#I have tried every urge not to mix my special interest with my returning on and yet here we are

[artscheese]

Been in a big gravity falls brainrot lately and I’m currently rewatching the series 👀

[astaroth1357]

The Brothers Dropping Hints to a Remarkably Oblivious MC

I liked this idea and wanted to flesh it out a bit before I bury my head in research for requests. Maybe I'll make a part two later? Who knows.

Intro:

Seven demon brothers, one human. All seven want their attention… So the family agrees to a challenge: Can they get their human to return their affections without actually confessing first? Perhaps… but there's a catch. The MC is denser than a bag of bricks in the love department...

Good luck, boys.

Lucifer

If it weren't for this silly challenge, he'd have considered hiring a sky-writer because he couldn't think of anything more obvious and unavoidable than that…

It honestly astounded him how utterly unaffected the MC seems to be by all of his flirtations. It'd be impressive if it weren't so frustrating.

He could praise their appearance and they'd seemingly forget the compliment.

He could offer them all manner of gifts or meals and they'd think he was just being nice.

He could probably straight up give them a diamond ring and they'd assume it was a late birthday present… 

He was so out of ideas he was considering just ripping off the bandage and asking them directly, brothers be damned, but then that'd be admitting defeat and that’s just not on the table for him.

No, no… He just had to be more patient… Maybe offer them a dance next time? He'll win this challenge yet... maybe…

Mammon

Of course the Great Mammon can get his human to notice his feelings! He's their first man, he knows them more than anybody else! This will be a piece of cake. Right?... right…??

It is not. It is not a piece of cake.

First off, Mammon's already shot himself in the foot because of his tsundere-ness. Turns out when he says, "It's not because I like you!" they actually believe him… 😰

Secondly, he's terrible at expressing his affection in ways that aren't material or possessive...

When he buys them things, they think he's acting sweet and just… pay him back or buy him something in return…

Like, he's not complaining (much) but that's not the point!!

Then when he tries to spend extra time with them they assume it's Mammon being Mammon and not, like, because he's trying to show them how crazy he is about them.

And now he can’t even be honest about his feelings if he wants to because of the damn challenge!! 😫

This seemed like a lost cause for him really… Looks like someone else is going to have to win…

Leviathan

He's been cursing their name to here and back for stealing his heart so thoroughly while still having no idea that they actually had it!!! He'd almost swear they were mocking him but eventually, he genuinely started to think they were just that clueless… 🤦‍♀️

At first he thought that he found a loophole because he could just act out a bunch of obvious anime tropes to not-so-subtly hint at his affections!

...but each time he tried to make a move, he lost his nerve and chickened out at the last minute…

"MC! I just bought some pocky off of Akuzon, do you want to try some?"

"Sure, Levi! 🙂"

"Oh u-uh… Great! H-here you go.. " *hands them the whole box...*

When these efforts failed, he went to plan B, which was again not-so-subtly throwing hints at how special they were to him.

"Hey MC, do you remember that game you were looking at? I got it for us! Come on, let's play together! I'll even let you use my favorite controller!"

"MC, why don't you sit over here? W-wait not that close…! No wait, don’t go!! Urgh!! 😫"

At first he thought it was working until he overheard them talking to Mammon, "Mm? Oh, of course Levi's been so nice to me! We're best friends!"

… Ouch, but not unwarranted. He'd have to try something else or just admit defeat…

Satan

He still truly can't get a good read on them. Are they interested? Just nice? A chronic sufferer of selective blindness?? What does he have to do here???

Satan took a page out of Levi's playbook at first, but replaced anime tropes with what you find in old romance novels.

He was on his best behavior whenever MC was around. Downright gentlemanly, right down to kissing their hand and putting his jacket over puddles for them to walk.

… Unfortunately, Lucifer refused to be outshined by his little brother in the princely courtship department and the two started butting heads (almost literally).

If Satan gave up his jacket for a puddle, then Lucifer would take their hand to "help" them across it. If Satan held a door for them, then Lucifer would hold it too and insist that he go in first. If the MC was cold they suddenly were covered by two coats… It was infuriating!

And you know what's even worse? It was counterproductive.

After a while the MC just thought that it was some kind of game or challenge between him and Lucifer and not him trying to express his actual affections…

Looks like he wasn't going to be winning this either…

Asmodeus 

On one hand, he kind of gets it because he's lovey and feely with everybody but, sweetheart, please take a hint every once in a while…

Asmo comes into the game with both an advantage and disadvantage. He's far more versed in the art of wooing than any of his brothers, but he was so close with them to begin with it's going to take a lot to get the point across…

Confident boi starts inviting them out more, lunch "dates," spa days, shopping sprees, any excuse to be alone with them really hoping they'd get the idea…

...but they didn't. It was just some fun time with Asmo and not any particular special treatment…

His compliments all seemed to bounce off of them too. They never seemed particularly touched and he wouldn't be surprised if they forgot about them within five minutes of hearing them…

Kicking it up to drastic measures, he tries to initiate even more cuddles and hugs than usual… But it feels like he could literally sew himself to their clothes and they'd think he's just being friendly! How do they not see what's going on here, are they just messing with him??

After a week of trying to monopolize the MC's time he had to throw in the towel, certain if he couldn't get through to them then no one could! 😣

Beelzebub 

Well, Beel's a little oblivious himself sometimes so it's not like he couldn't relate… He just wished he could be upfront and ask them because they really didn't seem to notice.

Chances are he was already cuddling with them, sharing his food, taking them places, and doing all the stuff he'd usually do when he likes a person... They probably just considered that to be his normal behavior by that point…

So. He just does what he normally does, but MORE.

Suddenly he's giving the MC half of his meals instead of a third. (Which is what? Enough for a family of four?)

His hugs have gone from just firm to full on bear-snuggles.

He's always offering to take them to a new restaurant or some other place he likes and showing them the best things on the menu (written or hidden).

But it's not exactly going anywhere… 😥

They seemed happy and liked spending time with him but if they were actually noticing feelings for them at all, he couldn't tell…

After a while he kind of gives up on getting them to notice and just starts to enjoy making them happy. Sure, he won't win the challenge, but for now a smiling MC is enough for him 😊

Belphegor 

Look. He may be the King of Mixed Signals, but he's considering just giving up his crown but nothing he's tried has been working...

Similar to Mammon, he’s starting at a disadvantage by regularly being more than a little cryptic about his feelings…

To be honest, it was sort of a reflex for him by this point which didn’t help matters at all. He’s not that used to being completely open with his emotions so he has to fight the urge to downplay things all the time...

Oh, the MC agreed to go with him to the botanical gardens? Cool.

Wait, no, not just cool. It’s great! Really great!! He’s really happy about it, MC, can you see his smile?? He’s smiling! That’s rare! Please notice!!

(They don’t seem to notice…)

Eventually he got even more frustrated than Satan or Mammon and nearly just asked them point blank, but he knew his brothers would flip if he tried…

By the end of the challenge he thought it was a dumb, stupid waste of time and energy and he regrets ever agreeing to it (and he’s not just being pissy because he couldn’t pull it off or anything......)

Bonus: 

After a couple weeks of zero progress for everybody, the brothers seemed to snap. The MC woke up one morning for breakfast only to find their seven demons waiting intently for them to walk into the dining room. What followed was a cartoon squabble of kicked up dust, flying limbs, and thrown objects as each desperately tried to climb over the other in order to get to their human first (even Lucifer nearly flung Satan across the table by the foot at one point). Poor MC was so confused that they had to shout at them just to break up the fighting…

When asked what's gotten into their demons so suddenly, the brothers have only one response:

"WE LOVE YOU!!!" 

…. Eh? 

*MC.exe has crashed*

Back to square one, guys...

[softomi]

i like you so matcha

prompt: is it really a rivals to lovers if one likes the other?

pairing: osamu x reader

word count: 3.2k

general taglist: @graykageyama @tsumue @thesorebae @micasaessakusa @alouphen

Osamu wasn’t one to worry about competition; he had heard of the new café just a few stores down from his own restaurant and while he believed that the grand opening was nothing more than large interest, the hype reached his own workers. While he prides himself on providing a menu that is cost efficient and perfect for anyone; his workers seem to think that the new café combined low cost with high quality and aesthetics.

Again, Osamu wasn’t that interested in the new place until through the grapevine he heard they were selling onigiri. It wasn’t just any onigiri, apparently their take involved changing the color of the rice to add an artistic component. They were even going as far as shaping the onigiri into novelty orientations, one of his workers showcased the hello kitty onigiri.

Once more, Osamu tried to reason that it wasn’t interesting but he can’t help the sudden tick of his forehead when his brother walks right passed the windows of his restaurant only to emerge thirty minutes later with a to-go box of rainbow colored onigiri. It irked him even more when Atsumu had the audacity to sit at the counter and eat the onigiris with such happiness.

“Hey Samu, you think you could make some of these.” Osamu takes the box, promptly throwing it into the trash, eliciting a whine from Atsumu who declares that now he must wait another twenty minutes in line for more.

Osamu finds himself waiting in line with his brother. Atsumu cries that his stomach is hungry, but Osamu keeps his attention to how long the line is; it didn’t wrap around the block but it was fairly long enough to understand that the place was popular. The glow of the neon blue sign is just barely evident under the sun, but it must appear better under night conditions.

When he looks inside, he sees pristine white tables that balance with the brightly colored food; the chairs looked to have comfortable padding, some decorated with different colored pillows. There were mirrors displayed along the walls, one moon shaped, one stars, one of the sun, he takes it to understand that this was probably a theme of the café.

“We’re almost to the front!” Atsumu’s stomach growls the closer they get.

Osamu notices there’s decorative fairy lights along the window looking out into the street, the windowsill is large and he thinks it’s a good idea when he sees some customers using the space as a seating area. There’s a chalkboard used to display the menu behind the workers at the counter and even a small one at the cash register that lists the specials of the day.

Even as they find a seat, Osamu’s eyes are staring at the ceiling, how aesthetic, he thinks, there’s even a mirror above where they sat. He observes the customers, most are women but here and there are a few men; some with their lovers, some just here for the food. He can conclude that most of the hype of the place is from the aesthetic alone. It’s the perfect place for a photo opportunity with how decorated everything is.

“Order for Miya!”

Atsumu practically sprints to the counter and back. When Osamu tries to touch the food, Atsumu slaps his hand, “Wait! Let me take a picture!”

Osamu rolls his eyes; his brother has fallen into the trap that is the café. Atsumu takes five minutes to capture every angle that he can, even utilizing the ceiling mirror to get a picture of him and his brother with the food. Osamu takes note of Atsumu’s drink, clear plastic with a secure top; it allows you to see the different layers of the coffee but he knows once Atsumu mixes the drink it’ll turn green for the matcha flavor.

“Look!” Atsumu is shoving the cup in Osamu’s face, “There’s a design on the cup!” Atsumu’s eyes sparkle at the cute print of a Pokémon character, “That means I was one of the first hundred customers of the day.”

At this point, Osamu wants to applaud the aesthetic of the restaurant. Even taking the time to print on designs for customers as a novelty item to which they could boost about on social media, Osamu is impressed. But he reasons that the aesthetic of the place must hold to a high standard with the food.

So when he takes one of the onigiri’s, he’s ready to critique the flavor.

“Are you enjoying your meal?”

When Osamu looks up after taking a bite, the rice flows down the wrong pipe; he coughs loudly, wheezing at the way the salted salmon is a lump in his throat. Atsumu gives up his drink for his brother and Osamu nearly falls in love with the sweet taste of the matcha coffee.

“Are you alright?” Your hand is pressed on his shoulder, it moved from when you had been lightly hitting his back to help.

Osamu’s cough dies down as he watched you move to the counter; the workers listening intently to your words before nodding off.

“I’m sorry.” Osamu coughs for a last time as you approach the table.

Your hands are on your hips, a grin pressed neatly on your lips as you hold out a hand, “It’s my fault, I must have surprised you coming over all of a sudden. I’m the owner and you run Onigiri Miya don’t you?” Osamu feels sweat beat down the side of his face when he reaches out to grasp your hands, “I’m a big fan, you have great flavors, I can only hope that ours matches yours.”

Your attention turns to his twin, Atsumu gladly takes your attention, this gives Osamu time to collect himself. Osamu discoveries himself staring at you, you radiated a type of energy, one that he feels matches his own when it comes to running a business. The smile on your face makes him flush slightly and his palms remain sweaty from when he held your hand.

“It’s an honor to have a professional volleyball player eat at our establishment. We hope to see us on your social media page. One of my workers will bring over a free drink for the inconvenience.” Your head lowers in courtesy, waving to the men to continue their dining experience, “Oh and Mister Onigiri Miya, I’d love to bounce some ideas off you, I think we’d work great as partners for a few projects.”

Business partners was the last thing Osamu was going to agree to now that he had been up and close with the café; it’s been deemed a threat. It irked him when he saw you, a smile on your face as you wave to him early in the morning. His business seemed to always open and end with you, that’s how he discovered that even your hours of operation were the same as his.

It annoyed him when you visited, a large cup of matcha coffee in your hand as you offer it to him during the middle of lunch rush. It’s sweet when he drinks it, but he tries not to like it too much and he even tries to repress the craving for it on days when you don’t visit his shop. He even holds back the urge to visit the café when he really wants some matcha coffee.

He also finds it absolutely annoying how the parking spaces in front of his restaurant are always blocked by your customers. One time he stormed into your café, the workers were no stranger to his complaints. He’s automatically walking to your office in the back. When he can’t find you, he discovers you in a hidden kitchen meant for creative purposes.

“Oh, Miya Osamu. What can I do for you?” There’s rice on your cheek, your apron dirtied with minced ingredients, you wipe your hands on the ends of your apron to leave streaks of flour.

Osamu pushes aside the thought that he finds your hair pulled up cute, his hands on his waist as he puffs out his chest, “You need to do something about the parking situation! Your customers are parking in spots specifically meant for Onigiri Miya!”

You laugh, the back of your hand wiping against your cheek to remove the rice, “No problem! I’ll just put up signs on parking. Good?”

Osamu’s eyes twitch, the rice on your cheek is still stuck there and you can’t seem to find just where it is. He takes a step forward, fingers reaching out to graze the speck of rice and flick it off into another direction. You’re grinning.

“Thanks, did you want some coffee?” Your hand is already preparing a cup, pushing buttons on a machine as it spews out coffee, “I’m trying out some matcha and chocolate fusion drinks. I think I just figured out the perfect balance. Taste test?” You hold out the cup to him.

It’s sweet, just a perfect blend; absolutely beautiful. Osamu ends up taking the drink back to his restaurant, eyes staring at the cup with doodles of hearts and stars.

The next day, Osamu barges into your office stating that the music from your café is too loud, even though he’s three stores down, and none of his workers could hear anything but he’s insisted that the music is too distracting. He returns once more with a complimentary drink and a lighter mood than before.

“Isn’t he being too demanding?” One of your workers watches Osamu peer into the shop.

You’re smiling, already prepping the matcha drink, “I think it’s cute.”

“He’s acting like he’s part of the neighborhood watch committee.” Your worker stands straight up, “Good morning mister Miya, another complaint today?”

Osamu crosses his arms, lips in a thin line, “If you’re going to have your workers hand out flyers, I would prefer it if it wasn’t done in front of my restaurant.”

“Here’s your order.” The cup in your hand is stretched out to him.

“I didn’t.” Osamu frowns but his finger brush against yours when he reaches for the cup.

“I’ll be sure to tell them to stay closer to our café.” Despite him turning away, he flushes, “Have a great day Miya Osamu!” Your voice makes his ears go red.

The workers giggle when he turns around to thank you. It was painfully obvious that he had a crush on you. Excuses upon excuses as a way to step into your café and have brief moments with you. His eyes distracted by the cup, he runs into the door, giggles follow him as he leaves.

Osamu has himself crouched behind the counter, hands in his hair, hiding from the world. He remains a roadblock to his workers but they all move around him; he can’t possibly step back into your café after that embarrassing moment.

“It probably wasn’t that bad sir.” The worker has been waiting for five minutes trying to get one of the rice bags from behind Osamu.

Osamu digs his hands into his hair, “I basically face planted into the door.”

“Can I just get the rice please? We have orders.”

When Osamu stands to his feet, the wind gets knocked out of him. You wave from behind the counter and Osamu coughs as though he was busily trying to do something from under.

“Can I help you with something?”

You lean on your toes, it makes him want to delve just a little closer to you, “Yeah, there’s a car blocking one of our carry out spots, it has an Onigiri Miya sticker on the bumper so we thought maybe it was yours?”

Osamu facepalms, he had forgotten to move his car. He’s quick to round the counter, making his way to you until he feels it. He’s suddenly thrusted forward, unable to comprehend the wet floor sign before he’s tumbling right into you. Your hands steady his arms, Osamu’s find themselves clutching your waist. He was blushing madly, nose brushing against yours; customers and workers alike stare at the rather intimate hold.

“Are you alright?”

Osamu lets go but the step he takes back makes him slip, your arm stretches out to grasp him but it only sends you forward. Everyone gasps. Osamu lands on his ass, your body hovering over him and he’s blushing even harder now with your breath against his skin.

“I’m so sorry.” You pull away from him.

“It’s my fault.” Osamu dusts himself off, helping you to your feet, even holding your hand to try and balance the both of you, “Are you okay?”

Besides minor embarrassment, you grin to him, “Nothing I haven’t experienced before. Have you ever slipped and spilled rice in the middle of lunch rush, effectively getting grains of rice in everything?” Osamu laughs, “Truly one of my more embarrassing moments.”

He feels his heart suddenly more at ease, the restaurant goes back to their bustling conversations and the two of you walk out together. Osamu thinks to himself that the term rivals didn’t fit the category that he has you under in his head.

“It’s called love.” Atsumu draws the word out and Osamu smacks his arm, effectively making Atsumu bang his head against the table, “Dammit Samu! Stop doing that!”

“Stop being stupid then.”

Atsumu begins a snarky outcry of obscenities at his brother. He doesn’t mind it as he sees you walking past his restaurant. The sun makes it hard for you to notice him through the windows but he has a perfect view of you carrying boxes towards your café. Your steps halt as the top box begins to tilt, leaning the rest of the boxes in the same directions.

“I got you.” Osamu pushes the boxes, he takes the top half to balance in his hands, “I’ll help you.”

“Thanks.” You beam, “I see your brother is visiting.”

When Osamu looks at the window, Atsumu has his face pressed against the glass. His heavy breathing creating fog, “Samu!” It amuses you when Osamu knocks against the glass, sending Atsumu to jolt back, “Samu! Get me some onigiri from the café.”

“You’re literally in an Onigiri restaurant!” Osamu barks.

Your giggle pulls him along and as if cupid had struck him with fifty arrows, he follows you happily.

It came to no surprise for literally everyone when Osamu finally mustered up the courage to ask you out. In the after hours of work, he discovers you flipping chairs all by your lonesome; his hand knocks against the glass, it causes you to jump in surprise but it quickly fades when you see him motioning for the locked door.

“Where are all of your workers?” Osamu has begun to help turn the chairs onto the tables, something he’s accustomed to doing at his restaurant.

“I sent them home. I don’t like making them stay too late.”

Osamu thinks about how his workers are cleaning up at the moment; he follows you to the back, eyes trailing themselves over your body, he finds the way your hair is tied with ribbons to be cute and he wonders if you look just as cute with your hair down.

“Osamu?”

He blushes when you bring him back to reality, “Sorry, I was thinking about something.”

“I’m just finishing up some prep for tomorrow, you don’t have to stay.” Your hands dust flour onto the table, your fingers forming bagels for tomorrow’s breakfast rush.

Osamu stands next to you, he curiously takes a piece of dough, following your hand movements to form the bagel shape, “This is the first time I’ve formed bagels.”

“Really?” You glance at him, “You’re a natural, I’d definitely hire you as a chef.” Unexpectedly, Osamu feels your hand hold over his, “You just need to make sure it’s all uniform. I don’t think my customers would enjoy bagels that are one size five times bigger than another.”

It’s another two hours before you two finish forming and proofing the bagels for the next day. He waits outside the doors of your café, he can clearly see his workers are just about to leave too, they snicker seeing him waiting outside. He quickly motions for them to go away, when the door chimes, he pretends as though he was just about to scratch his head.

“Thanks for the help.” Your hair falls past your shoulders, Osamu wishes time would stop for a second so he could run his fingers through them. It’s just the two of you standing on the empty street, the lamps barely doing you justice, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Wait.” Osamu tugs on your sleeve, “Do you want to have dinner with me? Or will you? I mean, you don’t have to but if you want to.”

“Are you asking me out?”

Osamu gulps, “Are willing to go out with me?”

He may have reached another level of joy when you clasp onto his arm, “Duh! You’re a little slow but you got there eventually.” 

Osamu lets you drag him along the sidewalk, opting for a place nearby rather than driving elsewhere. He can’t help the smile of content on his face watching you stuff your mouth with food. The meal is comfortable and nice; but the date is absolutely, blissfully, perfect. At the end of the night, he walks you to your car, hands dug deep into his pockets and he isn’t sure if he should shamelessly kiss you or do the awkward hug and goodbye.

“Are you thinking if you should kiss me or hug me?” You laugh when he looks at you bewildered.

“Are you reading my mind?”

You lean forward, a whisper on you, “It’s a secret superpower I have.” The both of you chuckle and before he can register it, you stand on your toes, pressing a quick kiss onto his cheek. You open the door to your car as he blushes profoundly, “Normally I don’t kiss on the first date, the one on the cheek is just a guilty pleasure, because you’re cute.”

Osamu knew from the beginning that the competition shouldn’t have been one to worry about. What he should have been worried about was how cute the owner was.

“Uh-oh, here comes leader of the neighborhood watch committee.” Your workers snicker seeing him strut into the café, “Good morning mister Miya.”

“I have a complaint.” Osamu crosses his arms, eyes staring at you. He leans forward, “I’d prefer it if you kept your hair down.” His fingers pull on the ribbon in your hair, your strands fall to your shoulders.

On your toes, your lips meet his from over the counter; there’s a hum in him, “We take complaints here very seriously.” You steal the ribbon from his fingers, “But you know I can’t be walking around with my hair down.”

“I have a solution.” He situates a hat that he’s made appear out of no where onto your head. He pushes strands of your hair behind your ears and fixes the hat’s strap to fit nicely onto your head, “Perfect.”

You roll your eyes to your boyfriend, “It says Onigiri Miya on the hat doesn’t it.”

Osamu happily claps his hands, “Product placement.”

“You’re so shameless!” You set the drink in front of him, “Cash or card?”

Osamu scoffs, “You’re making me pay now?”

“Yup.” You wink to him, “It’s what boyfriends do.”

“You boyfriend trapped me with free matcha coffee.” Osamu takes the drink, pressing a kiss on your lips quickly, “Put it on my tab.”

“You literally don’t have a tab, Samu!” He’s laughing as he runs away with the drink, turning around to blow you a kiss before running off to his restaurant to prepare for the lunch rush.

[random-imagines-blog]

Post Red {Viktor Krum x Reader Oneshot}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 3072 Summary: At a time when he should be focused on the game, Viktor Krum is distracted by you, his childhood best friend, and a blonde-haired boy who won’t stop flirting.

The Quidditch World Cup. You came just about every year, getting pretty okay seats with your best friend Viktor and his family. His parents and yours were good friends, which instantly meant that you were best friends. And with his father holding season passes to every Quidditch world cup, no matter where it was, this had become a yearly tradition. “I’m going to be on the Bulgarian team one day,” Viktor would always state as you watched the players fly. Bulgaria was always his favorite. Home country pride. It was yours too, but sometimes you liked to cheer for other times to mix things up. You would always grin and nudge him to point out something a player was doing, but not this year. This year, you were at the top of the stadium, standing next to the Minister of Magic in a special area, watching Viktor Krum play in Bulgaria versus Ireland. He was achieving his dream.

Every time that he flew past you, you jumped up and down, waving the flag of his team. He had become the star seeker of the team so quickly, it made your head spin. But you were nothing if not supportive. You used up your allowance to buy his merchandise, even though he could get it to you for free. It almost became a joke between the two of you, how you would always show up to his house wearing a sweater with his face on it, bright and smiling. You always made the joke that he was smiling on the sweater because it was the closest that he would ever get to your chest. He would make the joke in return that he was just smiling because he finally was looking at someone good looking - himself. He was actually very funny for a serious looking man.

You weren’t the only one high up in the stadium. Sharing a box with you was the Minister of Magic himself, and a man with his son. The boy was two or three years younger than you, you would assume by his size, and his hair was as silver as snow, just like his fathers. You had no interest in them. You weren’t here to make friends. You were here to support the best one that you had. But you did give a friendly hello and smile to the Minister, as it was better to have a friend in him than an enemy.

The other boy though, he wanted to have more than a friendly hello with you. He kept moving closer to the part of the box that you were occupying. He spoke to you with a very snobby voice, and though it would be considered rude and your parents would be disappointed in you, your direct reaction was to pretend that you didn’t know English.

“I’m Draco Malfoy,” He said, sticking his hand out to shake yours. “We’re here with the Minister of Magic. Are you here by yourself?”

Rather than shake his hand, because you honestly didn’t want to touch him for too long, you tapped yours against his in a high-five. “Ja, go fast!” You said, pointing at one of the Bulgarian Chasers who just flew past you.

The look on Draco’s face was worth it. But there was still a long game ahead of you. It could go on for hours. For days. Hopefully for the former though, because Viktor was a really good seeker. You had full confidence that he would get the snitch before it turned midnight.

Draco went and stood by his father for a little bit, and the two had quiet conversations. You didn’t pay him much attention. You were too busy watching the game. Even during lulls when it was just Chasers fighting over the ball in the middle of the pitch, you were intrigued. You didn’t pay attention to anything else - except for maybe making faces at Viktor when he passed by you on his way to catch what he thought was the snitch. He was darting back and forth so quickly though, it was hard to tell if he had seen you.

Since the World Cup was officially sponsored by Butterbeer, it kept being brought up to your box by people who worked for the Quidditch federation. It was enough to keep you warm as the game went into the nighttime. The skies seemed to threaten rain, but you didn’t care whether it fell or not. You were having fun, regardless of the weather.

The Irish scored the first goal. You booed, even though the others in your box seemed to be very supportive of the green team. You smiled apologetically at Fudge as he gave you an odd look, but didn’t pass a glance at the other two. However, the young boy came and stood beside you again, leaning over the box to look down at the people below in the lesser seats. He was sneering at them, like they had done something wrong by just existing there. That was worth a look to you at least. He caught your eye, and that sneer turned into a smile.

“Is this your first time at the Quidditch World Cup?” He asked. You shook your head, still feigning not knowing any English. “We come every year. But this is the first time that we’re in the Minister’s Box. So how did you get up here anyway? Who are you?”

He wasn’t letting up. You tried to look up at the players again, but the war for the Quaffle was going on in the middle of the pitch which meant there wasn’t much to look at right now. He nudged your side, so you finally answered, giving him your first and last name.

“Sounds exotic,” He said, which made you have to turn away and roll your eyes. Leave it to someone from England to think that your name was exotic, when it was commonplace where you were from. And not like he had the right to judge - what sort of name was Draco?

There was finally some action on the pitch, which took his attention from you for a little while. Unfortunately it was Ireland again, scoring the second goal of the game. Your eyes scanned the pitch to look for the familiar frame of your best friend and you saw him across the stadium. He was balanced on his broom, sitting on it in a way that made it look easy. Comfortable. You always admired how effortless he made it look to fly, while you were always hunched down, holding on with both hands until your knuckles had started to hurt. You waved at him when you thought you caught his eye and he smiled back at you. You chuckled as you heard a few girls in rows below you start to squeal because they thought that it had been at him.

“He’s overrated,” Draco muttered beside you.

“Krum?” You asked - before realizing this was very close to exposing yourself as a fraud.

“Yeah. He’s not even that good. In fact, I’m better than him. I’m the Seeker on the Slytherin Quidditch team. I got in second year, which is really rare, actually.”

You let his voice go in one ear and then out the other. This boy seemed to like to talk about himself an awful lot.

Ireland scored a third goal, and you groaned loudly, cutting off Draco in the middle of a sentence. “Oh, are you cold?” He asked.

Either he didn’t notice that you were shaking your head, or he didn’t care. He moved in closer to you and tried to put his arm around your shoulders. In your discomfort, you took a few hasty steps away, and ended up bumping into the Minister himself, stepping on his robes which almost pulled him down.

“I’m so sorry,” You said in horror as you realized what you had just done. You helped him to upright himself, and he gave you a wary look, like he should have expected this.

“It’s quite alright,” He said, but he did wander to the other side of the box, far away from you. You watched, feeling a bit bashful about what just had happened. At least, until there was a cheer from the fans. Ireland scored yet another goal. You sighed, and put your gaze back on the game. Viktor had moved since you had last seen him, and you began to scan for him once more, only for him to pop up not too far from you.

“I knew you spoke English,” Draco said from next to you. You almost forgot about the little twerp, but here he was, making himself known again. You never met anyone so infuriating before. He just couldn’t pick up a hint. “Come on, talk to me. Do you go to Hogwarts? I felt like I would have seen you there.”

“I don’t go to Hogwarts,” You stated. “You have not seen me before. And after this, we shall not meet again. Please, leave me alone.”

“I’ll be telling my father about your rudeness,” He said, finally turning away from you. You let out a sigh of relief. Maybe you could finally get into the game.

There had been a few close calls of Ireland getting the snitch. They were winning by quite a lot, and you could feel Viktor’s frustration from where you were standing. He kept looking at you, and you didn’t have much to offer him except for crossing your fingers.

“I think you should come to have dinner with us after the game,” Draco said, strolling back over to you after a while.

“The game could go on for hours, or even days,” You said, clenching the fence in front of you. You had never felt the urge to punch someone before but it was growing slowly and steadily. Something about his ferret like face.

“Well, we’re taking a break soon. We brought our new house elf. It’s an alright cook, it’ll do for the occasion. And you’re going to join us, aren’t you?”

“I’m fine here, thank you,” You said, scoffing at the idea of a break. You had no intention of leaving the game until it was over, even if that meant starving or peeing yourself. You were dedicated to stick it out for Viktor, at the very least.

He was flying not too far, eyes peeled for the stitch. But he looked at you. He was able to smile once more, but a hand grabbed yours and pulled you away from the fence. In your astonishment, you had let go. “Come on, we’re going to have something to eat.”

There was a sound of awe from the crowd at the exact same time that something went soaring by your head. You just barely managed to duck before it turned around and came back. A bludger. But how in the hell did it-

It went returning the way that it had come from, flying across the pitch. That was when you saw Viktor again, a little closer to you this time, holding a beater’s bat. He tossed it back to the beater, who went soaring after the bludger, while Viktor looked over at you. You put your hands over your heart as a thank you. He had always been a little overprotective of you, but right now, you were grateful for it. You were able to snap your hand away from Draco’s grasp, who was still ducking from the bludger attack. “I said I’m fine here. And if you, or your father, have a problem with that, you can shove it up your rear!” You shouted. The Minister overheard this part of the conversation and let out a little ‘oh my’ in surprise.

You didn’t even care. Enough was enough. If he grabbed you again, you would be telling everyone that you were being assaulted, and put him on full blast. Though he looked rather shaky after the encounter with the bludger, so you had the feeling he wouldn’t actually be bothering you again. You returned back to the fence so you could overlook the pitch again, and wrapped your hands around it so no one would be able to drag you back again.

-

The game finished with Bulgaria’s loss. You were disappointed, but it wasn’t Viktor’s fault. He still managed to catch the snitch, so he had done his job. It was the Keeper that you were disappointed with, and you would be bringing that up to him later.

You descended the endless flights of stairs, blending in with the crowd after the game - many were celebrating but there were quite a few who looked the same as you felt. Damn Ireland, you were thinking to yourself. And damn the Bulgarian Keeper! He hadn’t been able to do his job properly. Even Viktor would have done a better job, and it was his least favorite position!

You managed to veer away from the crowd to go to your own little campsite. Much like the others around yours, the tent was much bigger and roomier on the inside than it appeared on the outside, thanks to a little magic. You marched on through the flaps to go inside, and change out of your clothes. It had been a long game, and you had definitely sweated at least a little bit. You wanted to be much more presentable when Viktor would come along and join you.

The flap came open once more, and Viktor strolled in, just as you were fastening the button on your bottoms. He had perfect timing - now at least, maybe not so during the game. His jaw was clenched, you noticed, and he looked very angry. He’d lost games before, but still reveled in the fact that he had been playing. This was not a mood that just came from the game.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, watching as he walked past you to the armchair that was in front of the budding fire. Thank heavens for magic - a fire and a tent would never have worked otherwise.

“That boy who was touching you-” He said, sinking into the chair, and spit directly into the fire with disgust. “What’s his name?”

“Oh, we don’t need to worry about him, Vik. I think you scared him enough with the bludger. He wouldn’t even come close to me after that. Turned white as a sheet,” You chuckled at the memory, but his anger seemed to rage on.

“No, tell me his name.” Viktor demanded. You sighed, and walked to where he was sitting. The chair wasn’t big enough for the both of you, but it had rather wide arms and you planted yourself right there. You leaned your head against the top of his, the bristly growth of his hair tickling your forehead. “Y/N...”

“He was a stupid, petulant child who I am never going to lay eyes on again, Viktor Krum. Why did it make you so mad?”

“No one should be touching you. No one should be dragging you...” He said, moodily. He was staring into the fire, not at you at all.

“Tell you what. I’ll let you know his name after you calm down, how about that?” You suggested. It would take some time - he had a temper like a bonfire that would just keep on burning until the morning.

“Fine,” He grumbled. He said nothing more, and the two of you sat in silence, staring at the fire as it crackled, and listening to some of the cheers from outside. People were still celebrating the Irish win out there, and it gave everything a joyous atmosphere. “I’m not angry anymore.” He said after a few more minutes.

You pulled away from him, and took a look at his eyes to see if he really was in a post-red mood. He still looked grumpy but the worst of it seemed to be over. “His name was Draco Malfoy. His father is friends with the Minister, which is why I didn’t do much about it myself. You took good care of me, Vik. Just be happy that it ended the way that it did and we could move on with our lives.”

“If I see him again, I’m punching him,” Viktor grumbled. You shrugged, alright with that since the likelihood of it seemed so low.

“That is a price that he will have to pay then,” You smiled, moving back towards him and fell into his lap. Before you could try to get up, his arms went around your waist and started to tickle you in the way that he knew you hated. Fingers digging into your skin, it was a horrible feeling but the closeness that it brought wasn’t entirely terrible. “Vik - come on, stop...”

“I like it when you call me that,” He said, finally letting a smile come across his usual gruff features. You smiled in return, and lightly ran your fingers across his sculpted jawline, feeling the bone beneath his skin. His breathing hitched, and he held you closer, tighter.

You grew closer, until you could feel the heat of his breath on your lips. Viktor was so close - and you hadn’t realized until this moment that this was something that you wanted. You had always been friends, and your parents had teased since the beginning that they were planning your wedding to each other. But this was the first time that you had seen what they had been seeing.

Screams came from outside, and they were far from being the joyous kind. There was serious fear in the female voice that you had heard. And then came others. More and more screaming. The tent seemed to move as people were rushing past it. You could just see it through the crack between the flaps which acted as doors.

“Stay with me,” Viktor said, getting up immediately. You agreed to this without question, and when he offered you his hand, you took it. Whatever danger was out there, you were certain that you could face it together.

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There:  5.1

Author’s Note:  How’s everyone liking the story so far?  Kinda getting into my head about how stiff the writing is.  Maybe it just feels stiff to me, idk.  Anyways, here’s an early chapter!

"So, why are your eyes different colors?"  Childe caught you alone while you gathered firewood a few yards away from the camp.  The sun had long set, leaving you to rely on a lantern and the dim light of the distant fire.  He was limping from your sparring session earlier.

You had beat him.

And man, did it feel good.

"We crossed paths with a merchant that was traveling from Fontaine.  He said they're 'contacts.'  Basically little objects a person can put across their pupils and change their color," you repeated the rehearsed words a little too perfectly for Childe to believe.

"Oh?  I've never heard of that invention before," he tested.

"I guess it's new?  Like the kamera devices they recently developed? Aether has one of those."  You watched as he kept his hands idle at his sides.

"Interesting.  And Aether was the one who told you to say this to me?"  He blocked your path to the fire by placing a hand against the tree that stood behind you.  What a terrible liar you make, ojou-chan.  His friendly smile never left his lips, but it never reached his eyes.  They were cold and demeaning as they examined yours.

"I-I," you stumbled over your words.  "Why are you acting so weird, Childe?" You tried to laugh him off and attempted to duck under his arm.  What to say, what to say! Oh, maybe this'll work?  "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're acting like a schoolboy crushing on one of his friends."

It might have been a wrong move.

He pinned your shoulders to the tree and made sure no one had their eyes on the two of you.  "On the contrary, you began acting strangely the minute I found you today."  Something in his gaze faltered as he replayed your words in his head. Perhaps I am acting like a schoolboy. But I can't help it if I'm infatuated with my target.  His eyes fell to the shimmering necklace resting against your collarbone, and he gently touched it.  "This is new."

"Don't touch that," you slapped his hand away.

"I don't recall you wearing such a genuine cor lapis charm before.  Where'd you get this from?"

"It was my Granny's."

Childe scrunched his nose at the answer, a brief look of internal conflict passing over his face like a cloud.  'Was?' The woman passed? I made sure she wouldn't get hurt by my men.  So then how did she--  He wanted to ask until the realization struck him.  They went to Quince Village after my leaving.  She saw the Fatui there--

You were too enraged to notice him visually fight himself and approached the campsite with an armful of branches.  You made a point to sit next to Xiao and glared at the Harbinger as he returned.

He maintained eye contact with you, even after sitting across the fire from you and the yaksha.  Your pupils seemed to glow from his perspective.  The fire licked the air in between you until all he could make out was the anger in your eyes.  She knows.  He mentally kicked himself, but only partially because of the possible complications this could pose for Signora and her grand plan.  If you were this angry, there was a chance you had told the yaksha.  And if the yaksha saw the Fatui, or at least heard of what you thought happened, then there's a chance he told Mr. Zhongli.  While he could not break the contract with the Tsaritsa, he'd find a way around the stated rules.  He made a fool of Childe once; he could do it again.

Childe didn't care in the slightest about fighting the entire group--though he was a bit afraid of facing the yaksha despite his urge to fight every living thing on Teyvat.  The only thing that mattered to him was you.  And if you were angry enough to fight, vision or not, he'd have to take you by force.  You may hold a special place in his heart, but his feelings for you meant nothing compared to his loyalty for the Tsaritsa.

One chance, the harbinger strengthened his resolve. I'll give her one chance to prove herself.  If she fails, I won't hesitate to take that which will secure Snezhnaya's future.

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

Several days passed by without incident--

--Is what I'd like to say, but unfortunately, that didn't hold true for you.

Childe and his unrelenting pleas for battles continued to reach your ears day in and day out.  He was the one that was attached to your hip, not Xiao.  You had only realized today that Childe was around you more often than the yaksha ever since he greeted you with a jumpscare at Luhua Pool.  To make matters worse, Xiao neglected to make a move towards him.

She can handle herself, he thought after witnessing the stunts you pulled on Childe.  Xiao recognized that the movements you were using as his own; perhaps there was an upside to you unconsciously peeking in on his memories.  He put himself on standby when he came to the realization.  But make no mistake, he would and will protect you if things got out of hand with the harbinger.  He just figured he'd take a step back and quietly observe his weak points, just like the old days.  The days in which Childe did not pose a serious threat to the group; when all that was between you and the harbinger was harmless bickering.

It would seem like those old days were still fresh to an outsider, but as the days passed by, you were growing increasingly frustrated with Childe's behavior.  After all, how could he continue to play the part of an oblivious comrade, when it was clear as day that the tensions within the group were growing?  How could he even call you a comrade with a straight face? How was it that he felt no remorse for his actions toward Granny when he looked you in the eye?

How was it that he could be so carefree?

Maybe part of you envied him for it.  Your inner grumblings did you no favor in the present moment though; the team had stepped into the western side of Dragonspine.  Your four coats made almost no difference against the sheer cold, and your body shivered uncontrollably even though warmer weather was only a hundred yards behind you.

Everyone except Xiao and Aether wore warm clothes, and it looked like the poor outlander regretted his decision to forego the garments.  Xiao appeared to be unbothered and more energetic than usual.  Childe looked like he was right at home with the weather, his shirt still sloppily unbuttoned to reveal his toned body underneath.  Bennet walked alongside you and was replacing Zhongli for the time being.

Snowflakes lazily floated their way down to earth, but they did nothing to grab your attention when the wind continued to howl against the team's direction.  You caught Xiao letting snow collect in his hand with an almost childlike wonder, but he glared at you when he found you staring.

"I want to find some dragon teeth for a sword and since you haven't been here before I thought it'd be a good idea to show you around," Aether called out to you over his shoulder, his arms crossing over his bare stomach for an ounce of warmth.

"You're insane!"

Aether's laugh mixed with the clattering of his teeth.  "You only live once, right?"  You removed two of your coats and threw them over his head.  "T-t-thanks."

You rolled your eyes despite the fact that you were smiling at him, only for your gaze to lock with Xiao's look of disapproval.  'Mortals are fragile,' you interpreted his frown and giggled.  

"Here we go!" Bennet lit the firepit with his flaming sword and knelt down in front of it.  Everyone joined him;  Aether was especially close to the flames.

"It's kind of annoying to find fire every five minutes," you shivered violently.  "And you practically go up here for fun?"  

"It gets easier the more we do it," Paimon giggled with a nervous smile.  "Besides, we get to mine starsilver and find cool dragon stuff that we can sell--"

"Don't lump me in with you," Aether piped up without moving away from the fire.

The distant sound of a conversation was carried over by a bone-chilling breeze.  "Huh?  Should we go check it out?"  Paimon stared in the direction the vague voices were coming from.

"U-uh-huh," nodded Aether.

The group stumbled over a hill only to find the body cavity of Durin.  While it threw you off, the sight around the remains was what chilled you to the bone.  Of course there's Fatui here, you scoffed.

"I see a tooth over there too,"  Aether whined.

"What's everyone looking at me for?"  Childe let out a nervous chuckle and awkwardly scratched the back of his head.  "These aren't my guys."

"We know," Paimon cooed.

"That's why we want you to go talk to them and let us pass," Aether held the smuggest expression you've ever seen him pull off.

"Uh...I'm not under any jurisdiction to--"

"Do it," you ordered with cold eyes.  When he locked eyes with you, you stood on your tip-toes and spoke in his ear.  "Prove your loyalty to the group."

"My loyalty, ojou-chan," his eyes narrowed significantly, "lies with Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa."

"Uh-oh," Paimon poofed out of existence.

"Uh, guys?  Those Fatui agents are approaching us reeeaal fast," Bennett warned.  

The two of you broke eye contact to find that he was right.  One electro and two geo skirmishers were walking towards the group.  Poofing would be a more accurate description.  Childe gave you a final look before he hopped over a log to greet them.

"Greetings!"  He didn't smile, and the skirmishers stopped in their tracks.

"Master Childe?  We didn't realize you'd be joining us on the mountain."  The three of them knelt out of respect.

"It's a surprise visit, really.  I came to check on your progress--"  The group made their way around the Fatui and Aether yanked the large tooth out of the ground while Childe chattered away with his subordinates.

[realcube]

aoba johsai love language headcanons 💌

tw// swearing, sexual references

Tōru Oikawa

words of affirmation.

like he could’ve lost a match by a landslide and all you need to do is tell him that you’re proud of him and he’ll immediately feel better

well, it wouldn’t stop him from working harder or feeling bad for himself but it would definitely bring him some relief in the moment 

and sometimes when he is practising, you’ll tell him that he’s doing amazing - just to boost his spirits - and it works

he’ll be thinking about you for the rest of the day

sometimes when he’s especially insecure, the thought will arise that perhaps you’re just complimenting him bc you feel bad for him

but the sincerity in your eyes assures him that you’d never lie to him about something like that

mostly bc you’ve never held back when insulting him so it just makes your compliments 10x more special and genuine 

in the moment, he doesn’t appreciate when you jokingly call him ‘flattykawa’ or how you snicker whenever he misses a set

but when you give him praise, these little actions help him believe that you’re being truthful

the admiration wasn’t one-sided though as he often gives you some praise/body-worship 😊

only in public though, in private he’s a dick (but you give that same energy back)

he goes from ‘yeah, this my beautiful s/o (y/n). i’m so lucky to have them by my side tonight.’ etc

to ‘how’s my favourite goblin doing today?’

SORRY omFg I JUST THOUGHT OF OIKAWA HAVING YOU SAVED AS ‘goblin-chan 💚’ IN HIS PHONE UIVRLUSGBLAEIGB

Hajime Iwaizumi 

his love language is acts of service 

like..if you fill up his water bottle during practise for him

HIS FKN HEART

he will stutter out a thanks but really he wants to give you kisses and a hug but like..not while he is all sweaty 

also, sometimes you’ll give him a massage if he is tense for whatever reason and during it - the whole time - his mind is just fixated on how lucky he is to have you 🥺

in return for being the most supportive s/o, he’ll try find ways that he can be of service to you but the best he can think of is just holding your bags and holding doors open for you

i mean, he tried to help you with your workload once but he kinda just messed it up, resulting in more work for you

and he tried to give you a massage once but he almost dislocated your shoulder

there was the one time tried to make you a cute breakfast but he burnt the toast, didn’t put enough flour into the pancakes and the orange juice had bits in it 🤢

so yeah, chauffeur/bodyguard! iwaizumi lol

Issei Matsukawa

the fandom has drilled it so far into my mind that matsukawa is a sex god- i- don’t even know what to believe anymore 

does he actually have a personality besides that ?

anyway, his love language is physical touch sdfghjkl

what else could it be lol O-O

anyway, he loves it when you ruffle his hair 🥺

oh and he gets butterflies when hug him from behind 🦋

he’s probably playful with his touch tbh

like lots of side tickles, light ass taps, scooping you up to toss you over his shoulder, raspberries and neck pecks (^///^)

i really can’t imagine him being too rough with you 

the meanest he could possibly be was when he picked you up bridal style on a cold winter day to then procced to dump you into a huge pile of snow 

he just lives off of seeing you happy/laugh tbh 

Takahiro Hanamaki

his love language is probably quality time

he just enjoys going out on long walks with you to just banter tbh 

he’s slightly more talkative around but not really 

he just enjoys listening to you and slipping in the occasional ‘same’ or ‘yeah.’

he finds anything you have to say interesting and even if you don’t talk at all, he’s just charmed by your presence 🥰

and he just finds average day activities more fun when you’re around 

like washing dishes or folding clothes can get tedious when you’re doing it on your own but when you help him/talk to him while he is executing a task, it makes it more enjoyable

so he can’t even call you ‘annoying’ in a joking way bc he is lowkey a needy bf who will be in your DMs at 6PM on a weekday like ‘come over, i’m bored lol’

��no ❤’

‘(ง •_•)ง please’

Kentarō Kyōtani

physical touch 🥺

but he doesn’t do it too often bc he’s always scared that he’s gonna hurt you (ಥ _ ಥ)

it’s obvious that he wants to though 

like whenever y’all are walking beside each other he’ll make sure that he’ll hold his bags/food in the hand farther from you, so he can use his spare hand to lightly graze the back of yours with his pinkie every so often

or the way he locks his gaze onto your lips whenever he wants a kiss

or how he’ll hold an intense stare on your eyes while he’s resisting the urge to wrap you in a hug 

you were a bit apprehensive to show affection at first bc the last thing you wanted to do was misread his social cues and go in for a hug, then get pushed away 

but believe me, kyōtani would literally never push you away if you tried to give him a hug - no matter how mad he is

so you’ll probably have to initiate anything physical until he gets comfortable and learns how to control his own strength 

but you’re fine with it though bc even though you’re the one who commences the cuddling, it’s not as though he’s disinterested in it

he shows you that he loves you by immediately hugging you back when you first wrap your arms around him and squeezing the air out of you, at first

he’s just so excited that he can finally touch you (❤´艸｀❤) he can’t contain it 

but he’ll get less rough over time, especially if you point it out to him 

‘kyō- my lungs-’ you wheezed as he squashed your torso

‘oh, my bad.’ he muttered, quickly releasing his tight grip on you and burying his face into the crook of your neck.

Shigeru Yahaba

his love language is probably gift giving

idk why but i can just imagine him being the most extra bitch when it comes to like christmas, birthdays, holidays, halloween- 

VALENTINES DAY omfg

IMAGINE YAHABA COMING UP TO YOU ON VALENTINE’S DAY WITH GORGEOUS RED ROSES, CHOCOLATES, A CUTE LIL TEDDY AND HE’S JUST LIKE

‘happy valentine’s day, (y/n)’

he’s adorable 

anyway

he just loves seeing your reactions bc they’re always so cute omg

but like i feel like his gifts are like your typical boyfriend gifts lol

like for your birthday he gets you a bath bomb set 

and for Halloween he buys you both matching costumes ✋

Akira Kunimi 

 probably quality time

i imagine that everything else (other than physical touch) requires too much energy for his liking

like who can be bothered to go out to get their s/o a present when you can just watch a movie with them and call it a day?

who wants to do the dishes for their s/o when they can just be lazy and procrastinate together?

who has the energy to compliment their s/o when you can stargaze instead?

but i do think he is kind of a mix between quality time and physical touch bc he really enjoys cuddling with you and resting by your side 💤 

like if he has the option to hug you while watching a movie then he will most definitely take it 

also he does a lot of complaining and he finds that you’re the easiest person to complain to bc you ✨understand him��

Yūtarō Kindaichi

words of affirmation

i mean, he’s clearly not afraid or ashamed to be kind verbally so he’s probably the most supportive bf 🥺

like he literally melts whenever you compliment one of blocks 

and he makes sure that you feel the same whenever you tell him about one of your achievements 

like he is literally your personal hypeman before any big event 

‘you can do this, (y/n). just channel your inner einstein! i’m sure you’ll do great. you’re so smart so-’

‘kindaichi, it’s just a physics test- this one doesn’t even make up for part of my grade.’

‘-you’ll do amazing, (y/n). believe in yourself.’ 

[soliavenne]

Birthday Cake

Word count: 1.9k

Warning: NSFW content ahead!

It was supposed to just be a sly joke on your behalf.

…But it’s your birthday anyways, and Gaara was more than enthusiastic to spoil you on your special day.

All you have to do is to repeat what you teasingly whispered to him once again; maybe coo it sexily right into his ear. You knew it yourself you’d instantly shatter him right at the very spot as his whole being gets swallowed by his innate need to please you.

Another birthday gift wouldn’t hurt after all, right?

“You said something, didn’t you?” Gaara whispered under his breath as he continued to lean forward, making your body shift backwards until you were cornered in between his body and the firm arm rest of the couch. “I wasn’t able to pick up on it, my love. I would appreciate it a lot if you were to repeat your words earlier to me so that I could assist you.”

“I- it was a joke, Gaara.” You tried to avoid his stern gaze, swallowing the lump in your throat when he moved closer, his knee almost an inch away from pressing against your now pulsing heat.

“Was it?” Gaara furrowed his forehead, his icy-cold gaze piercing right through you. He dove his head forward to trace a line of soft, pecking kisses on your jaw; sending a shudder down your spine. You slowly raked your nails across his scalp in return, earning a soft groan from his mouth. Gaara dragged his lips down towards your neck, giving it an excruciatingly slow, licking kisses before taking in a portion of your skin to suckle on gently. “Was it really just a joke, my love?”

“No…” You whispered breathily, a warm flush spreading across your cheeks as you felt the familiar weight of his body press down against you, pinning you deepe and deeper into the couch. “Please… kiss me, Gaara.”

“Not until you repeat what you said.” Gaara mumbled with a smirk, hooking his index finger into the rounded-neckline of your stretchy t-shirt to pull it down, revealing more of your supple skin; which Gaara pampered with wet, gentle kisses. Gaara shot his eyes towards yours to meet your gaze once again, taking in the sight of your softly panting open-mouth and your heavy-lidded eyes; his gaze as if he was anticipating the words to fall off of your mouth right at that moment.

“W- would you still be…” You swallowed, your eyes falling to the side embarrassingly, only for Gaara to softly grab you by chin to have you face him once again. “t- the type of guy who doesn’t like sweets… i- if you’re going to lick the frosting off of my body?”

Despite being on the teasing end of the line, the blush on his face got redder in an interesting contrast. “I see.” He pressed his knee against the cushion of the couch, his other foot planted on the floor as he reached out for the birthday cake on the coffee table, hooking his finger into the icing before smearing your lower lip with it.

“Would you like me to give it a try, Y/N?”

You quickly latched onto Gaara’s shirt, pulling him downwards abruptly before wrapping your arms around the back of his neck; pressing a firm kiss against his lips. Gaara chuckled against your pout before snaking his tongue outside his mouth, dragging it to the horizontal of your lower lip to lick off the frosting before sucking it into his wet mouth. Your hands snaked down his back, trying to untangle the apron from his body shakingly before pulling on the circular fabric over his head and kicking the apron down the floor.

“I need to taste more.” Gaara whispered in between his sloppy kisses before placing a grip on your waist, swiftly shifting your position, with your back now pressing against back rest of the couch as he sat you upright. Gaara sat on your lap, his hands reaching out for the knot pressing against your lower back to untie it before pulling the apron over your head; discarding it into the side. He briefly turned around to grab another smear of icing into his index finger. “Please…” He cooed breathily into your ear. “stick out your tongue for me, baby.”

Your eyes widened a little at how needy his tone was, but you did oblige to his request; darting your tongue out gradually much to his approval. Gaara pressed his frosting-covered finger down your tongue before leaning his head forward once again, shoving an intrusive kiss against you, parting your wet mouth with his eager tongue as he continued to shamelessly explore your cavern in search for the sweetness of the frosting mixing in with the raw taste of your mouth, sucking your tongue greedily as if he wanted to taste even the tiniest hint he could receive from your sopping mouth. His sense of control began to cripple down as your intricate taste continued to intoxicate every fiber of his being.

You reached for your back, untangling the lock of your bra and hastily pulling the strap from the armholes and throwing it down the floor before pulling Gaara’s hand to press it against your heaving, clothed chest; making him growl lowly into your mouth. Gaara pulled back from the kiss as he panted uncontrollably, his chest heaving up and down, his face as red as his now messy hair as the sudden wave of dominance he had earlier began to leave his system. Gaara pressed his face against your cheek lovingly, mumbling a soft apology as he had realized that he kissed you way too hard earlier; which made you giggle in response as you tried to reassure him that it was fine.

“But your lips are a little swollen, Y/N,” Gaara whispered, his eyes soft and endearing. He placed his hand against your jaw, giving your lip a gentle brush of his thumb.

“Are they?” You asked amusingly as you stabilized your breathing process. “Does that mean you’ll have to lick the frosting somewhere else?”

Gaara’s stomach dropped, as your words never failed to fuel his impending arousal to seep through every pore of his skin. He pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his taut body to you; the gentle trace of his abs continuing to show more as it began to glisten with the tiniest glow of sweat. “And it what such place would you like me to lick it off, Y/N?”

“Why not take me in for a surprise? It’s my birthday, anyway.” Your voice was soft, yet the faintest endearing tease laced it ever so subtly. The subtleties he had learned to discern perfectly as time ripened his understanding of such things that he never really encountered before. He could also tell that the gradual indentation of smirk on your pout was in response to how easy it takes for you to rile him up and rob him off of his capacity to speak, and somehow; that increased his determination to bite back with a surprise you’re not expecting at all from him.

His boldness had always been in a state of unprecedented highs and lows. There are times where his statements ring of the usual dominance he emanates as the Kazekage himself, but his inexperience snaps him back to being a bashful shell of himself. Gaara’s chest tightened, as the rest of what he was planning on doing tonight followed up to his remaining rationality. His nervousness started to tackle him down, but his intrinsic impulse to satisfy your sexual urges came stronger. “Can I take off your pants, my love?” He started off as he stood from your lap, a faint shake nestling in between his sentence that he tried to swallow into hiding.

You nodded back to him, an anticipating sigh ripping from your chest as he pulled your pants by your waistband alongside propping his knee upon the carpeted floor as he kneeled before you. You were now left barely covered down below by the fabric of your dark, red thong, and the sexy garment earned a slight bite on Gaara’s lip as he took in the sight of the playful color pressing a beautiful contrast against your skin; spiralling him deeper into his arousal. Gaara pressed a fleeting kiss upon your lower abdomen as he stroked the curve of your hips with his thumbs, and when the tracing path of his mouth came in contact with the hem of your shirt, Gaara used the space between his thumb and index finger to push it upwards, revealing your heaving, naked breasts before him. With an endearing kiss upon one breast, and a knowing smile as he looked up to you, he grabbed the cake from the table behind his back, placing it beside you. He earned a shocked gasp from you when he wrapped his forearms around your thighs as he pulled you a lower towards him, encouraging you to rest your thighs upon his broad shoulders. behind your back up towards the side of your waist. An even louder gasp escaped you after he swiftly grabbed a dallop of frosting onto his fingers and rubbed the cold cream upon your hardening nipple.

“Fuck, Gaara…” You moaned when he abruptly pulled you downwards once again before enveloping your stiff peak with the cushion of the inside of his lips prior to taking in the whole nipple into his eager mouth, gradually increasing the firmness of his suckling as you continued to writhe against him. Gaara rubbed the remaining frosting on your other nipple before rubbing his forefinger slyly against it in a teasing manner, making your bite your lip in bliss.

“So sweet…” He growled with a low, breathy voice as his arousal began to take over him once again. He used his hand to maneuver your teat to suit his liking as his eye contact encouraged you to watch exactly how he sucked the frosting out of your nipple. Gaara closed his eyes before releasing the nub with a tight pop. “Take more of the frosting, Y/N.” He took in a deep breath before speaking once again. “I want to see you rub it over yourself.” Gaara whispered; his tone complex with a gradually increasing dominance yet a part of him still being held back.

You hooked your middle and index finger into the piped frosting of the cake. He eyed you hungrily, taking in the sight of you erotically rubbing frosting in circles over your stimulated nipple as you tried your best to bite back a gasp with a shy lip bite. Gaara leaned closer and swallowed the swollen nipple right into his starving mouth once again, retreating his mouth, extending the stiffened tip of his tongue to lick your hardened peak left and right vigorously before wrapping his dripping mouth all over it again, making you mewl his name lustfully as he wrapped your other nipple in between the sides of his index finger and his middle finger, fiddling with it lustfully.

The euphoria was getting the best of you, and you no longer cared how feral it might have appeared to be when you started to buck your hips in hopes of gaining a firmer gratification against his toned chest. Your slick was now soaking your thongs wet, and the lack of attention was beginning to make you desperate for his touch. “Please… please Gaara…”

Gaara licked and suckled both of your breast clean as he took his face from it with a faintest hint of satisfied smirk upon his lips.

There was more to the surprise you have yet to unwrap.

And there was something much more sweeter he has yet to taste.

 ---

Dedicated to my fellow writer, @ithinkinstories / @theshinobifairytales! Ya’ll check out her blogs, she writes for the Naruto fandom! Thank you so much for everything! Happy, happy birthday, you! :* <3 Take care, always!! :)) <3 

[mlqcconfessions]

Your headcanons are perfect! Thank you for your work!♥️ Can you make a Headcanon for all four when they are drunk and MC tries to take them home so they can Rest? I think it would be so funny with a drunk Victor...

Who doesn’t love drunk MLQC boys? And this is my first headcanon with Shaw, so hope I got his character right! I changed the scenario a bit to better fit the boys’ personalities! Hope you don’t mind!

MLQC Headcanon - Overestimated Yourself

Victor

He’s a true connoisseur of fine wines, and actually enjoys small drinks with you

He doesn’t let you drink past 2 glasses (not after what happened on Christmas last year)

“But Victor!”

“No buts. You can take the 2 glasses, or you don’t”

He swiftly ignores your attempt at pinching his nose (he pinches yours, instead)

“Dummy”

Fine. You want some wine? I’ll give you some wine.

You ask the waiter to bring out the bottle with the strongest percentage (he nervously glances at Victor, who seems entirely amused with this situation)

“Ri-right away” (poor guy)

You anxiously watch Victor as he takes a sip of the new wine, your phone out and ready to record his expression

Nothing.

NOTHING

No change in expression whatsoever

It’s official. He’s a monster

He looks at your face, pouty with your lips out, and smirks before taking another sip

A few hours have passed, and he’s still drinking (from the strong bottle, even!)

Your chances of getting him drunk are close to zero, and you sigh in defeat

The waiter comes by with the bill, to which Victor returns with his card

Hmm?

“Victor?” (he looks at you like nothing is wrong, but you and the waiter’s faces beg to differ)

He turns his head to the card he’s holding (it’s his business card)

..........

You can’t help but burst out laughing at this adorable mistake

“Victor, (you’re still recovering from laughing too hard) are you drunk?”

His expression doesn’t seem to change (but that’s in the eyes of normal people)

In your eyes, you can tell that he’s lost his usual composure

He did, after all, drink more than he usually would

You can’t stop smiling even as he hands the waiter the correct card

As the two of you are walking to the car (with a driver, of course, no drunk driving) he puts his hand on your shoulder

You can sense a change in the atmosphere temperature

“I want a new proposal idea on my desk by next week” (your mouth opens wide and you can’t believe what you just heard)

It’s official. He’s a monster

Kiro

As a superstar, he and his team often go on company dinners after a successful promotion

And that includes drinks (he’s usually the one to buy it, because he just likes to)

Kiro’s constantly offered drinks by everyone around the table

He can’t take in alcohol to save his life (one shot, and he’s soon dancing on the table)

So he figured out a way to avoid having to accept any more

“Kiro, let me pour you a glass”

“Oh? I guess it’s my turn cook the meat now!”

“Take this special drink I made. It’s a mix of beer and soju”

“Savin really likes that, so you should give it to him!” (Savin has built up a high tolerance because of this)

But whenever he’s at home with you on a special day, he likes having a few drinks

The only problem is, he gets so clingy when he’s drunk

“MC, I love you so much”

“Can I braid your hair?”

“Hey! Stop getting so close to her!” (he’s fighting with a fork)

“MC, did you know otters hold hands so they don’t drift apart? (he holds your hand and takes it next to his heart) Now we’ll be together forever!”

Why is he so precious?

It’s cute for the first few minutes, but it gets a little tiring after a few hours

“Kiro, how about we play a game?”

“What game?” (his eyes are shining)

“Whoever can fall asleep the fastest wins! But you can’t say anything, or you lose right away!” (....this is what you do with the kids at the orphanage)

He mouths ‘okay’ and immediately lies on the couch with his hands folded together on his stomach

You look at him trying so hard to not open his eyes, and nearly let out a laugh (you’re still playing a game)

Meanwhile, he has his ears perked to catch you talking

After you’re done cleaning up after dinner, you return to the couch and notice Kiro’s arm is dangling off the edge

I guess we have a winner now (you quietly tiptoe to his side, kiss him on the cheek, and grab a blanket to cover him with)

He hasn’t had much sleep in a while, especially with his new song about to come out

At least he’ll be able to drift off for a few hours

“Good night, Kiro”

As you go to the kitchen to finish putting away the plates, he slowly opens his eyes and smiles at the sight of you (you had your back to him, so you would’ve never thought that he was awake)

He closes his eyes once more, happily content with knowing you’re next to him

“Good night, MC”

Lucien

You can never tell when he’s drunk or not

But he definitely can tell when you are (that’s what makes this so frustrating)

It seems he always catches you at your worst moments

Of course, he ensures you that everything you do is adorable (but that’s not the answer you want to hear)

Determined to see his drunk side, you invite him over for a dinner

You emphasize that you’ll prepare the best wine you can offer (at least with your budget)

A couple glasses of wine in, and you’re already starting to lose focus

Lucien doesn’t even change faces as he refills both of your glasses

“Don’t drink too much, MC (you’re giving him a pouty face)”

“Hmmph! Says the person who’s on his 5th glass”

He laughs at your timid remark, adding on to his list of MC’s drinking habits

The first one on the list is you trying to enter Lucien’s home with your own door passcode (he always loves watching you get frustrated through the *door monitor on the wall)

After a few hours have passed, you just decide to give up

He’s never gonna get drunk, who am I kidding?

Your head has cleared up a little (because you stopped accepting his refills)

Lucien, on the other hand, seems too quiet

He’s quiet, but not THIS quiet

It’s been a while since he said anything, so you’re worried (he has mentioned how he’s been feeling a little stressed lately)

“Lucien..?”

You lightly tapped his shoulder, and he responded by meeting his eyes with yours

He still didn’t say anything, but you notice his face is brushed with pink

“....! Lucien? Are you drunk?”

“Haha.....it appears so....” (why is he still so elegant when drunk)

He gets up to help you clear the table, but is a little wobbly on his feet

“Woah, Lucien! (he’s leaning on your shoulders) Why don’t you go home and get some rest?”

You walk him to his apartment (it’s like 10 steps) and as you’re about to turn around to leave, he lightly taps your shoulder

“Lucien?”

“MC? When did you get here?” (is this a habit, too???)

Gavin

Birdcop doesn’t usually drink, because he’ll need to be on alert at all times

“But it’s your resting day tomorrow! You can afford to lay back sometimes” (you’re handing him a beer can, cold from the fridge)

He looks at your enthusiastic expression, quickly decides that he can’t win against you, and sighs in acceptance

He’s just hoping that nothing bad happens during this drinking fest (because he can’t protect you 100% when he’s drunk)

Luckily, the night passes on without much turbulence

Except for that moment when you accidentally knocked over the chair (how does that even happen) while you were walking to get more cans

“Alright, MC (he’s collecting the remainder of beers). Confiscated”

“...! But!”

“No buts. You need to sleep early for work tomorrow”

You grab his to stop him from taking your oasis beers (he jolts a little)

“I already took the day off for tomorrow! So I could spend the entire day with you” (Gavin is being swayed)

In the end, you win (like most times) and your drinking party with Gavin resumes

You can hold your alcohol quite well (due to all the after parties you go to)

But poor Birdcop isn’t (he never tries to build up tolerance, because he doesn’t need to)

He’s out like a night light, and you smile looking at his peaceful face (he deserves a break, more than anyone else)

After you clean up, you snuggle in next to him

Perfectly content with this scenario, you rest your head on his shoulder

Then you hear some mumbling (how cute)

It’s getting late, and he should be heading home now 

But as you get up, he pulls you down towards him (so he’s wrapped around you like a bear)

You try to break free, but he doesn’t train every day for nothing

Instead, you wrap your arms around him the same (falling asleep knowing that you’re protected)

He wakes up in the morning and panics

Shaw

He’s not an alcoholic but he definitely likes drinking

Especially when you’re there to make things interesting for him

He likes watching you act all dumb when you’re drunk (but immediately stands in front of you when you act too chummy with the other customers)

He keeps giving you different types of drinks, just to see how you react

So far, vodka wins by a long shot

He has videos of your drunken self (that he sometimes sends to you whenever you don’t reply to his messages)

But Shaw isn’t the type to get drunk, and both of you know that

So when he called you at 2AM, sounding wasted, it’s no wonder that you were surprised

“Shaw? Do you even know what time it is right now?” (you’re trying to sound annoyed, but holding in your urge to giggle)

“Don’t talk back to me, MC”

In contrast to his cold words, his voice was soft and full of laughter

But a loud crash can be heard over the phone, and thunder booms in the distance

Then, silence

“Shaw? Are you okay?” (no answer)

“Shaw? This isn’t funny!” (at this point, you’re nearly ready to run out that door)

“....alleyway” (the call ends there)

Alleyway.....? Ah, maybe.....

You grab your stuff and quickly go outside, almost out of breath as you run to the alleyway near the neighborhood park (the same one where he first asked you out)

Sure enough he’s there, crouched against the brick wall with his arms in front of him

You walk over to him, forehead beaded with sweat, and say in an exasperated tone

“What the heck, Shaw! Do you know how worried I—”

You’re unable to finish your sentence as you notice the wounds on him

You cup his face to closely look at his cheeks (they’re both covered with marks)

“Who...just who did this to you?”

He doesn’t say anything, and just pulls you closer to him (you catch a whiff of the strong alcohol)

Like always, he doesn’t tell you much (and you know better than to prod at a painful spot)

You just let out a sigh, and gently pat the back of his head (he always relaxes when you do that)

“Tell me everything when you’re ready. I’ll wait for you”

He doesn’t say anything, but his tighter embrace gives you reassurance

(The next day he completely forgets what happened and laughs at you for trying to make things up)

This guy....

*this is what I was imagining when I said the screen on the wall for Lucien’s part

Yeah I don’t know why Shaw’s got so dark (it’s probably because I was replaying the latest chapters)

[kimnjss]

having it all || requested

⇢ pairing: yoonminkook x reader ⇢ fic type: one shot ⇢ genre: angst, violence, mentions of smut. ⇢ word count: 2.4K ⇢ theme: idol!boyfriend, polyamorous relationship ⇢ warnings: mentions of foursomes... no actual smut,  ⇢ synopsis: you reflect on how you managed to find yourself in a relationship with 3/7 of the biggest boy band in the world. ⇢ A/N: hope this reads okay! this was my first time writing anything slightly poly so i was a tad bit nervous! if you don’t like it, i’ll write something else... just leet me know <3

Having three boyfriends wasn't how you imagined your relationship would go. When you heard about throuples you wondered how three people could love each other equally without there being any jealously... it didn't make sense to you.

Yet, little by little, you were being sucked into the polyamorous world and you had to admit you liked it. There was no jealousy, no hard feelings... and you could honestly say that your feelings were split evenly and divided between the three guys in your life.

You met Yoongi first. You had been working at a coffee shop not too far from his recording studio. He had came in to get drinks for the staff and his friends earlier that day and was coming back with his empty cup... claiming he didn't like the coffee he had.

Without missing a beat, you were shooting the question of why he finished the entire 20oz cup if he didn't like it's contents. He couldn't come up with a coherent answer and you refused to make him a new drink.

The tiny dispute caught your managers attention and he was quickly urging you to make a new drink for their special customer. Special customer. Of course this guy was aware of his status, which was why he expected you to jump when he told you too. 

He watched you the entire time you mixed the drink and you didn't miss the chance to scowl each time you two made eye contact. You were handing his drink over and he was apologizing as he took it.

That's when the real reason for his return was being revealed. He expressed how he thought you were cute and wanted to ask you out... but didn't know how so he came up with the messed up coffee lie.

You thought he was cute. A bit flattering and the embarrassed smile on his face made your heart flutter. Yoongi was offering to take you out as a way to make up for getting you in trouble and for being too chicken shit to say something otherwise.

He had told you to meet him at his dorm and two hours after your shift, you were dressed and showered and on your way. You had thought he would be meeting you outside after you told him that you were here.

Not that you'd receive a message from him, inviting you inside. Jimin sat on the couch, head whipping around at the sound of the door opening. A slow grin spread across his lips.

“You're the girl Yoongi's taking out?” You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. Not with Park Jimin staring at you with that intense stare and that sexy grin. He had flirted with you that night, shamelessly and hardly let up when Yoongi was making his way down the stairs asking if you were ready to go.

After that first night you and Yoongi started to see each other regularly. You became close with his friends. And it seemed as if they liked you too. Some more than others. It was obvious that Jimin was attracted to you. He'd flirt and get a bit touchy, but you never thought anything of it.

It had come up in conversation a few times... between you and your boyfriend, of how you'd react in the situation of a threesome with him and Jimin. Each time he'd asked, you'd blush and shrug the question off.

Yet when he was actually, seriously, sitting you down and telling you how Jimin had suggested it... every single one of your nerve endings were on fire. The thought of both of them... at the same time... had your mind reeling.

You agreed, only thinking about how quickly he could set this up. One night, turned into a weekend thing... which turned into a every other day thing and pretty soon Jimin was taking you out on dates too, referring to you as his girlfriend.

Yoongi loved it too so there was no need to protest. As far as everyone else knew, you were only dating Yoongi. Jimin would hang around sometimes, but you were Yoongi's girlfriend.

Things stayed like that for a short while, you were able to keep having two super famous boyfriends a secret and Yoongi and Jimin were able to keep the fact they were both  sharing you a secret from the others.

It excited you, sneaking around with them the way you were. The countless movie nights where you'd be cuddling with Yoongi while Jimin played with you secretly underneath the covers.

You were doing a great job at hiding it. It was Jimin who sucked at keeping secrets. He had skipped out on going out to eat with the group, claiming he wasn't feeling well. Once the house was empty, he was inviting you over.

It was always hot between you and Jimin. Yeah, there were times where you'd just be together without instantly tearing each other clothes off... tonight wasn't one of those times. You were up in his room, your legs straddling his waist as you grinded down on him trying to bring yourself to another orgasm.

You were just barely realizing the swing of the door, the shocked gasp from Jungkook being what caught your attention. Being quick with rolling off of your boyfriend and covering your body with the blankets.

He instantly began scolding his hyung, assuming that you were cheating on Yoongi with him. It took a little while to convince the younger that this was an arrangement that you had, that nobody was cheating and when he left the room he was more intrigued than you thought.

It wasn't until a few weeks later that Yoongi was pulling you aside, revealing how attracted to you Jungkook was. How fond of you. How much he liked it when you showed interest in the things he liked. How you made him laugh. How badly he wanted to be let in this relationship set up you had.

Yoongi seemed... into it? And you were very into making Yoongi happy so you agreed. Plus it would be a lie if you never thought at least once about how attractive the younger boy was.

The first night the four of you spent together was... messy and a little awkward, but after that things just happened to click. You spent time with all of them and quickly started to fall for them. They made you happy and you did the same for them.

It did start to get hard... keeping it from every one. A few weeks after adding Jungkook into the mix, you were sitting down with the members and telling them everything that was going on. It was funny how they had already kinda knew, perhaps you weren't as good as keeping it a secret as you thought.

You were relieved, not having to sneak around with Jimin and Jungkook and being able to be open with your three boyfriends the way you wanted to be. At least the best you could while keeping it hidden from their fans.

That was getting harder these days. People were starting to notice, you were showing up in too many common places. You were seen hanging around too close, too many times that they labeled you as a sasaeng.

The day the hashtags and trends folded your twitter was probably one of you worst days. Your personal information was being leaked, people threatening you trying to force you to leave the boys alone... you didn't know how to deal with it.

Neither did your boyfriends. It was Joon who came up with the idea to go public, claiming ARMY would understand and be on your side. They only wanted to protect the boys, that's why they were treating you that way... if they saw that you were someone that made them happy it would be a different story.

And he was right, for the most part. The day Yoongi announced your relationship (leaving out the big detail that it involved more than just you two), people were encouraging you, cheering you on. Yeah, there were still that small percentage of people who were against it... but hearing how much Yoongi cared about and liked you seemed to calm them down.

It was days after that. Jungkook knew you had been stressed and wanted to do something to ease your mind. They had a few days off and he wanted to take you on a trip. Everything was booked and ready, all you had to do was meet him at the airport.

You were excited. Never having been to Rome before. A mental list of all the places you wanted to see, pictures you wanted to take, food you wanted to try and Jungkook was excited to share those moments with you.

Rolling your heavy suitcase behind you, you headed toward the check in station. It felt as if you were in a spy movie what with your all black attire, face mask and big glasses. You just didn't want to be spotted and now that you thought of it, dressing like this only made you stick out more.

“Hey, isn't that Yn?” You heard from beside you, but you kept your head down, fingers pushing against the screen as you tried to get your boarding pass to print. “Yeah, that has to be her!” The sound of the machine printing calmed you.

However only for a second before you were being knocked off of your feet. You tried to dodge the slaps, the kicks, the tugs of hair but there were just so many. Just  barely being able to make out the shouted words: 'slut' 'whore' 'bitch'. Nothing that you truly were.

It was security who pulled the girls from your body, your eyes teary and cheeks red. You didn't even have the chance to fight back, the attack had shocked you. “Are you alright?” The gentle hands on your shoulders made you jump, it taking a moment to realize that it was Jungkook standing in front of you.

“No.” You grumbled, blazing eyes staring up at him. “They just attacked me! Why would I be alright? I just want to go home.” He nodded, wrapping an arm around your waist as he led you out.

You wished he wouldn't do that. It was like you could hear the flash of cameras behind you. No doubt they knew he was going to be here and then seeing you? Any one could put two and two together.

It looked like you were cheating on Yoongi... with his band mate, meeting him at the airport to go on some romantic getaway. Now leaving wrapped up in his arms as you cried, face bruised and probably swollen.

He didn't let you go, though. Helped you in the car and held you close the entire drive back to the dorm. He must've told the guys, because Taehyung and Joon stood at the sound of the door, rushing to see if you were alright.

You simply nodded, not really feeling like saying anything. It wasn't even as if they hurt you that bad, it was just the fact that they felt the need to jump you like that. What had you even done to them?

You were leaving to go lay in Yoongi's room without a word. He sat on the edge of his bed, fingers mussing up his honey locks. His head snapped up to look at you, relief washing over his face as he stood.

“Jungkook told me what happened... come here,” His arms spread and you were glad he hadn't asked you if you were alright. You let yourself be enveloped in his embrace, fresh tears falling as he held you close.

“I didn't know it was going to be like this... I'm so sorry, yn.” And you hated that he was blaming himself. You hated that he felt like this was his fault, because it wasn't. You tried to tell him that, but you couldn't make the words form... just more tears flowing.

“Go and lay down. I'm going to get something for you to eat,” You were nodding, wiping at your tears as you into his bed. He was gone for a few minutes before Jimin was entering. He looked sad and you didn't have to ask why.

Jimin smiled softly when he saw you, quickly moving to push your hair from your face. Before sinking down in the bed beside you. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as he placed soft kisses to the top of your head.

These boys knew you. Knew how to make you feel better when you were upset. Knew what to say, knew what to do, knew how to take care of you. “Do you want me to put something on for you to watch?”

“Yes please,” You smiled, arms circling around his waist. Jungkook was entering just as Jimin was pressing play, phone in hand.

“Apparently one of those girls was a sasaeng. She was there with her friends and was sort of behind the whole thing,” He explained, sinking down in the space beside you. “It's up to you if you want to press charges since it was an assault.” Just nodding, you turned so you could be close to him.

You didn't want to think about that now. “I'm sorry I ruined our trip.” You pouted and he smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your pout. “Don't worry, this is nice too.” He assured you.

Jimin was moving closer, peppering soft kisses against the side of your face. “I like this better too,” You laughed, fingers finding his hair and brushing through the soft strands. Yoongi was entering, a roll of his eye as he caught sight of you three.

“Make room for me on my own bed, please and thanks.” He laughed, stepping further in. Jimin moved as Yoongi kicked the door closed with your foot. He handed you the sandwich he had prepared before slipping in the space between you and Jimin.

You felt warm. Happy. Despite what had just happened, you were okay. Being around them, how attentive they were being, how much they wanted to just make you happy... it was enough for everything to be okay. It was going to be fine.

Finishing your food, you turned on your side to wrap both arms around Yoongi. He smiled at you an arm going around your shoulders as he concentrated on the television. Jungkook laughed behind you at something that was being said, Jimin snorting out a laugh just seconds later.

Everything was going to be fine. You had them and they had you. No matter what everything was going to be okay.

[wedreamedlove]

Into Your World [Xu Mo Character Study]

I'm back with another post that's been rattling around in my brain, except it's a bit disconnected. However, there's been a theme that I've wanted to focus in on with Xu Mo: each other's worlds, their dreams (goals and/or fancies), and water imagery.

Contains spoilers for Chapter 24 and unreleased dates in ENG.

First, I want to give a disclaimer that MC is pretty much the only person who can get into the mens' inner worlds, and that's why they're the romantic main characters; but there's just something a little poignant with Xu Mo because of his archetype.

Li Zeyan's archetype makes him belong to another world because of his wealthy background and social status. Zhou Qiluo's archetype makes him belong to another world because it's the dark side of humanity, and he actively tries to keep MC away from that. Bai Qi's archetype is how they're already in the same world and they just need to open up to each other LOL he's the guy next door.

However, Xu Mo's archetype is literally the alienated genius [Official Life History] since he was a child and, after he lost his parents, he just threw himself into his studies and goals and didn't bother making connections with anyone.

Xu Mo: Mm, I graduated early.

Xu Mo's tone was normal, as if it were a matter unrelated to him and there was no sense of pride at all. However, it still made people impressed.

MC: So, when you were in high school, you spent all your time studying?

Xu Mo: At that time, yes.

MC: Why?

Xu Mo: Silly, why are there so many why's? It's just like when you were going to take your entrance exams, there were things I also needed to do.

[Blossom Date - CN Translation]

Heck, even now, MC is the only one he replies to in his Moments [Official Character Profile].

Since the moment we meet him, he takes on the "mentor" role and teaches MC about things. She mentions this all the time, about how he teaches her the laws of the world, etc. Xu Mo is innately part of another world because the realm of geniuses is not supposed to be understood.

However, this isn't a one-way street. Just as we can't understand them, they can't understand us. So, as MC makes an effort to understand Xu Mo, he is also making an effort to understand her.

IMO this is what makes the following interactions extremely tender and romantic.

MC: The white noise you recommended last time was really effective! Lately, my work efficiency has gone up!

Xu Mo: That's good.

Xu Mo: But, instead of your work efficiency, I hope it was useful for your sleeping problem.

MC: Recently, I listen to the sound of rain before sleeping. It feels like everything around me gets quiet when I relax and listen to it.

Xu Mo: It seems like our preferences are the same. I also like to listen to the rain when I'm relaxing.

Xu Mo: The sound of rain droplets striking the roof is calming, isn't it?

MC: It's great collecting only the sounds you like and then completely entering your own world.

Xu Mo: Then, will you also let me hear those sounds?

Xu Mo: I'd like to hear your world.

By the way, given the timeline of this conversation, this is an incredible foreshadowing of his [Nightmare ASMR].

One time, when I was studying in England, I spent months finishing a particularly tricky piece of my dissertation. After I sent it through the mail, it was already nine in the morning. I was a bit tired and planned on sleeping. The weather in England is often rainy, so it was also raining that morning and it was dark. The sound of the rain striking the windowsill was clear and it sounded soothing too.

Then, there was the sound of a piano from below. It was Chopin’s Nocturne, and played very well. Every note mixed in with the sound of the rain… unhurried drops, pitter-pattering. All was quiet, as if I was separated from the world. I stared at the curtains that were being lifted by the wind and, before I knew it, I fell asleep.

[...]

Although I don’t remember it at all anymore, I dimly feel that when I was small I also experienced a night like this. The sound of the rain, the sound of the piano… Outside the window, it’s very, very cold. I can hear the sound of the wind striking the window. And in my half-awake and half-asleep state, I’m put into a warm embrace… Closing my eyes like this… I’m able to sink into a deep, deep sleep… Just like… this right now…

[Fastened Door to the Heart]

MC: From time to time, I just want to go to your world and take a look.

Caption: Actually, I'd rather go to your world and take a look.

So, anyway, going back to the theme of entering each other's inner worlds. You can see it explicitly said here in the Reading Date. They basically exchanged reading material because she wants to understand him, with his complicated science book, and he wants to understand her, with the comics she read when she was young.

Okay, now we're going to switch tracks for a bit and this might seem disconnected (I warned you!), but take my hand because I'm definitely trying to go somewhere with this.

Part of understanding someone's world is learning about their inner thoughts, their dreams, their wishes, their fantasies, however silly or childish or abstract all of these can be.

This is also an incredibly huge point with Xu Mo because, through MC, we're supposed to feel a sense of pressure from such an accomplished scholar character, but he always works hard to diminish that sense of intimidation and presence [Xu Mo's EQ Character Study] and he never demeans her interests or makes her feel lesser for her intelligence.

Xu Mo: Either way, there must be something that only you can create.

MC: Something only I can make... Ah, I know!

Getting an idea, I divided the batter in my hands into two and made a fish and a wing.

I tried combining the two, but something felt missing.

Xu Mo, who came to my side at some point, took a spoon and used it to make scales on the back of the fish.

Xu Mo: Don't you think it looks more like one with this?

Xu Mo: Can you tell me why you thought of this?

MC: ... You won't laugh when you hear it?

Xu Mo: I think it depends on what you tell me.

MC: Then I won't tell you!

Xu Mo: I'm kidding. Will you tell me?

I didn't have anywhere to run when he looked at me and so, cornered, I told him a childish thought that I had never told anyone up to now.

MC: When I was small and I heard the story of Qixi, I thought the Milky Way was a real river with water running through it.

MC: So I ended up worrying over whether the swallows would have an accident, fall into the water, and drown...

MC: I thought that'd be sad for the swallows and so I lied to myself the entire time.

MC: That the ones who made the bridge for the weaver girl and cowherd where flying fish.

I moved the flat fish with its wing in front of him while I spoke, making it fly clumsily.

Xu Mo burst out laughing, as if he wasn't able to hold it back. My face turned bright red from the embarrassment and I returned the fish to the desk.

MC: It's really stupid, isn't it...

Xu Mo: Silly girl, you have batter on your face.

He wiped my face with the pad of his finger. There was a smile that he couldn't suppress on his mouth.

MC revealed her inner child to him, which she had never told anyone else, and he doesn't judge her for it. Please tell me you can feel the tenderness radiating out of this interaction!

Now, although the above interaction was Qixi-themed, I still find it intriguing that she replaced the swallows with (flying) fish. Because Xu Mo is all about water imagery [Xu Mo Character Study] and this appears in their next interaction below.

[Sonnet In The Eyes] "It looks like I'll be inside your most beautiful dream for certain."

I'm not going to do line quotes here because it's too long LOL but in this date, Spring Morning, they end up having a conversation about dreams and, one time when Xu Mo dozed off in his lab, he dreamed that he was a fish.

His surroundings were dark and he couldn't see the state of the water but, with a thought, he could swim a long distance. When he opened his mouth, only bubbles would come out. When he raised his head, he would see the light filtering through the waves. Sometimes, he would hear the chirps of birds transmitted through surface of the lake.

He knew he was dreaming, because he's a light sleeper, but he still observed how the wind seemed to blow above the lake and that it was the height of summer. Maybe, when it got dark, he'd be able to see the stars and fireflies. He thought about asking another fish for directions but he couldn't find anyone around him. Then he woke up.

At that time, he had run into problems in his work and, even after half a year, there was no progress. In his dream, he rashly thought that if he really was a fish then he wouldn't need to work. But, after he woke up, he suddenly had a flash of inspiration. Later, he concluded that this dream was able to let him relax a little, set his mind blank, and that's when he could get back to work.

Look at him tell MC about his dreams, reveal his struggles, and reveal his inner thoughts. He's telling her about the time when, even someone like him, met with difficulties and felt the urge to just throw it all out and give up. He's letting her into his world and that's love, baby!

Psst, don't forget about the water imagery with him being a fish.

[Flowers on the Path] "I thought it over a thousand times, and then there came a reply."

Xu Mo: Are you home already? I saw the photo you sent me.

MC: Mhm, I just got home.

Xu Mo: Lately, you've been sending me photos of clouds. Is there any special meaning behind them?

MC: Not really. I just wanted to share with Professor Xu, who is always cooped up in his lab, a good way to reduce stress.

Xu Mo: Oh? What is it?

MC: First, look at the picture.

Xu Mo: Mm, I'm looking.

MC: Then close your eyes and imagine yourself as that cloud. Tell me, what do you see?

Xu Mo: I seem... to only see pitch darkness?

MC: Pfff, I mean you can use your imagination. For example... what sights you see and what you feel.

Xu Mo: Alright, I see... a clear sky and bright sunlight. Sometimes... birds will fly past.

MC: Will they say hello to you?

Xu Mo: They'll slow down and roll around on me, frolicking.

MC: Haha, and then?

Xu Mo: And then I'll drift around leisurely like this until I see another cloud. Although it's our first meeting, I'll feel like I've known her since a long time ago.

MC: Maybe she feels the same way.

Xu Mo: So we'll click immediately and slowly lean against each other.

MC: Hahaha, as expected of our Professor Xu! Your imagination is so rich.

Xu Mo: This method really is effective and it can let me clear out my mind. After resting for a while, even my feelings are much calmer.

MC: Oh! Then Professor Xu will have two methods of relieving stress now.

Xu Mo: Two?

MC: Yup, during the day, you can look at the sky and imagine yourself as a free floating "cloud"; at night, in your dreams, you can be a "fish" swimming in the great sea with no restraints. Like this, regardless of whether it's day or night, you can say goodbye to your worries.

Xu Mo: Haha, I have to go up into the sky and then down into the water. Why do I feel like I'm even busier?

MC: Hahaha, that's true.

Xu Mo: However, compared to these, I have another method which I like even more.

MC: Oh? What is it?

Xu Mo: It's staying beside "another cloud" or "another fish". Even if we don't do anything, it can get rid of an entire day's worth of exhaustion and I'll be able to get a good rest. May I ask what she thinks about this method?

[Reducing Stress - Call]

Callbacks. I love PG's callbacks so much.

But, linking this back to everything, they're both exercising their imagination together and it shows their inner world more to each other. Not to mention, they literally bring back how he once dreamed about being a fish to escape the stress of his work.

Now, I'm changing gears again, but this time I want to talk about the physical world they're both in and how their different philosophies set them on opposite sides. I wrote about the [Use of Horror in Ch19 Study] and how, in that chapter, you can see her greatest fears manifested in what Ares does there, but also what she resolves herself to do.

They literally walk away from each other because, according to Xu Mo, their "destinations" were different from the very beginning.

However, when we get to Chapter 24...

MC: ... What if the future we both want is different? I might become your obstacle.

Xu Mo: Right now isn't the time to come to a conclusion.

Xu Mo: Reality will inevitably have pain. However, to run away from reality because of that will just lead to more regret.

Xu Mo: I'm certain the future you wish for will be beautiful and it'll be able to touch anyone's heart.

Xu Mo: You're going to take me to that sort of future. Right?

MC: ... Yes!

MC: But after the worlds become one, even if I fail then I won't be able to do things over again. If that happens...

Xu Mo: Everything will end.

Xu Mo: But that's the path you chose, right? I believe in your choice.

Xu Mo: This time, I'll follow behind you.

He had always been walking in front of me, but now he was entrusting himself to the choice I believed in.

I made my decision.

MC: Follow me closely then.

Xu Mo grabbed my hand and lightly swung it.

Xu Mo: Is this good?

My cheeks burned and I spoke incoherently.

MC: Then... don't ever let go!

Xu Mo: Mm, I'm holding on tightly.

He showed a gentle smile that was like the sunlight of spring.

Before I knew it, our fingers intertwined and it was like we exchanged a quiet promise.

I looked at our joined hands and something hot suddenly welled up in my heart.

In this immense space-time, there were countless obstacles stretched ahead of us. For a long time, we both walked with our backs to each other.

There were still unsolved mysteries between us, but now I felt like I could face anything.

This time it was my turn to pull his hand and run towards that spring without stopping.

That's love! This is love! He loves her so much!

From the beginning, Xu Mo and MC were people in different worlds (their innate nature and their philosophies) but, throughout their relationship, they both keep making efforts to understand each other and enter each other's inner worlds.

It literally culminates here in Xu Mo willing to set down his beliefs and follow hers. He's trusting in her vision of the future and that's basically a proposal from someone like him.

I literally don't have anything else to say without devolving into sappy poetry or romantic lines or something, but these two have laid their souls bare to each other and accepted every side of the other person, regardless of how alien, childish, vicious, ugly, or weird it can be. Literally, "If we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known."

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Deathless Gods

Part 2 to Hades and Persephone 

Thank you to everyone who enjoyed the first part. I really had a lovely time writing this so I appreciate everyone who liked it!

Alfie never kept a steady appointment with Rachel at the bookstore although he made sure never to go more than a week without seeing her. He came and went as he pleased. However, he knew her work schedule enough to only go to the shop when she was there. He had a feeling her father wouldn’t be keen to know Alfie Solomons was chasing after his daughter.

            Not that Rachel was running away from Alfie in any way, much the opposite in fact. He noticed that when he came into the shop, a smile always formed on her face. Soon he found himself returning the favor.

            If she was helping a customer, Alfie strolled around the shop, glancing at a few books even if he wasn’t interested in finding anything. When she was free to talk, he pulled up the chair that had become unofficially his. It was a chair that Rachel had brought down to the shop so she could reach things without having to drag the ladder around. But it was now Alfie’s.

            He’d bring in the book that Rachel had recommended he read so he could discuss any qualms he had about it. That’s what he seemed to like to do best. Rarely did he tell her about any passages that he liked. He waited until she showed him her favorite lines. Then he secretly reveled when they shared favorite passages.

            He had long finished the collection of myths that had begun their relationship. Though it certainly held a special place in his apartment. In his sparsely decorated room, usually, the only things on his nightstand was a lamp and his glasses. But now, the book of myths sat beside the lamp.

            Every time they met, Rachel made Alfie fall more and more for her. Every little thing she did or said enchanted him. He just didn’t know that she was realizing the same thing.

            Rachel felt as though she was turning the page every time Alfie stepped into her shop. What was once some myth entering through the door, he was now just a man. Every visit, she read more about him, diving deeper into his story.

            Of course, he wasn’t very forthcoming about himself. He merely made little slips that gave her hints into his world. Some of them weren’t even verbal. The persistent smell of rum, though he said he never drank. His affection for Cyril. The scar on his cheek. The weary lines on his face. It was like sitting at a museum and studying a very detailed portrait. Every other second, she was finding something new about him.

 ~~~~~~~~

            “Did you know that they’re calling us the Lost Generation?” Rachel asked when their conversation about Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises dried up.

            “That so?” Alfie checked his pocket watch, not at all surprised they had been chatting for two hours. Time flew by so fast with Rachel. One time he’d spent nearly four hours in the bookshop, consequently missing two meetings. Instead of fretting, he simply blamed Ollie for mixing up his schedule. “Why’s that?”

            “Because of the war.” She smiled down at Alfie’s bull mastiff when he nudged her hand.

            Cyril had taken a shine to Rachel. Early on, he would sit obediently by Alfie as they talked. But over time, he inched toward Rachel until he was lying down at her feet, waiting for a pat.

            “Huh. Don’t feel lost.” He pocketed his watch again and tipped back in his chair, casually leaning back.

            “I suppose it’s more of a…sense of confusion. What do we do after something like the war?” She tilted forward so she could scratch behind Cyril’s ears.

            He frowned. “What do you mean? Ain’t nothing else to do but move on. It’s over with.” He concluded with certainty.

            But Rachel wasn’t so sure. “I was reading in the newspaper about men who are still suffering. Men who were in the war who can’t seem to forget it. I guess that’s what I mean about being lost. They don’t know what to do with the things they saw over there. And, I suppose people who were here don’t know how to help them. Because we never experienced the things you did.” She tried to capture Alfie’s eyes but he was trying to look busy with cleaning his half-moon glasses.

            “Nothing to help.” He replied curtly.

            Rachel bit her lip and knew she was taking a risk. “The article talked about nightmares.” Her forehead wrinkled with concern.

            He let out a little huff of disgruntlement. “Why’re you going on ‘bout this, Rachel?” He asked.

            “I just wanted to know what you thought about it.” She tried to defend herself even if she had been prying a bit more than she usually did.

            Alfie ran a hand over his face. He wanted to storm out, avoid any conversation she was trying to strike up about nightmares. Memories of the war. Things he could perfectly avoid because no one dared ask him.

            Yet, no one looked at him the way Rachel did. No one smiled at him like she did. Laughed at his jokes. No one saw the humanity in him the way she did.

            And even if he left and never returned, he would never be able to get her out of his head.

            “Why do you care? Aye?” He asked harshly. The conflict inside of him was stirring up anger that he was trying to keep from her.

            Rachel saw the pain in his eyes. He sounded angry but she knew better. It was like a wounded animal biting the person trying to heal them. He was only trying to protect himself.

            “Because, I’m very fond of you, Alfie, and I care about you!” She replied firmly so he wouldn’t mistake her intent.

            He finally looked up at her.

            She let the words sink in for a bit before she continued. “Because I know that you make yourself out to be an evil man, but you’re not. You’re scared of something, just like everyone is. You aren’t heartless.”

            Alfie’s conscious was urging him to get up and leave. Who was he to walk into this woman’s life and cause whatever sort of hell he might cause? Even if it was unintentional. The bookshop was like a little bubble, blocking out the rest of the world. But it didn’t matter, he was still the same man. A man who sinned, lied, robbed, and killed. He couldn’t delude himself to think he was any different because of how Rachel might see him.

            But he couldn’t budge from the chair.

            “Alfie, if you’re alone, just tell me. I enjoy your company and I-I would be there for you.” Rachel confessed something deep from within. Although she adored her time with Alfie in the shop, it was never enough. She always wanted him to stay a bit longer. She wanted to see him outside of the shop. She wanted to see him in the real world. She wanted to see every part of him.

            “That’s the problem, innit?”

            “I don’t understand.”

            “Love, men like me aren’t meant to have women like you in me life.” He responded steadily. “Just like that fucking myth. Hades never deserved Persephone, now did he? Just a miserable fucker who took what he wanted and didn’t care what anyone else thought. We can talk ‘bout books all day long but my life ain’t anything you’ll get used to. Not a life you should know.”

            “You don’t know that,” Rachel replied stubbornly. “I don’t care what you’ve done, Alfie. I know who you are!”

            “That’s the problem, Rachel. You don’t care. You’re willing to make excuses for me when there ain’t any excuses.” He pointed to the door. “Your neighbors, yeah? You know their son?”

            Rachel didn’t answer.

            “’ Course you do. Their son works for me. I’m sure you’ve seen him, he’s in a sling now. Why’s that, aye? ‘Cause someone broke his arm. Care to guess who broke his fucking arm? How are you going to excuse that?”

            Tears began to form in her eyes as she shook her head. She didn’t want to hear what he was saying.

            “When I walk down the street, what do you think people think, aye? Do you think they think the way you do? Or do they think I’m the fucking devil?”

            “Just stop.” She lowered her head, not wanting him to see her cry.

            Alfie’s shoulders fell as his anger cooled down. He heard a small sniffle from Rachel and he felt his heart shatter. It was everything he feared. A self-fulfilling prophecy, as it were. He was afraid he was going to ruin her life, so he did it just to prove himself right. Just to prove to himself that he wasn’t meant to have people like her. She was unattainable and rightfully so. Such a lovely woman deserved to be with someone lovely too. A man like him deserved loneliness.

            He reached into his pocket and took out a handkerchief. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled as he held it out to her.

            Rachel took it to wipe her eyes. “There’s nothing for you to apologize for. I should have realized I was being foolish.”

            “You’re not-you ain’t done nothing wrong, love.” He assured her. “I just-I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t know what to say to make you understand.”

            “Just tell me. You know what to say, you just have to tell me.” She urged.

            He couldn’t look away from her. Fierce hatred for himself drove deep knowing he had made her cry. But his heart wouldn’t let him leave. He needed her.

            “The first time I got a proper bath after the war ended, it took hours before I felt clean. Even then, I really didn’t feel right. I couldn’t quite scrub all the dirt off. The mud from the trenches, right, it just…it permeated every bit of me. I couldn’t get it all out. Even if I didn’t see any dirt, it just…I knew it was there. So, I figured, yeah, if I ain’t ever able to leave the battlefield then might s’well embrace it. I’d make London a warzone because that’s what felt right. It makes the nightmares feel more…seamless, I s’pose. If I fight all day then it don’t bother me as much if I have nightmares ‘bout the war.”

            “I don’t understand how you could be unbothered by them. It must be awful.” Rachel realized Alfie wasn’t the type of man who afforded himself any time for grieving or sympathy. He didn’t pity himself because he didn’t think he should be pitied.

            Alfie stared at her a bit blankly. It was awful. They were awful. The war in London was nothing compared to the things he revisited at night. He didn’t have nightmares about Camden Town. He had nightmares about France. He woke up in a cold sweat because he thought he was back in the trenches. Shin-deep in mud and dead bodies. It was so vivid.

            “Alfie?” Rachel coaxed him out of his stupor.

            “Sorry.” He said in a quiet voice. “Just…I dunno.” He felt lost.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

            Rachel didn’t expect Alfie to return. She was right. He didn’t.

            Two weeks passed without any word from him. With each passing day, she became more and more saddened, worried that she had chased off the only person she truly had feelings for.

            Every time the bell above the door jingled, her heart leapt in her chest, hoping it was Alfie. But it never was.

            She felt empty inside.

~~~~~~~~~           

            Then, one blustery day, a man in an apron delivered a letter to her. He didn’t say anything, just saying he was supposed to give this to her. Then he left.

            Confused, Rachel opened the envelope which was addressed to her.

             Rachel,

I’m sorry for my absence but I’ve had an accident and needed to be in the hospital for a bit. If you’d like, I’ll be sending a car around the shop to pick you up Saturday at eight in the morning. The driver will bring you to my place in Margate where I’m recovering. There, I can explain more. If not, tell the driver you’re not going and he’ll tell me in turn.

            Hope to see you soon,

            Alfie

~~~~~~~ 

            Rachel was outside the shop when eight rolled around that Saturday morning. Almost on the dot, a car pulled up and a young man came out to greet her.

            “Miss Watkins? Mr. Solomons sent me to bring you to Margate if you wanted.”

            “Yes, thank you.” She nodded and got into the car.

            On the way to Margate, she and the driver chatted casually. But he wouldn’t say anything about what happened to Alfie. He said he was specifically told to let Alfie explain everything. So Rachel was left wondering the long drive to the beach town.

 ~~~~~~~

            The large house on the bluff was quintessentially Alfie. The garden wasn’t very well-kept but it wasn’t overgrown either. The house seemed to be in good condition and yet there was a sort of sadness lingering over it.

            Alfie hadn’t mentioned his place in Margate before. But he did mention how fond of the ocean he was.

            Rachel went to knock on the door and heard Cyril start to bark in response.

            The door opened and a middle-aged woman greeted her. “You must be Miss Watkins.”

            “Yes, is Alfie in?”

            “Come in, he’s in the sitting room.” She let Rachel in and offered to take her coat before showing her to the sitting room.

            Cyril happily greeted Rachel but she was a bit distracted. Alfie was sitting in an armchair, turned to the balcony, watching ships pass by.

            “Alfie?”

            He turned and she gasped.

            He sighed and stood up. “I know, I know. I should’ve warned ya but I-dunno, couldn’t find the words.”

            Rachel felt her eyes prick with tears when she saw the state his face was in. Fresh scars scored around his left eye. And his eye had turned from deep turquoise to a cloudy grey. She struggled to find the words. So instead, she rushed to him and embraced him tightly.

            It was a reaction Alfie wasn’t expecting. He was frozen a bit before he wrapped his arms around her.

                       It was awhile before they let each other go. Alfie was afraid to tell her the story of how he ended up in such a state and Rachel was afraid to hear it.

            But eventually, he withdrew his arms from around her and offered her a seat and a handkerchief to wipe her tears.

            “I don’t understand…”

            “Right before I met you, right, I went to the doctor and found out I have skin cancer. I made a plan to divvy up me wealth and go out how I saw fit. Then I met you and…well, I s’pose you changed the plans.” He cleared his throat and scratched his cheek absent-mindedly.

            “Cancer?” Rachel’s eyes widened. There were brief moments where she noticed abnormalities in Alfie’s skin but she didn’t think it was anything serious. For the most part, he kept the condition hidden.

            “I thought I could make the best of life with you but then…after we spoke last, I decided it would be best if I went through with my original plan.” He tried to breathe steadily but the event was still so raw in his mind.

            “What was your original plan?” Rachel hesitated to ask.

            He didn’t meet her gaze.

            “Alfie…please tell me.”

            “I had someone shoot me.” He finally admitted. “Reckoned he was a good ‘nough shot but he-well you can see what sorta job he did.” He waved a hand over his disfigured eye.

            “And what if he hadn’t missed? I was just supposed to find out you were dead?” She asked, horrified the thought had even crossed his mind.

            Looking guilty, Alfie sighed. “M’sorry, love. I felt like I had no other choice. I couldn’t be a part of your life. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

            “So, it’s fair that I would have to grieve you and wonder if it was something I had done?” She retorted.

             “I hadn’t thought about it that way.”

            “Clearly.”

            The grandfather clock in the corner of the room ticked the seconds of their silence.

            Alfie fiddled with the chain of his glasses. “I didn’t want to die that way, just wasting away. But, while I was in the hospital after Tommy shot me, the doctor said I’d been misdiagnosed. It’s just a skin condition.” He let out a bitter laugh. “Think that’s irony or just stupidity?”

            Rachel wasn’t sure what to say. At least she knew he was okay and would be okay in the long run. She couldn’t completely understand his thought process but perhaps he was just in a desperate state. “I’m just thankful you’re still here.” She answered quietly. “That’s all that matters to me.”

            “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He said gently. “Honestly, I just didn’t know what else to do. I never wanted you to suffer.”

            Rachel stood and walked over to him. She knelt in front of him and took his hands in hers. “Can you just accept me into your life? Accept that you deserve happiness?”

            Since he was meant to be dead to most of London, Alfie figured it would be best to retire and stay in Margate. Of course, he assumed that meant he would be leaving Rachel behind in London. And yet, maybe that’s why he sent her the letter. Maybe he didn’t want to leave her behind.

            “Yeah, love.” He lifted her hands and gently kissed her knuckles. “I can do that.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~

            “Papa, read another,” Meg whined and grabbed at the book.

            “No, no, my dear you need to go to bed.”

            Rachel walked down the hall, carrying Cyrus who was only four months old. She turned into her daughter’s room. It was very late, way past her bedtime. But it was a common occurrence in the Solomons’ household. The little girl was, in Alfie’s opinion, just like her mother. She ate up books at an alarming rate for a six-year-old. She’d begun reading much sooner than most kids her age and refused to even get in bed unless her father was there with a book in hand, ready to read to her.

            “But I’m not tired, you need to read more!”

            “We’ve finished the book, princess, there aren’t any more words to read.” He chuckled softly.

            “Meg, it’s time to go to bed. You’ve already stayed a half-hour past your bedtime.” Rachel reminded her from the doorway.

            Her daughter pulled a pout. “But I want more stories!”

            “If you read more stories tonight, you’ll be out of books to read.”

            “What ‘bout this one!” Meg popped up from bed and went to the bookshelf in her room. She stood on her tiptoes to reach the top where a lone book had been placed.

            Alfie looked perplexed when she brought over the book to him. “Where’d you get this, princess, aye?”

            “In yours and mum’s room.” Meg crawled back into bed, pushing the book into his hands.

            Rachel got closer to see what Alfie was holding. She smiled when she recognized the worn collection of myths that had united them all those years ago.

            “Love, this is mum’s book. Not appropriate for you.” He gave it back to Meg to put away.

            But his daughter was just as relentless as he was. She haphazardly flipped through the pages. “Read this, papa, what’s this word?” She shoved the book toward him.

            Alfie sighed and looked to see what she was pointing at. “Orpheus. That’s the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice.” He explained.

            “Read it, papa, please!” Meg begged.

            “Fine, but you’re going to bed after this, miss, no more whining.” Alfie scolded.

            “Okay!”

            Rachel smiled and sat down in the rocking chair near the bed. She cradled Cyrus close to her chest as he slept peacefully.

            Alfie held the book open but didn’t read the words. He knew that if he read right from the book, Meg would be stopping him every sentence asking what a word meant. Plus, he knew the myth well enough to just summarize it for her.

            “Orpheus, right, he was the son of Apollo. Apollo gave him a lyre and Orpheus was well known for his songs. Everyone loved them. One day, he fell in love with Eurydice and they were married. But unfortunately, Eurydice was bitten by a snake and had to go to the underworld.” Alfie did his best to skirt around the death part of the story. He wasn’t quite in the mood to have that discussion with his six-year-old. “Hades ruled the underworld with his wife Persephone. Orpheus was very sad that his wife was trapped in the underworld. He decided, that he would see her again and went down to the underworld, protected by the other gods. He played his lyre for Hades and the god decided to let Eurydice go back to Earth with Orpheus. But he had a condition. Orpheus had to walk ahead of Eurydice, and he couldn’t look back to see if she was still walking behind him. If he looked back before they were home, Eurydice would be stuck in the underworld forever.”

            Meg looked up at her father, bug-eyed and rapt with interest. Just as she always was when he told her stories. “Did he look back, papa?”

            Alfie glanced down at the book before shutting it. “No, princess. He didn’t. They returned home and they lived happily ever after. The end.”

            Meg smiled, finally seeming content. “I like that story, papa.”

            “I’m glad. Now, time for bed.” He got up and kissed her forehead.

            Rachel handed Cyrus to her husband so she could tuck Meg in and kiss her goodnight as well.

            Alfie shut off the light before going to put Cyrus in his cot for the night. Rachel was waiting for him in the bedroom.

            “That’s not how the myth ends.”

            He chuckled, undoing his bracers. “I know. But you know how I feel ‘bout that one. It’s a shit ending.”

            Rachel smiled. “Alfie Solomons, the only man who can rewrite ancient myths to his liking.”

            “Well, I’ve never heard any complaints from you, Mrs. Solomons.” He replied with a grin. “As I recall, you didn’t like the ending to that one either.”

            “Well, I appreciate its message.”

            He scoffed and walked over to the bed where she was sitting. “You’re just saying that. You think it’s shit.”

            Rachel let him lay her back as he lightly peppered kisses down her neck. “Fine, it’s shit.” She grazed her fingernails down the nape of his neck. “I like your ending much better.”

            “Mhm, that’s what I thought.” He murmured lovingly. “You were always a sucker for lovely endings where everything is all nice and happy.”

            “Like our ending?” She gazed into his eyes.

            He smiled and brushed his thumb over her cheekbone. “Ah, love, our story ain’t ended yet. We’ve got lots more chapters left.”

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla​ @giftofdreams​ @biba3434​ @kimmietea​ @karmezii​ @enrapturedbythemoon​ @vampgirl1997​ @tarafaithe​

@fuseburner​ @jmw87​

PB Masterlist

[smilingleoo]

Bts reaction- they fall in love with you while they´re on vacation filming Bon Voyage

Request:  Hello can I make a request where the reader is on vacation in Malta while BTS is there for Bon Voyage s3 and they end up crossing paths with each other (and maybe fall in love🥴)

Author´s Note: Okay this is weird because I was imagining the exact same thing and (being honest) I was dying to write about it. So, you gave me an excuse ;), enjoy!!!!

-------

Rm (Kim Namjoon)

Bts was off to the beach.

Surprisingly, cameras were not with them. They were just enjoying themselves sprawled under the blazing sun. Namjoon sighed some stress away from his system and returned to the towels his friends had laid on the sand. Jimin was half-asleep by the time Namjoon arrived, his head covered by his t-shirt. Jungkook and Taehyung were drowning each other in the sea while Yoongi read a book peacefully under the shadows of an enormous tree. Hoseok was chatting with Jin when Namjoon interrupted them-” What are you talking about?”

“ I was scolding Hoseok for spilling my drink”-Jin laughed-” Now I´ll have to stand up and buy another one”

“ I can go for you”-Namjoon smiled. He was already on his feet and he saw no problem in doing Seokjin a tiny favour. Pleased by his offer, the eldest told Namjoon the beverage he wanted and thanked him with a sincere laugh. He made his way to the humble bar exposed in the middle of the beach and, with outstanding English, ordered what Jin wanted. However, as he watched the man mixing liquids in a metal cup, he heard a melodic giggle beside him.

You were the most charming and intriguing person Namjoon had the pleasure to observe. You were talking with one, he supposed, of your friends as the bartender winked at you cheekily. Something weird swirled in Namjoon´s stomach yet he discarded the thought of him being jealous. After all, he hadn´t even met you-” The lady over there has bought you a drink”-the bartender that had seemed to be flirting with you handed Namjoon your gift and gave you a subtle thumbs-up.

Namjoon decided to swallow his nervousness and approached you in quick strides. Looking calm and collected, he took the seat your friend had left available when she saw him coming-” I think I know you”

“ I get told that a lot”-Namjoon chuckled.

“ If you´re feeling uncomfortable, don´t worry”-you said-” I´m not going to harass or kidnap you. You´re safe”

Namjoon completely forgot about Seokjin´s drink.

Jin (Kim Seokjin)

He was going to bre be ak his neck if he kept on glancing over his shoulder so abruptly.

BTS had decided that they needed a night off, choosing a beautiful restaurant to have dinner in. The place was dimly lit and had a menu with all kinds of exotic dishes. Jungkook´s mouth was already prepared to gobble down anything they served. The eldest would have been like the maknae but something had caught his eye when they had first entered the place. As the waiter guide the seven men to their table, Seokjin´s gaze fell on you. Your friends were making jokes while you waited for your meal, a roar of laughter defeaning his ears. All your friends were quite noisy but he didn´t mind. Now, Seokjin had you behind him and his curious self urged him to glance your way every now and then.

“ I mean, she´s cute”-Jimin cackled-” Now I know why Jin-hyung keeps torturing his neck”

“ What are you saying, Jimin-ah?”-Seokjin tried to sound puzzled but his lips failed him, curving at the simple mention of his obvious crush.

“ If you like her so much, you should talk to her”-Namjoon stepped in-” She has already noticed your constant staring anyway”

Seokjin gulped but refrained from making more comments. He finished his dinner faster than he should have and excused himself to the bathroom when he saw how you did the same from the corner of his eye. He made sure not to look like a creep and, with broken English, asked for your number-” I-I...You...ugh...number?”

You giggled and typed down your number on his phone with your name on it-” I´ll try to use Google Translate to understand Korean, don´t worry”

Suga (MIn Yoongi)

They had just finished filming, even though cameras were still tripping around them. Yoongi was tired; he just wanted to drop himself on a towel and sleep until dinner was ready. Jimin had called him a lazy grandfather and he wasn´t wrong, Yoongi knew how old he could appear to be sometimes.

He opened up the towel, threw his hat away and prepared himself for a comforting nap. However, something caught him off guard. The sound of a soothing guitar flew with the gentle wind, guiding Yoongi towards it. Mid-step forward, someone started singing. It was like a gentle balm on Yoongi´s skin; sweet as the most delicious candy. He suddenly found himself staring at you and your friend, a small crowd gathering around you. Everyone was enjoying the show but your eyes landed on him. Yoongi felt how his heart jolted in his chest excitedly. You dropped your gaze as fast as lightning, recognizing the male idol instantly.

You were a fan of his producing skills and meaningful songs.

Yoongi was so charmed that he couldn´t help himself but to approach you when the song was over-” You are really good”

“ It´s a lot coming from someone as talented as you”-a soft crismon spread across your cheeks and he swore he had already fallen in love.

Jhope (Jung Hoseok)

Bts had gone to a special event tonight.

Professional dancers were performing on the stage in front of their table, swaying their hips and twirling each other in a sort of choreography Hoseok was mesmerized with. He couldn´t explain why but he felt attracted to the dance, feeling the music as it hugged his senses comfortably.

However, all his sanity left his body when the dancers started ushering people on to the stage. From a near table, they picked you up and Hoseok nearly fainted. You were extremely beautiful, with your white dress matching the pretty flower crowned on your head. You giggled as you tried to follow their steps, tossing your arms and legs happily. You had Hobi completely entranced without even noticing-” Here! Here!”-Jungkook waved his hand.

The dancer was quick to walk towards their table, a knowing smirk on her face. She pulled Hoseok and nearly pushed him your way. With a sheepish smile, he laughed and offered you to dance, which you accepted gladly.

Jimin (Park Jimin)

Jimin accepted right away when Taehyung asked him to go for a walk through the beach.

It was a beautiful, hot day. The sun pierced with its warm rays like boiling water on Jimin´s cloth-covered torso as he talked with Taehyung about everything and nothing at the same time. Children played with the puddled sand while their parents watched them from afar, usually reading a book quietly under the soothing shadows. Some people even dashed into the fresh water to reduce the heat in their bodies, splashing tiny drops on their way in. Jimin watched them with a smile until he heard someone screaming from the burning beach-” Y/N, we are ordering some drinks!”

As if summoned, you swam towards the beach. Jimin´s eyes widened as he eyed you from every angle possible. Could you be any more perfect? He seriously doubt it. You were so eager to reach your friend and he was so entranced by your beauty that you collided. Your drenched swimsuit accidentally dampened his white t-shirt, showing off his abdomen. You blushed furiously, averting your gaze. Jimin chuckled at your innocence and decided to introduce himself like he had rehearsed a million times-” Hi, I´m Jimin”

“ I´m-”

“ Y/N!”-your friend called one more time. You glared at her but sighed defeated. Jimin knew he couldn´t let you go without asking for your number. Fortunately, you were more than willing to do so, adding a cute heart besides your contact name in his phone.

V (Kim Taehyung)

He didn´t mean to interrupt for improvised photoshoot.

But he saw your friend struggling with the camera, so he decided to jump in. He thought that your beauty shouldn´t go to waste because of some poorly taken photos. He had to admit that he had more fun than he thought he would. You were so outgoing and open-minded that he just felt like talking to you for hours. Your friend was really interested in his knowledge too, marvelling by all the tiny details Taehyung had to offer. Once you and your friend were satisfied with the amount of photos taken, the moon was starting to claim the sky.

Taehyung seemed reluctant to go and you clearly felt the same way. However, his hyungs would start worrying if he was gone for too long. Therefore, you took his phone and searched for your instagram acount-” So you can see your amazing photos”

Oh, Taehyung had fallen hard.

Jungkook (Jeon Jungkook)

Jungkook was bored.

His hyungs were all taking a nap or reading under the beautiful afternoon sun. He tried to relax and maybe get some extra rest but he just couldn´t stay still. It wasn´t in Jungkook´s nature, although he snored like a truck driver. Besides, how could he close his eyes when you had entered the beach shouting and showing off your natural beauty. His gaze was obnoxiously glued on you and your bright self. Moreover, you were playing beach volley and you were killing it.

Could he fall in love with someone without even meeting them?

Well, he was questioning logic now. In the middle of his crisis, the ball had flown his way landing in front of him. Jungkook froze when you approached, grabbing the object before smiling-” Hey, we need another another player”-you said confidently-” Do you want to play?”

He didn´t need Namjoon to understand what you were asking. With an eager nod, he followed you like a puppy. After running, falling and excesively sweating, both of you decided to relax in the water. Jungkook got to know a lot about you and he was certain that he wanted to keep the conversation going. In an act of spontaneous bravery, he asked were you where staying and if you wanted to hang out.

Obviously, you said yes.

[tarithenurse]

Stolen - 6

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson &/x fem!gifted!reader Content: Angst, threats, magic, feels, illness. A/N: Work was buuuuuusy today, so I can’t be arsed to proof read. You’re just going to have to deal with it, but I’m sure that’s okay, because you’re all amazing and understanding. A very special THANKS to those of you that re-blog. And comment. I see your names and it warms my heart and fuels my wish to write <3

(Image from google ‘cause I’m lazy and couldn’t find a proper GIF)

6. Holy Wood

…   Loki  …

Finally. Ever since the thundering defeat in New York (well, since he fell from the Bifrost), life has offered very little luxury to the man who still considers himself a prince and so being treated like royalty now they have arrived at Alfheim feels like a sweet relief from pain and misery. Leaned back, a glass of the famous, honeyed wine in his hand, Loki is finally able to relax for a moment.

Or...he could have if it wasn’t for the presence of a certain mortal whose nerves are higher strung than Captain Rogers.

He barely has any patient left to restrain himself after [Y/N]’s sixth round of the room.

“Sit down.” Although spoken calmly, she flinches at his request or perhaps the reason is how he pats the seat right next to himself on the couch.

Loki sees her hesitance, sees the warring in her mind. Still, she does as told and barely objects to the arm wrapping around her shoulders and dragging her down to rest against the pillows.

“I’m loathe to tell you this,” Loki whispers confidentially, “yet...although you have sold our little act to the guards you have still to convince me.”

Her breathing stills, smothered by a surge of panic. “I...it’s...I’m tryi-”

“Shhh.” Again, [Y/N] complies with his wish. “Don’t over-complicate this, it really is quite simple. Hmm? By saving one life, you save the lives of those you love. Is that not a noble cause?”

The perfect lips part, still, then close without an answer slipping past. Like a child, the woman is wringing the silk of the long sleeves between her fingers as if the words she so desperately needs will drip from there. Once more, she tries, giving up with a shuddering breath.

My patience is wearing thin. “Tell me.” Simple words with the strength of creeping frost.

“HowcanIknowitwon’tleadt’worse?!” Covering her mouth out of fear more will tumble out, [Y/N] stares at him with wide eyes.

Loki could force her hands away or threaten her to explain herself, instead her gently laces his fingers with hers to grant her the freedom of speech. He can feel her hands shaking, clammy sweat covering the soft palms, and he wishes for a moment that his magic could grant her strength. Am I becoming weak? Shoving the thought aside, the god pins her with a gaze.

“Explain yourself.”

Again, she hesitates, but this time not for long. “I want to save my friends and family...probably the priestess too...” [Y/E/C] eyes meet his for the first time in days. “But what if that in turn will get even more people killed? You’re not exactly known as the peaceful kind, and now you want these people to be in your debt? Why? To use their army or something? To-to try and take over Earth again?!”

Ah, of course. “Your pathetic world is of no interest to me..besides: Alfheim has no forces to speak of.” It’s obvious to Loki that she doesn’t believe him. “What they have is a special kind of magic and I need that.”

“Why?”

“To attain my birthright.” Brows wrinkle in endearing confusion and Loki finds himself reaching up to smooth it away with a thumb. “You know me as a Prince of Asgard, yet I am also the rightful king of Jotunheim...a world which has been laid barren years ago at the hands of a thoughtless youngling in anguish.”

“Hah! Let me guess: you want me to believe the Alfheim-...Alfia-...the magic of these people can, what, restore that place? Yeah, good one!” Met by his silence, [Y/N] grows quiet too. Her own words echo soundlessly on her lips as she reconsiders the possibilities in world unlike the reality she used to know. “But...if they can aren’t you, like, uhm...are there anyone else? Going to live there?”

“Perhaps I shall be the only inhabitant for a while, however there will always be people in search of a new home.” People who have been cast out, abandoned by those they thought the world of.

...  Reader   ...

The answer you have gotten is not at all what you had expected from someone as ruthless as Loki. Invasion, kidnapping, war.  Those are the qualities associated with the black haired man. Lies too...but why use something as this as a cover for his real intentions? It would make him seem “nicer” in my eyes, for one. Biting your lip, the plethora of potential scenarios are dizzying and you know better than to trust him. But...a stolen glance proves little: brows furrowed over green eyes that seem fixed on a place far, far away.

“Who...” Stopping again, you reconsider how to get to the truth. “What would make anyone destroy an entire country?”

Loki’s attention snaps back to you with the force lightning, making the hairs stand on end. “Not just a country, mortal, a world. The realm of Jotunheim was the home planet of the Jötun.”

“Oh.” What else can you say?

For a second, the god seems far away, a shadow creeping over his features and a weight clinging to his shoulder, then he sighs but before he can say what’s on his mind, a handful of the mesmerizing people arrive to usher the two of you along.

Down another hallway, this one less lavishly decorated, and through a set of doors into an indoor forest. Slender trees with silvery bark stretch towards the high ceiling where a gazillion crystals hang. Gold details decorate every other branch, twinkling between the small, green leaves that make you think of spring time. As if it wasn’t breathtaking enough, the only stone on the floor is a weaving path while everything else is moss (oddly comforting in a familiarity you can’t pinpoint) and flowers of silver, white, and gold.

At the centre of this indoor glade is a mix between an altar and a bed. On it lies a figure, so skinny the cheeks are hollowed, every bone can be counted, and every vein stands clear like a mountain range. A rattling breath is the only reason you know for sure that this person is alive. The priestess. Your stomach rolls, threatening to spill the last meal, from the adamant certainty she is in pain.

Damn you, Loki. Of course he’s right: even with the (very likely) risk of betrayal, there’s no way you can let the poor girl suffer like this. Not when you know you can change it. His hushed encouragement is unnecessary as your hands already are coming to rest on the patient’s forehead and chest.

...  Loki   ...

Not a single person dares to move when [Y/N] first touches the priestess and even the Jotun finds it impossible to look away from the artful hands, feather-light as they are with the borderline caressing gesture. Soft skin. Dexterous fingers. The sight creates a longing Loki instinctively knows could change him if it ever was fulfilled, and so he is thankful for the distraction of the Älfir mumbles when the Midgardian woman begins to sing her magic.

It’s a soft tune, barely audible in the deadly quiet room where the priestess has been laid to either absorb the life infused in every aspect of the place...or die and return to the light from which the people of Alfheim believe they hail. After a while a few of the elder begin to hum, weaving the little magic they might possess into that of [Y/N]. The words...they are similar. Yet, where Loki understands the common tongues spoken in more than the Nine Realms, this language is unknown to him and apparently the majority of the Älfir. How can she...?

The spectators’ attention is eventually diverted by the visual changes in the Priestess’ countenance. With bated breaths, they watch the return of muscles and the filling of her previously sunken facial features – the improvement to small to see from minute to minute but unmistakable after ten-fifteen minutes have passed, allowing Loki to reacquaint himself with the sweet sensation of confidence that his plan will work.

A second feels like an hour. Entire eternities pass before the rattling quality of the Priestess’ breathing diminishes. By then, Loki has started keeping a sharp eye on the woman making it all possible as [Y/N]’s hands have begun to tremble and her posture is increasingly hunched over. She’s tiring herself out.

Stepping up to stand right behind her, he leans in to whisper in her ear, “I believe you have done enough.” The only response is a shake of the head, barely enough to stir a hair on her pretty head.

When the young patient’s eyelashes flutter and her skin possess the glow of her kin, [Y/N] is shaking and swaying so badly the Jotun gives in to the urge to steady her. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he urges her to lean against her, let him support some of her weight, only to be surprised at the coolness of her body – to him, she usually feels scalding – still, clammy sweat clings to the mortal’s skin.

“Your task is complete. Stop now.” From where Loki stands, he can barely see the gentle pull of the mouth but he does notice how blown the pupils are even the few times [Y/N] manages to open her eyes completely. “I’m ordering you to stop.”

She doesn’t. Not until the Priestess breathes in deep and opens her eyes...then finally, the Midgardian stops singing and collapses in Loki’s arms.

[kanene-yaaay]

What is it?

Kanene’s note: Heyioooo!!! How are you all, my dear lollipop? Gooooosh! I really missed to post something dfghjukioljuhghgf. Well, I was talking with the incredible @cefsticklestoo and she said one of her favorite Tickle-Tropes was Alien/Robot discovering about tickles, and then I got really inspired asdfgyhujuhgfghj. xDD.

Hope you all appreciate the story as much as I loved to write it!!! Thank you for your time! Have a wonderful day and a wonderful life! Never forget how much special you are, lollipop! <3

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* Lee!Logan and Ler!Roman (It can be seen as Romantic or Platonic if you want. There is some kind of flirt but only if you squint).

* Hmmm… This is a Tickle-Fanfic! If you don’t like this kind of stuff, please look for another blog, there are plenty of amazing art in this site!! ‘u’).

* Something around 1500 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* I wrote a big part of it during my class. I could feel the adrenaline in my veins and almost had a heart attack when my friend asked me ‘what are you writing’ dfghjhgfdfghjhg.  D a n g e r. 

* Vou tentar escrever a versão em português! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Watch a fun video, take a good rest, talk with the one that you love, drink water and be careful with your creations, they can easly get very curious, ya know! Byeioo!~

                                [~*~]

Logan smiled, for the first time in a really long period, as he watched his creation finally became alive. Their metallic, shiny eyes blinked and the android focused them in his form, their face, even if mirrored his, opened in one of the most perfect and bright smiles Logan had even seen.

- It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear subject! - Roman (What he could do? Logan always kept a secret love for the Roman Empire) spin in the same place as if testing out his movements. The mechanic and scientist opened his mouth, ready to answer his question until all the exhaustion and tiredness took over the entirety of his mind, suppressing the adrenaline of, after all this time, presence his creation finally works.

 And then he passed out.

 …

 He blinked a few times. His head didn’t hurt, which probably meant that the android managed to catch him before his expected encounter with the floor. Thank to Newton that Logan didn’t spared efforts to apprimorete his reflexives responses. He sat, appreciating the feeling the cozy fabric of his bed’s comforts (how much time was since he actually slept in it?), before being tossed in his initial position, again.

 - WHAT IS IT?? - In Roman’s hands diverses paint cans struggled to not fall from their firm grip. The strength of their arms, which one day were known as white, was completely colored in a mix of various colors and shades.

 - P-paint cans. - Logan cleared his throat while the colored let themself fell, sitting on the scientist’s legs, their vision unfocused, probably accessing on his internet the meaning of his words, their smile increasing more and more. - How much time I was unconscious?

 - It’s beautiful. - Their glare returned to stare only the painting and cans, their nose wrinkling in a disgruntled expression. Logan didn’t remembered doing their features so adorably. - It’s awful. I'm going to need to redo it. - Their face then gleamed, as if Roman had the most brilliant idea in the whole world. - Can I practice on you?

 - Pardon me?

 - ‘Practice makes perfect’ it’s a pretty common saying, you know?

 - I didn’t mean...- The one with glasses sighed under the expecting, excited and slightly confused look of the other. It was against his principles to deny knowledge in any and every form to anyone. - Yes. However, I plead you use a paint brush.

 - Paint brush?

 - Small object used in order to applying paint.

 Roman took the said out of a small compartment in his shoulder.

 - I thought it was a kind of ornament. - Wet the object first in the red can and started to work, their ability of improvement was almost mesmerizing, the shapes gained more complexity and precision as the drawing danced across his forearm, so much that Logan didn’t even noticed it inevitable destiny as its bristles lightly touched the base of his neck.

 The mechanic nearly jumped, a yelp escaping from his lips while his body jerked, but not much, from the sensation, a wobbly smile taking over his features without his permission.

 - Hey!!! You made me blur it!!! - Angry pout. Their eyes met. - Wait. You did it again.

 - What? - Logan was too much occupied controlling his impulse to rub the tingling sensation in his neck to acknowledge the shine, which spread in Roman’s eyes, joyfully mesmerizing his smile one more time. 

 - That. You made that thing when I woke up. - Then they stared their brush. - What did I do?

 - T-this was o-only an involuntary response of my nervous system. - ‘It’s not a big deal, Logan. It’s NOT a big deal. Stop blushing and smiling in that EXACT moment!!’ - It’s called - Come on, Logan. You are a responsible, serious, rational, respected, mature male human. You made an android, you definitely can say this only one word without stuttering. - T-t-tickles. - …. I gave up.

 - Tickles? - Unfocused eyes and suddenly the one with glasses notice how much their creation in his legs could incapacity him from runni- I mean, strategically move away. - Your search history has plenty of results to that word. You are addicted.

 -I-I'm not 'addicted'! I'm just… a little fond for the subject. - His face clouded itself in a frown. 

 -Wait, no! Do that thing again! - Roman scribbled again the brush on his neck, making Logan close firmly his lips and eyes, trying to stop the freedom of all the tons and tons of bubbling giggles that spin and accumulated themselves in his chest, his body shook with the struggling. - Why aren't you doing that sound anymore?

 Their hand let go of the object and the scientist breathed again, ignoring the heating that only increased further in his cheeks. The android's fingers dig in his armpits, releasing a high pitched squeal from the other.

 -Ouch! Whahahait! That hurt! - Roman retreated, a confused expression in his face. 

 -But… I did exactly as the human in that video…

 Logan tried to ignore equally the fact that the Android really was interested in that human activity and this look of slight sadness and curiosity as Roman stared their hands. The one with glasses signed, defeated.

 It was against his principles to deny knowledge in any and every form to anyone. 

 -You need to do it like that. - He raised his hands, wriggling his fingers and not realizing the wobbly smiling showing in his face when the other started to mirroring his movements, tingles and shivers running all through his body and waking up the excited butterflies in his stomach. - And you can't put all your strength in this, the nerves are sensitive to the most light touch.

 -Like that? - Roman deflected from his hands, finding way to his neck, their fingertips barely touching under his chin as they tickled and tracing shapes as the went from a side to another, Logan muffling his fast giggles behind his hands and trying to not move (just because of the lesson, sure. It wasn't like he was liking this or anything like that.) away from the unbearable feeling that made his smile spread more and more.

 -ExhahahahahaHA - Roman found a particularly ticklish spot right behind his ear, Logan almost could see an evil grin in the android's features, even if he haven't programmed that expression on them. A malign thought hit him as well. - E-e-hehehehexactly! But, thahahahahat… - He fought the urge to squeak as Roman tried again the paint brush, each bristle slowly scratching his sensitive spot and leading the giggly-flow to fall quickly. The good was that the, as it seemed, artist was too much distracted to notice Logan's hands getting dangerously close. - … can also works as well! 

 The scientist, just for the sake of the lesson of course, suddenly attacked their ribs, his fingers quickly spidering up and down, sometimes poking, multiples of times even when the Android jumped, exploding in a loud, melodious laughter that, for a moment, stopped everything else. 

 Their eyes met, a smirk beginning to form in his face-

 But then Roman's fingers decided to tickle his tummy, and Logan automatically lost it, his hands clapping firmer in his mouth as real laughter, together with some snorts, started to float from his lips. Roman unfairly skilled squeezes spread across every single inch of his so, so much ticklish spot, kneading and scribbling his right, his left, up, down, just to repeat all of this again and again and again… 

 -It's working!!! - Their fast, unbearable tickles found that exactly spot right under his navel that leaded to the current flow of squeals and snorts that fell from his mouth, his giggles getting higher as his ticklish, softly scratches almost made him want to jump from his skin, squirming more profusely. - I didn't even knew that humans could make these sounds!!

 -SHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUT UP! - His whole face was boiling, his smile so big that it was possible to see even behind his hands. - NahahahaHAHAHAHA!

 -Hey!! Stop it right now! It's not fair, I'm working hard here!! Show me your smile! - An only one damn finger poked curiously his belly button, making his hands really get of his mouth, flying to hold the others wrists. Roman couldn't stop smiling, even more when they fixed their eyes in Logan's face, his glasses askew, wrinkled nose, wobbly smile and infinite giggles. Each little poke resulting in a shriek. - Cool! This is your squeaky button!

 His blush spread to his ears.

 -Thihihihis is NOHOHOHOT how th -sTOP- ihihihis called!!!

 Roman began to scribble the most ticklish spot, their index finger dancing inside his navel and Logan fell in an explosion of laughter, crackling, snorting and squeaking, legs bouncing and head shaking, as if he could deny the sensation.

 -Sure it is! I'm poking and you're squeaking!

 -Thihihihihis is nOHOHOT HOW THIHIHIHihihihis wORK! - Roman leaned down their head, a suborn look of determination in their eyes. -  Nohohohohoho!! DohohOHOHOHON'T!

 -IT. IS. - And then they blew a raspberry directly in his tummy button. A scream escaped from Logan's lips before he fell in a silent laughter. The Android stopped, eyes widen open as they stared him. 

 -I'm sorry. I thought I…

 -N-nohohoho. - The scientist took off his glasses, wiping the tears from his eyes. - It's ohohokahahay, you stohohopped in the rihihight moment. - He let his gigantic smile remained in his face, his giggles floating in the air, showing he was truly okay.  As soon as Roman realized, they let a proud smile took over his features. 

 -See? I told you it was a squeaky button!  

[nagisa-shiota-worthy-shit]

Hey Mr. Business, How Do You Do?

short fic!

Nagisa is a barista with a very messed up desire. The day has come to make that desire come to life... by causing a death. 

this will be coming to ao3 too. Prompt credit to @akari-loves-pudding and @pinklovely05 

----------------------------------------------------------

The horrible pay and nearly harassing treatment by customers that come with working in a coffee shop do not justify murder. His job also wasn’t exactly Shiota Nagisa’s reason. What was about to happen came more or less forth out of a sudden urge, a need to try something out. That need wasn’t exactly telling him to “try everything”, but at the very least told him to “try murder”. 

He wasn’t a serial killer, for the record. He’d never killed anyone before and, frankly, he probably never would again after this. There was no denying how powerful he felt though, holding the tiny glass bottle between his fingers behind the counter. It was so interesting how such a harmless looking bit of liquid could do so much to the human body. 

If Nagisa had been a more poetic person, he’d refer it back to himself. He wasn’t exactly tall, or muscular, or very impressing when judged by looks. However, the truth was that he could very much do harm to people. And he would, as soon as he’d found a suitable target. 

The best description for the customers in the coffee shop that day would be ‘average’. The clientele consisted of the usual hipsters, bored elderly, tired students, and business men in a hurry. Of course there were some odd cases that didn’t fit any of the mentioned groups, but they didn’t leave much of an impression on Nagisa. Some people just pushed your buttons more than others. 

With every person that came in he judged how annoying they were and how high the chances of him murdering them was. Most hipsters were irritating, but not horrible people. Their orders were by far the worst though, as if they thought ordering a ‘mocha latte mixed with cinnamon and whipped cream with caramel drizzle on top’ would make them so much cooler than the person ordering a plain black coffee. 

Of course, the black coffee was mostly ordered by the students and businessmen. The difference? The students asked for at least two espresso shots, and even then Nagisa had caught them mixing it with their energy drinks several times. He didn’t care that much, the only customer he ever stopped was the one that brought their own bottle of liquor to add to their coffee. Not only was that against company policy, it was also 10 AM. 

The bored elderly might actually need another title. They were simply complainers, not even always elderly, but at the very least they weren’t young. They’re categorized as bored because apparently their only entertainment left in this world was to complain about every single thing to Nagisa, even if those things were completely out of his control. If he had to deal with one more middle aged lady complaining too much sun shone on the window table he’d break the register right off the counter, because he could, in fact, not “tone down the sunlight.” 

After dealing with a certain customer that apparently did not know a macchiato was in fact “milk with coffee, rather than coffee with milk”, Nagisa saw who he considered to be the perfect target. He was annoying, smug, and Nagisa would not miss his daily conversations with this man. 

His name was Akabane Karma, and he was a very annoying person. The first time he’d come in, Nagisa had considered him kind of cool. It appeared he had a respectable job, which later turned out to be a bureaucratic function, and he was very good looking. The way his his hair was swept to one side framed his face pretty nicely, and Nagisa wished he could look like that... manly. 

However, the second time he came in, his personality shone through just wonderfully. It only took the time of him greeting the taller man for said man to make a very uncalled for comment on Nagisa’s physique. Of course, it wasn’t even like usual cat calling telling him to bend over or whatever, it was the usual stupid calling that tried to inform him on how much he looked like a girl. 

“No, but, you’re sure you’re male right?” Karma said to him, after Nagisa had just informed him of his gender after being asked. “You could have fooled me.” 

Nagisa had let out a sigh, but tried to maintain his composure, mostly because he didn’t want to lose his job just because some guy liked making comments about a topic he was perhaps a little sensitive about. He reassured him of his gender once more and continued to ask about his order. 

Karma, being the bothersome person he was, wasn’t ready to let it go though. 

“Okay but you have to admit you look quite like a girl.” He shrugged, still not giving Nagisa his order. Nagisa held his hand on the medium sized to-go cups stack, trying to clarify he wanted Karma to move on already. He seemed to get the hint. 

“Fine, blonde roast cappuccino,” He ordered, much to Nagisa’s amusement. He’d ordered a macchiato last time, the guy probably didn’t even really like coffee that much. “And how about for the name, you write down your number.” Of course he couldn’t end Nagisa’s discomfort just like that.  

“I’m not doing that, sorry customer.” Nagisa remained smiling as he wrote down ‘Akabane’ on the cup. “One blonde roast cappuccino for Akabane coming up.”

Before he walked away Karma sent one last creepy smile to Nagisa. “But you remembered my name, huh?” 

It was safe to say that that one interaction was enough for Nagisa to realize he did not like the guy. To make matters worse, he started coming in every day, even saying cheesy stuff like how he’d come there just for Nagisa. It was not only creepy but also annoying, seeing as Karma’s entire thing seemed to be making teasing comments at Nagisa and ordering something different literally every time. 

But this time, he had something very nice with him that would definitely surprise Karma. He’d put away the vile in his apron to make working easier, but the moment he stroked his hand over the pocket of it to casually check it was there, he felt his kind customer-greeting smile grow into more of a grin. 

“Welcome to the shop!” He greeted the red head, using his customer addressing voice that showed more enthusiasm than he’d ever be able to feel, the moment he came in through the door. Said customer looked up at him and immediately smiled. He had no idea what was coming for him. 

Karma approached the counter and went to lean his elbows on it, resting his head on the back of his hands. “Did you miss me?” He asked, that annoying smirk on his face again. Nagisa hadn’t missed him, but he was happy he was there right then. 

“The usual feelings apply,” He replied, hiding any murderous intentions he felt. “are you going to sit down today or to-go?” 

“I have time off, I’ll be sitting down and you can be my waiter.” Karma answered. Usually, this would annoy Nagisa quite a lot. If he sat down he’d have to deal with him longer, and being his waiter most of the time meant Karma just kept calling for him for literally everything. Of course, you can’t really tell the customer off. This time, however, he was glad to be able to see Karma enjoy his drink. 

He directed Karma to sit down at a free table and told him he’d be with him in a bit. His hand went to the pocket with the vile in it once more, somewhat excited for what was about to happen. He didn’t show anything in his face or posture. If there was one thing Nagisa had mastered, it was hiding his intentions and bloodlust. He couldn’t look suspicious now, he could not be blamed for everything once this was done, even if he was very guilty. 

Eventually he went to Karma’s table, notebook and pen in hand. “So what can I get you today?” He asked politely, taking Karma’s attention from the monthly specials paper. 

“I don’t suppose you are on the menu?” He asked. 

“No, I meant coffee or side dish.” Nagisa kept his smile on his face, trying very hard not to grind his teeth too much. 

Karma looked over the laminated paper one more time before pointing at a picture on it. “This… chocolate coffee thing.” 

“One chocolate mocha latte, right.” Nagisa wrote down the drink, internally hating on the process of making the drink. It was a little more effort than he really wished for. He supposed it didn’t matter much how it tasted, it’d be the last one Karma would drink anyways. “Anything on the side?” He added, tilting his head as he asked to appear even more innocent. 

There wasn’t much of a reaction from Karma as he read over the paper again. “No I think it’s fine like that.” He finally said after a bit. With that Nagisa sent him a last polite smile and went off to make his drink. 

When he returned behind the counter Kayano had offered to make the drink for him. “There’s no one in line anyways.” She’d shrugged, but Nagisa refused. With all the extras he couldn’t really throw the poison in last. He turned to grab a coffee cup and pumped in all the syrups needed, waiting for Kayano to turn away before he took the most devious step in his plan. 

The moment he held the opened little glass bottle he felt himself start to doubt. There really wasn’t any going back the moment he put this in. He was about to do something as serious as taking someone’s life. The moral implications of it had hit Nagisa before, but at that moment, poison in one hand and cup right in the other, he felt a little insecure about it all. 

Of course, he’d thought about the getting caught thing. He made extra sure the poison he got wouldn’t be found when the body was examined. From what he gathered, it would make it seem like the victim had internal bleeding by unknown causes, he’d simply just succumbed to them in the coffee shop. 

Nagisa wouldn’t be blamed. Sure, he was the last person to talk to Karma and he’d be questioned, but no one would have any reason to believe he did anything. He and Karma weren’t even in any other relationship other than customer and barista. Why would Nagisa want to kill him? If he was a suspected serial killer, sure, there’d be a reason. He’d be seen like a psychopath. 

He wasn’t though, a psychopath. He felt empathy. He felt guilt, at that exact moment even. But some other feeling was stronger than that guilt. It might have edged on curiousity, but mostly it was bloodlust. Everyone had different ways of channeling through their negative energy. 

It’s not like anyone would miss an annoying bureaucrat who was apparently so friendless he spent everyday of his life coming to the same coffee shop to flirt with the same barista. No one would miss such a weirdo. 

In another universe the two could have been friends. In this one, Nagisa was going to kill Karma. 

The vile was in the cup and before he knew it he put it under the machine and started to finish the drink. When it was done it looked and smelt normal. It was overly sweet and could barely be called coffee. Nagisa was a little proud of himself, this really seemed to be working. 

He got his tray and walked over to Karma with his drink. “There you go, one chocolate mocha latte.” Nothing about his voice sounded unusual, even if his mind was racing. The other thanked him and before he could make another comment Nagisa excused himself because he did have to go back to work. He promised they could talk later, but Nagisa knew that wasn’t happening. 

As he was cleaning and making some drinks for Kayano’s customers behind the counter, he sneaked several glances in Karma’s direction. He made sure to only look when he knew Karma wasn’t, he wasn’t about to be caught acting strange. He just really wanted to see what happened. 

And then the moment came. He heard a noise coming from Karma’s table, somewhat distressed and in pain. Nagisa looked up to see Karma grabbing at his chest. He’d gained the attention from several customers around him. 

When he didn’t stop with the painful act one customer stood up to ask him if he was okay. Karma didn’t let out any words. The customer looked back at the people at his table and started to ask for his phone, obviously trying to be responsible and call for an ambulance. Before he could Karma suddenly collapsed. 

Within seconds there was a mass panic in the shop. People got up out of their seats and moved out of the way, all while staring at the man on the floor. The man who’d walked up to him before apparently had some kind of adrenaline kick and kept helping the other. 

He yanked his coat off of a chair and used it to lay Karma’s head on. One of his friends rushed to his side and helped him get Karma in the right position. Eventually the second man checked the passed out person’s wrist and suddenly turned white. 

“No pulse” was all he said. Nagisa heard a high pitched gasp from beside him. Kayano. Of course she hadn’t come in to work that morning expecting to see someone die. She wasn’t in the same boat as Nagisa. 

Nagisa, who had previously broken the small glass bottle and made sure to throw it away in the wrong trash can, so no one would go look for it. Nagisa, who’s eyes flashed to the coffee cup Karma had been drinking from earlier and who felt a tinge of pride making his heart flutter. Nagisa, who seemingly had no regrets about the current situation. 

He held a fake shocked expression on his face as he stared at the collapsed customer. Everyone around him did the same, some still bending over him and one customer even calling the emergency number. Nagisa held his hand in front of his mouth, he knew he wasn’t about to ruin things and smile over what just happened but it couldn’t hurt to be sure. Something in him wanted to smile, however. 

He really just killed him.

[smol-and-grumpy]

Take You For A Ride

Re-Post

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: What do you say when Dean wants to take you for a ride?

WC: 1.4k

Warnings: Smut (face sitting, face grinding, teasing)

You were counting the money in the register when he walked in.

He was trouble, you could see that, as if the word ‘trouble’ was stamped across his forehead with invisible ink. Maybe the way he walked gave it away.

He was bold, his movement had a swagger, and he kind of acted as if he owned the place. Those kind of men were the ones your mom warned you about. But, sadly, those kind of men were also the ones that pushed all your buttons.

“We’re closed,” you said dryly, even before he could utter a word. It was true, you were about to finish counting and leave - head home, jump into a hot bath and relax - and you hoped that it would be sooner rather than later.

“I’m sorry, the sign says you’re open.” He was so close, then, and you hoped that he wouldn’t hear how your heartbeat picked up speed with his presence.

His hand slid over the bar top, and he drummed his fingers along to the music. 

God, those fingers. They were long and thick and… no, you shouldn’t have been thinking those thoughts about a man who just walked through the door. But could you blame yourself? It had been way too long since you had someone in your bed (or anywhere else for that matter) and you missed it.

You didn’t just want to fuck any guy who so much as smiled in your direction, though. You were picky and that might’ve just been your downfall. Besides, the only men you had contact with lately were regulars at the bar and you really, really, really didn’t see them as sexually attractive. Sexual attraction loses power when you have to clean up puke, and you’d done plenty of that.

So no, the men in your life were not the ones you wanted to have sex with. Unlike the man before you, who was oozing sex appeal by just standing there and breathing. How did he do that?

“I forgot to lock it up. My mistake.” You looked up, then, which was another mistake because you could really see his face and his eyes. It was dark in the bar, but, still, those eyes were shining bright. They were green-ish with a spark of playfulness, and the faint freckles spread across his face… Oh, god… Suddenly you felt the urge to connect them and you’d love to do it with your tongue.

No! You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the impure thoughts that clouded your mind.

It was as if he knew what you were thinking because his lips spread into a smirk before he flashed his perfect teeth. He produced a badge from his suit jacket and waved it in front of your face. “Special Agent Paige.” He folded it and put it back before you could take a better look. “I have some questions about a regular of yours.”

His tongue darted out to lick at his bottom lip, and you couldn’t stop thinking about what his tongue could do to you. How he could lick every inch of your body and you wouldn’t mind. Not one bit. You’d be begging for more, actually, because he looked like he knew how to put that tongue to good use. You imagined how it would feel on your throbbing, wet pussy lips, wondered how it would feel to have him carve a path from your clit to your pussy entrance and beyond. That face paired with those lips? You couldn’t lie, you wanted to take his pretty face for a ride. He could throw you off at the gates of Hell, and you’d probably still be thanking him for the ride.

Fuck… what was wrong with you?

“Let me finish this.” You didn’t even know why you said that because you’d stopped counting a long time ago. How could you concentrate on stupid numbers when the only thing you wanted to count was the freckles on his face and body? How could you still be counting when his hands are doing what they do?

Like right then? Yeah, they were just resting there, folded over each other, but, damn, you just knew what he could do with them. You knew how capable he just had to be with those skilled fingers.

Oops, there you went again… You started to blush, cleared your throat, looking down at your own hands that were still holding a couple of bills.

“Right, I’ll just wait over there.” He pointed to the booth in the far corner before smiling and walking away. He locked the door with the dead bolt and flipped the switch to turn off the neon light ‘OPEN’ sign outside the door.

You generally hated and loved the bar you’d inherited from your dad. Running the family business had odd perks, though, like knowing full well you could arm yourself for potentially dangerous nights alone - like this one. Yes, the hours were shit and the money was shit, but the place was yours, free and clear.

Maybe you should’ve been scared, being alone with a strange man. But he was a federal agent, right? Besides, you had your trusty, little 9mm tucked in your garter. You’d never had to use it and you hoped it’d stay that way, but you were prepared. And you swore, if he tried anything funny, that beautiful face would be the thing you were going to aim at.

***

You took your time, counting and recounting because he kept staring and distracting you. You turned up the music so you could at least hum along to that, but there was no denying that you felt his eyes on you the whole time. Yet, when you looked up at him, he would busy himself with scrolling through his phone.

You wondered if he’d even be interested in silly, old you, or if you’d made it up in your head. Either way, you were finished and you needed to face him. You hope that you wouldn’t embarrass yourself; or, worse, that you’d have to hurt his pretty face.

Grabbing a bottle of whiskey and two glasses, you joined the agent in the booth. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Agent Paige,” you said. “Can I offer you a drink? Or are you not allowed to drink while on duty?”

He smirked. “Name’s Dean. And, yes, please - a drink sounds about right.”

“I’m Y/N,” you said, pouring two fingers of whiskey into a glass and shoving it across the table.

“Thanks, Y/N. How’d you know I like whiskey?” He waited for you to pour yours and then you clinked glasses.

“I didn’t but it’s the only thing I can drink in this bar,” you answered. “You also look like a beer drinker, but I closed and cleaned the taps already, so…” You shrugged and took a sip, your eyes watching him look over to the bar to see that it was clean before he returned his gaze to yours.

“Touché. Then I’m glad that you like whiskey.” He set his empty glass down, and you took the bottle in your hand, looking at him for approval before pouring him another two fingers.

“So, what’s your question?” You’d almost forgotten that he was there because of a regular. At least that’s what he’d said, and even though you wanted to go home before, your urge to end this conversation was suddenly gone.

“Yeah, about that,” Dean started. It was almost as if he were lost in thought himself, and only because you reminded him that he remembered. He took another sip before putting his glass back down. His relaxed posture changed again, as if he were transforming back into the federal agent - a little less relaxed, a little more agitated. “Have you noticed any regular patrons missing?”

You thought hard about his question. Then it hit you - there were two patrons that you hadn’t seen or heard of from in a week. You weren’t sure if there were others. The bar was normally packed with a mix of new and old patrons, and there were probably more than 30 regulars… come to think of it… You started to frown. That number had dropped significantly in the last couple of months. There were only about a dozen regulars left. When you looked up at Dean with realization in your eyes, he nodded his acknowledgment.

“Thought so,” he said. “Look, we’re still figuring out what’s going on around here. I want you to be safe, OK?” He took your hand in his, and you noticed then that they were shaking. He rubbed a calming thumb against the back of your hand.

“What’s happening?” You calmed down enough to ask him, and he poured himself and you another drink before downing it in one go himself.

“I can’t say. But I’ll make sure that you’re safe. And you seem to know how to defend yourself, so I think you’re good.” He smirked with a raised eyebrow.

“What?”

“You’re carrying a 9mm on your thigh.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m just that good.” He chuckled to himself.

“That, you are.” You felt a little woozy as the alcohol traveled through your bloodstream.

“I need to go check on something else. You good?” He stood up, holding a hand out and you took it gladly.

“I’m a big girl, Agent,” you answered. “I can manage. Besides, I have my gun.” You lift up your skirt enough for him to see it pressed against your thigh.

“Well…” He cleared his throat. “That’s a sight I’ll be dreaming about tonight.” He walked to the door and you followed suit.

“Keep an eye out,” he said. “And if you notice more people disappearing, let me know, will ya?” He handed you a card, which you tucked into your garter along with the gun. Dean watched with admiration.

“Will do, Agent.” You smiled up at him, and he looked back before his hand gripped the deadbolt, about to open it up.

Then you didn’t know what happend. There was a rush, and everything was blurred. You didn’t know who made the first move, but, suddenly, his arms were around you and his lips were on yours. He lifted you up, and you hooked your legs around his waist as he licked into your mouth. His velvety tongue tasted like whiskey, and it made you drunk. He walked you to the nearest booth and laid you down on the table, kissing you with more passion, then, and oh god, he’s not only good looking but he’s a damn good kisser too.

“Tell me what you want, Y/N,” he growled low before he kissing down your throat.

His fingers - you just knew that they were capable - unbuttoned your shirt as he mouthed at your throat. He was eager, too, couldn’t wait until he unbuttoned it all; instead, he tore your shirt apart, sending buttons flying in every direction.

“Sorry.” The apology came out a mumble before his lips attacked your cleavage, kissing and sucking a path to your bra-cup. “Tell me,” he demanded again. You were speechless before, but you tried to summon the courage to tell him what was really going through your mind.

“Ever since you walked through that door,” you started to as he pulled your bra cup down, his eyes on yours.

“Yeah?” he encouraged, smiling, his thumb flicking against a hard nipple.

“Ah…” You arched your back at the sensation.

“Go on,” he commanded, cupping both your tits that he freed from your bra, held them in his big palms and squeezed them.

“Oh, god… ” You covered your red face with both your hands, embarrassed to tell him the truth. To tell him, what you’d been really thinking when he’d walked through that damn door.

Dean’s eyes were fixed on yours as he stuck out his tongue, the tip of it just barely grazing a nipple. Then he spoke again. “You’ve gotta tell me, Y/N. And don’t lie because I’ll know when you’re lying.” He chuckled before flicking his tongue over your other nipple.

“Oh, yeah? They’ve been teaching you that at the Bureau?” You counter, trying to talk yourself out of admitting your desire to him. As much as you would have loved to tell him the truth, you didn’t think you’d be able to. For starters, you’d just met him! You couldn’t go around telling people how much you wanted to ride their faces, could you?

He smirked before taking a nipple into his mouth and nibbling it. That, accompanied with him rutting his big, fucking bulge against your panty-clad core, made you writhe under of him. “Tell me, or you won’t get anything, baby.” His voice was throaty, and you could feel it vibrating your body.

He took the nipple back in his mouth, biting a little harder and twirling the fingers of his other hand around your other tit, pulling until it hurt.

“Ah…” You bit your lips, arched your back, and drove your tit deeper into his face. “Alright, fine! Fuck…”

Dean looked up to you, his mouth abandoned your tit, but his hips still kept circling against your pussy as he smiled.

“Fine.” You were panting hard and that damn smirk of his was taunting you. “The first thing I thought when I saw you standing before me?”

You made a pause, and Dean nodded, urging you on.

Rolling your eyes to the back, you let out a sigh before you went on, but not without squinting your eyes shut. “I thought about how good it would feel to ride your pretty face.”

Still holding your eyes shut, you waited for a reaction, but when nothing audible was forthcoming, you slowly opened your eyes to see Dean trying his best not to burst out laughing.

“What? You told me to tell you the truth!” You defended your filthy thoughts, blushing a little - well, no, a lot - as he tried to hold himself together.

He didn’t say anything more, though. Instead, he mouthed his way down, sucking and biting at your dress and pulling up your skirt to be able to mouth against your clothed crotch. Dean let out a soft growl when he reached the damp patch, sucking in the fabric and tasting your juice from it.

His fingers hooked into your panties, pulling them slowly down. The fabric caught on the handle of your 9mm, and you were about to take it off when Dean stopped you. “You’re gonna leave it on. I wanna feel it dig into my cheek while you ride me, sweetheart.” He winked, and, oh, god, how could you say no to that?

Dean unhooked your panties from the gun and finished pulling them down so you were bare. “Won’t need them to take a ride, will you?” He winked again before pushing the panties into his pants pocket. You wanted to protest, wanted to ask him why he put them away, but then he pulled you up, his hand coming around the back of your head as he kissed you hungrily, all tongues and teeth, just the way you liked it. You wondered if you were dreaming, and, if yes, you never wanted to wake up. Ever.

Dean turned so he was standing with his ass against the edge of the table. He pulled you down with him as he laid back, his heavy arms moving you up as he kissed down your chest, pausing shortly to taste your nipple before pulling you further up. He positioned you so you were kneeling, straddling his face.

You balled your skirt at your waist, holding it out of the way of your view because if you were going to do it, if he was going to let you, it would be a damn shame if you couldn’t look at his pretty face and beautiful eyes.

He swallowed audibly, growling a little when he looked up at what was awaiting him, and, oh god, his lips widened into a grin. They were plump and delicious, and you anticipated the moment they hit your core. “C’mon… let’s get you out on a ride on this old horse.” He laughed at his own joke, his eye crinkles showing as his eyes glistened in the faint bar lighting.

You didn’t have to be told twice, honestly. You lowered yourself onto his waiting mouth and as soon as his tongue hit your pulsing flesh, you were almost a goner. How did he do that? You’d never know, but Dean didn’t hesitate. He opened his mouth wider, his tongue darting out, his hands on your ass, pushing and pulling a little to make you move on top of him.

“Oh, fuck,” you muttered, your eyes closing. You desperately wanted to hold on to something other than your stupid dress. Your hands moved swiftly as you yanked it over your head and flung it to the back. Then you unhooked your bra, too, letting it slide off your arms.

As soon as your body was free of fabric, your hands found his head, your fingers digging into his scalp before you fisted them in his hair. You pulled his face up by his hair and ground your hips, rubbing your pussy all over his face. Gone was the shyness - sensation won, and you let yourself go.

You could hear Dean hum his approval at the rough treatment you gave him, and when he started to slurp and suck at your center, you had a hard time holding yourself back.

Looking down, you were met by his green orbs, the little crows feet decorated his eyes. “Dean, fuck… I’m gonna come.”

You thought he’d stop because… well, because maybe some men didn’t like it when a woman comes on their face? You don’t know, you just thought that it was only fair that you warn him.

Dean didn’t stop, though, and you didn’t stop circling your pussy in a figure eight on his face. And when he winked at you, you smiled brightly back at him. That was the sign you needed.

You fisted his hair tighter, driving your short nails into his scalp as you rubbed yourself on his pretty face. Oh, god, that face made you forget your own name.

“Fuck, yes… yes!” you screamed, pushing his face deeper into your convulsing pussy. You came with a shriek and your body immediately went lax. Then your last couple of functioning brain cells reminded you that Dean was under you so you moved your hips down until your head was level with his chest. You collapsed, then, panting hard as he looked up at you with a shiny face.

And maybe it was a mistake looking at him because the freckles on his face were coated in your slick, and, damn it, he looked even better like that. How did he do that?

Dean pushed himself up into a sitting position, making you stand as he moved to the edge of the table. He was still holding you, and you were glad for the support because you didn’t know if your legs would have be able to hold you steady after that orgasm.

He pulled you in for another kiss, and you could taste yourself on his tongue. “You taste fantastic,” he whispered against your mouth, one hand cupping your tit and the other sliding down your back.

All of a sudden, you were shy again. You rested your forehead against his as your hand fisted in his suit jacket. Looking down, you noticed the stain you left behind as you slid down his body after you came.

“I… uh… sorry about that,” you mumbled. “I’ll pay for the dry cleaning.”

Dean laughed out loud. “Sweetheart, don’t worry about that. I was glad to take you on a wild ride.” He winked and kissed your nose.

“Thanks,” you said, “for taking me.”

“So,” he countered, “what if I take you for another ride, huh?”

“Hmm… kinky.” You said with a grin.

Dean took off his suit jacket and loosened his tie before rolling up his sleeves. “Might need a seatbelt, it’s gonna get bumpy…” he chuckled and spanked your ass.