this full of people? Maybe they should do adult-only hours where everyone could just pick their bears in silence and form orderly queues and not run into anyone else actually.

“Excuse me!” Someone tapped lightly on his shoulder.

“Sorry, was I supposed to pay over there? I didn’t realise, I thought I did it at the end.” He couldn’t call Lup to bail him out if he got arrested. He couldn’t ruin the surprise… also she’d want pictures, his mug shot would be on t-shirts, mugs, pyjama sets, pillows, he’d never ever live it down. “I’ll pay now here, let me just grab...” Barry nearly dropped Beary as he fumbled for his wallet, but he couldn’t afford to get arrested right now. The stakes were high.

“Oh, you’re not in any trouble Sir! You forgot to get a sound and you can’t forget your new friend’s heart!” She smiled so big that Barry didn’t dare ask what most of the words meant. 

“Ah, uh, okay… uh, where do I…?”

“I’ll show you, come with me! I’m Lydia.” Barry tried not to acknowledge the look on her face which clearly telegraphed This Idiot Can’t Bear.

“It’s fine, you can just, uh, point me in the right direction, I just need the stuffing and I should, ah, be fine.” Barry was going to expire on the spot and emerge a terrifying spectre, no one could grab him and make him keep doing bears if he was incorporeal. Lup probably wouldn’t mind, she’d probably think it was rad to be friends with a death spectre… in fact, Barry was fairly sure he remembered her saying something about it being cool to bang a ghost… huh… nope! He couldn’t follow that thought anywhere right now, because apparently he had to think about what sound Beary was going to make and also there was a heart and fuck fuck fuck. Lydia had definitely been explaining. Barry nodded enthusiastically, not wanting her to realise he’d been ignoring her, this wasn’t her fault and she had a job to do.

“Great, it’s 20 seconds. If you head to the bathroom it’ll be a bit quieter.” She shoved a contraption and Barry and nodded encouragingly. “Just speak clearly into it, and remember, 20 seconds. Once you’re done, come back and we’ll start the ceremony.” 

“Ceremony? I… wh…” She cut Barry off with a gentle shove towards the bathrooms. There probably wasn’t any point in arguing, he’d already agreed so apparently he was recording a message… a message for Lup. That was fine. He could do that.

Barry couldn’t do that.

Barry was seven practice recordings deep.

Barry was never going to leave the bathroom, he lived here now. If he didn’t record the message then it couldn’t be bad, that was just science. Flawless hypothesis.

He’d already tried something casual. “Hey Lup, it’s me, Beary. I think you’re Beary wonderful.” Bad. Awful. Terrible. D-, she’s never speaking to him again. Funny: “Bear with me, voice message loading…” also bad. Heartfelt… he couldn’t even think about what he’d said, he’d been rambling long after the 20 seconds were done. The bear noises had been fun, roaring in a toilet was a strange experience and Barry usually loved strange experiences, but this was absolutely not it. “Will you Beary me?” was great on the pun front, terrible on the we’re-just-friends-I’m-definitely-not-in-love-with-you side of things. Ghost noises almost won the day until he considered her accidentally rolling on it in the night and waking up spooked. The time he dropped the recorder and swore a lot while trying to pick it up was probably the best of the bunch.

Eventually he settled on Arrane Ben-Vlieaun, or, “the magic cow song” as Lup insisted. He found a corner next to the sink which seemed to have relatively reasonable acoustics and rumbled the first bit out “Cur dty vainney, cur dty vainney, choud's mish ta goaill arrane. Lhig yn curn nish goll harrish, lesh dty vainney my vooaveen.” There. That was probably fine. Lup sometimes got him to sing it when she was struggling to sleep, it made sense to pre-load it in Beary. He definitely didn’t have time for any more attempts, he was surprised Lydia hadn’t already burst through the wall like a terrifyingly peppy terminator.

She zeroed in on him when he emerged. “There you are! I thought you’d gotten lost, are you ready?” 

Barry hesitated, maybe he could try one more time… he pulled his hand back as Lydia reached out for the device. No, eight was enough, it had to be enough. The cow song was fine. He nodded and handed over the recording majigger. Lydia smiled even wider, Barry debated counting her teeth, she definitely had too many.

“Fantastic!” Lydia said, then set off towards the fluff box. Barry followed, there was no way off the ride at this point, he may as well keep his arms and legs inside the car. “Okay, so this is very important, we’re going to perform the heart ceremony.” 

Barry is fairly sure this is going to be different to the type of heart ceremonies in his books at home… probably? There definitely weren’t any ceremonial knives on display. “Okay?”

“You’re going to develop your special bond with your new friend…?” Lydia paused and looked at Barry expectantly.

“Beary.” 

“Beary. Huh…”

“He’s called Beary Bluejeans.” Barry added, thinking that might make her stop doing the squinchy face at him. It didn’t.

“That’s… super!” She said after a long pause. “So, we’re going to make sure you and Beary build a special bond and you always look after him and love him forever and ever.”

“It’s okay, we can just do the stuffing, that’s fine, I uh, I don’t need to, you know, do the uh, the bonding thing.” 

Lydia gave him a hard look. “We don’t send the bears home with just anyone, we need to know you’re going to look after Beary Bluejeans.”

Barry wasn’t sure he’d felt fear like this before… did he actually like Lup enough to go through with this? Was he scared enough of Lydia to do whatever she said? “What do I have to do?” He’d die for Lup, multiple times if necessary, and he was fairly sure Lydia would put him in the ground without a second thought - still smiling - if she felt he wouldn’t be a competent guardian for Beary.

Lydia solemnly handed him a small plastic heart. “This is Beary Bluejeans’ heart. We’re going to establish your bond now. Are you ready?”

Barry waited for further instruction.

“Are. You. Ready?” He wasn’t sure a polite tone had ever felt so much like knives.

“Yeah, uh, yes Lydia.”

Her smile was back. “Fantastic, take Beary’s heart and rub it on your toes so he’s totally awesome.” 

“I’m… what?”

“Rub it on your toes so he’s totally awesome.” Lydia repeated, then mimed the action. Barry looked longingly towards the exit, it wasn’t that far, he could probably just drop Beary’s floppy corpse and run. “Sir, on your toes, so he’s toe-tally awesome.” 

Barry bent over and ignored the rice crispies and milk noises his back made in protest. He swiped the plastic across his shoe.

“Now rub it on your cheeks so Beary gives warm smiles.” Barry didn’t think it was particularly hygienic to rub something on his toes and then his face, but who was he to fly in the face of the experts? He rubbed the heart quickly on his cheek.

“Rub it on your hip so he’s hip and cool.”

Barry was at least 90% Lydia was messing with him by this point. Barry wasn’t hip, he wasn’t cool, and he certainly wasn’t funky fresh. If Taako was here Barry could probably scoop up some of his vibes, but Barry certainly wasn’t a reliable coolness supply. Beary was going to get Barry’s clicky hip, lose all the street cred he’d earned in his short life, and say goodbye to his fuzzy charisma.

“Nearly there! Rub it on your arms so Beary always gives good hugs.”

Barry promised himself he was never going to return to Build a Bear, this was hell, Lydia was the devil. He swished the heart near his arm.

“Like you mean it, Sir. You want him to give good hugs don’t you?” Lydia sing songed, loudly enough for the line behind him to hear.

Barry quickly rubbed the heart more forcefully across both arms.

“Now spin around to make him magical!” Barry was not going to spin around, he was going to think heavy thoughts and let himself sink into the floor. He wouldn’t have to exist in this room or any room ever again, he wouldn’t have to spin around with a stupid anatomically inaccurate heart, or deal with the line of children who were probably staring and laughing at him right now. Floor Barry, Flarry, he’d never have let this happen. “Don’t you want Beary to be magical, Barry?” No. He wanted Beary to be finished so he could leave. But Lup, Lup would probably want Beary to be magical… fine. Fine! Barry was going to spin around. He shuffled in a begrudging circle.

“And lastly, make a big wish!”

Barry wished this was over. That he was at home. That he hadn’t decided to get Lup this stupid bear. He wished he was brave enough to tell her he’d been in love with her for the last 8 years and probably would be for the rest of his life. But none of these wishes seemed like something he should wrap up in Beary. Barry considered for a moment, then wished, and wished hard that Lup would like him. Beary… obviously. The wish would know who he meant, it didn’t matter how he phrased it.

“So lastly, I need you to promise to always care for Beary, and seal the magic promise with a kiss.” Lydia was dead behind the eyes, Barry could tell, no one could be this chipper, not for the 6 years her badge said she’d worked there.

“Okay.” Said Barry. There was an excruciating pause. Lydia looked at him expectantly. Was he supposed to say more? Were there proper words? “I promise to, uh, to, take care of you Beary?” 

“Are you asking, or telling?” Lydia said sweetly.

“I promise to always take care of you Beary.” Please let this be over.

“Now kiss his heart.”

This definitely wasn’t hygienic, not with all the rubbing and spinning. Barry decided to keep those concerns to himself. Lydia finally seemed satisfied, and instructed him on the foot pedal that would help him add the fluff to Beary.

They stuffed, fluffed, stopped for hug tests, and decided on the appropriate firmness. Barry could feel the heat in his face, but at least no one he knew was here to see it. Taako would never let him life this down. But it was fine, he was a 50 year old guy cuddle testing a bear which occasionally sang about milk at him in his own gravelly hum when he pressed the voice chip by accident and that was fine. Twenty entire seconds of excruciating singing while he waited for it to shut up and Lydia pretended not to be laughing about it. He was totally fine. 

Lydia deftly stitched up the hole in Beary and handed him back. “Now I’m going to shoo you off to the grooming station so you can get Beary all fluffed and puffed and ready for snuggles. Have a wonderful day now!” Her relief was palpable.

Barry fled as soon as Lydia dismissed him, maybe he could skip the grooming, he didn’t really need to do that, surely? Beary seemed fine.

“Over here Sir! I’m Edward and I’m here to help you get your new friend looking their very best.”

Barry couldn’t outrun him, Edward was at least 30 years younger than him and looked like he’d be able to tackle Barry before he could make it three steps. “Okay.” His voice cracked. Maybe this was hell? Barry couldn’t leave, there would always be another step and another smiling assistant to help him.

Edward pointed at a large fake bath which swarmed with children. “You can give your new friend a bath and then we’ll dry them off and get them combed nicely for you.”

“Jeans!” Barry refused, he absolutely refused to pretend to bathe Beary surrounded by children who were no doubt just as sharp of elbow as the first group.

“I’m… I’m sorry Sir?” Edward looked nonplussed, but Barry refused to get suckered into this one. Next they’d tell him he could get custom smells.

“I.. uh, thanks Edward, but Beary’s good, he doesn’t need a bath, see! Super soft. He just needs some jeans please, then I’d like to check out. Thank you very much for your help.” There, he was doing it, Barry was a guy who could say what he wanted.

“Oh, sure, no problem, the clothes are over here!” Edward grinned easily and indicated a towering wall of options. “Have a great day, you can register Beary there when you’re done.” He pointed at a large bank of computer terminals. Of course, of course there were more steps.

“Then I can leave?”

Edward frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“I can pay and go, when I’ve done the computers bit?”

“Yeah?” Edward raised an eyebrow at Barry as if he was being insane, then remembered he wasn’t allowed to do that. “I mean, yes Sir, of course, the tills are just on the other side of the computer terminals.”

Barry grabbed the first denim he saw, shoved Beary into them at speed, tapped Captain Professor Dr. Beary Bluejeans esq.’s details into the computer terminals and finally, finally, smelled freedom. Beary was safely ensconced in his ‘house’ (which Barry was apparently allowed to colour in), Barry was handed a birth certificate, rinsed for more money than he anticipated, and finally allowed to leave. He blinked groggily as he emerged into the daylight. Barry was never ever ever returning to that cursed shop. Even for Lup. He could have sworn he’d lost years of his life wandering around that maze and trying to complete all the stupid tasks.

_________

Barry left the box on the doorstep, rang the bell, and fled. This was how friends delivered gifts, it was fine, in fact, Lup didn’t even have to know it was from him. His phone rang, Lup’s ringtone dragged his hand to his pocket before he’d even thought about it. 

“Hey Barold, what’s in the goth box? I love the paint job, flame decal door is going right onto my Lup’s Dreamhouse wishlist.”

“I… uh.” Said Barry, intelligently.

“I can see you fleeing down the street, wanna turn round, Bluejeans? Not that the view is bad from here. Wink.”

Barry wheezed down the phone, turned, turned back, and debated throwing himself into a bush. If she couldn’t see him she couldn’t tease him, right?

“Okay… You continue rotating, my guy. Lup’s cracking into goth house of wonder to see what you got me.”

“I… I, well, you see… It’s… er.”

“Barold… Barry…” Lup gasped for breath. “Barry, why… why is this bear wearing hot pants?”

“Yes.” Said Barry. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe if he explained? She didn’t understand how much he needed to escape by the trouser selection stage.

“The bear is wearing denim hotpants.”

“They’re blue jeans.”

“My guy, they are blue jorts.”

“He’s called Beary.”

“Beary Bluejorts?” Lup cackled so hard he had to move the phone away from his ear. He moved it back just in time to hear “I love him.”

#Barry's Lup ringtone is Short Skirt Long Jacket by CAKE because she likes the bit about cutting through red tape #Fire regs? No thanks! #TAZ Fic #Prompt game #The Adventure Zone #Blupjeans #Barry Bluejeans #Lup #Lup Tacco #Did the customer service crew start life as the wonder twins? No. But they were terrible and then I what iffed #Noodyl Writes

[anchovies-4-dinner]

Let it Simmer | Yan! Thoma

What if: Every morning there would be a man watching you depart without fail.

Warnings: death, cannibalism, explicit gore (short)

Words: 2k

A/N: If there are any mistakes know that I will probably never fix them 🥴

---

The first time Thoma saw the man it was a random morning waving you off to work; initially he'd mistaken him as another vendor but the frequent glances gave it away. Thoma was no stranger to such attention considering his reputation, but he felt a sort of unease when the the man disappeared as soon as you were out of sight.

From then on it became a sort of habit for Thoma to look for the stranger.

Be it knitting or cooking dinner your fiance would often find himself drawn to the window, observing every change and detail for the familiar hunched figure. Though the 'vendor' came in a range of disguises Thoma was always able to recognise him.

The reasonable assumption was that he was just paparazzi trying to catch any fraying ends in hopes of reviving his own career. Despite this he would hear a nagging voice from the back of his mind; what if it wasn't just paparazzi? Lord knows how many people want Ayato dead and the last thing he wanted was for his innocent fiancé to be cuaght in the crossfire.

As Thoma pondered this he looked outside, numb to the scathing water prickling his skin through the rubber.

The vendor met his eyes for a moment before averting his gaze.

...

The stranger had taken a most opportunistic time; Ayato was undergoing a mission and Ayaka, as diligent as she was, lacked experience in such a situation. Thoma wouldn't want to paint a target on her anyway.

Asking for help from anyone else ran the risk of being backstabbed (who knows how the deep opposition's pockets ran), which left the ever responsible Thoma to deal with it himself.

Right. He'd helped his Lord with many businesses, how hard could this be?

"Good morning Sir, I don't think I've seen you before. Are you perhaps not from around here?"

Disarming the 'vendor' with a smile Thoma descended on the man as soon as the queue ceased. The 'vendor' stumbled over his words, snapping his gaze from Thoma's house in mortification.

"Ah- that'd be correct!" The 'vendor' nervously scratched his neck, trying to adopt a more innocent facade, "I do hope I'm not intruding too much seeing as here was the only spot near the market."

Thoma made sure to soften his smile even though he felt the opposite of endearment, "Not at all! Everyone is welcome in Inazuma, even people who sell knock offs."

The 'vendor' flushed scarlet as Thoma dragged his fingers across a cheap necklace; he took this moment to hum, "What's your name, by the way? I'm Thoma, a sort of fixer around here. Maybe I could even try securing an investment for you-"

"But I couldn't bother you with such things. We hardly know each other, and i doubt any of them would be interested." Now the man was shaking both his head and hands, maybe even in his boots. "I-It's good to start with something small, right? Perhaps you'd be interested in a necklace for your spouse!"

Thoma hummed, "Nice to know you've done your own research, though they are only my fiance currently."

As if realising his blunder, the 'vendor' nodded, hands clenched, "Apologise for the assumption, I would often see you both hanging off each other in town. Now, the necklace?"

Thoma noted the subtle pushiness; perhaps this may be an ordinary tradesman hoping to make it big in a foreign country but Thoma wanted to play it safe. There was a sort of restlessness in the man's eyes, as if he wanted to say something but was weighing the price.

Thoma coaxed it out of him by taking extra time in assessing the jewelries. He could've declined and let it be the end of it seeing as the products were of low quality, but that would hardly yield any results would it?

As the silence dragged on the 'vendor' eventually clapped his hands and decided, "My friend, seeing as you are struggling may I recommend something?"

He no sooner presented a necklace of noticeable quality as if to make the trap ever more enticing. A multitude of possibilities immediately overtook Thoma's mind: a bomb, listening device, vision suppressant, tracker...

"A little charm for the to-be-wedded couple; this jewel is actually a symbol of fortune and luck. Be sure to always wear it for the maximum effect!"

In the end Thoma bought it, but not without haggling the price down of course.

Thoma was by no means a direct threat seeing as his role was minor, and ridding of him may lead to bigger consequences (for one, angering the Kamisato family), meaning it was unlikely to be life threatening seeing as he was better alive and speaking.

That must be it. A listening device was much more useful than a bomb, so Thoma made sure not to say anything incriminating in its presence. You weren't privy to any of the Kamisato's business so he wasn't majorly concerned about you.

All he needed to do was get the proof.

...

The festive atmosphere was hushed in a remote cliff as a figure stood above the meandering crowd, a deep frown etched onto his features.

"You know, you never gave me your name."

The man flinched and turned to face Thoma who casually walked up to him. Despite his open appearance the 'vendor' felt as if he was being backed into the cliff's edge.

Before the 'vendor' could explain himself Thoma beat him to it, "Tell me, did you find anything interesting?"

"Why I have no idea-"

"Really?" Thoma began swinging the necklace on his finger, taking delight in how the 'vendor' recoiled at it's chipped appearance, "Say, why don't you just make this easy for the both of us and spill it already?"

The 'vendor' huffed out a laugh and pointed an accusing finger, "So you did it on purpose to draw me out, spilling water on the necklace to disrupt the listening device and watching me flounder to try and convince you to buy another."

"That's more like it! Though you didn't try at all to hide your intentions." Thoma beamed and grabbed the necklace.

It was a standstill.

Thoma admitted that it was risky confronting the man alone, but with how independently he worked the past month it was safe to say that whoever employed him was willing to throw him under the bus. Though he adopted a relaxed posture, his muscles were tense and thrumming, anticipating the 'vendor's' escape attempt.

A streak of light shot up in the distance. The wind tousled the man's clothes as fireworks exploded behind.

Thoma caught the shine of metal.

...

It was a quiet night home, what with his fiancé exhausted from the festival. Thoma, however, was far from tired.

Unfortunately he remained this way until you had to go to work. In your rush to work you hadn't noticed his sleep deprived state, leaving Thoma to ponder last night's event on the table alone.

It was when he was absentmindedly cleaning the floor that he heard a knock on the door.

"Good morning, Thoma."

"Detective Heizou..."

Thoma stood there for a good minute, thoughts racing until the man invited himself in. His eyes scanned the entirety of the house.

The former housekeeper could only force down his nerves and plaster a smile, "Tea?"

"Well It'd be rude for me to refuse."

With the kettle on the stove, the interrogation commenced:

"Apologies for my abrupt appearance but an interesting case has come to my attention. I have nothing but a few questions to ask of you."

Thoma stared at Heizou's light hearted disposition and tried to mirror it, "Of course, but may I ask about the case?"

"I'm afraid not yet"

Brilliant. Thoma resisted the urge to wipe his palms on his thighs, planting them on the table instead. Each question the detective shot Thoma answered with incredible care and thought, tiptoeing around traps and frequently praying for the end.

And the end did come, just not in the way he would've liked.

"You see, the victim in question was an innocent paparazzi with a single stab through the chest-" A whistle of the kettle pulled Thoma to the kitchen. Heizou continued, "Now, that could obviously be anyone, but what really helped narrow the list down was the handy journal he kept! Seriously, if everyone kept one my job would be ten times easier, but what fun would that be huh?"

"Fun wouldn't be the word I would use to describe your line of work, detective." Thoma's chuckle was regrettably strained. Thankfully his back hid his trembling hand as he poured the water.

"Well, perhaps it was a poor choice of words. I never liked beating around the bush after all." Heizou sniffed as Thoma approached with his tea, "Thoma you are under arrest for suspicion of murder."

It was futile yet Thoma tried arguing back, "On what basis? Do you have any incriminating evidence apart from a few entries?"

"Well, I could start with your unusual body language before I even said anything, or would you rather I talk about the red crusting your cuticles?"

Thoma bit his lip and glanced at his fingers. Of all things to slip from his mind...

The taller man reluctantly bent to place down the tea - only to crunch it into Heizou's face. As soon as Thoma felt the shards dig in pyro erupted from his hand and scorched the skin underneath.

A sharp pain bloomed in Thoma's gut as he was kicked away, winding him for a moment. When he gained his bearings Thoma looked up to see the detective stumble around, grunting when he hit the edge of the table. His mind blanked as he hurriedly snatched the kettle and slammed it into the back of Heizou's head; the already disorientated man crumpled and Thoma took this chance to throw his anemo vision across the room.

Heizou's arm shot up and gripped Thoma's wrist with a bone crushing pressure, but Thoma managed to jerk his own hand into an awkward angle, pouring the piping hot water onto the detective's abdomen. Heizou's mouth tore open from when it was melded together only for the other to strike his chin and send him to the ground.

With blood thumping in his ears, Thoma went to town with the kettle. Dull red speckled his face as the world blurred.

It was only when his arms grew numb that he regained his senses.

"I... Oh God-" Thoma dry heaved as bile bubbled up his throat.

Try as he may, his eyes refused to leave the battered remains of Heizou - shards of the tea cup were so far embedded you could only see the faint white underneath his dark flesh. His nose was disfigured and bent horribly out of shape, along with his mouth sticky from leaking blood. Thoma's mind lagged as he staggered to the bathroom and hunched over the toilet.

Disposing of the body was simple in theory, but Thoma was sure he could execute it perfectly.

...

"Smells nice, pass my compliments to the chef."

Thoma smiled as he felt your arms wrap around him; his knife thudded with each cut of the meat as the soup simmered on the stove. "Why, you doubt my culinary skills?"

"I just can't believe I have my own world class chef at home-" A knock at the door had you patting his stomach like a drum before separating.

The conversation was muffled but Thoma was able to spy the familiar uniforms of the police from the kitchen window. One of the pair caught his eye and offered a lukewarm nod, to which Thoma responded with a brilliant smile of his own.

"Can you believe it? Such crazy people on this island, and during a festival too!"

Thoma mocked concern and hesitantly ate. You on the other hand almost choked from how fast you were devouring.

"But what do you think happened to Heizou? I mean he does disappear often so I honestly don't believe it's of any concern. Did they find his body or something?"

You were obviously joking, even so Thoma swallowed hard on his lump of food. "He's a martial artist so that's highly unlikely."

"I guess you're right... Did I put you off? You don't normally eat this slow."

"I just had too much to eat before." Thoma gave a closed eye smile.

Images came as quick as they went.

"I'm just glad I saved a few mora is all."

#yandere genshin #yandere thoma #gender neutral reader

[scribbling-punk]

Sheltered Dove - 10.

Lena is silent as the news cameras track Supergirl across the skies, her pulse quickening when she realizes that there is only one possible destination for the Girl of Steel.

Supergirl is coming to L-Corp.

She swallows hard and reaches behind the reception desk to slam her palm against the panic button, calling out for her employees to head to the panic rooms as quickly as possible as the alarm wails loudly enough to cause her ears to ring. There is no time for an orderly queue, but she prays they care for each other enough to at least ensure nobody is left behind.

“Miss Luthor?”

Her assistant, Jess, lingers behind, waiting to escort Lena to her private hiding place, but Lena waves her off with a rueful smile.

“She’s coming here to see me,” Lena states, her voice much more measured and calm than she feels. “Go take your place with the others and I’ll be fine.” Jess hesitates, but Lena shakes her head, “Supergirl won’t hurt me, not even like this.” There’s a crash from above as Kara breaks through one of the windows and Lena urgently pushes Jess towards the door, “GO.”

She sucks in a deep breath and hopes she’s right about this, hating the way the breath trembles when she blows it back outwards. Lena waits, her next deep breath held firmly  in her puffed out cheeks, feeling eyes on her from somewhere above, Supergirl clearly stalking her like she is merely prey whilst out of sight—perhaps trying to scare her.

It’s working, but Lena won’t give her the satisfaction of a verbal admission.

The alarm is abruptly cut off with a sickening crack of metal and plastic, the silence almost deafening as it seems to reverberate inside Lena’s ears.

“Come on now, Supergirl, let’s stop screwing around, shall we?” Lena rests her hands on her hips, a shiver trickling down her spine as a cold laugh echoes around the reception and chills her to the bone. “You came here for a reason, so why don’t you come and talk to me?”

“So brave even when your Mommy isn’t here to save you, huh?”

Supergirl lands heavily in front of her, the floor cracking beneath her feet, the grin on her face made even more terrifying by the veins flickering an ominous red.

Read chapter 10 of Sheltered Dove early on Patreon.

Earlier chapters can be found on AO3.

#sheltered dove #kara x lena #lena x cat #mdlg themes #vee polyamory #early access

[shyminmin]

༄𝐁𝐓𝐒 𝐗 𝐟.𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Fantasy, Mermaid AU | ༄𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 3.9k + ༄𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : Dark/Traumatic events

Oh this is familiar.

Lying on the sandy shores of my 'birthplace', cold and wet from the waves, I watched as the same figure above me morphed into the silhouette of an unknown man. My strained vocal cords sounded out my worthless screams as I struggled to move my dead limbs.

The moon in my peripheral, water lapping in the background, he muttered the same gibberish that I failed to comprehend for years on end.

Why was this dream still happening? There was nothing left to look for in my past.

Just like last time, his dark face lowered down to be in line with one of my ears, making me desperate to know what he had to say this time round. Would he talk about something new or repeat the same brief words as before, words that I still had no clue as to what their meaning was or what they were referring to.

"You're so warm... you're almost there," he spoke clear as day, wiping at the rivulets of tears that were running down my face.

"Let the waters guide you... just as Selene guides them..." His silky voice rolled off his tongue in enchanting waves.

"You've been away long enough...It's time to come home.."

Not wanting to make the same mistake as last time, or risk being woken up by the outside world, I forced away my cries and calmed myself.

"What do you mean?" My words came out scratchy and pained. "Please...please tell me!" The last of my pleas strained out in a slight tremble.

Continuing to stroke my cheeks, he cupped them both in his cold, damp hands, locking my gaze to his hidden one. I waited for him to speak, however unsettling silence imbued us as he offered no words of reply. Patience wearing thin, I tried again by firing out more questions.

"My home? You mean in the city, Seoul?"

His head slowly shook from side to side at that, "No sweet thing.."

"Then where, back at one of my foster homes, Mr Yang even?" I cringed at that man's name, hoping with all my heart that that didn't turn out to be the case.

Placing a finger on my lips to quiet me, he sighed.

"You will know in due time... Your body and soul are being drawn towards it as we speak... The pull will only grow stronger..." he uttered musically.

"Don't resist these signs...doing so will only lead to your downfall..."

I processed his vague statements, trying to get a glimpse of the man's face, a nose, mouth, a freckle, anything. However no matter how hard I stared, my dream sadly denied me that request.

He gently combed his fingers through my drenched locks, strangely soothing me in the process as he continued on with his brief sentences.

"Trust your intuition, your instincts... Embrace them with your whole being and you can't go wrong...."

"You're not making any sense, just give me a straight answer," I cut in, having enough of his flowery words.

"As I had hoped, one day you would return back to where you belong, back to where you were meant to be all along if not for past circumstances... Fate has worked out in our favour and has brought you here... here back to the shores where you have fulfilled my previous wishes... Now you have broken your ties and the day for your return has finally come..."

"I will be there.. waiting for our reunion... For I have waited for far too long already..."

"Please come home...The waters need you and you'll need them... They miss you... I miss you..."

"For you are my dear sister."

What?.... I went stiff from shock as I felt the blood draining from my face.

What did he.. W-what did he just say...?

As if on queue, the wind picked up bringing in the tides and a building up of sweeping waves. The turbulent waters caused me to panic as they crashed all around us, threatening to sweep me and the man away. Like my last dream, the current turn of events have never happened or been this drastic before, making me all the more nervous of their outcomes.

"W-what's happening!?" I shouted, me having a hard time hearing myself over the now hurricane like weather. A flow of adrenaline coursed through my veins and like some miracle I could now move my body. Wasting little time, I clutched onto the male's shoulders, not wanting to get blown away.

Buckets of rain started to pour down and soak our already drenched forms while seawater was splashing us from all angles.

A crash of lightning and thunder boomed around the once calm beach, briefly lighting up the whole shoreline in a blinding, white flash. Gusts of wind coming dangerously close to sweeping me up into the dark stormy skies. Scared for my life at this point and forgetting that I was dreaming, I cried out in terror, burying my face in the man's neck.... No... My sibling's neck....

"Brother!" I screamed, my body shaking like a leaf as I gripped onto him for dear life, refusing to let go. "Brother!"

I felt him circle his arms around me, rubbing my back and shushing me as I tried to block out the storm we were caught in.

"Brother, don't leave me!" I balled out, body shivering from fright.

"I won't! I'll never leave you again!" He voiced, embracing me fully. "Just come home! Come back home to me!"

I caught a blur of dark blue over his shoulder and sharpened my sight. Gulping, I naturally started to pull us back as we were right in the path of what looked to be a massive 10ft wave. It towered over the others, clearing and destroying everything it touched. "We have to move! We're going to drown!" Trying to make him budge, the wave only encroached on us further, taunting us with its sheer magnitude.

Like a rock, my brother remained in place, not moving a muscle as he continued to hold me. Panicking, I tugged on his body harder, digging my heels into the wet sand in order to gain some sort of momentum. "Hey, come on! We need to get away from the shore!" I shook him when dragging him failed. "Why aren't you moving!?"

He pushed against the back of my head making me further bury my face into his neck. "You need to come home, back to your real home!" He shouted, when I felt him moving us both backwards in the direction towards the hazardous surf that housed the dangerous wave.

"Are you insane!?" I struggled to free myself from his grasp and pull us both back, him as a result tightening his hold on me.

"Trust the waters, let them guide you!" He repeated his previous riddled words.

Something long and powerful broke the water's surface right next to us, shiny dark scales catching my eye. The strange limb however vanished back below the tides as quickly as it revealed itself.

Was that a fish tail? Are there predators about? Something that big can't be friendly!

"Please, we aren't safe here!" I cried, tears rushing out of my eyes a second time, worried for both our lives, not wanting to lose the one family member I had just discovered.

"Brother I'm s-scared!"

With my keening outburst, he was quick to reassure me with his secure embrace and calming hums, doing everything he possibly could to shield me from this harsh weather.

"Don't be, you're safe...Trust me...Trust your instincts, let the waters guide you....."

"Let them change you...."

Just as he spoke those last words, a heavy wall of water and salt crashed upon us head on, knocking me off my feet as water now fully encompassed us both. Dragging me under, I tried to swim up to the surface and breach the salty swells for air; however the current was just too strong, even an Olympic athlete wouldn't have a chance against these extremes. I had lost sight of the shadowy figure that was of my sibling and I couldn't call out to him as I needed to conserve my oxygen.

I continued with all my might to swim against the strong waters as they relentlessly tossed me around like I weighed nothing. The loss of my brother's company and stability caused me to become all the more terrified as I was now alone in this horrific situation.

When I was sure he was gone for good one last form of comfort from him miraculously reached me.

"Dear sister," his melodic voice erupted through my head as I succumbed to the dark raging waters. "I'll be waiting..."

"I love you..." the smoothness of his voice fading out, dispersed and vanishing into the violent ocean swells.

No! Don't go! Please!

Losing all reasoning, I opened my mouth, letting out one last final scream in anguish. Bubbles of air floating and rising above me as the last remnants of oxygen left my lungs to be replaced with chilling seawater.

No, please...

"Brother!" Startling awake, I shot up from my sleeping position, clutching at the front of my pajama shirt, breathing in sharp, ragged breaths.

Realising I was in my room at the inn and not in the water drowning, I let out a relieved sigh, calming my trembling form. Sweat coated my skin making my clothing stick to it disgustingly as I fanned myself off with my top.

I'd never had a dream that was so vivid...so real...

"What even.." I mumbled wiping my forehead and ridding my eyes of a few stray tears. I toss my messy hair over my shoulders still feeling the phantom sensation of the man's fingers combing through it.

Why did he say I was his sister?

I racked my brain for answers, wondering if it was just an effect of my dream or if it was in fact elaborating on my past telling me that I had a real blood sibling.

"Why did he keep talking about the water, the ocean? About trusting it?"

He made us both get sucked up into the waves like it was nothing. He let me drown... He left me..

Shivering at that thought and everything I went through in my dream, I stood up and walked over to the one window of my room and opened it to let in some much needed fresh air. A salty breeze blew over me as I looked upon the beach in front of me, the sight of the waves causing me to become a little on edge.

God why am I so thirsty?

Downing my second bottle of water in the span of 3 minutes, I leaned back in my seat at one of the tables of the 'Seaside Chow' cafe. Temporarily quenching my thirst, I felt the inside of my throat ever so slowly drying up again like I hadn't just gulped down a good litre or so of liquid. No, instead it gave me the feeling that I haven't seen a single drop of water in weeks, years even.

This weird dehydrated state I found myself in, spouted out of nowhere an hour or so after I had woken up from my intense dream. Knowing this place would most definitely have a plentiful supply of water, I hightailed it to here, wanting to get hydrated asap. Liquid hydrogen and oxygen had never tasted so good.

I didn't care if I ran into the man who had that weird obsession with my feet yesterday, all I wanted was water... and more water. Grabbing a fresh bottle out of the cafe's drink fridge, I shyly handed the cashier another dollar bill. The older woman on shift looked at me skeptically and eyed my table where two already empty bottles were sprawled on top of.

"You alright miss? This is your third one in such a short amount of time," She asked, taking my money and depositing it into the shop's till. "You sure you're feeling ok?"

"Ah y-yeah.." was all I could say as I sheepishly returned to my seat, practically skulling the whole thing down in one go. My stomach felt bloated, being filled with so much liquid now.

Thinking I may as well order some food while I was here, I opened the menu, scanning the options. Amongst me looking under the lunch section seeing as it was getting close to that time, one of the waitresses walked past me carrying another table's dish, the contents making my tastebuds salivate at the smell alone. Wondering what smelled so appetizing, I looked their way, thinking I could order and try the mystery dish.

A large plate was set onto a table occupied by an elderly man, in it sat a side of plain greens with the centerpiece being two fillets of some type of fish.

That can't be right, I hate seafood, loath it. Fish being on the same level as oysters. What the hell?

Looking back I came to the conclusion that perhaps my dehydration had mucked with my sense of smell, if that was even a thing? A lot of strange things have happened since coming to this town, why was I still surprised at this point?

Deciding instead on a decent salad wrap free of any kind of seafood, I had set down yet another water bottle onto the counter for good measure, a now quite concerned cashier accepting my change and giving me worried stares. Not wanting to have lingering eyes on me for that sake, as soon as they handed me my food order, I dashed out the door, finding myself on the town's main street.

It wasn't as hot as the last couple of days so hopefully I wouldn't get too thirsty again because of the heat. Traumatized from the no-name man's actions from yesterday, I was too creeped out to even think about retrieving my shoes and socks that he had thrown all over the place. No, I was too focused on getting away from him to even care about them. Luckily I packed another pair, my only other at that, I wasn't made of money.

I wore those now, regardless of their poor quality they safely hide my hideous feet from sight as I traipse around the quiet town, taking in the old architecture while nibbling my food. I wasn't too fond of wandering down to the beach again, not after that whole foot ordeal and especially not after my concerning dream turned nightmare.

I couldn't help it when the man with the hat decided to invade my thoughts like he had so easily managed to do quite often lately.

There was a lingering sense of genuinity about him, with the way he interrogated me, demanding answers. Nothing but serious and passionate. Very similar to Yang Chinhae's outbursts. There was not an ounce of hesitation in belief but utter honesty in both their accusatory words, making me once again rethink that they both were in fact referring to nothing but the truth.

Two distinct things spoken about that linked the separate encounters, the unique state of my feet and the unsettling way they both mentioned the waters of the sea.

My recent dream being filled with nothing but the perilous ocean and its depths.

There's definitely a connection.

Something blindingly obvious if only I connect the dots.

The sea, the ocean shores...

Yang claimed I came from them, the mystery man wanted to drag me into them to prove some point... My 'brother' implored me to trust them in some way...

Home.. He wanted me to go back home, back to my real one... Back home to him where he was waiting. The talk of the waves and him pulling me with him into them like they were his backyard. The cat eyed man asking why I was on land...

Water, the sea, home...

Scarred feet...

When I didn't speak, the man turned to them and revealed the red uneven skin...Mr Yang claiming I wasn't human because of them.. That he had seen me shed scales... scales...

That long appendage that was covered in dark fish scales amongst the chaos in my dream... How it was so close to the figure of my 'brother'... Others that night... the night where I was abandoned on the shore... others that Yang claimed to be sea monsters... calling me a fish freak. My 'brother' on those shores with me in my dream...

He was one of them..

Was he the one who abandoned me that night? Why would my own brother do that!? He was so caring in my memory dreams.

My kind... scarred feet... not human...scales..

Mystery man saying his feet were the same.. Fishtail near my 'brother' and him not being afraid of the stormy waters.

'Follow the feeling', 'one touch', he had spoken before... The strange aura the man with the hat exuded... how it affected me, how he made me feel...when our skin had touched and I practically fainted... him asking what I was... him suddenly obsessed with my feet...

Everything was scarily pointing in one direction, one stupidly, unrealistic direction. However it all flowed into one another perfectly.

Water.. sea...home...odd feet... scales..

I didn't want to say what I was concluding in the chance I was turning completely insane.

I couldn't be a... a Mer-

My thoughts and deductions were diverted when I let out a loud cough. Rubbing the front of my neck I realised my throat had once again turned dry and scratchy from lack of water. I quickly undid the cap of my fourth bottle, taking a big sip and relishing in the cold liquid running down my throat, soothing the insides.

What's wrong with me? At this rate I'll have to go back and buy out the shop's whole water supply.

She's going to get herself killed!

Frustrated, the merman skimmed his pale hands through his dark, inky locks, tugging at the ends in minor stress as they fell back in front of his eyes.

"She's gonna get withdrawals," He groaned displeasedly, annoyed that he cared.

He felt 'The Elixir's' effects on her break as soon as he had touched that soft skin of her's. The surge of energy that had run through her was all too familiar to him as he was exposed to the workings of spells and mer magic on a day to day basis as his practice allowed it. How she had acquired something that was so rare and hard to concoct in the first place was beyond him.

That specific energy signature that erupted through her was from a potion plainly known as 'The Elixir'. Something that was forbidden – amongst other things – to be created and used by merfolk as it gave them the ability to grow legs and essentially become human.

Ordinarily, the Mer don't possess metamorphic capabilities. If they were to drag themselves onto land normally without magical intervention, then they would essentially become beached whales, landlocked and unable to move easily from the limitations of their tails. No legs would conveniently appear like most human stories emphasised.

The longer they would be out of their watery home, the more they would deteriorate.

Withdrawal symptoms..

Without seawater exposure, their tails and skin would dry up, becoming extremely dehydrated and they'll struggle to breathe. Fatigue would plague them and their limbs and organs would cease to function. Death would inevitably follow.

The most one could be out of water varied from mer to mer. The average being around 1-2 days.

What's more, one of the reasons for the ban of the potion was the controversial means in which it was produced. The base ingredient being human blood.

Contact with humans ceased after the time when conventional pirates still roamed the waters, the merfolk choosing to cut off all ties with them causing the belief of their kind to be nothing more than fictitious nonsense. Only outcasts or rogues would even think about going to the surface to potentially encounter a human. Whoever was snuffling them out for their blood was cause for concern.

Blood magic is one branch where intentions were not in everyone's best interest. He would know since he's delved into the art on occasion in the past.

That girl didn't look malevolent, heck she was utterly clueless. As confirmed, she clearly doesn't know what she truly is or that she even took 'The Elixir' in the first place. Someone else must have obtained it and forced it down her throat. But why?

If her unique aura or the effects of the potion weren't already indicators of her true self, then the appearance of her feet certainly confirmed his assumption. Especially when they were identical to his own when he was in his human form. Even when Mer are miraculously able to gain human limbs, the unique state of their feet will always be a reminder of what they are, beings that belong to the sea.

"Y/n hey.." he muttered to himself, thinking of the small, stuttering woman. "Just what is your story?"

Ruminating as he swam in circles around his underwater cave, he came to the conclusion that he couldn't just let everything slide. He needed to step in before things turned ugly. Too bad he needed more time to rest before he even attempted to transform again, he had already stretched his abilities enough as it is these past few days.

Hopefully Y/n could hold on a little longer. By the way she acted it was going to take some major convincing for her to get through her inevitable transformation smoothly. However, if in the end he had to forcefully drag her into the water like he had threatened her last time, then so be it. Her very life was at stake if he didn't.

Boy was she gonna get the shock of her life.

"Tch... Why do I even give a shit about what happens to her!?"

Being a solitary mer, he doesn't come across a lot of other merfolk in general, only a handful of individuals gained the privilege of earning his full trust and support. So why is it then that he has this incentive to give a damn about a random female posing as a human.

Living alone and tribeless was partly due to him not liking company and refusing any form of social attachment he deemed unnecessary. He didn't see a point to go through all that effort. The other reason being well...

Let's just say that the general population of merfolk don't take too kindly to associating with a merperson of his nature and practice.

The prejudice against him and others like him caused them to have to keep their distance and limit interaction with any of the mer tribes when they didn't have to. This was out of fear and hate as many past mer like him were known to be nothing but dangerous and sinister. Having magic in their blood, they held a kind of superior power, able to do other things that normal mer couldn't, many succumbing to the efficacy of their abilities for their own selfish gain.

With all this being said it was only natural that 'normal' merfolk assumed that everyone of his kind had ill intentions.

Sighing, he only hoped that they could get to Y/n in time, to the female human who was in fact a mermaid all along.

| 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 | ༄⋆

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts hoseok #bts jimin #bts jungkook #bts namjoon #bts seokjin #bts taehyung #bts x reader #crescent tides #bts ff #bts yoongi #bts au fic #bts fantasy au #bts fanfction #bts au #crescent tides chapter 7 #bts min yoongi #bts park jimin #bts mermaid au #bts au fanfic #bts fandom

[2braincellslz]

can we get a list of the queue and the requests 🤭

YES, OFCOURSE!

This is in no particular order and the names arnt set in stone <3

Also, not all of these are requested.

Some of the ones from my last list have been scrapped. If you were looking forward to one and it isnt listed here, send in a Request or DM me and I'll do it :]

Carry a Kit, Now:

Steve Harrington x Fem!reader: after a major fight with the Demagorgan, YN and Steve fix up eachother wounds. Fluff, soft, comfort.

Your In Love With Who?:

Eddie Brock x Venom (cope). Eddie is trying to explain to Annie his complicated relationship with Venom to witch, Annie dose not understand but supports. The only problem is Venom keeps interrupting Eddie. Fluff(?), comedy.

Better Late Then Never:

Billy hargrove x male!reader. YN is on vacation in Cali (he wanted to bring Billy but Neil wouldn't let him) and he was still on vacation on Billy's birthday. Once YN gets back they share a very soft moment togather. Fluff; it's just really cute.

Maybe Just Handshake:

Jschlatt & fem!reader. Schlatt and YN hang out all the time. They run in to eachother at Wilburs New Years party. Wilbur practically dragged Schlatt here and then left him. Yn also wasnt having a great time. They get up to some trouble and just shake hands on new years countdown.

HANDS OFF, SHITLIPS:

Max x YN and Billy x fem!YN. (MAX AND BILLY FIGHT OVER YN. GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF THE GUTTER) Max and Billy fall for the same girl and fight over her.

Date Night:

Cc!Punz x Cc! Foolish x Masc!yn. Yall go out for a nightly drive, go to a comedy show, and then lose Foolish.

Sh, Sleep...:

Dad!schlatt & kid!masc!reader. Yn is having a hard time sleeping. He asks his dad, schlatt, if he can stay the night with him. Schlatt, being the good dad he his, comforts his son.

Where Love Is:

Jason Vorhees x Masc!reader. Jason has been suffering in silence recently. He worrys that you are with him out of pity or something. You help him feel better.

Love Like Ink:

Eddie Munson x Male!reader. Yn and eddie really want to get matching tattoos. They finally decided to combine their two favorite bands and tattoo eachother.

Listen To Me:

Bucky Barns x male!YN. Yn lost his voice on one of the missions with the avengers in a rather traumatic experience. He ans his Boyfriend, Bucky, work togather to help eachother move forward until one night when Bucky wake up from a nightmare.

My Eyes, Not His:

Billy Hargrove x Fem!reader. Neil is in jail. Thank God. And now YN and Billy are working togather to heal Billy's trauma.

Skipping to Avoid Him:

Billy hargrove x Fem!reader. Billy has been picking on YN for quite some time but one day YN dosnt show up to school. Billy takes it apon himself to find out why.

Because I Promised:

Cc!Schlatt & teen!masc!reader. Schlatt joined the DSMP because he made a promise to his best friend, Wilbur. Yn joined the DSMP because he made a promise to his best friend Tommy.

No More Demons:

Steve Harrington x fem!reader. Yn and Steve have always been the parents of the friend group, more or less against their own will. Now, that everything has settled down they have to deal with the consequences of taking on all that stress.

Skip To My Loue:

Eddie Munson x GN!southern!Reader. Eddie admits to his partner that he really doesn't know how to dance. Well, good thing his partner dose.

All is Fair in Love and Politics:

Wilbur soot & Jschlatt. Wilbur comes back to Manburg, throwing his pride out the window, the beg Schlatt to let Tommy back in to Manburg. Schlatt takes pitty on his old friend .

#stranger things s3 #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x male reader #billy hargrove x male!reader #cc!schlatt #wip list #steve harrington #steve Harrington x yn #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #sweaterduo #venom movie #venom x eddie #eddie x venom #eddie munson x female reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson st #eddie munson #billy stranger things #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x male yn #dad!schlatt #fluff #jason vorhees imagine #jason vorhees x you #jason vorhees #my plant is named Jason Vorhees #dsmp foolish #punz fanfic

[dubiousduckears]

Some of you may have noticed that it's been radio silence on my blog since Thursday night. I let my queue run out because I expected to be doing a lot of posting and squeeing over the new season. Obviously, that didn't happen. After all the hype, suspense and excitement building for literal years, what we got was such a disappointment. Not even talking about the ending so much as the entire vibe was different and wrong. I mean, it was funny but it didn't feel like Good Omens. It felt like a live action fanfic, but not a good one and definitely not one that you want for your actual canon. All the things I did like were mingled in with the things that rubbed me wrong. I don't hate it but it's still a huge let down.

So getting back to my usual tumblr life where it's all everyone can talk about and a lot of you will be raving about the aspects that left me cold hasn't been very attractive. I've glanced in a few times but just wasn't ready to wade back in. I'm not feeling the lovefest and, while a bit of complaining is good for the spleen, I don't wanna make a new home in the salt mines either. It's gonna take a little time to find my footing again, so this blog is gonna be a bit less active than you're used to for a while. I'm not giving up on GO, it's just hard to engage right now.

In other news, my time away hasn't been entirely spent sulking and drowning my sorrows in fanfic. I started that photography blog I've been toying with for a while. There's not a lot posted yet, but I've queued it well into September with 100 more posts drafted. Posts per day will undoubtedly go up when I get a better feel for how much work it is to keep up.

#not gonna tag this Good Omens cause it's a little more personal than public #no spoilers #the plan is to do one rant post to purge the worst and then move on #I'll probably ignore a lot of the serious posts about the season and just stick to the ones that are funny or pretty #and otherwise just post about season 1 #I'll start back with the queue maybe tomorrow

[incarnateirony]

buddy if you make a post that's j2m, team free dads, christmas and die hard, and tag every conceivable show tag, alt show tag, family tag, team tag, character tag, actor tag and whatever tf else, and if after 12 hours you only got 6 notes? catch a clue. Because this is just the start.

We're not going to let this fandom forget that you (teamfreewill2pointo) were working with a reddit troll (snotrag) to fucking doxx people in revenge.

We're not going to forget that your "sources" are violent antis (mostly xmiamigal/suzanne, but gayled_it is complicit), just fans, spinning M&Gs, then threatening to physically cut people or being drunk at a con while violating their NDAs

We're not going to forget you got caught lying about your M&Gs and tried to retaliate when you were caught, just like your doxxing

we're not going to forget that you've mistakenly targeted not just your last doxxing victim, but tried to blame a heller for the M&G leak,

also mistargeted Winchester Hub so wigglebox could profit and shepherd you users via Winchester Updates you sent them to

You also mixed up SomethingToSay and in your obsession with screaming about patreons, just. Randomly started dragging TheySilencedYou.

We're not going to forget that Superwiki leaked but lied alongside you and/or maintained silence only then to incite harassment.

We're not going to forget that lets-forge-an-archive got on your anti-mythos-meta cult screaming and followed your shifting dialogue the whole way of why you called it that.

We're not going to forget that wigglebox stalked jensen, helped you lie about scamming people out of 5K.

We're not going to forget that the entire spnscripthunt account is complicit in this, not just passively, but as a targeted hate and misinformation campaign against fans.

we're not going to forget your tens of thousands in scamming.

I think I'm just. Gonna leave my post pinned. Forever. Until I feel compelled to make a newer copy. Honestly I might suggest some folks queue said pinned post. A lot. You don't fuck with my friends. You don't doxx my people. You don't threaten harm on my family.

#spn #supernatural #spnwin #the winchesters #your tech consultant is leaky af #and involved in hate campaigns against fans #anti antis #scam alert #misinformation #doxxing #spnfamily #spnfam