#but in a couple weeks. it…. may be in very bad taste otherwise……..

[poulpemou]

whelp since i accidentally wrote a companion piece in addition i guess i will be posting both after all 🤡

sigh. accidentally wrote some fem a/b in a fugue state but can't talk to anyone about it because it's pretty gory and honestly kind of gross all around. but fem a/b..... sigh................

[fumifooms]

i know you aren't really into marcille/laios any longer, but since you went looking online for dungeon meshi doujins, did you happen to find any other marcille/laios ones? (funnily enough at the convention i was at a couple weeks back they had like five, but they were extremely over-exaggerated and personally i prefer my fan content relatively in character...)

Ok first of all: Yeah listen laimar doesn’t have a grip on me anymore but I still quite enjoy it! Just more passively… Altho I do have an analysis that focuses a lot on the importance they hold to each other in my early stage wips drafts, and listen in canon I do think they’re queerplatonic flavored, call me an ot3 qpr truther because Laios Marcille and Falin have a something going on and it transcends being put into a box. But hey hey I reblog laimar artworks I bought that recent doujin I put laimar fics in my -checks- 106 pages long to-read list… Also I have like 5 pages of fanfic prompts for them I may or may not get to writing. Though yeah I do feel bad whenever I notice people following after liking all my laimar posts haha

Sadly to get to the meat of the topic, not really… I don’t go to cons for lack of opportunity so whatever I find is through online. The one I got is The Fourth Basement Floor, it has an english ver and seems so so very in character I can’t wait to get it! Otherwise I’ve looked on Otakurepublic & Doujinrepublic since I use their services for merch from Japan, warning if you click on the link, there are 18+ ones and covers can be pretty explicit. I don’t remember any other laimar one except the one nsfw one I think, but on the plus side there are a lot of gen no ships doujins. I’m bothered because looking back I feel like the catalogue of doujins was wider when I looked all those months ago and it feels like I’m forgetting something hmm… I wish I could help more, but yeah 😔 Pixiv has many laimar comics up (in japanese) if that sates the hunger any

As consolation since I’m already here, why not show some of my laimar things laying around gathering dust I’m fond of. Don’t look if you don’t want to be spoiled for fics I may or may not write I guess? All down below is just laimar prompts

I spoke about some various ones and esp my timeline where she gets him into Daltian Clan here. "Laios… I was wondering, because you enjoy fantasy stories right? I was wondering if you’d like to give my favorite book series a go… It has monsters!" I love love love post-canon laimar where he gets the habit of chewing on her hair because he’s stimming and hungry. Like a goat.

Laios goes to Marcille for love advice.  "You like someone?! Do I know them?" She eagerly asked. "Erm… Yes…?" // Post-canon. He’s so nervous and puts his foot in his mouth n lets things slip out that he thought would give him away. (Comic) "You like someone??! What are they like? Who are they?" And he’s like "Well… She’s a half-elf." He’s like shit she’ll probably know right away. And she goes still. "I’ve never met another half-elf!! We’re so rare! You’re saying you met one and didn’t tell me???!" She’s shaking him. And then she goes still again, contempt drawing on her face. "Wait… Are you asking me for advice because I’m a half-elf?" Laios runs with it "Yes!! And because you’re so savvy with romance and what people like…? If, uh, if you were a half-elf, what would you like to get as a gift? What sort of confession would you want?" "… You saved it there. Okay so since I’m so knowledgeable on romance, tell me what is she like?" "-describes Marcille-" She nods, smug yet oblivious. "Aah I can already tell we’d be great friends. Good taste." (then Thinking bubble with him giving her flowers at a restaurant "Did you know roses are edible and used in recipes", candlelit dinner, or wait maybe the most romantic is cooking together alone at home, chocolate! It’s expensive though… Wait I’m king now!)

Lil comic, Laios wakes up snuggled against Marcille’s back then promptly falls off the bed. The noise makes Marcille wake up and she’s like omg are u ok?? Laios is so sweaty and panicked and in denial about her being special to him.  She explains, disgruntled at the memory "Izutsumi is bunking in with Chilchuck again, they’re taking the whole bedrolls." Pause. "Sorry, I should have told you, but you like sleeping with Izutsumi too so I figured…" She looked sheepish. "Between you and Senshi, I much prefer sleeping with you. It feels sort of nostalgic, like a sleepover, no?" He relaxes and gets in the bed again, smiling. "But… We’ve never had a sleepover?" She chuckles "I guess not. I must be getting that impression because of Falin…" And the air between them is warm yet bittersweet now, as she smiles like that and his eyes and smile cloud over. The earlier instinctive reluctance to touch is gone now. She snuggles into his arms and is like "Hug me?" "Okay." And he does, wraps his arms around her and tucks his chin over her head.

Post canon, marcille takes him to a squid restaurant. Cute lighthearted hehe. He sulks "If there are any parasites in this I will ban squid from this kingdom or so help me…"

Short post canon fluff marcille pov about laios gaining weight n becoming chubby. She used to dream of chiseled abs and angular elves, laios in every way, shape and form is so far from the beauty standards she idealized so. And yet… She loves how soft sleeping against him is, how much there’s more of him for her to hug and nuzzle her face in. She loves seeing him and seeing someone strong, who isn’t malnourished or underweight, someone healthy with color in their skin. An healthy appetite. He used to look more like a rectangle, severe and strict, but now he looked rounder, and seeing him smile at her always made her feel like that roundness suited him. She smiled back, and melted thinking about how her boyfriend was the sweetest in the world. ^I still wanna do this one really bad. Sometimes a fic premise comes from nowhere and puts you in a chokehold and you must finish it to obtain catharsis

Short oneshot about laios musing about Marcille’s smile, how important it is to him in subtle ways etc: Ends with Laios being like wait there’s something off (succubus). Then he grabbed her throat. Or smth

Laios seeing her dungeon like "this is so wrong Marcille you can’t run a dungeon for shit" and also "WHAT ARE THESE HORRORS OF MONSTERS NOO THEY CAN’T BE EFFECTIVE LIKE THAT"

Dinner for two: Very warm. Marcille and Laios are meeting up and cooking a dinner just for them both, no one else is there. They’re being so domestic and it’s light. Laios pauses at some point, doing the dishes, saying… I’ve always worried, thinking doing things like these would remind me of my parents.

Laios doesn’t know what to do when he realizes he actually *likes* likes Marcille, so he avoids her. Everyone notices and is disapproving of him.

Her mana acts up and she shares her dream with someone, kinda like with Izutsumi. Listen the premise could be smutty but I think it’d be more fun if they just hanged out n were silly, like the nightmares chapter without the nightmare

Laimar pining but from the view of Chilchuck, his love hatred sensing a storm brewing. The giggling, the looks. Ugh! It reminded him of himself and his wife when they were young and newly dating.

I love Laios and Izu being worsties so. Laios sees izutsumi rubbing her scent on marcille’s clothes and gets possessive. Maybe Golden Kingdom maybe something else I have no clue but Laios being ridiculous and cheek rubbing or something <3

I might want to do an AU where Laios gets into werebeast ring fighting, before canon and the split happens after he deserts the military. So he’s alone, has nothing going for him and stumbles into that sphere and gets werebeast tattoos done. It doesn’t make him happier at all and fighting sucks actually, but it brings money and he likes being a beast and being cheered by a crowd aka illusion of being liked, and money brings food and eating is the privilege of the living etc etc. So then when he goes to check on Falin at the academy it’s a big AU where he has a whole other reputation and look to him, and when he meets izutsumi their relationship is different and aaaaaa… He’s freeer in this au, lets himself be animalistic and weird, even though ofc the arc is him letting himself be more human as well and connecting with humans, through talking and infodumping n shit. Oh I went off but the laimar is because it’s inspired by cool laimar art here (warning tho it’s an art dump with toudencest also 😔) but werewolf Laios laimar AUs… A lotta fun stuff there idk idk

[sprunkimortality]

uhh uhh what do the sprunkies think of wenda?

Oren: "Wenda? She's fine I guess. She looks at me weird sometimes, but like…no biggie, bruh. She's chill otherwise." Raddy: "Oh, yeah, I know her. CEO's daughter from the Big City. She's still kinda a snob, huh? I wonder why she moved to Smalltowne. Eh….I can't be bothered to ask her. Last time we talked was when she tried to charm me into giving her a freelance job." Clukr: "Actually, I do not appreciate her calling me a nerd in a teasing manner. Additionally, she needs to learn self control. Curiosity kills the cat, they say, but in her case she's the cat that killed my PROGRESS IN THAT PROJECT THAT TOOK ME WEEKS TO POLISH! Huff. Excuse me for the unprecedented increase in my vocal volume." Fun Bot: "I love her groove! Especially when she starts doing the cool thing where she spins on the floor!" Vineria: "Hmmm…I don't talk to her much, our wavelengths are far off. But I sense that she's trying to be better, in whatever manner that might be…she seems nice."

Gray: "She's come a long way." Brud: "Me like Wenduh. Wenduh say me stinky. Me no stink. Wenduh bit mean. But still like Wenduh!" Garnold: "She's pretty alright. She teases me though. Oh, and she broke a bunch of our equipment once, and Clukr gets all agitated thinkin' about it, so…she can't really visit the lab anymore until we're both extra sure that she won't wreck anything." OWAKCX: "U- Uhhrrgh…s- s- she reminds me of someone…b- b-…bad…" Sky: "Wenda is so cool! She gave me this piercing on my ear in secret! She can't babysit me anymore though."

Mr. Sun: "Oh, yes, the Sassy one! She can be charming at times, but I wouldn't fall for her little tricks and bribes so easily! It can be tempting, though. Look at her, adorable!" Durple: "Wenda, my dearest bestie! She has been my right-hand lady since the very beginning, before we even moved into this town! I will not spare the personal details, but we have helped each other through troubles and tribulations! If there's one person in the world I'd want to live with for eternity…it would be her." Mr. Tree: "Her eyes…they seem exhausted, though she hides it under her eyeshadow. I know that look…" Simon: "Wenda is awesome! Sure she gets into a couple messes, but she's still the best at being her preppy, sassy self! And she's a great friend, especially to Durple! Kinda makes me wanna get closer to her and be her friend too, but I don't know much on how to gossip. That's their thing, ain't it? Oh, and she makes me look nice before events sometimes! I'd always look like a whole new Sprunki with her makeover, haha!" Tunner: "I'm still waitin' for her ta' tend to 'er 100 hours of unserved community service. I don't appreciate her giving my sonny an ear piercin' either. But…I don't really hate 'er. She just needs ta' learn that she can't get 'er way all the time."

Mr. Fun Computer: "She makes a great co-host to my gameshows! Her spunk is the key that makes it all feel extra special!" Pinki: "Wenda has such refined taste! She's given me recipes for foods I've never heard of before! Not just baked goodies, but anything that can be cooked, really! She says it's what people like to eat in the Big City. Sometimes they have funny names, but they come out quite good! I'll stick to my sweets, though. Heehee~! It's my thing!" Jevin: "Pointed ears, sharp as her words, Wenda may have lots to learn. Her eyes avoid my perceptive gaze, but I see the hidden kindness on her face. One more thing; she finds me chilling. Her reactions always send me giggling."

Black: "Can't really stand her sometimes. She thinks a couple coy looks in the eyes would get her free passes to do anything. Sorry, lass. The world doesn't work like that. Can I also just say how much I hate how picky she is? If it were something revolting I would understand, but she once hesitated to bite a hotdog. A HOTDOG. Imagine that?!" Saves: "She's a sweet young lady, I think. That's how I feel looking at her…I can't quite remember what our interactions were about, but…I do feel that she's good at heart." Ciqu: "Abysmal. 100 hours of community service can't do justice. She needs to be scrutinized and kept in a controlled environment." Sprinkles: “She’s pretty cool! She’s helped me pick cute outfits for things before and I like sharing my secrets with her. She’s got a lot of confidence! I hope to have a lot of that too when I grow up!” Calvin: “She’s awesome. She’s pretty laid back and basically lets us do whatever we want when she would take care of us. Like she let Sky get his ears pierced even though his dad got super irritated about it! I know she would do the same for me…but I don’t wanna get her in trouble again.”

[lorei-writes]

... Just some ramblings.

It happened several times that I've been told that I'm an optimist or an otherwise very positive person. There are certain things I don't complain about much, which I presume can give off the wrong idea that nothing goes too askew in my life. In that case, not despairing would be easy.

But that's not real. The time I spent being bedridden in 2022 & 2023 combined exceeds half a year. My day starts with 10+ pills. I've had to start the same degree three times now, despite never failing any exam. I got discarded on the basis of being ill. The list goes on -- I struggle like most people do... And I don't dislike my life. I enjoy being alive, even though some days I wonder why.

[Directed more so at myself than anybody else -- I wanted to organise them in my head a little, but I suppose it doesn't hurt to share it either.]

>> Contentment is everywhere. Enjoy the smallest things.

At one point it felt like settling for less, but now I think that was rather misguided. It's increasing your sensitivity to pleasure more than anything. It can help you stay present in the moment.

I can't have many treats, but I can still drink black tea. The feeling of the hot mug against my hands, the texture of the ceramic. The smell of the tea. Its taste. Being warmed from the inside. The way the loose leafs float in the water... Previously I'd just overlook it, but now it's more pleasurable than any cakes I would have had it with before.

It isn't to say that cakes don't taste good anymore. They're something "extra"... and now I just don't need that "extra" to be content.

>> Your life is the only one you have.

Wondering about "what ifs" is a waste of energy. You live only in the present and cannot rewrite your past. You can know a lot of answers to your "whys", but... if you don't live, don't move on, does that change much?

I cried about things being unfair, but that never made them fair. It's a pointless effort. The reality still is that I have to deal with a certain set of limitations (and a certain set of advantages), and that I can only try my best to work with that.

>> Humour helps. Not the self-depreciating one.

Some days you need to cry, and then, by all means, cry. Some things you may never want to laugh about... But some? Meh. They become so mundane they get funny, and at the end of the day, laughter's good for you. There are no brownie points for always being serious.

(I shall not talk about shitting with ghosts.)

>> Bitter? In tears? Live through it.

Putting on a front doesn't do anybody any favours. We're only humans. If you feel bitter or sad about something, you are bitter or sad about it. Allowing yourself to experience the negative emotion is... fine. I'd say it's only reasonable to sit with it and let it wash over you -- without spiralling and going into negative "nothing is ever going to be okay, everybody is bad, that person is rotten, yada yada" loops. Sometimes you just need to observe the mind.

>> Nobody can predict the future.

When everything goes askew, it is tempting to say that things will always be this way. Our brains like patterns. They love searching for them... at the same time, they're full of biases and a couple years hardly define the entire rest of your life. Things can fall apart in a week. They can also be brought back together... and ultimately, when you live in the future, you forget about the present, which is the only time you really have.

>> Nobody thinks about you as much as you do. In most cases it's not malice, it's just ignorance. (And everybody will be guilty of this.)

>> Everybody has hard days.

>> The you of today lives only today. Make the most use out of your time. Anticipate the internal reward you will get.

Do you have to start studying early for your exam? No. But... Think about the you from the future. Will they be happy to be able to just revise on the day before it? Or would you rather leave them with still having to work through a portion of the material? It may seem it's all "you", but "you" of today is not living with the same consequences as the "you" of tomorrow or two months from now. Help the "you" from the future! Anticipate the feeling of relief you'll get then! It's a team effort!

Lorei of the good days is constantly working so that Lorei of the bad days can be at ease.

>> Agency matters.

There are things that are outside of your control. Sometimes I can't sit up by myself. It's frustrating. However, I can also pick what book I'm going to read next, I can choose to take my medicine on time, I can choose to continue on studying. No matter how insignificant it seems, there's always a choice I can make, even if it's something as small as choosing to eat even though it hurts.

Some things I can't control. I'm not giving away the choices that are in my hands.

>> You control only yourself and your reactions.

Don't give power to other people. It's impossible to control how they feel or what they think about you. It's impossible to make people stay. It's all up to them, and yes, sometimes they will be hurtful, sometimes you will be misjudged. But whether you care about that is only up to you.

>> Forgive, but don't forget.

Holding onto grudges and feeding old emotion only wastes energy. Letting those control me or influence my actions would only give away the power I have. I can choose to move on and to be unaffected. And I can choose not to allow somebody close again, even though I don't feel anything about them.

>> You are not entitled to the consequences of your actions.

You can work your ass off and it can still not pay off. The only thing you can affect is what's within your grasp -- as such, worrying about outcomes becomes irrelevant.

>> One goal at a time. (Even if you have multiple of them: if you're working on thing A, you're working on thing A only.)

Separate goals within your mind. The more things you have to do and the more you mix them, the lower the satisfaction from progressing any of them.

>> If you're in pain and can't avoid it, accept it and feel it.

I can't take painkillers. Avoidance of inevitable pain only prolongs it. It's easier to take it when I accept it as bad as it is, and let it go through my system.

>> You may not be ready to do something. It doesn't mean you shouldn't do it.

>> Learn to fail. Failure is a feedback.

>> Discomfort is not danger.

It is good to learn to sit with your discomfort. Being comfortable with being uncomfortable makes learning, conflict resolution, and growth overall easier. You then don't have to appease emotion.

>> The self is fluid. Don't cling.

We all change. We're not marketable products with branding. Let yourself change... and even if you're stripped from all the things you've thought you were, it's not as scary. You are more than them.

There was a time when I was neither dexterous, nor smart, nor hard-working, nor useful, all against my will. I was none of the things I'd previously call myself... But I still was. It's not as scary to lose any of them anymore. I just am and that's enough.

>> Try to understand. You don't have to agree, but try to understand.

>> Be wary of your own arrogance. Don't assume you're absolved of ignorance.

>> You have more to give than you realise. And honestly? Giving to the right people is awesome.

... and there could be a couple more, but I've rambled my heart out, so I'm good now.

[wordywarriorwrites]

Heat

Heat |  A03 | Rating: M

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F! Reader

Summary: You and Frankie take the next step in your relationship.

Warnings: A/B/O. NSFW. Smut. Language.

The house smells like you.

Your scent permeates every corner, filling Frankie’s lungs and clouding his senses the moment he steps inside. The windows are wide open, welcoming in the cool, fall breeze, but the strength of the wind billowing the curtains and rushing through the house does nothing to dissipate it.

Ambrette, citrus, and ylang-ylang – he can taste it in the air. Just like a siren’s song, the urge to seek more of it is too powerful to ignore, and as soon as he sheds his coat and kicks off his boots, he lets his nose lead him past the kitchen, out of the living room, and into your shared bedroom.

The afternoon sun is high, and bright streaks of light coming in from the window above the clawfoot bathtub catch on the sweat beading your brow and along the column of your throat. Frankie wants to lap it. Savor it. Swallow it down.

Fuck, he’s so hungry for you…  

But you’ve been off for the past few weeks. Moping. Pouting. Making him sleep on the couch only to wake him in the middle of the night and insist he return to bed because you can’t sleep without him. You’ve been quick to anger and even quicker to tears, watching movies and reading books that upset you that much more. Frankie’s lost count of the number of times he’s catered to your nesting urges, and sex, once consistent and passionate, has seesawed between ferally enthusiastic or entirely absent.   

You swear it’s nothing.

But you called off work today. Now, you’re weaving on your feet, head dangling over the sink as if you may tip over at any second. Rivulets of water are streaming down the back of your neck, sliding off your mouth and chin to stop at the collar of your shirt. Your teeth are chattering, fingers curling into claws against the countertop as you groan and curse your discomfort.

It’s not nothing. It’s very much something. In fact, it’s everything.

He sends a couple of texts – one to his boss to clear his schedule for the time being, and the other to the guys, telling them to keep away until he says otherwise. Frankie doesn’t wait for responses; once the messages are out, he shuts off his phone, absentmindedly dropping it onto the nightstand and directing the entirety of his focus onto you.  

“Hermosa?” he calls, tone low and steady as he slowly approaches. “You alright?” 

“I forgot,” you breathe, furrowing your brow and pressing your hand to your lower abdomen. “I forgot how bad it hurts.” 

The distress and pain you feel – it rushes through the bonding mark so furiously, so swiftly, that it causes the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up.  

“Y’smell good enough to eat, guapo,” you croon, voice straining and breathy.  

He chuckles and inches closer, “You should’ve called me. I would’ve come back sooner.”  

You shake your head slowly, “You were in the air. Wasn’t gonna interrupt that.”  

“You need me, you call,” Frankie barks testily. “Nothing’s more important than you.” 

You’re too stubborn for your own damn good – jutting your chin and sticking out your tongue as if it were no big deal. As if today was just another day. Frankie, on the other hand, has been preparing for this since the moment you stopped taking your suppressants and birth control over a year ago, and he’ll be damned if he’s not at home with you for every, single moment of it.  

The changes in you over the past twelve months have prompted his own, special type of metamorphosis. While not nearly as drastic or severe as what you’ve gone through, his own body, behavior, and way of thinking have significantly altered.  

Adding on extra pounds, not cutting his hair, drenching himself in your scent, and encouraging you to renew the mark you graced him with – they’re all outward displays showing he’s strong and capable of taking care of his Omega and whatever offspring he may have with you. It also proves to unmated females and other Alphas looking to court that you’re his, he’s yours, and he intends to breed you.  

The heightened aggression, the need to protect you and the home you made together, and the urge to have you beneath him at all times – they’re all indicators that your fluctuating hormones have been doing their job, and he can physically, mentally, and emotionally feel you pulling him into a rut the likes of which he hasn’t experienced since first presenting.    

Frankie’s been stocking up on essential supplies while you’ve been not-so-subtly covering the bed with endless blankets and pillows to burrow in. You’ve been wearing the same shirt – his favorite shirt – for four days, and he can’t get you to take it off, even just to wash it. He also hasn’t showered in three days because all the books say not to, as it’ll be his unaltered, natural scent that grounds you and comforts you through it.     

Your first heat together. The first time trying for young together.

“Cariño, I think it’s time,” he murmurs. 

You swallow a handful of water and let out a ragged breath, “I know.”

Frankie takes it upon himself to turn off the tap, and as the water gurgles, he reminds you that you’re safe. You’re shaking, wincing with every breath, and he reassures you that everything you need is in the bedroom. He offers you a steady hand, and you place your trembling one in his, allowing him to guide you out of the ensuite. 

“We talked about this,” Frankie whispers against your temple, fingers reaching for the snap on your jeans. “We’re ready for this, aren’t we?”

You nod. Let out a croaky, ‘yes.’ He lowers the zipper and wrangles the well-worn denim past your hips and over your knees. Kneeling at your feet, he helps you step out of your pants and slips your socks off one by one. You’re already writhing, skin clammy and hot to the touch. Your scent, combined with your arousal, is so much stronger now, making his mouth water and his cock throb.  

This isn’t his first rut, and it’s difficult to put a leash on his baser instincts, to handle you with the delicacy and patience you deserve for your first heat with him, but he manages it. He can do anything, endure anything, for you.  

Frankie swallows hard and looks up at you, “I’ll take care of you. Promise.”  

You stare down at him – lips parted and eyes dilated, chest heaving and limbs tight. A tear slips down your cheek, and your stomach jumps when he presses a gentle kiss to the freckle above your belly button.  

He rises slowly, careful not to startle you. Mouth pressed into a hard line and fingers twisted in the hem of your damp t-shirt – he takes his own steadying breath and reminds himself this moment is precious, meaningful, and not to be spoiled.  

It takes effort to peel the cotton from your body, and your bra isn’t much better, the fabric straining and digging harshly into your skin. Frankie knows you’re uncomfortable, when he releases the hooks and gently slides the straps from your shoulders, you sigh. It’s that tiny, almost inaudible sound of relief that buoys him, fills his chest with something indescribable – makes him feel like a man worthy of his woman and an Alpha capable of servicing his Omega. 

“I can’t – I keep fucking crying,” you blurt, shoulders curled, and head bent. 

“S’okay, cariño,” he sighs, rocking you gently and nuzzling your neck. “I got you.” 

You make a sound in the back of your throat that vibrates through him, giving him a headrush that makes his hindbrain lean into you, into your mating, even more. You settle enough to undress him, and Frankie watches with rapt attention as your instincts unfurl like a clenched fist.  

Each seemingly insignificant action becomes tender, almost reverent, and absolutely wondrous. The way you look at him and scent-mark him. How you carefully touch him and move with him. The need to dominate, to assert his control, to make you present yourself to him – you’re somehow channeling it, meeting it, and feeding it with your own calming nature, and it brings a new balance to his rut that he’s never felt before.  

It’s a sacred dance. Ritualistic. Sensuous. Something your kind have done since the beginning of time and will no doubt continue to do long after the two of you are dust.  

When you’re both naked and settled deeply into the nest you built, the weight of it all, the seriousness of it – it’s still there, but it becomes less of a burden and more of an honor. The two of you are as you’ve always been – bared to each other, vulnerable, but safe. Committed. Loving.  

“Te amo,” you murmur. “So much, Frankie.”

Frankie presses a kiss to your forehead, “I love you, too, hermosa.” 

The corner of your mouth quirks – a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it thing that gets wiped away when you cup his cheek and kiss him, and he simply melts into you, into the assurance of your touch and the comfort of your presence and the way it all just clicks into place.  

Tears return. This time, you let out great, heaving sobs of relief when he gets you off with his fingers, and his own scent surges in response to mingle with yours. Your release takes the edge off the pain and eventually gives way to even more pleasure when he puts his mouth to use to make you come until your thighs shake. 

“Papi,” you entreat, fingers tugging at his curls. “I – I need…”  

“I know querida,” he groans, licking into your mouth. “Let me give it to you, yeah?” 

His mustache is covered in your slick. Your inner thighs are littered with his teeth marks. The peak of your nipple against the flat of his tongue and the heel of your foot pressing into the meat of his ass. You’re lying on your side, and he takes you just like that – bodies slotting together like two puzzle pieces as he bottoms out in a single thrust.  

Your core is molten and saturated, fluttering and squeezing, and you hold him in an embrace that’s simultaneously tender and urgent. The soft sounds you make, the way your breath stutters, and how your tongue tastes when he sucks on it. There’s no hiding your greed, or how desperately he wants to breed you, and when you bare your teeth and demand more from him, the pleased rumble Frankie lets out is more beast than man. 

“Fuck, you feel s’good,” he grunts, digging his fingers into your thigh, allowing his hips to swing freely for a moment before slowing. “I’m tryin’ not to – I don’t wanna…”   

You nip at his chin and rake your nails down his shoulder, “M’ready. I can take it.” 

It doesn’t take much to maneuver you into place, and you fall into the presenting position with such graceful ease, with such eagerness, that something in his chest tightens.

Lazy thrusts morph into harsher snaps of his hips. You go lax, limbs supple and spine melting, and when the tears fall this time, you’re smiling – brow smoothed, looking resplendent, and entirely pleased with yourself. He slips a hand between your thighs and strokes clit, bringing forth another rush of wetness that will make the next part easier.  

When you’ve saturated his groin, Frankie finally drapes himself over your back, rocks into you as deeply as your body will allow, and digs his teeth into your scent gland until you yip out a comingled sound of submission and pleasure. 

“Tell me, mi pequeño lobo,” he pants in your ear. “Tell me you want this.”  

“I want this,” you repeat throatily. “I want you. Please, Alpha…”  

It’s as if your words are the permission he needs to give in to the instinct – to finally let go and do what needs to be done. Supporting you, protecting you, and loving you – it’s just the beginning of a story that’s still being written. Breeding you, knowing it will likely be successful, that he’ll have made you his in the most primal of ways – that’s the next chapter.  

Frankie’s orgasm is indescribably, incomparably intense. A prolonged release that feels too good, one that’s on the knife’s edge of pain, somehow bringing forth feelings of helplessness and complete control. The delirious sense of peace he feels when he knots you. And when you come again for him, and your body just takes it all – accepting everything he has to offer – it’s wonderous in the extreme. 

Spooning you to keep you close, to supply comfort, to keep you warm, and to ensure nothing is lost or wasted – it’s as natural as breathing. Eyes welling. Pride surging. Frankie’s seen you safely through the first wave, and again, it’s your sigh and contentment coming through the bond that lets him know he’s done everything right.  

“We’re ready for this,” you tell him, voice full of excitement and certainty. 

“Si, mi corazón,” he agrees, your echoing of his earlier words renewing his own conviction and joy. “We’re ready for this.” 

[faulty-writes]

Thank for you previous answer ! The girls do deserve more attention 😔

Since your requests seems to be still open, may I please request something for Tenya and our favorite girlboss Mei dating a 1-A student who's a nepo baby and thus, their relationship being the subject of a lot of gossip ? (You write tenya really well I can't help myself but ask something for him)

I hope you're having a great week-end 😌

[ Ironically enough, Mei is my second favorite ship with Iida. The first would be Uraraka. Either way, this request sounds awesome! If you're familiar with My Hero Academia: Vigilantes, you'll recognize who the father of the "nepo baby" reader is. If you haven't read that manga, I suggest doing so because it is amazing. ]

Who could have imagined years and years after your father visited Japan, you'd make the choice to enroll at Yuuei. Of course, being from America and the child of the Playboy Hero: Captain Celebrity was a big deal.

From the start, you recalled how others stared at you. Bewildered at your existence. Well, all except one. "Hello!" he bellowed out, chopping his hand through the air. "My name is Tenya Iida. I am very honored to have a student of such high status join us at this prestigious learning establishment!"

You hated that your father's playboy reputation followed you, unlike him you preferred to remain loyal to the one you loved. Of course, this didn't stop rumors from starting the moment everyone found out that you and Tenya were dating. "I suppose that is rather troubling, but I do not believe rumors are made in just," Part of you wanted to know how long that perspective would last.

"Pardon, please step away from Y/n," he said, clenching his fists by his sides and staring daggers at Neito who had pinned you against the wall. "Oh, come now, they were flirting with me! And rumor has it they have a bit of a crush on me, heh. Perhaps you're too ordinary for them, after all as a bit of a celebrity baby myself, I think Y/n and I would make the perfect couple," Tenya naturally became infuriated with those words and explained the wrongs Neito had committed before politely dragging you away.

"It's somewhat disheartening to know our relationship has garnered so much attention," he stated, tapping his chin as he looked outside at the group of paparazzi. "It's not so bad once you get used to it kid!" your father, otherwise known as Captain Celebrity said, slapping Tenya on the shoulder with a bright smile. "Forgive me," he replied, shrugging your father's hand off. "But I do not wish to make Y/n go through such complications," although part of him hated the rumors that continued to circulate about your relationship.

"I...I am not quite sure how to respond to...such a thing," Tenya stated, looking at his phone. There was an article published with a picture of you and him. He was wearing his Ingenium suit with his arm wrapped around you, but it appeared as though you were in some weird love triangle because you were also holding onto Deku's hand. You frowned when you noticed the title of the article, 'Celebrity Student Love Affairs.'

Gossip was strenuous, to say the least, and you were more than certain Tenya would end your relationship due to the unwanted attention. But as usual, he used logic to make it work. "Perhaps this is but a taste of the inner workings of a hero's life. I am well aware that you are rather...famous in your own regard and I...I am quite honored to be with you and our romantic endeavor regardless of the challenges it presents," sometimes you wondered if he'd make a better poet than a hero student.

Mei was the bubbliest girl you had ever met, and when she found out you were a celebrity baby. Well, she took advantage of it as she often did with others if it meant her inventions, or "babies" as she called them, got attention. In the words of Shota Aizawa, "She's a born saleswoman" and boy did she sell you right into a relationship.

"Oh, try this on! It's baby number 5706!" she exclaimed excitedly with that bright smile that made your heart race. "Now strike a pose!" she demanded, holding her phone up. "Once they see my babies are used by a celebrity baby, there'll be no stopping the businesses that will contact me!" While you were happy to help Mei become more recognized, you had your hopes you were more than just an advertisement opportunity for her.

Mei was rarely serious, but when you brought up your suspicions that she was using your "relationship" to boost her ego for the first time you saw her frown. "Don't get me wrong, my babies are super important to me! And it's good to have someone in the spotlight to advertise them! But...you're my ultimate baby!"

"Yeah, I swear man! Y/n flirted with me yesterday!" Hanta announced, purposely allowing Mei to overhear. But she was either too busy with her current invention to bother or she was ignoring him. "Hey Hatsume!" he called, "How do you feel about that!?" She paused and turned to look at him with a smile. "Sorry, what was your name again?" she honestly didn't care about the rumors and even if you were flirting, she'd figure out a way to keep your heart. After all, she wasn't one to easily give up.

She handled the paparazzi pretty well or at least better than you imagined. In fact, she took the opportunity to hold you close and do just about anything publicly acceptable to show her affection for you. She also answered any curious questions or rumors about your relationship and what it was like to date the child of famous celebrity heroes. It all boiled down to her accepting you for who you were rather than your predetermined title as a celebrity baby.

She was strangely protective of you, especially when you invited her to high-class events that your parents attended. "That's the power of my latest baby!" She announced after successfully crushing the lens of a paparazzi member's camera who had tried to take scandalous pictures of you with someone else. They got frightened away and Mei proceeded to hold you close for the rest of the night.

[erstwhilesparrow]

I just saw that post you reblogged about archiving MCYT stuff - is there a particular reason stuff disappears so often? (That's very cool people are putting in so much effort to preserve it, though; big respect to that tbh)

reyni! :D okay i should be clear upfront that some of my information may be incomplete here because (1) i don't have twitter and (2) i'm not directly involved in any mcyt archival efforts. also putting this under a cut because it's long and i do need to reference recent events involving abuse and sexual assault:

despite mcyt = minecraft youtube(r), a lot of stuff relevant to mcyt happens like. exclusively on stream? really, really ~plot-critical or deeply characterizing stuff happens on stream sometimes and never makes it into a youtube video! and on twitch at least, unless you explicitly set it to save your vods, twitch will just delete them after a certain number of days. i don't know exactly how this works if you stream on youtube but also my impression is that a significant majority of people are not streaming on youtube anyway. since fairly early in my time in mcyt fandoms, there's been concern about creators not saving their own vods, and on top of that, sometimes you save a vod and it gets taken down anyway for copyright infringement (playing copyrighted music, the creator themself asked for it to be removed, etc). so like. as baseline, there's a sense of inherent ephemerality to the medium. that post i reblogged is explicitly pushing back against the description of mcyt vods as "a constantly burning library of alexandria," and in light of the evidence that follows i agree (and also am a little weepy about the efforts people make to save these things), but that sense doesn't come from nowhere, you know?

speaking of that post though, i suspect this archival stuff is coming up More now because it's been a rough couple of weeks in mcyt fandom. several really influential creators in the space were recently outed as being abusive or predatory in a way that's caught a lot of attention, and many people in response have been (understandably!) deleting their fanworks or otherwise distancing or removing themselves from mcyt fandom. i want to be clear, i know stuff gets deleted all the time in fanspaces -- the internet is kind of just Like That in terms of how easy it is to lose things -- and it's incredibly fair to go "no, even if there was a strong distinction between character and creator this leaves a sour taste in my mouth and i'm not doing this anymore." i don't want to pretend that no one has ever deleted a fanwork outside of mcyt spaces, and i don't want to insinuate that it's bad to vocally revoke your support of those creators -- those people have done awful things and generally failed to meaningfully apologize or take accountability, and it is worth remembering and saying so. but to give you a sense of numbers: antimony-medusa does monthly stats on mcyt fic on ao3, and dsmp, which even after it's kind of died off has seen monthly increases in the range of hundreds of new fic per month, saw a decrease of roughly 800 fics. other fandoms have similarly seen decreases, and video blogging rpf, which ao3 treats as an umbrella for basically all mcyt stuff, saw an increase of 51, as compared to last month's increase of (approximately) 3500. and that's just fic -- there's also a rich trove of animatics, fanvids, fanart, etc that i don't have any numbers for, but i've seen people talking about deleting those, too, you know? you see how people might be worried about what we are losing.

at this point i think your question is answered, but if you'll forgive some baseless speculation here, i wonder to what extent mcyt is also. complicated by how closely character and creator can sit? i don't know how other people feel, but there is a difference to me between "i've written fic about This Person Specifically (or, arguably, their streamer persona which may be somewhat divorced from the Real Life Human Being Behind The Screen)" and "i've written fic about a character this person plays." i dunno, there's a sense to me of the flimsiness of the line between creator and character and then also of the line between creator and fandom that i think makes it harder to be like "okay, i am doing my own thing, separate from the creator, so i'm going to keep my stuff public even if i don't stand by it 100% anymore." i remember when i first joined mcyt fandom, there was a period of time people were really worried that the creators were actively on ao3, or that fans would try to send their fanfic directly to the creators. i thought to myself, "well, if anyone Tries Shit with my work, i will simply delete all my relevant accounts and disappear." that's... not really a back-up plan that i feel good about these days, but. you know. it's been a thing, if not always for the same reasons, and i do understand the impulse.

[vinylshelves]

Edward Nashton Headcanons

This is extremely self-indulgent because I have Eddie brainrot, but I thought it would work as my first post! I would love to do more of these (hell Eddie takes up half of my brain I think of something new every day) so I will be sure to post more! I would love to do relationship hc’s in the future and some for other characters <3

---

- This man would spend ¾ of the time he spends in his apartment in hoodies. He prefers pullovers but kinda likes the way zip ups slip off of his shoulders 

- ^ In addition to this, I feel like he would spend the other ¼ of his life just chilling topless, he hasn’t got anyone around to tell him otherwise so why not? He especially likes the freedom that comes with it after being in the orphanage. 

- He's a pillow hugger, whether this be while he’s sat on the sofa or in bed, he likes the comfort that it brings him (this spreads to the fact that with a s/o he would cling to them constantly.)

- Carries around a ‘pocket puzzle’ book with him 24/7 to do on the subway home or on his breaks at work (once thought about subscribing to a monthly puzzle subscription before deciding they would be too easy for him). 

- All of his cameras/devices are covered with either a webcam cover or just a blanket - he knows the dangers with these things and is not prepared to take ANY risks. 

- He always walks past flower shops near his apartment and will sometimes buy himself the odd bouquet, or maybe just a couple flowers. He tries to go for very ‘green’ colours

- ^ he also wants to be able to keep houseplants but he knows he would kill them so he has a small plastic succulent and a single cactus instead - he’s doing well with it so far

- Lactose intolerant. He finds it’s not too bad but that may just be because he’s never really tried to stop so he just kinda,,, deals with it.

- Has a weird aversion to the smell of fried food, or just oily foods cooking in general. Loves the taste, but he finds he can only get takeaways cos he can’t sit there with the smell.

- He tries his best to stay as fresh as he can and showers most days, but he sweats so much that in under an hour he already needs another shower

- ^ has tried almost every brand of deodorant to combat this and now uses an ‘extra strong’ antiperspirant and then a second, nicer smelling one, over the top.

- ^ Although he does try to stay as clean as he can (mostly for himself) he finds that he can get so invested in work that he just, forgets? He only realizes after like three days when he coughs and realizes, ‘oh shit, I should clean my teeth’

- He doesn’t drink black coffee, he finds it too bitter (“It’s an acquired taste” he tells himself) - he loves cappuccinos and lattes and his guilty pleasure is how much he really really loves a vanilla and hazelnut syrup mix. 

- ^ Treats himself to this ‘sweet’ coffee each Friday after work, it's one of his ways of rewarding himself.

- He loves looking at ‘his’ subreddit, seeing all his fans (and a few haters) either try to figure out who he is or just gush to each other about his newest traps. He gets really giggly when he thinks about how hard these idiots must be trying to track him down.

- He has rosacea and blushes super easily, he gets really self conscious about it at work until one of his coworkers called it ‘cute’ in passing (he didn’t stop thinking about it for weeks)

- He's actually really good with kids and absolutely loves babies. Even though he’s pretty socially anxious, if he’s walking through a park and sees a baby he will not hesitate to approach and ask to say hello. 

- ^ spent a lot of time with the babies in the orphanage as it was relatively quiet in there with them compared to everywhere else.

- Constantly has headphones in. At work and at home he uses these noise canceling headphones that he bought himself for Christmas one year. They fit perfectly over his ears and sometimes he just reminds himself how good of a purchase they actually were.

- ^ When he’s out and about though, be it shopping, walking through Gotham or just sitting in the diner, he uses these shitty earbuds he bought at a dollar store. He feels safer to be able to hear what’s happening around him in public.  

- He doesn’t really feel the need to drink alcohol that often but when he does he prefers fruity drinks, loves a good mojito or passion fruit martini and will occasionally treat himself to a strawberry daiquiri. 

- ^ When he does get drunk he gets giggly real quick. Goes red as can be as soon as his lips touch that glass. He prides himself on the fact that he doesn’t get hangovers (but really he’s just never actually drunk enough to even get to that point).

- Always doodles on napkins, wherever he goes. He’s slowly realized that he’s getting quite good at sketching portraits. 

- Will start laughing randomly at a joke he thought of like a week ago and wont stop this intermittent laughing for hours. 

- Realizes one day that he’s never really thought about his sexuality and just comes to the conclusion that he really doesn’t care. He spends the next couple days just admiring everyone he sees on his commute.

- Got a gym membership but can’t figure out how to cancel it. He tried asking the lady at the desk once to help him but she put up a fight so he just backed down. Now guilt trips himself to go once a week even if he just goes on the treadmill and takes a shower. 

- He moves around a lot when he sleeps, really spreads himself out. Will sometimes wake up with all sheets and pillows off the bed and his head at the bottom and he just looks around for a bit like, what the actual fuck?

- Both of his eyes have very different prescriptions, his left is like +5 while his right is like +7.5

- ^ Has always wanted to try contact lenses but can't fathom the idea of putting his fingers near his eyes, it just creeps him out too much. 

-  He can’t figure out why he doesn’t grow facial hair, however he slowly grows to appreciate that fact when he overhears guys at work talking about ‘ingrown hairs’ and shaving and thinks, yeah, not for me.

- Snorts when he laughs (because I say so, snorts ftw) 

- He doesn’t label himself as a vegetarian, but he hasn’t eaten meat for most of his life, maybe the odd thing to try if he goes out for a meal after work but otherwise doesn’t eat meat, he finds the texture ‘funny’. 

- Loves watching nature documentaries and has at least 7 books about ‘how to be eco friendly’ on his nightstand, he's a soft guy at heart.

- Always forgets to clip his nails, he just doesn’t deem it as necessary. He’ll see that they’re getting too long once every month and will chew them off.

- If he’s walking home at night and sees a girl alone he will cross the road to make them feel more comfortable, though after he crosses he starts panicking thinking ‘what if that looks even weirder’ or ‘they’re gonna call the police oh my god-’

- Doesn’t really like fizzy drinks. He never got them growing up in the orphanage and he doesn’t like the way his eyes water when he swallows too much at once. 

- ^ Absolutely LOVES ice tea though, has tried almost every flavor and has decided that peach is his favorite 

- Secretly loves romcoms. If there's ever one on TV he will watch it like a baby watching cocomelon. That night when he finally goes to sleep he plays through all the scenarios in the film.

- ^ Although he’s not overly interested in the idea of being in a relationship, sometimes he lets himself think about the domestic side of things while he’s doing chores, (‘what if there was someone cooking with me?’ sitting on the sofa with someone) gets all soppy for the rest of the week and it’s all he can think about. 

- Never uses the main light source in his apartment, only lamps.

- ^ It has to be warm lighting.

-----

[orange-waterfalls]

Unnecessary Feelings

The Host x gn!reader

ty anon for the request

A/N: BRO. Bro. Bro I. I am so proud of this one don’t even look at me. Also happy spooky month! Might do something with that, idk though. This is more of another character study with the Host, I’ll be honest. I still think it’s pretty cute, though. I didn’t read back through this, lmk about any mistakes. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.4k

Unnecessary Feelings

Host isn’t particularly looking for a relationship, of any sort. Not necessarily. It would be nice, but it isn’t at the forefront of his mind. It’s not that important. Change is weird. He’s been in his same office, writing the same kind of stories, with the same kind of people. That’s fine. He likes that. He likes his novels, his protagonists, and his office.

He explained all of these things to Wilford and Darkiplier, but neither was having it. That’s how he ended up staying at the manor for a while, while his place was being “renovated”. He didn’t know how much he trusted Wilford to “renovate” correctly. 

Wilford likes pink. A lot. Host doesn’t. He can't see it, but he knows it. Pink was loud. Pink smelled like raspberries and icing and cherry blossoms and shrimp. It sounded like fair music and joyful screaming and chalk scraping on the ground. It felt smooth and soft and squishy. It tasted like sugar, sugar, sugar, too much to be healthy. Pink made his brain hurt. He doesn’t like pink. Wilford likes pink. Wilford… Wilford fucking loves pink. And Wilford will say it’s pink, and Host will know it’s pink, and even though he can’t see it, he’ll be upset that it’s pink. He doesn’t like pink. He doesn’t know how to say it. So he doesn’t. And he copes.

He takes the opportunity to talk to the others staying at the manor, which was pretty much just Dr. Iplier and… you. Dr. Iplier was a… reasonable man. He was boring. Very boring, really. He directed every conversation to discuss your health or a weird patient he had recently, neither of which really interested the Host. He didn’t enjoy talking to Dr. Iplier too much. 

You, however…

Were also kind of boring?

Well, you mostly just wandered around, reading, cleaning, sleeping, not doing much else. He didn’t initiate conversation and neither did you. If you sat next to him on the couch and he sat a little straighter and breathed a little faster, that was simply a coincidence. And the urge to talk to you about his novel for hours was simply boredom. And the desire to listen to you talk for hours was… it was none of your goddamn business is what it was. He didn’t like you, but he didn’t dislike you either. He felt nothing. You made him feel nothing. This didn’t mean anything.

Really. 

It didn’t.

But, entirely too fast, Dark and Wil were done. Or rather, whoever they hired was done. Which was good. Host bid you two goodbye. Dr. Iplier told him to drink plenty of water but not too much, and you told him you’d keep an eye out for his newest novel. He felt like he should be blushing right now, he felt it in his face. Nobody commented, so he assumed he didn’t. He felt a thing happen in his chest as he looked at the two of you. 

He didn’t like either of you, and if he kept telling himself that, maybe it would come true.

He received a new office. It was much cleaner and brighter, and he actually had room to think. There was an espresso machine in the corner atop a pink table, a “dandelion” yellow couch next to it, a pastel pink desk against the opposite wall, and a few “motivational” posters on the baby blue walls. At least from what he’d heard. Wilford did his best to explain the room. He appreciated that the walls were not, in fact, pink like he expected.

He had to walk around a few times, keep track of his steps, and get used to the new layout. It’s a good room. Clean. No nails sticking out of the floor, no rats scurrying around, no cobwebs, no holes, no nothing. Clean and quiet. Clean. And. Quiet.

… 

He fucking hates the goddamn room.

Who likes silence? Who enjoys that? Who wants to be stuck in a suffocatingly clean office with nothing but their thoughts for hours at a time? Homicidal people, that’s who.

Ignore the fact that he has homicidal tendencies and has almost killed/has killed several people, that doesn’t matter right now.

He can just sit and deal. He can take the office, try to coax the rats into coming back, buy some spiders, and write. No big deal.

Except what if he didn’t deal? What if he told them he hated it and couldn’t work in these conditions? What if he was forced to stay at the manor again? What if he could… talk… and interact with people? Without anything barring him from doing so?

He’s… not lonely. 

He’s not lonely. 

He’s not.

But if he stays in the manor again while Wilford talks about how he has no taste and Darkiplier decides to be in charge of the renovation now, that’s not his fault.

Bim, Eric, and you were staying at the manor when he had to. For the second time. Bim had a thing for rom-coms and dramedy movies, and Eric had started to pick that thing up. You and Host also watched the movies, but whether you actually liked them was beyond him. Usually, you made fun of them together. He couldn’t see them, but he could hear a lot of the ridiculous dialogue. He could drop two random people in a closed-off room together and they’d have more chemistry than half of these Hallmark Christmas Movie couples. You were very quiet during “To All The Boys I Loved Before”, however, so either you loved it or you hated it. He couldn’t really tell.

You two talked a little less than before, you being preoccupied with Eric. Host was fine with that. He could just… talk to you whenever you were done. But you apparently had a low social battery and trapped yourself in a room whenever you were done talking to Eric. That was fine. Host didn’t need to be happy anyways. 

He may or may not have showed up at your door first thing in the morning sometimes to get the chance to talk to you. You didn’t know, so it was fine.

But Eric and Bim were smart. They picked up on the Host’s… “feelings” and desire to talk to you. If either were in a room with you and Host, they immediately left so that you could talk. It worked, and Host was happy, but he felt kind of bad.

No. No he didn’t. He felt no emotion towards anyone or anything. The suit he bought for Bim and the journal he bought for Eric meant absolutely nothing. It was a business transaction. You can’t prove anything.

Somehow quicker than before, the room was fixed. Again. And you, Eric, and Bim saw him off. Eric’s voice sounded wet and Bim sounded a little sad as well. You sounded… fine. But he had a suspicion that you knew you were going to see him again soon. And Host was not upset, of course not. And if he was thankful his eyes weren’t exactly working properly because otherwise he might have shed a few tears, it was completely unrelated. You can’t prove anything.

The new room was completely black and white. Black laptop and a white desk with a black chair. White walls and a black floor. A white couch against the wall. No espresso machine this time, which slightly disappointed the Host. 

Darkiplier sounded proud when he explained the room. Host could see why, it sounded very pretty. Which he tried to say when he turned to Darkiplier. But his traitorous mouth instead said:

“Host asks if this room is meant for the Host or you?”

The Host was teleported back to the manor this time. Wilford was standing out in front, Host knew because he heard the man’s distinct yell of surprise. He also smelled gunsmoke and wine.

“Wilford.”

“Host. What are you doing here?”

“The Host asks what you are doing here?”

“... I asked you first.”

“The Host asked you second.”

“... business. You?”

“... business.”

“Ah… well, cheers.” Quick footsteps get quieter as Wilford runs away. Host stood for a moment,  debating whether or not to apologize to Dark. Before he could decide, the door opened.

“Host?” You asked. Host instantly felt himself straighten up and ball his fists.

“Hello.” He said stiffly.

“Another renovation?” He heard the smile in your voice and forced himself not to smile back.

“Host assumes so.” He nodded.

“So…” You sighed.

“So?” He tilted his head.

“Are you coming in?” You asked. Host let himself smile as he walked into the manor.

He didn’t see you all too much for the rest of the week, and he was severely disappointed. There wasn’t really anybody staying there, just a few people visiting over a few days. Yancy, Illinois, and maybe Bing, if the sound of a skateboard at 3 in the morning was any clue. He was pretty much alone. And that was fine. He was usually alone. He was used to it. This was fine.

Maybe he should stop lying to himself so often.

All too soon, he was on his way back. Again. You were the only one to see him off this time.

“Well… um…” You started. The tension between you two was like a punch to the gut. You were perfectly fine before. What happened?

“Host bids you farewell,” He nodded politely and turned around. Maybe if he left quickly, it wouldn’t hurt as much.

“Wait, Host!” You called. He froze. “I’m, uh… I’m coming with you.” He spun around to face you.

“Host… asks what you mean?”

“I wanna… see your office. I mean, if I’m… allowed to visit?” You said meekly. Host felt his heart quicken.

“The Host would love-like that,” He coughed as he corrected himself. 

“Ok, good,” He could hear the smug smile in your voice. Damn him and his… feelings.

The commute to his thrice-new office was almost silent. Neither of you said anything. You most likely wanted to wait for the Host to start the conversation, but he didn’t want to bother you if you didn’t want to talk. It was a little awkward. But after a while, it became comfortable. He liked just being in your presence.

He thought that was what he would miss most about the manor.

You both stood outside of his office door when you arrived.

“Well… here we are.” You whispered. Host nodded solemnly. “Do you want to do the honors.” Host lifted his hand to the doorknob, feeling himself shake. He clutched the doorknob, not moving an inch. He could feel your eyes on him. You were worried. This was fine. 

You could visit. But what if you didn’t want to? What if you saw his stories? What if you thought he was cruel? He was, but not to you. He would never be to you. He could stop. He could write different stories. He could write a romance! It would still affect people’s lives, but for the better? At least until the story ended and he had no control over it. What if you wanted him to stop? He couldn’t just stop. Would you give him an ultimatum? You wouldn’t… would you?

“Host--” You started. He whipped around to face you.

“The Host does not want to enter the room.” He said, voice wavering a little. He cleared his throat. Embarrassing.

“What? Ho-”

“The Host wants to talk to people. The Host… wants friends. The Host wants to stay with you and the others.” He grits out. God, this was pathetic. Was he begging? 

“Host, open the door.” You sighed. The Host froze. What? Why were you… what?

Oh. So that was it. You were seeing him off… for the last time. You didn’t… you… didn’t like… 

Right. Yeah. You were a polite person. He should’ve known.

“But…” He trailed off and faced the floor.

“Host, I really think you should open the door,” You said, the smile clear in your voice. His eyebrows furrowed. Well, you didn’t have to be so eager about it, Jesus.

The Host grabbed the doorknob and threw the door open with a crack against the wall.

“Jesus, man!” Bim’s distinct game show voice sounded from inside the room. Left front corner. “What’s got your boxers in a bunch?”

“I always thought he was a boxer-briefs man.” Dr. Iplier said from the opposite side.

“I can confirm that he is, in fact, a boxer-briefs man.” Google said from the same place as Dr. Iplier.

“I honestly would’ve thought commando.” Eric’s voice was muffled, as if he was facing away from everyone else.

What… What the fuck?

“What. The fuck.” He said loudly. You clapped a hand on his shoulder, making him jump.

“Surprise! We’re invading your office. Please don’t resist.” He could, again, hear the smirk on your face. He almost wanted to be mad. Almost.

“What?” He turned to you. You let go of him and stepped in.

“We fixed your room! You got your bland-ass beige walls, your hardwood floor, cobwebs, dust, and I think there’s a rat somewhere in the walls…”

“His name is Remy!” Eric said happily.

“Sorry, Remy is somewhere in the walls.” Host didn’t move, still processing this whole situation.

“The Host… doesn’t understand…” He rubbed his temples.

“Well, you seemed… lonely. And we like spending time with you. So… we’re gonna spend time with you!” Bim explained.

“You don’t have to do things alone anymore. Just… call someone up and we’ll come hang out.” Dr. Iplier said.

“Only if you ask, though.” Eric added softly. Host didn’t move for a long while.

The others began to fidget, thinking they did something wrong. Eventually, he took a breath, and everyone else held theirs.

“Is… is the Host’s equipment still here?” He asked.

“Your writing stuff? Yeah, it’s on the desk.” You answered. Host went quiet again, thinking.

“Do… You guys want to help the Host write something?” He mumbled.

“Hell yeah we do!” You clapped your hands once. Host made his way over to his desk. All the others, including you, crowded around him as soon as he sat down, pushing each other to get a good look.

This was slightly claustrophobic and pretty uncomfortable… 

…

It was perfect.

[sukumen]

Im that one anon who screamed. ANYWAY...

what about headcanons for Sukuna when he finds out reader is pregnant? (E.g. reactions and how he would approach reader)

Lets keep our heads in the clouds 🙄

notes: oh goodness, honey --- let’s get into it :)  warnings: nsfw/18+, breeding mentions, pregnancy kink of sorts, very brief mention of murder (seriously), cumfeeding. for context, you may want to read reverence first (which has its own warnings), but it’s not required!

he finds out the same way he does every other pregnancy at the compound: smoke rising from the main house to signal another womb sowed, another show of his power. 

but he doesn’t realize it’s you that’s pregnant until the ceremony that follows, when you’re presented before his throne in a lavish kimono and a headpiece that bears his name.

you’ve been living in the central altar even without child for the past month; he’d carried you there himself after fucking you three ways into delirium in front of the other women and kept you for breeding every day thereafter. so, it’s no real surprise that his efforts have taken; but that doesn’t mean he isn’t ecstatic.

before any celebration happens, he kills the attendant that had taken so long to tell him. all that pomp and circumstance bores him anyway, and it’s no secret that you’re his favorite --- he should have known the moment conception was confirmed.

once that’s taken care of, though, he’s all over you, cock already leaking at the thought of his child inside you.

for the first time ever, the way he fucks you feels almost normal.

it’s all driven by his need, of course --- that extreme lust he feels for a fertile woman carrying his heir --- but, he’s more careful with you than usual. holds you in his lap and bounces you slowly as he rains down rare praise.

“i knew you’d bear my seed --- i knew you’d give that womb to me.”

somehow, he probably fucks you more when you’re pregnant than he did to get you pregnant. he can smell the changes in your body constantly, which riles him up enough, but actually seeing them?

that makes him absolutely feral.

the first time he picks out a bump through your clothing, he’s unhinged. grabbing, licking, biting as he fills you. he hates that he has to be so conscious during sex now to avoid stressing your body, but he finds ways around it.

like stuffing your mouth full of his cock while you lay on your side, head nearly in his lap. If it were anyone else, he’d have them sitting on their knees until he said otherwise, but he likes to get his hand on your tummy when you’re sucking him.

it makes fucking your face that much nicer.

it probably becomes a ritual throughout the pregnancy - him feeding you cum like nutrients to keep your body accustomed to him.

you don’t enjoy it at first --- the taste, while not bad, is definitely odd and it’s embarrassing when he interrupts actual meals to do it simply because he knows he will be leaving for some time not long after.

( the staff tending to you don’t even blink - they’ve seen worse. )

but after a couple weeks, you’re resigned.

a few more, anticipant.

sometimes, you’re even craving it; head bowed respectfully as you ask to fish his cock out for him.

sukuna, of course, is more than happy to oblige.

[emotionallyits2009]

deancas fic rec list!

hello everyone! happy christmas to those who celebrate it, my gift to you is my fic rec list that i said i would make like a month ago. the only thing it is organized by is canonverse vs alternate universe. tried to cover a variety of subjects but there are in particular many fics of the genre “postcanon where cas is human and he and dean live together and slowly finally get their shit together” because i know what i’m about, son. HOPE U ENJOY. and if you wanna talk about any of them or rec me other fics please do. :) 

Canonverse:

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo, 30k, explicit “Are you happy? Y’know. Just—being here,” Dean says, gesturing to the yard with his beer bottle. “Being with—I mean, you used to fight in celestial wars and—and save the world. Now you’re growing vegetables and talking about chickens.” There are many fics set in a post-canon universe where Cas is human and he and Dean live together and slowly fall into a relationship. Imo this one is the best of the best of that genre. This was one of the first fics I read back in July when I was getting Back Into Supernatural where I was like oh fuck I’m like in this. Dean builds Cas planters and bookshelves and a chicken coop and they fight and work through it.

Cuckoo And Nest by komodobits, 10k, explicit For a long time, Castiel thought that every earthly possession other than the immediately necessary was excess to requirement. But Dean – Dean who named his car, who keeps a photograph of his mother in his wallet, some thirty-plus years after her death, who still has the crumpled ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign with a sleeping pelican emblazoned on it from the Microtel outside of Roanoke where he first kissed Castiel, clumsy and unsure, under the unsteady fluorescence of an exhausted bathroom bulb – is sentimental. It puzzles Castiel, where Dean draws the line between what is meaningful and what it is worthless. Really Gets the dynamic of Cas doesn’t think Dean wants him to stay/Dean thinks Cas will leave the first chance he gets. Also a nice example of Cas thinking he’s not wanted if he’s not useful/powerful and being told otherwise. Another all-time fave!

lonely hearts by outphastthemoat, 4.5k, gen He thinks he might give up having his own anything just to be able to step foot inside the room next door and sit on the edge of Dean’s bed instead. This one is for the CAS GIRLS who know what LONELINESS feels like.

Helionneiros by aeli_kindara, 24.2k, mature In which Dean visits his mother, and Claire takes Cas on a hunt. I’m always on the lookout for more fic with Claire and Jack. Jack doesn’t show up until the end here but the relationship between Cas and Claire is really nice.

Crawl by aeriallon, 11k, explicit It’s been almost four years since Castiel left Kansas; he'd eventually settled in an island town where he has a job, a house, and a life without the Winchesters. Every winter, Dean drives down to the coast to see him. Another fic where Cas is human but in this one he took some time for himself and got some distance from the Winchesters! He gets to be competent and weird as a human and we love that for him. I must warn you all that this fic contains one use of the phrase “making love” which would normally put me right off but it’s still worth reading. The first of a three-part series.

home where you hold me by microcomets, 1.6k, gen Cas and Dean, in the moments between their battles, ache for quiet spaces. Technically this is a coda to 10x20 but you don’t need the episode for context. Short and very sweet.

Build a Home by domesticadventures, 20.1k, teen After they save the world, Dean expects Cas to come back to the bunker with them. He doesn’t. This one is so cute it’s like what if once they were done saving the world Sam and Dean actually invited other hunters to move into the bunker with them. Obviously Dean wants that to include Cas but doesn’t know how to use his words.

the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo, 22.4k, explicit This is what Cas gave up Heaven for: greasy diner food, shitty motel rooms with even shittier cable, long car rides spent in complete silence except for the same six tapes playing over and over again, and a burnt-out husk of a man who can barely hold a conversation anymore. Angst fic! They go on a road trip and Dean is severely fucked up post-Mark of Cain.

Unknown Quantities by xylodemon, 8.6k, explicit No one ever tells Dean anything. Another nice getting-together fic.

Creature of Habit by trinityofone, 5.2k, teen The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them. Or: How Cas developed some bad habits, and Dean coped surprisingly well. This one is ancient by destiel standards (written during season 5) but it manages to nail the married couple vibes they give off in later seasons. Cas is a bitch and Dean likes him so much. <3

The (Mostly Accidental) Courtship of Dean Winchester by Tuesday, 11.2k, mature Angelic marriage rites were never intended to go quite like this. Another old one that is a lot of fun! They get Accidental Angel Married and if you don’t enjoy dumb fanfiction tropes like that I don’t know what to say to you.

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit by pyrebi, 4k, teen In which angelic marriage bonds are apparently stupidly easy to trigger, Cas wages multidimensional war in Heaven, Dean can't catch a break like ever, Sam rather enjoys being a dick, love saves the day, and nobody consummates anything. The OTHER accidental angel marriage fic written in 2010. 

Crazy Diamonds by pantheon_of_discord, 24.8k, explicit A week ago, Dean was pulled out of Hell. Now, he’s apparently woken up in 2018, and the angel that a mere twenty-four hours beforehand had threatened to chuck him back into the pit is sleepily pouring himself coffee and wearing Dean’s second-favourite Zeppelin shirt. It all seems like a perfect happy ending, but with Hell’s scars still so fresh, Dean can’t imagine how he could have possibly gotten there. At the same time, the Dean who went to sleep in the bunker, right next to Cas, wakes up on Bobby’s couch in 2008. He’s instantly bombarded with questions by a Lilith-obsessed brother and a man who’s been dead for years, and must decide between keeping his finally-perfect life intact, and the lives he could save by re-writing history. Regardless of these choices, both Deans are trapped in the wrong decade, and their only way back lies with a Castiel still very much under Heaven’s thumb – one who might find the future Dean describes difficult to believe. Time travel is FUN. There’s an excellent part where (minor spoilers) future!Dean is like, “Guess what, asshole? You like me so much you marry me!!!!!!!!!!!” to 2008!Castiel that made me laugh out loud the first time I read it. Also just a good reminder of how most problems in life are temporary and if you could go back in time to talk to your younger self you’d be like, “Hey man. Chill out. You get through it.”

The Path of Fireflies by museaway, 63.7k, mature After his humanity is restored, Dean wakes up in bed with Castiel, a wedding ring, and no memory of the past twelve years. There’s a lot of amnesia fic and djinn fic out there were Dean wakes up ~suddenly together with Cas~ but I like this one in particular because he’s initially very confused and kind of a dick about it until he acknowledges that being with Cas makes him happy.

take the long way home by dothraki_shieldmaiden, 95k, explicit Three months ago, when Dean decided to retire, he thought his life was going to end up differently. He'd thought that he might get to have it all, Sam, Cas, Jack, and nice little place to live. Instead he gets Sam and Jack off on their Summer of Love Tour, radio silence from Cas, and a never-ending road trip consisting of himself. Still reeling from the loss of his grace, Castiel travels the country in search of hunts. Driven by a need to prove his usefulness, he pushes himself beyond all limits of endurance. Together, with the help of a few friends, a crumbling Victorian house, and a stray cat, Dean and Castiel patch themselves back together and create a home together. Do you wanna read almost one hundred thousand words of Dean and Cas having extremely intense feelings but refusing to voice them aloud? Haha of course you do that’s why you’re here. There’s also a lot about Cas adjusting to being human and being depressed about it which might resonate if you’ve ever felt weird about having a body. To be honest the author could stand to use a few more commas but there were also half a dozen moments that made me put my phone down and drag my hand slowly over my face and whisper “oh my god” to myself which is like, the ultimate measure of a good fanfiction so it gets to be on the list.

like moses and batman and james dean by saltyfeathers, 31.6k, explicit dean used to turn tricks. over a decade later, he met cas. Have you seen the fanon (apparently pioneered by Mr. Jackles “Original Deankin” Ackles himself) that Dean used to prostitute himself to feed himself and Sam when they were younger? Are you interested in exploring that concept in fanfiction? Well, this is the only fic you need. Mind the tags on this one! It’s not what I’d call happy but it’s good.

Some Assembly Required by narrow_staircases, 47k, mature It’s September of 2005, and Dean Winchester, in an attempt to outrun old mistakes and painful memories, finds himself in southern Kentucky on a wild goose chase. He’s completely certain this weird religious movement he’s ��investigating” is a hoax, despite the miraculous healings people report, and he’ll be back on the road in a day or two. Things are looking up when he meets Cas, an awkward (and gorgeous) graduate student who’s actually doing honest-to-god research into the local tent revival meetings. When that research takes a weird and personal turn, Dean’s left to face two very serious realities: one, this may be a real case after all, and two, he’s fallen way harder for Cas than he should ever have let himself. Stanford-era AU of Dean trying to avoid his father and getting in over his head on a case.

Alternate universe:

And This, Your Living Kiss by opal_bullets, 57k, mature Only a very few people in the world know that the celebrated and reclusive poet Jack Allen is just Kansas mechanic Dean Winchester, a high school dropout with a few bucks to his name. Not that it matters anymore; life has left him so wrung out he never wants to pick up another pen. Until, that is, a string of coincidences leads Dean to auditing a poetry course with one Dr. Castiel Novak. The  professor is wildly intelligent, devastatingly handsome...and just so happens to be academia's foremost expert on the poetry of Jack Allen. Mundane AUs in this fandom have to be really, really good to catch my attention and this one is! It’s exactly what it says in the summary and the characterization is spot-on. 

Out to Drift by deathbanjo, 20.9k, mature Dean drives a black car with a loud engine. He lies too easily. He keeps a gun in the back of his jeans, and Castiel isn’t sure, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Dean has killed someone before. Two people in fucked-up unstable situations meeting and forming a connection. Honestly guys I really just love deathbanjo.

[ms-starflower]

Spook-tober Day 1 — Decorating

@maribat-october-rarepairs

So, technically, it’s October 2nd for almost two hour here, but it’s probably still the 1rst somewhere, right? Well, I don’t care anyway.

It’s my first time writing for an event (Maribat or otherwise) and I wanted to write both prompts for Spook-tober - Maribat Month and the Maribat Rare Pairs Month, but didn’t have time to start writing before 11pm.

This one's for Spook-tober, though it could also qualify as rarepair since it's a Stephinette (is that the correct shop name???), because Steph is my Queen (Cass too, but I wanted Steph today). Though they don't interact (yet) but I think I’ll write a follow up for other days' prompt, maybe (day 9 and 21, I’m looking at you,).

Anyway, let’s start.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You sure you got the right address, miss?” The cab driver asked her with a skeptic expression. It would have been alright if the man hadn’t asked the same thing in at least twenty different ways during the ride.

“Yes, thank you Monsieur. I’m exactly where I wanted to be,” Marinette answered with a tight smile, like the twenty previous times. Giving him the money she owed him, she got out of the car to stand in front of the gigantic gate of Wayne’s Manor. The place was kind of intimidating.

Still hearing the car behind her when she reached the intercom, she turned toward it. The driver was shamelessly looking at her, probably waiting for her to get refused access.

“Are you waiting for something, sir?” She asked, tilting her head slightly.

“You’re gonna need a ride back, don’t ya? I’m already here, might as well,” he smiled at her with condescending amusement. Marinette was tempted to tell him that she would prefer to go back to the city on foot than to get into his car again. But her parents raised her better than that, so she only smiled politely.

“There is no need, sir, I really don’t know how long I’m going to stay here.”

“Yeah, right,” the man huffed, still staring at her.

Deciding to just ignore him, Marinette turned to push on the intercom’s only button. It took a minute before an elegant and accented voice responded.

“Hello, how may I help you?”

“Ah, hello sir. I’m Marinette, Jason asked me to come?”

“Indeed, Master Jason warned me to expect you.”

When the gate opened, Marinette made a point to turn around to smile and wave goodbye at the cab driver. She would cherish his dumbstruck expression for a long time.

Her victory was short lived, though, when she saw how long the march from the gate to the house was going to be. Jason better be on the brink of death. Or the world, she wasn’t picky.

When she finally got there, an old gentleman she thought might be Alfred was waiting for her.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, I’m Alfred, the family’s butler, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Alfred said with a kind smile and a nod.

“The pleasure is all mine, sir. And just Marinette is fine,” she told him kindly, walking into the house. “Jason is okay, right? He didn’t say why he wanted me here, and I have to admit that he got me worried.”

Jason had been determined to keep her as far away from his family as he could manage before, and the sudden change was really odd.

“I see,” Alfred said slowly, closing his eyes for a second. “Master Jason is alright, Miss Marinette, do not worry. He just… Well, why not let Master Jason explain the situation to you himself. If you would follow me.”

Marinette followed him for a couple minutes through a couple of corridors, before he opened the doors to… a battlefield.

She thought that, maybe, it was supposed to be a living room, but it was hard to say, under all those decorations. They were literally everywhere. Throwing on the couches, a couple of boxes were overturned in a corner, a couple of garlands of little cartoon ghosts hanging hazradly from the chandelier. It was a mess, but she could see that someone probably tried to… decorate? Maybe? It was a really bad job, though.

Jason and a man she assumed to be his brother were battling with a plastic pumpkin and a skeleton respectively, while two more men and a woman—probably also Jason’s siblings, she heard Bruce Wayne was kind of a serial adopter— were cheering on the sidelines and a brooding teenager was glaring at them. Everyone froze as soon as they realized that they weren’t alone anymore. Alfred only sighed, nodded at her before going back to where they came from.

“Hey! Pixie! Great, you’re here,” Jason exclaimed excitedly, letting go of the pumpkin he was shoving into his brother’s face and stauttered toward her.

“Jason, in the name of everything that’s holy, what the hell?” Marinette asked with a voice deceptively calm. She could see the woman and one of the men behind Jason wince at her tone. Good.

“Well, see, we wanna decorate the house for Halloween, now that it’s time—”

“Jason,” she interrupted incredulously. “We are in September!”

“Well, technically, it’s already October in Russia,” the man that had been fighting with Jason piped up.

“Yeah, what Timbers said,” Jason said with a serious nod while Marinette could only look at him in astonishment. “Anyway, Bruce said we can decorate all the room in the Manor like we wish if we can make this one presentable, without the help of Alfred. And I really want to make a cat theme for his bedroom, so I thought; hey, you know a designer…”

“I’m a fashion designer, Jason, not an interior designer!”

“Same difference, Pixie. You’re my only hope, all of them are hopeless in terms of good taste.”

Marinette pinched the bridge of her nose, ignoring the various protests from Jason’s sibling, before taking out her phone.

“So you proceeded to send me ‘Hey Pix,” she said, reading the message he sent her earlier with a bad imitation of his voice. “‘Need you at the manor asap, urgence lvl 3’ before ignoring me, making me think that the world was probably ending—”

“World ending is at least a lvl 5, Pix, come on,” Jason interrupted with an offended expression. She ignored him.

“—Forcing me to take a cab with a absolute jerk driver—”

“Why did you take a cab? You have a car!”

“Adrien took the car, he is visiting Chloé in New York. But that’s not the point. The point, Jason, is that all of that was because you needed me to help you decorate for a day that is literally in a month?”

“Hey, Halloween is a very important celebration,” Jason’s brother, the one that had been cheering the loudest, told her with a solemn expression.

“I’m French, I don’t care about Halloween,” she deadpanned.

“I’m sorry, what?” The one Jason had called Timbers, probably Tim Drake, looked pained at the very idea that someone could not be obsessed by Halloween.

“I mean, we used to make speciales and sales at the bakery, and I’ve been to a couple of costume parties, but we don’t really pay attention to Halloween until around the 25 of October.”

“That’s sacrilegious,” Jason said, and almost all the others agreed in a way or another.

“Maybe for you, Americans,” she told him with amusement. “But it doesn't change the fact that I’m not going to help you.”

What? Why?!” He exclaimed, his eyes widening.

“Because, one, I don’t have anything to gain from it,” she said, showing him one of her fingers before adding a second. “And two, do you know how long the walk between the cab and the door had been? And all of it just for decorations?”

“Aw, come on, Pix! Bruce is going to make Alfred judge, and I have projects for the cat theme!”

“There is nothing you can say that is going to make me change my—”

“Hey guys!” A cheerful voice suddenly interrupted her, the owner barging into the room like a whirlwind. The woman was slightly taller than her, with long blonde hair and blue eyes. She had a beautiful smile that brightened the room and Marinette could feel the hearts that were making their way in her eyes. The girl was cute. Uh oh. “You are decorating already?! Cool! Be right back, let me just grab my stuff!”

Then she was gone, and Marinette could only blink slowly, before turning back toward Jason.

“Alright, I’m in.”

“What? Why— Oh, no, no, no! You’re not going to crush on Steph—”

“Oh, her name is Steph? What a lovely name,” she mumbled, looking back in the direction she disappeared. “But if you don’t want my help, I can just ask for her number and let you fend for yourself with the decorations, you know.”

“Pixie!” Jason complained, making his sibling laugh or snicker at him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Fun fact: when Marinette says that France doesn't care about Halloween until around October 25th, I’m talking from personal experience. I don’t know if it’s the same in all of France, but I grew up in Paris’ region (It’s not Paris Paris, but it’s like, the places all around and we call it régions parisienne) and they don’t care about it. Where I live, the shops don’t start selling Halloween themed candy before, like a week (maybe two?? when they start early) before Halloween and the children rarely go trick or treating. (I lived in this house for ~five/six years, and I’ve never got a child knocking for candy on Halloween.)

Again, I’m not saying it was like that for everyone in France, maybe it was only my city, but I thought it funny to have this opposition between Marinette and the Batkids.

[joviewinchester]

“You’re absolutely positive you can’t come with me?” Y/N asked Matt.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I work that day. Maybe you can ask Ty or Stefan or something.”

“Yep. Been there done that. Stefan has plans to hang out with Caroline and Tyler has another wedding to go to by some stupid twisted chance of fate. I hate June.”

“You can…well, I’m not even going to suggest that torture.” Matt said cutting himself off.

“What? Anything is better than the torture of my family trying to set me up with someone.”

“You could ask Damon, but then again, he’s literally the worst. I guess pick your poison. Damon Salvatore or wedding set up. Personally I’d go with the latter.”

Y/N patted Matt on the shoulder and sighed. “You don’t know my family.” She exited The Grill and reluctantly drove to the Salvatore Boarding House.

She knocked, and Damon immediately opened the door. “You know, I was wondering when the tension would catch up to you.” He smirked.

“That is not why I’m here, Damon. I need a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

Y/N sighed and took a deep breath before starting her rant. “I need a date to my relatives wedding, and i’ve already asked literally everyone else i know, so i know you probably hate me, but please say yes. Otherwise they’ll try to set me up with someone, and they have awful taste.”

“And what do I get out of agreeing to this?”

“Um…I don’t know? The wedding is literally tomorrow and I have no other option so…I have no clue. Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want, huh? I’ll let you know when I figure out what that is. What time does this wedding start tomorrow?”

“Wedding’s from 5:00 to 6:00 and the reception’s from 6:30 to 10:00, unfortunately, I have to help with setup, so I have to be there three hours early, it was almost five luckily I got out of that, but I’m not going to make you deal with that, so I’ll leave from there early, come pick you up around 4:30. Dress nice…but not too nice. You’re already going to outshine the groom. My cousin does not know how to pick em.”

“That was a very trivial way of you saying you think I’m attractive. I’ll be ready, and don’t think I’ll forget that you owe me.”

“I wasn’t saying that! And I didn’t think you would forget. Not even for a second. And one more thing, please don’t eat any of my relatives.”

“Oh I’m not that bad. Why would I eat one of them when I could eat you?” He said eying her from head to toe.

“Stop making everything sexual! I’ll see you tomorrow!” She exclaimed as she brushed her hair to cover her red face.

He watched her as she walked back to her car, because let’s be honest with ourselves, he loved to see her walk away, then he shut the door and poured himself a glass of bourbon.

“Did Y/N just ask you to her cousin’s wedding?” Stefan asked walking downstairs.

“Why yes she did, brother.”

“Then you’re welcome. I don’t actually have plans with Caroline tomorrow. I told her that so she’d ask you. Don’t screw it up.”

“Really Stefan? I could’ve gotten the girl on my own. I’ve had plenty of practice.”

“See? That’s what I’m talking about. Y/N is different. She likes you, but she doesn’t like you just because she wants to sleep with you. She likes you because she wants to be in a relationship with you. If you don’t want that, then don’t lead her on. Promise me you won’t lead her on.”

“Do you really think that low of me, Stef?” Damon asked placing his palm over his chest.

“I won’t hurt her. Believe it or not, I actually like her, and tomorrow I’m going to be a perfect angel around her family, and she’ll have no choice but to invite me to another family event. I will be the best fake boyfriend. Mark my words.”

The next day was absolute torture for Y/N to say the least. “Y/N, Mark and Angela have to be seated near the back. They have not earned the status of front and center. Move the cards.” Her cousin, Allison, was normally really sweet, but she was an extreme bridezilla.

Y/N rolled her eyes but did as she was told. She expected for Allison to follow her every order when her wedding came around.

“So, Auntie Bethany has invited a really cool guy to set you up with. His name is Reggie and he’s so much nicer than the last one.” Allison said taking a minute to rest, which did not bother Y/N one bit.

“First of all, I’m eighteen which is freshly out of high school, I don’t know why she thinks it’s so urgent for me to settle down. Second of all, mom is going to be real disappointed because I actually have a boyfriend now and I invited him. I mentioned him a few weeks ago to you.”

“Now that you say that, I remember you mentioning it.” Yeah, she didn’t say a word, but Allison bought it and that’s all that mattered. She’d been pushing her to get a date since the wedding was announced.

“Speaking of which, it’s 4:00 and I told him I’d be there to pick him up at 4:30. You don’t mind me leaving a bit early do you?”

“No. Of course not. Chloe, Lilly, and Amy will help me finish my makeup then I should be all ready! Can’t wait to meet this mysterious boyfriend of yours.”

Y/N waved at the other bridesmaids, who all glared back at her for leaving them alone, and got in her car to get Damon. She knocked.

“Just a minute!” She heard him call. He opened the door a couple minutes later.

She smiled brightly. “You look great.” She said.

“Yeah, and you look…gorgeous. Your cousin was very generous with the bridesmaids dresses.” Damon commented.

https://shoplook.io/outfit-preview/2847398

“Come on. If we’re late I will not hear the end of it.”

Once they arrived, there were literally like five minutes till the start of the wedding. “Shit.” She muttered. “Just sit down and avoid eye contact at all costs. I really wish she hadn’t made me a bridesmaid.” Y/N muttered the last part and got to her place.

The ceremony lasted forever. The only thing that made it tolerable was watching Damon mess with the dude sitting next to him.

“Oh my god. That was literally the longest wedding ever. Why the hell did she force us to wear heels?”

“On the bright side, you were definitely the hottest bridesmaid up there.”

She elbowed his side playfully. “Oh shut up. Now come on, we need to get going. If we’re late to the reception, my mom will kill me. I haven’t even got to talk to her yet.” Y/N to practically dragged Damon to the car.

Of course the reception was about as cliche as the ceremony. It was held in a big old barn decorated with fairy lights.

“There’s my mom. Come on, act coupley or whatever, and be on your best behavior would you?”

“Oh, Y/N I’m hurt. When am I not?” He wrapped an arm around her waist.

Y/N rolled her eyes, smiling slightly at his antics.

“Hey, mom.”

Her mother looked kind of upset. “Come on, Y/N. You should’ve told me you were bringing a date. Reggie is going to be disappointed.” Her mother motioned backwards towards a guy who was already making out with another bridesmaid.

“Yeah…that him? He doesn’t seem too upset. I wouldn’t worry about it. Mom, this is Damon, my boyfriend.”

They shook hands. “Hi, Mrs. Y/L/N. It’s great to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much, and can I just say, you look lovely this evening. Speaking of which, where’s the lucky man?”

“Oh, he’s just over there talking to the groom. I’m glad that Y/N has finally gotten a boyfriend. I was starting to think she was going to be single forever.”

“Mom, cool it, will you? I’m eighteen years old. I just enrolled in college. I’m not getting married anytime soon. I know that’s how people in our family usually do it, but I don’t want to be married and have three kids running around by the time I’m twenty five. Okay?”

“You may feel that way now, dear, but wait until the baby fever catches up to you.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“I need a drink.” She mumbled with hostility.

“Y/N Y/M/N! You are not drinking any alcohol!” Her mother scolded after her.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she doesn’t get into too much trouble. You just have fun. Raising a girl with that attitude must have kept you away from fun quite a bit.” Bethany laughed.

“You have no idea.”

Damon followed Y/N to the open bar, and found her with a wine glass filled to the very top.

“Dude, first of all you aren’t even of age, and second of all, do you really want to get drunk at a relative’s wedding? Answer, no. No you don’t.”

“You don’t know what I want, Damon. Just go charm off the pants of another middle aged woman.”

“I’m trying to be a perfect fake boyfriend so your mom will get off your back. Did you already drink one of these?” He asked taking the glass from her hands and swirling it around.

“Yeah, duh. Did you meet my mom? She makes it her mission to control every aspect of her life. I love her, but some alchohol would really help me love her even more. Here gimme that.” She said grabbing the glass from his hand. She downed the whole thing in one go as if it was just a shot glass.

“Y/F/N! No! You are banned from this bar for the rest of the night. Come on.” He hoisted her over his shoulder.

“Damon...what are you doing? You’re supposed to be the least responsible one in this fake relationship.” She whined.

“No. I’m supposed to be like a real boyfriend which means I have to keep you out of trouble and do everything I can to make your parents like me which is what I’m doing.”

“Come on. Just let me walk. I won’t do anything stupid. I promise.”

“No.” Y/N huffed.

“Fine. If you want some douchebags looking up my dress then whatever.”

“Fine! Okay fine. I’ll put you down, but only because I’m your douchebag, and I don’t want anyone thinking otherwise.”

They ran back into Y/N’s parents.

“Did you get her away from the bar before she went psycho?” Mrs. Y/L/N asked.

“No. I took away the wine glass and she took it back and chugged it.” Damon said glaring at her.

“I’m fine. See?” She walked in a straight line.

“Oh come on Bethany. Lighten up. If you think she isn’t too young to get married then don’t you think in that mindset that she isn’t too young to drink alcohol.” Her father, Chris, said.

Y/N snapped and pointed at her dad. “Yeah. He’s totally right? Ready to admit that eighteen is too young for someone to get married?”

“Fine. It’s too young. Now no more drinks for the rest of the night, missy.”

She smiled triumphantly, but then she started sulking again. “Rest of the night? As in I have to stay here for the rest of the night and not drink anything?”

“Fine. You can leave like an hour early, but come talk to me before you leave. Have fun, but not too much fun.”

Y/N smirked. “I thought you wanted grandkids?” Her dad choked on his drink.

“Y/N!”

“Kidding. I’m obviously kidding…mostly. Bye!”

“You’re a lot of fun when you’re not avoiding being killed by some type of villain. I like you when you’re not in serious mode.”

“I’m so so sorry that I don’t have any witchy woo or an immortal life, but you do have to admit, I am amazing with a crossbow.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Sure you are. Even though you’ve almost hit me multiple times.”

“Exactly. I’m amazing with a crossbow. By the way, Allison wanted to meet you. We should get that over with.”

“Okay. That was uncalled for. You can’t just change the subject after admitting to trying to murder me multiple times.”

“You would have healed. What do you want me to do? Fall at your feet like Elena?” Y/N asked clearly passive aggressive.

“Woah. Woah. Woah. Stop walking for a second. Are you jealous of Elena?”

“What?! No. Why would I be? I don’t…I don’t even like you!”

“This wedding has proved that statement otherwise. Come on. Admit it. You. Are. Jealous. You want to get with all of this! You want to go for a ride on the Salvatore train!”

“No! No! No! I don’t! I don’t like you! I don’t want you! You... you infuriate me to no end!”

“But you like that don’t you? You like it when I get you all flustered. And don’t think I didn’t catch you blushing earlier when I called myself yours, given I said I was your douchebag, but you still blushed. Not to mention the fact that you put my hand back on your waist when we were walking back from the bar. You like me.”

“No I don’t! Everything that happened here was for show! It was for show.” She defended.

“The only reason you didn’t want to invite me to this wedding is because you knew that I would get your heart racing. Yeah. I can hear that.”

Y/N ran her hands over her face in frustration. “Oh. Don’t mess up your makeup. I can do that for you later.” Damon smirked. So what? His plan to be perfect didn’t last very long, but this plan seemed to be working just fine.

“Stop. Stop saying stuff like that.” She whisper shouted.

Damon leaned in. His mouth was only inches away from her ear. “Why? Does it…frustrate you?”

Y/N gave him a glare and crossed her arms, huffing. Damon smirked. She grabbed his wrist and took him outside.

Damon still had a smug look on his face. “You wanna know how you really make me feel? Yes, Damon! Yes you fucking frustrate me! You make me question my existence on a daily basis and sometimes I even wonder why me?! Why does he like me?! I’m no Elena. I’m not the perfect annoying ass girl next door, and I still don’t know the answer, but you know what?! Since you’re deciding to push me and push me until I explode, I love you, Damon Salvatore! I fucking love you!”

After seconds of tension filled silence and staring at each other, Damon smashed his lips against hers. She immediately kissed him back. She felt his hands gradually slide further down her back, until they were groping her ass. She pushed him away out of spite. “No.” She stated crossing her arms defiantly.

“Really? You’re going to be like this? Now?”

“Yes. Yes I am. Say it back and maybe I’ll be more lenient.” She sassed.

“I thought it was a given. I’ve literally been flirting with you and pining after you for months, Y/N. Of course I love you.”

“Was that so hard?” She joked. She leaned in to kiss him again, this time resting his hands on her butt. He squeezed her ass making her gasp, and slipped his tongue in her mouth.

“Woah. Woah. Woah. This isn’t your honeymoon Y/N.” Allison had walked out of her own reception looking for her.

“Oh, shit. Sorry Alli. So what’s up?” Y/N asked slightly out of breath.

“Well, I was promised that I could meet your mystery man, but you were nowhere to be found. I decided to look for you myself. Aunt Bethany was complaining about your grandkids joke earlier. I didn’t think you were serious.” She joked.

“So, this is Damon. Damon this is my cousin, Allison.”

“Nice to finally meet you. By the way Y/N, I connected the dots, and I realized after getting out of the point where I was completely freaking out, sorry about that by the way, that this is the same Damon that you literally used to call me just to complain about on the daily.”

“Hey, now. Let’s not bring that up, especially the things that I said…” Allison cut her off.

“She used to call me and talk about how annoying you were. I believe one time she called you a flaming douche nozzle? That sounds about right. Every single call always ended with her saying he is so infuriatingly attractive. It’s not even fair.” She knew she was embarrassing her cousin, and to be honest she loved it.

“Hey! He doesn’t need an ego boost! Trust me. I would know.”

“Okay. Okay. All jokes aside, if you are leaving, your mom and dad wanted to talk to you. Oh, and I won’t tell them about this little encounter. I know how they can be.” Allison winked and walked back in the building.

“Was it just me, or did we just get permission from the bride to leave? Come on we have got to hurry up and talk to my parents so we can get out of here.”

“What’s got you in such a rush to leave?” Damon winked.

“None of that. Stop. No. No. Bad.” She said pointing her finger at him.

“Relax. I won’t be myself, but only for you.” They walked back into the reception making a bee line to her parents.

“Hey mom, we’re about to head out.”

“Y/N, your lipstick is a little smudged.” Her mom said. Damon had to look away to stop himself from laughing.

“Huh. Is it? Must’ve been from where I got a drink. Anywho I love you guys and we will see you later.”

“Wait a second. Damon would you like to come over for dinner this Friday?”

“Of course. I’d love to Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Great. We cannot wait to see you again. Alright. I won’t keep you. Have a nice night.” They both waved goodbye to her parents and headed back to the Salvatore house. They walked in, and Damon poured a couple of glasses of bourbon.

“I have been accepted by your family. I’d say this calls for celebration.”

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to drink, dad.”

“Oh shut up. You can do whatever the hell you want when your parents aren’t there to witness it.” Y/N rolled her eyes, and flopped on the couch.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m tired. I’m going to sleep no matter what you say.”

“Come on then.”

“Where?”

“If you’re going to sleep then you’re coming with me to a comfy bed, not the couch.” Instead of waiting for her to reapond or get up, he slug her over his shoulder and took her upstairs.

“Goodnight, Damon.” She said sleepily.

“Goodnight, sleeping beauty.”

[helenazbmrskai]

Shush

Wow. I think this is the filthiest and the most messed up shit I’ve ever written in my whole life send me holly water pls (after you enjoyed reading this duh) I don’t know how this idea popped up in my mind one night but yeah don’t come at me.

💊Title ‹ Shush ›

💊Pairing ‹ Jimin x OC (f) ›

💊Genre ‹ adopted brother au, forbidden/unhealthy romance, smut, angst › 

💊Summary ‹ Forbidden fruit always taste the sweetest and when the fruit comes in the form of an innocent boy it’s even sweeter. ›

💊Warnings ‹ emotional manipulation, discussions about an incurable disease, unhealthy relationship dynamics, some fluff, multiple smut scenes filthy so be aware!, mention (and brief description) of sexual fantasies, sub! Jimin, soft domme! OC, teasing, mention of porn watching, brief imagined masturbation, corruption kink, first time, virgin! Jimin, blowjob, handjob, good boy Jiminie, jealous OC, oral (f), fingering, unprotected sex (don't do this be safe!), exhibitionism, marking/biting, almost getting caught, dirty talk, riding, pls keep in mind that this is only fiction! don’t do this folks ›

💊Word count ‹ 6k ›

💊Masterlist

Brushing the snowflakes off my coat’s shoulder, I take a look around the spacious living room soaking in the warmth and waiting for my fingers to defrost, hearing nothing besides the wind that blows outside. Checking the clock on the wall I recall that mom should be still at work at this time around, nothing’s new.

I silently make my way upstairs then halting once I’m in front of Jimin’s bedroom door that has a big J on it. Mom would be upset if she knew I didn’t check on him first thing when I got home so I knocked once then twice before I heard muffled noises from the other side and the shuffle of sheets followed by a loud bang of something hard suddenly hitting the ground. The sound itself quite concerningly rings in your ears.

”Are you alright?” I place my palm on the wooden surface concentrating on the noises that I faintly hear filtering through the door, biting down on my lip as I still didn’t get an answer from him.

”Ok. I’m coming in!” I tell him after a couple of seconds of silence, I gave him enough time to yell out that he’s fine. I’m ready to burst through the door when his voice squeaks out a tiny unconvincing ’I’m good.’ but my hand is already on the doorknob. His body lays slightly off the bed when I enter his room, the bed under him is unmade and his hair is dishevelled sticking to different angles from all the tossing and turning looking soft, wearing only a thin white shirt and pyjama pants to bed. Probably haven’t gotten up from it all day.

”You fell off the bed again?” I chuckle, sending him an amused look spiced with an arched eyebrow – it’s not the first time I see him in this position – shaking my head from side to side, though my eyes reveal that I’m not angry just amused. I grab both his knees and help him to lay flat against the pillows just like he was most likely laying before. His eyes glow like a lightstick with a beaming smile on his face.

”Y/N, you’re home early.” Arching up a brow himself he situates his body to rest his back against the headboard interrogating the cause of my early arrival with a slightly hoarse voice. Jimin looks into a specific direction frequently enough for me to spot his staring. I reply to his statement with a roll of my eyes brushing his hair gently to the side after I checked he indeed has no fever. Giving him the benefit of the doubt that I have no idea he’s trying to hide something I smile back.

I scan through his room hoping to find out by the order of things are placed what he was doing before I got home, it’s easy to spot the differences since I’m the one who usually cleans in here but besides his laptop that sits on the far end of the bed instead of the desk, nothing else seems out of place.

”Why? Were you doing something you shouldn’t be?” I grin, at first the question was intended to be innocent but watching how Jimin’s face contorts into a scandalized look I know he’s up to no good. His expression soon gets replaced with shyness unintentionally a boyish blush spreads across his rosy cheeks. It gets me even more curious.

He gained some weight over the past weeks so his features are almost healthily filled out, the new medication seems to work better than the doctors had anticipated and right now he has minimal symptoms.

Mom must be pleased by the outcome, he regained so much colour to his pale skin too. I witnessed all his ups and lows, I still remember the day I met him. He was in a bad shape, bedridden, so pale and skinny like a skeleton. He couldn’t even sit up on his bed to greet me and when he opened his eyes hearing my mom’s voice calling out to him I came face to face with his teary eyes, hands grabbing his chest to ease the pain that he felt crawling his way up from under his ribcage as a silent tear rolled down his cheeks. He got better when mom decided to take him out of the care system and switched doctors to look after his further treatment.

I regarded him as a responsibility at the beginning of our relationship made sure he took his medication between meals just like my mother instructed. Cleaned his room and made him food when my mother was busy with work. She’s a nurse at the local hospital, she left me alone with him a lot, her job consumes a lot of her time so I had to take care of him almost every day after school even had to take a few days off so I can stay at home when his condition started to get worse and he needed more supervision than usual.

Be that as it may, he had his better days that I started to like so much, spending time with him stopped being an obligation and instead, the time spent together started to be the highlights of my days.

Listening to his angelic laugh, having him listen to me talking about my day. No boy or man ever paid this much genuine attention to me, only him. He has his eyes only on me.

His fierce response makes me come to my senses, dragging me out of my own consuming thoughts.

”Of course not!” He defensively spats my hands away when I try to pinch his cheeks. He looks very pretty when the sun shines on his face. He looks like an angel.

”Oh really? I guess it’s fine then to show me your laptop’s search history. How about right now?” I move faster than he can snatch the device so I’m able to get it and open his tab before he even lets a leg down to plant his feet on the ground.

However, I was not expecting to find something this interesting in his log history. Looking between the screen and his red face I tilt my head to the side seemingly deep in my thoughts. It’s not that I never acknowledged the fact that he’s a man in his mid-twenties and because of his unfortunate susceptibility to having a systemic autoimmune disease he never had the chance to socialise like it’s a norm for most people. The only other’s he meet day by day are my mother and I since he can’t go out because of his photosensitivity.

Maybe I could blame the stars that never flickered out of his naive eyes for the past ten years I’ve known him for not thinking that Jimin could have dirty thoughts. Well, this porn page clearly states otherwise.

I know it’s inappropriate to think about Jimin, my adopted brother, in this way but I can’t find it in me to stop the spiralling thoughts.

Wondering if he masturbates while watching these videos when I’m in school. How he grabs his cock with shaky hands, cute fingers coated in his precum. Wondering if he uses the same hand to hold mine innocently after he did dirty things to himself. I subconsciously rub my thighs together to ease some of the tension that gathered between my thighs, even fantasising about him makes me feel hot.

I feel bad thinking about him inappropriately when he’s sick but I can’t seem to feel the shame when I look directly into his bright eyes now. The rational part of my brain screams that it’s inappropriate even though we are not blood-related.

Heck, not at all as mom adopted him when his last remaining family member, his father died ten years ago.

Jimin’s facial expression is like an open book I read him so well. Poor boy can’t even lie everything he thinks about is apparent on his pretty face.

Afraid that I’ll call him names he lowers his gaze, waiting for me to tell him that I’m disappointed and disgusted by him now that I discovered his dirty little secret that he rubs one out to porn but oh boy he has no idea. That I think about him in a way a sister shouldn’t. That there is nothing wrong with being curious. He has all the right to be. It’s easy to forget he’s older than me when I’m the more experienced one in everything.

”Hey it’s ok,” I get to my previous position, sitting down on the edge of his bed right next to his waistline. I curl a finger under his chin to level his face with mine, showing him a small smile indicating that everything’s gonna be alright.

”I watch porn sometimes too, there’s nothing to be ashamed of here Jiminie. It’s only natural to be curious about it. It’s human nature.” He avoids making eye contact but a tiny nod in my direction shows me that he’s listening.

”If you want I promise I’ll forget that this ever happened. Do you want that honey?” Nudging his pinky with mine I offer him the chance to change the topic to something light.

”You won’t tell mom about it, right?” Nodding my head in agreement I assure him that this piece of information can be our secret and no one has to know that this conversation ever happened. It appears to calm him down gradually as he finally reciprocates my gaze and sighs in relief. What you didn’t expect to hear after that, however, was an explanation of why he started watching porn.

”I want to know how it feels.” Jimin admits shyly, looking around to avoid my eyes as he tells me his hidden thoughts and I find him truly endearing. The previous tense atmosphere seems to completely fade away as Jimin relaxes his muscles against the bedsheet and opens up his heart.

”What? Sex?” I asked, watching his reactions closely as I experimentally place my palm above his right knee. An innocent touch.

Jimin shivers into the contact but other than that nothing remarkably changes in his behaviour or posture. He pays careful attention to not let his feelings show up on his otherwise expressive face. Cute. Sooner or later I’ll know how he really feels about my advances as he can’t keep pretending for long. He was never good at it.

”Yes. They seem to like it so much when I’m watching those videos.” Humming approvingly I rest a manicured nail at the edge of his waistband, this earns a sharp inhale of breath but he doesn’t try to remove my touch that indicates he’s not uncomfortable with me touching him. He doesn’t seem bothered, just a little sheepish.

”You know, a video is nothing compared to the real thing.” I let a single finger slide under his shirt drawing circles into his hipbone eyes watching the way his chest moves up and down a little faster at that.

”What a shame that you don’t know pretty girls to have sex with.” Deciding it’s time to remove my hand I’m letting the limb fall to my side lazily. Jimin’s lips immediately form a pout after I stop making advances on his body, showing me that he was expecting something more. All this time I thought he doesn’t see me like I see him but maybe I was wrong assuming that. Gaining confidence I decide it’s time to push his buttons a little more.

”I’m sure girls would form long lines to get into your pants baby. I wouldn’t be surprised since you are so pretty.” The praise makes his ears bright red, mother did a good job with giving him a boyish undercut a good fashion choice to leave the tips longer so I can easily comb my fingers through it, curling a few strays behind his ears.

”Y-Y/N.” A breathy moan leaves his lips as I kiss the underside of his jaw on impulse, finding stability by grabbing onto his thighs to lean closer and breathe in his clean scent. I push him against the headboard but he doesn’t mind it at all, too lost in the moment, feeling my lips on his throat to register any pain.

I pull away slightly to reconnect our eyes. Jimin licks his dry lips, not having anyone to talk to until I arrived home, he kept his mouth shut only feeling now how dry his throat is all of the sudden.

A ghost of a smile appears in the corner of my mouth as I realise Jimin is watching my lips not even trying to conceal his desire to have another taste of the forbidden fruit. This is so wrong but his lips are so light against mine, afraid that if I apply pressure somehow this moment will end and I don’t want this to ever end but as the saying goes, nothing lasts forever in life.

The magical moment ends when I hear my mother’s voice from downstairs. ”Y/N, Jimin I’m home!”

The cheerful voice of my mother abruptly interrupts our first shared kiss, not letting him chase the taste of my cherry lip balm I place a small peck on his nose instead yelling back that we’re upstairs and we’ll be down in a minute.

”No need to rush,” I peck his forehead this time, giving his face small kisses to lift his mood. It’s comical how disappointed he looks with his nose scrunched up adorably. He really has no shame as he sighs licking his lips to taste the remaining flavour of our kiss.

”We can continue this tomorrow, we have so much time, I promise...”

And continue we do. True to my word I comply with his request pulling the oversized t-shirt over my head to reveal him my black lacy bra and the curve of my waist. His eyes devour the new uncovered flesh hands lingering in the air itching to touch my bare skin but too shy to do it without my permission. He remains frozen in the act. Dreamy eyes watching my reaction to his shy movements silently asking for a sign that it is alright to touch. He’s so curious he wants to hear those noises the couples always make in his videos.

I nod putting him out of his misery cradling his hand in mine to place the warm palm onto my covered breast I guide his movements fondling the flesh, his touch feels good despite the barrier between his skin and mine.

Slipping his hand under the cup his finger comes into contact with my nipple I show him how to circle the bud until it gets erect a small sigh escaping my lips. I had the sudden urge to steal a kiss so I leaned in to grab the back of his neck and crush our lips together no tongue just lips touching sweetly.

I removed his touch to intertwine our fingers placing both of our hands to rest against the bed leaning into his mouth more.

”Is that all that you want me to do?” I murmur the words into his mouth, encouraging him to say more, to do more. Jimin swallows the saliva in his mouth gaze significantly cloudy as he stares into my eyes, shaking his head. He got so far the current thoughts in his head are clearly not about stopping anytime soon.

”What else do you want then?” I press him to answer my question, following the line of his upper lip with my thumb smearing the lip balm that got transferred from my lips to his while kissing, Jimin took a shaky breath before opening his mouth.

”Y-your tongue.” His tongue seemingly came out subconsciously to wet his lips I closed my eyes moaning at the sinful image. He really did his research, I’m about to give him everything he wants if he keeps up with these innocent yet so dirty looks.

”Where do you want it?” I grin moving closer so our thighs are firmly pressed together letting go of his hand to cup his face with both hands. Bending my head to peck the outline of his vein on his neck his pulse quickens under my touch. Pleased to have had such a great effect on him.

”In my mouth.” He squeaks out his response when I bite into his shoulder careful not to really pierce his skin but let him feel a moderate amount of pain mixed with his pleasure. I smooth my tongue where I bit making sure that I don’t leave any marks on his perfect skin. I don’t want our mother to ask questions later.

”Hm,” I hum into his neck satisfied by the answer before lining our faces again to fulfil his wish. ”Open.” As soon as I command his lips part obediently waiting for me to slip my tongue into his awaiting mouth.

”Jimin. Can I touch you?” I sigh into his mouth, he tastes so sweet I can’t seem to get my fill as I discover every corner of his hot cavern licking the roof teasing him before letting our wet muscles touch in a heated battle for dominance. Jimin gets greedy soon as he pushes my tongue back to do the exploration of his own, the kiss turns sloppy and too much saliva. Hands clutching onto the duvet under him grounding his body swimming in euphoria from falling too deep into the feeling.

”Yes, please.” Our eyes open slightly to watch each other my mouth founds the corner of his lips then the side of his cheek and jaw before diving back in parting his lips with my tongue to continue tasting him.

With a feather-light touch, I snake my hands upwards his thin frame and tiny waist feels so fragile under my fingers. I want to pepper his torso with my kisses pushing his body down using his shoulders to see his weight bounce on the bed. But I can’t get so ahead of myself, Jimin deserves to be worshipped like the angel he is.

”Lay down on your back Jiminie.” I smile seeing how obedient he is following my orders without any complaints or questions. He trusts me so much.

The thought alone that he is under me letting me have my ways with him makes my underwear sit uncomfortably against my heat when I move my legs to straddle his hips I feel how drenched I am for him. So pretty and so eager under me as his head rests on the pillows he truly looks like an innocent angel.

I motion for Jimin to raise his arms so I can get rid of his shirt and finally do what I intended to do and kiss his body starting from his collarbones all the way to the line where his pyjama pants hide the delicious lines of his hip bones.

I press kisses of praises into his shoulder blades moving down following the line of his sternum to give attentive licks and pecks all over his stomach feeling his muscles tensing under my lips whines and other sweet sounds slipping out of his parted lips as he breathes heavily through his nose with his eyes closed.

When I let a couple of fingers slide under his pants I realise the lack of material under my touch. He’s not wearing his boxers. The outline of his dick is evident when I look down he’s not that long but where he lacks his grith makes up for it as I can already imagine how good he would feel buried in me stretching my walls so good.

”Do you want me to touch your pretty cock darling?” I don’t forget to ask for permission even though by now I can clearly see how much he wants all this. The sight itself, how his member strains against the concealing fabric is an awfully clear giveaway of his growing desires. Jimin maintains our eye contact with hooded eyes nodding his head fervently before he can confirm his needs with words. His body burns but not with fever.

”I..yes, please. I w-want you to.” Jimin squirms waiting for me to do something that would relieve some of the tension in his joints. His cock feels heavy in my hand ready to sink into my cunt anytime, I can’t wait to put my mouth around it first but I have to be patient. I circle a digit around the tip testing how much precum he has for me.

Holding the digit up to my lips I taste the slightly salty substance humming approvingly. Tugging his pants down I get to work giving a kiss to the tip before coating his member with my saliva so I can lubricate his shaft enough so it won’t hurt him. His whole body shakes when my mouth makes contact with his cock his virgin body overwhelmed with the new sensation the little pleasure already too much for him to handle.

I make a mental note about grabbing some lube on my way home tomorrow so I can be prepared for situations like this. My lips suddenly widen into a Cheshire grin as I deliver the last lick all the way up to the hilt replacing my mouth with my hand.

”Jiminie look here for a little.” I coax him to open his eyes again with a sweet voice. ”Like that darling.” I praise him when his eyes met mine, choosing the moment his gaze connects with mine to use the same hand that pleasured him to glide under my jeans and underwear mixing my arousal with his precum I moan for the show as I rub my clit before collecting my essence so I can use it on his dick giving him the needed extra lubricant.

Jimin’s eyes don’t stay open for long when I finally touch him properly with the intent of making him cum. He can’t seem to keep his moans and throaty whines to himself as I give him a confident grip increasing the speed of my wrist when his whines became more high pitched his body gives away all the signs when he shakes under my touch that he’s close embarrassingly fast but I don’t mind, it’s his first time after all. We can always work on his stamina later.

”Relax baby and just enjoy this.” I encourage him to let go, massaging his thighs with my free hand to relax his strained muscles, slowing down my strokes but give special treatment to the tip collecting the forming precum. ”There’s no need for you to hold back.” I peck his hip picking up my pace again for a few moments longer before taking him into my mouth waiting for him to cum swirling my tongue over the tip repeatedly.

”Y-Y/N.” My name comes out in moans like a broken record when he finally lets all the tension seep away from his body letting the building pleasure force him into submission as he cums into my mouth his body goes limp when the pleasure fades away after I let him ride out his high with gentle licks.

I place the duvet over his sleepy form after I help him back into his clothes, tucking him in as I kiss his cheek to say ’sleep tight’ with the gesture.

I toss the food around on my plate in front of me tentatively listening to the conversation held between my parent and her guest but not engaging, sinking my fork into the broccoli angrily as I hear Natalie’s sugar-coated voice destined for only Jimin’s ears to catch.

She leeched herself onto him as soon as she stepped into this house annoying me with saying stuff like ’you have such a nice brother’ just to emphasise my relation to him. Even my mom takes her side saying that they look cute together.

I know she wants Jimin to socialise, that’s why this dinner is purposefully held in the first place but I can’t seem to show a different emotion than disgust when I look at Natalie trying to woo my Jimin. She will never know how he sounds when he’s about to blow his load or how he would taste against her tongue because only I can see that side of him no one else, and especially not her.

  His ears are red from her constant compliments and I swear I even saw her hand grip his shoulder when she laughed about something my mom said, he shies away from her because he never kept a conversation going on with another girl that wasn’t me or my mom before but that doesn’t mean jealousy doesn’t bubble up in my chest when he doesn’t deny her advances explicitly.

The dinner continues for an awfully long time before I could excuse myself from the table to hide away in my room and peacefully start yelling into my pillow to relieve my pent up frustration throughout this unpleasant meal.

Either Jimin genuinely didn’t have a clue what she was implying or he was aware but fine with it I don’t want to waste any more time and watch her all over him. I continued sulking in my room when I heard a knock on my door grunting a ’yes’ before I resembled smashing my keyboard I suddenly felt the urge to complete that assignment I procrastinated on so I can keep my mind focused on something else.

I avert my gaze from the screen to see who’s my intruder but I refocus on my computer when I see it’s Jimin. I’m not in the mood to talk to him right now since the picture of Natalie all over him is the first image to enter my mind.

”What? Dinner’s over so soon?” I’m careful to use an unaffected tone when I speak up, holding myself back from making eye contact even though I would love to see his face, we haven’t got time all day to talk or cuddle at all since I had to help my mother all evening to prepare for this dinner that was a waste of time anyway.

Jimin stays silent not bothering to answer my question but I still refuse to look at him as I pretend to be absorbed in my work. Even if it’s far from reality when the only thing consuming my thoughts right now is that I want him to tell me no one else is going to touch him only I can make him feel that good. That he wants. No, needs only me.

”A-are you angry? Please don’t be.” I still don’t turn around and looks like it makes him desperate for my attention he thugs at my blouse but I don’t react.

I want him to panic take over his body so he won’t do this to me again. I have to busy my fingers with typing so I don’t move to card my fingers through his locks like I long to do when he lays his head on my lap kneeling on the ground to do so. I don’t push his head away but doesn’t react either.

Half an hour passes in this manner, only my typing is heard in the otherwise silent room Jimin’s head still resting on my thighs hands circling my waist. I’m halfway done with my assignment when I feel Jimin’s nose nudge my centre. I showered after I excused myself from the dinner to blow off some steam and calm down grabbing only a pair of underwear and a shirt to cover my body with.

Jimin placed a kiss on my clothed clit making my body jerk in surprise forcing me with his bold actions to finally look at him our gaze locks as soon as I look down. Jimin folds the sides of my blouse so he can get access to the rest of my underwear following my panty line with his nose.

”Can I make it up to you?” Jimin looks up with innocent eyes that have my stomach twist in excitement but I try not to show him how much he can affect me as well. I’ll still make him pay for his actions.

”So you know you did something wrong.” I scoff but it ends up in a gasp when he licks the front of my underwear without a warning.

I grip his hair to keep him in place holding him close enough so his head still rests on my thighs but not that close to letting him lick my centre again. He’s playing dangerous games right now but I don’t know if I have it in me to be gentle with him.

”You should stop before I can’t guarantee that I won’t lose my control.” I warn him through my gritted teeth, closing my eyes for a moment to focus on my breathing, his eyes grew bigger for a moment before the previous shocked expression morphs into something else.

He can’t reach my cunt from where he’s restrained by my hands so he licks the inner side of my thigh his teeth nibbling on my sensitive skin.

  I loosen my grip on his hair smoothing the silky locks out of his eyes but he cleverly uses the gesture to scoot forward and have another taste placing a more confident lick stretching the rubberband side of my panty with his teeth sliding his hands over my stomach that was previously so obediently circling my waist.

”You don’t have to do it.” I remind him, feeling out of breath from his kitten licks over my clothed mound.

”I know.” Jimin replies with a sweet smile adorning his face before he pulls my underwear down my legs slowly, watching with interest as I part my legs so he can have a good look at my glistening core.

”The girls from the videos always like it when the boy does this.” Jimin murmurs under his breath absentmindedly before rubbing my clit with his fingertips his digits dipping lower to catch where most of my arousal gathers a single digit nudging my entrance. I part my legs more so he can get more comfortable between them I let him get familiar with my most intimate part before I pull his hand away with shaky fingers.

”Taste it.” I order for him to pop his fingers into his mouth licking my arousal clean from them and he doesn’t disappoint as he does.

Now that his fingers are coated with his saliva I guide it back to my core. ”Want your finger in me.” I throw my head back when he enters, my walls sucking his finger in his movements are inexperienced and uncoordinated but I let him experiment until he gets the hang of it, and oh when he does. His one finger turns into two soon as he finds the best way to pound into my wet cunt curling the digits just the right way to make me see stars. ”Doing so good Jiminie.” I tell him between heavy pants as the rhythmical hard thrusts of his fingers starts to become too much to handle I feel my insides tighten just like my walls tighten around his fingers getting closer and closer.

I open my eyes to watch him lean down his hair tickling my inner thighs as he nestles between my legs licking at my clit while the movement of his hand never falters, the new stimulus that his visual between my legs and his tongue on my nub adds to the feeling, making me come undone around his fingers.

”Stand up baby.” I motion for him to stand as well, his finger slips out of my hole, with a confused expression plastered on his face but doesn’t question my intentions as he obligates standing on his wobbly feet I let him sit down to where I was before straddling his hips.

”Are you going to let me ride your cock? Make you mine?” I ask him using my sweetest tones before slowly kissing his lips making sure to map out his mouth once more before turning my attention to kiss the expanse of his neck.

”Yes. Fuck yes.” The way how the curse word slipped through his mind without him noticing is endearing, he can always surprise me with something doesn’t matter how much time I dedicate to learning his body and soul, he’ll always have layers to discover. These good days sometimes even weeks when his illness hides its ugly face into the background are so precious that I wish we could always be like this.

I situate my body so I can pull his sweats down I pleasantly discover that he doesn’t wear his underwear when his dick slaps against his stomach. I reach for one of the drawers where I know I placed the lube.

I squeeze some into my hand before wrapping my fingers around his fully hardened shaft smearing the lube over him Jimin whines when he feels the cold liquid hit his hot member moaning once I roll my wrist the way he seems to like so much. Have enough of the foreplay I position him in front of my entrance making eye contact with him before taking him in letting him have the chance of backing out.

Jimin’s thighs shake as I take him in fully he tries muffling his moans by biting down on my shoulder so our guests don’t find out what we are doing in my room. With a smirk on my face, I roll my hips getting the best responses as Jimin tries to hold back his cries tightening his hold on my waist to slow my thrusts down but I don’t listen to him as I start to grind down on him letting his member pull out almost all the way before sinking down enjoying how good he fills me up.

I slow down as a knock is heard at my door Jimin’s eyes widen in fear but I don’t let him move an inch as I silently take my seat with his cock buried between my folds he holds back a moan when I clench around him.

”Mom?” I call out to her, my voice a bit shaky but I was able to mask it away enough that it doesn’t sound suspicious.

”Are you alright? Can I come in?” I hear her worried voice, she probably heard Jimin’s louder cries and she thinks something’s wrong. At this moment I’m really glad that my mom is very dense.

”I’m feeling unwell so I’m going to sleep immediately but you go and have fun with the guests don’t worry.” I offer her my reply as I circle my waist can’t keep still as Jimin’s dick feels heavenly it shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does seeing how pathetically he tries to prevent my mother from hearing his moans but his innocent facade can’t fool me as I feel him twitch inside me as I talk to my mother while he’s balls deep in my cunt. I wonder if he wants us to get caught or that he would like me to fuck him in front of Natalie on our dining table so she can see she never had a chance with him.

”Fine but come and get me if you need anything.” She leaves with these last words without further protests and I thank her while bouncing on Jimin’s lap silencing his cries by kissing him hard. 

”What mom would think if she saw you in this situation Jiminie? Fucking me while you pretend to be an angel in front of her. Kissing her cheek with the same lips that were buried between my legs moments prior.” I whisper next to the shell of his ear he lets out embarrassed whines but I can feel him enjoy how I fuck myself using him.

My thighs ache as I increase the pace feeling so close again I guide Jimin’s hand between our bodies to make him rub at my clit he does it messily but it’s enough stimulation as I cum again watching as Jimin’s eyes squeezed shut close to reach his own high.

[clefairymuke]

regrets | chapter fifteen

prev. chapter | next chapter

pairing: levi ackerman x reader

themes: enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut

tw: violence / explicit sexual content

word count: 1663

Monotonous.

That was the best word you could come up with to describe the past week. The days lulled on without change as you unfortunately pined after Levi, who still seemed to pay you no mind -- but today would be different. You had formed a hypothesis. It was lofty, optimistic guesswork with no actual backing, but it was a hypothesis nonetheless. If  you placed the right kind of pressure on Levi, then he would admit exactly what you wanted to hear. Your sadness about the situation, as melancholy typically does, had turned to spiteful anger; you needed to prove him wrong. Even if it amounted to nothing, even if you were left with sadness yet again.

"You want me to what?" Jean asked you in a whisper, face drawn up in disgust. You laughed at him before retraining your eyes on the back of Levi's head. His hair had been cut recently. It looked nice.

"Come on, Jean. It won't be that bad. It's just for a few days at most. I'll hate it just as much as you will. It's a game," you replied just as quietly. Despite his protests, you knew it wouldn't take too much convincing. He cared about you too much to tell you no. You gave him your most sincere puppy-dog eyes, watching the disgust on his face morph to a mix of disappointment and amusement. Score.

"I'll do it," he conceded, laying his forehead in his palm. You knew it wouldn't take much effort. Your plan, albeit a little childish, was what you had deemed a sure-fire experiment to test your hypothesis. Hange would be proud.

Levi, as careless as he may seem, irrefutably had anger as his foremost emotion. He was quick to it, and he wore it well. With such constant anger came many things: a gentle side well-contrasted by the rough exterior that ruled others' perception -- proven true; a likely mix of mood swings and impulsivity -- also relatively evident; and, most importantly, a tendency toward jealousy -- completely unproven but heavily suspected. You relied on that suspicion to make sense of the mixed signals he had given you.

You'd been considering it for days; after a while, you grew weary of being ignored. It beat down on you like a rain shower, leaving you to helplessly question the meanings of fleeting moments within the confines of the infirmary. Being unsure was decidedly the worst part. An explicit yes-or-no answer was annoyingly required to calm your racing mind -- accepting his words at face value was impossible.

You followed the outline of his jaw with your eyes as he spoke to Hange, who was sitting at his side. He always looked so well put together. You fantasized about his hair in disarray and his clothes hanging loose -- how he looked on the morning after the night you spent together. You had long grown past embarrassment; every self-pitying thought soon became validating as the nights in the infirmary consolidated into your definition of Levi. You were sure, entirely, that this newfound attitude towards you was all for show. Otherwise, how could someone so callous become so gentle?

His collected gaze was aimed anywhere that wasn't at you. Jean's stories of certain stolen glances when you weren't looking were enough to assure you that he wasn't as unbothered as he seemed. Sometimes you wished you could catch his eye just to send him a soft smile -- to remind him that the two of you weren't just unreasonably disliked acquaintances. You were almost tired of being mad at him; unfortunately for him, however, you were quick to anger, too.

When you were dismissed to training, you weren't slow to get up. You tossed your tray atop the stack of others and made your way out the door, other scouts surrounding you to form a crowd. Jean put his arm around you when you found yourself outside the door; but, instead of swinging it casually around your shoulders, he slid it snugly around your waist. You watched as he shook his head, eyes rolling so hard you were sure they'd come out of their sockets.

When you looked back, you swore for a moment that you met a pair of narrowed grey eyes.

---

The training exercise was your least favorite of them all: the insufferable wooden-titan practice you'd done a month or so before. You fell in line with the rest of your comrades, your gaze traveling to Levi's stance atop a tree branch. He was leading this exercise, and although it was better for your experiment, it was hard to ignore how hard he had been on you. Slack didn't seem to be in his vocabulary. You wanted to do well.

You all lied in wait for his go-ahead, your hands positioned over the triggers on your gear. It would be your first time using ODM again; luckily, legs weren't really necessary. You looked forward at the back of Bertholdt's head, knowing Jean stood a few feet behind you. Last time you finished -- third? Maybe second? You were confident you could do it again.

You saw Levi travel towards the middle of the group of trees for a better view. "Alright," he called, several yards away. "Go."

It only took a few seconds to realize you were rusty when you fell to the middle of the group. Jean had already passed you, along with Connie and Sasha. Nearly a month out of training had done more damage than you thought. You fought to stay ahead of the curve, your eyes failing you to glance at Levi's disappointed face. You made eye contact for a split second, your chest swelling against your will. A lift of his eyebrow forced your line of sight forward as you narrowly missed a tree branch. He scoffed, loud enough for you to hear him. How embarrassing.

Whether by luck or underestimation, you were surprised that several scouts remained in the exercise when you landed. Levi had moved towards the edge of the trees now, so you could still see him from your place in the grass. You wondered if he knew, and if he had glanced your way, too. Your plan relied on the fact that he had and would again.

You waltzed to where Jean stood, away from the others and sipping from his canteen. You slid your hand into his, fingers interlocking as he gagged playfully. "Your hands are sweaty," he said, discomfort clear in his tone.

You laughed, squeezing his hand. "Yours just feel greasy. Have you washed them recently?" The two of you continued joking back and forth as your eyes darted over your shoulder at Levi. You told yourself that acting as if you didn't even notice him would be the best way to go; it was difficult, though. You wanted to gauge every reaction as clearly as you could -- that's how experiments work, right?

You caught him staring for the very first time. When you met his eyes, his gaze did not falter. He simply lowered one eyebrow inconspicuously. You looked away as quickly as you could to hide the triumphant grin spreading across your face; he had seen, and he didn't look happy. The experiment, though, was not yet complete. You wanted more.

As the last few scouts landed, you and Jean took a seat, hands still interlocked in the clammiest, most uncomfortable form of physical affection you had experienced to date. To make matters worse, you decided to lay your head snugly in the slope from his neck to his shoulder. Of course, you and Jean were not strangers to physical affection, as most close friends weren't. Nonetheless, the connotation behind the prolonged hand-holding and casually romantic cuddling was uncomfortable at best. You were lucky he couldn't tell you no. Another strike of luck was that everyone was used to seeing the two of you close and comfortable, and it would be difficult to anyone not intently watching to notice a difference; were there any downsides to having a male best friend?

"Is he looking?" you whispered nudging Jean with your shoulder.

"I don't know," he whispered back, "I'm facing the same way as you."

You snorted. "No shit. Just look around. Don't make it obvious."

You felt his head turning, looking both ways out at the scouts that surrounded you. "Okay, yeah. He's looking. He didn't even look away when he saw me. He looks pissed."

You smiled. Your hypothesis was not far from being proven true; you just needed another push. "You're not going to want to do this," you told Jean, trying to hide the mischievous grin overtaking your face.

"I'm not doing it. No way."

"Jean, please!"

"Nope. Not happening."

"It'll only last a second," you said in the most convincing tone you could muster.

"This is a stupid plan," he answered, a sigh of concession building in his lungs. You had won, yet again.

"Just kiss me. Fuck, it's only once."

And so he did. He tasted like the disgusting soup you had eaten for lunch. It lasted only a couple of seconds, but you were subject to the time-slowing force that only came from ecstasy and torture. This time, it was the torture kind. When he pulled away, you forced a grin for show. Through your teeth, you said, "I think that was the worst thing that's ever happened to me. Ever."

He laughed, squeezing your hand. "It couldn't have been worse than what just happened to me. Remind me to wash out my mouth with soap later." You looked over your shoulder to see Levi still staring, his jaw set in anger. What could be more satisfying?

When you were all dismissed from the exercise, you were sure to walk slowly as you and Jean swung your conjoined hands back and forth. Surely real couples don't hold hands this long, you thought; this much sweat can't be comfortable. Before you saw him, you heard Levi's voice at your side.

"Get cleaned up and get to my office. I need a word with you."

Had it really been this easy the whole time?

[theweasleysredhair]

Flustered [G.W.]

Character: George Weasley

Word Count: 3077

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: “You make my heart skip a beat.” In which Georgie is a chaotic, flustered mess in love with a Hufflepuff chaser.

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: For the lovely Erica - I really hope you enjoy it angel! I may have been working on this all week and rewritten it like three times so I’m hoping I got George being all flustered yet cheeky right 😂

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

“Wow, you really like her don’t you,” Fred commented as he watched his twin staring hopelessly at the h/c girl a few metres to his left.

“What?” George snapped out of his daydream just as he walked straight into a pillar, knocking him back on his feet and he groaned in pain as Fred and Lee laughed.

“Might wanna watch where you’re walking instead of staring at Y/n, mate,” Lee joked, watching as George rubbed gingerly at his nose. “Love really is blind, eh George?” Fred sniggered.

George groaned, half at his nose hurting and half at his friends’ teasing. It’s not his fault he was so distracted - how could he be expected to focus on where he was walking when you were a few metres away from him?

“Oh shut up, the pair of you. You’re acting like you’ve never fancied a girl before. I distinctly remember you falling on your face, Fred, when you first started liking Angelina,” George scowled, nudging his brother.

“That’s because you tripped me up!” Fred said indignantly. George feigned innocence, “I would never do such a thing.”

And then suddenly his focus had fallen back on you, his previous conversation fading into the background, barely paying attention to Lee’s laughter at his expense.

“She’s the best chaser in Hogwarts I reckon,” he said dreamily, watching as your head fell back as you laughed with your teammates.

To be fair, he wasn’t wrong. You’d made a name for yourself since you’d joined the team a couple years back, and were the best player on the Hufflepuff team. Luckily for George, he knew Harry was a better seeker than Cedric, but he knew you were a force to be reckoned with - you’d scored the most points since the year had started and by a longshot at that.

“You know, we have three perfectly good chasers on our own team you should be complimenting,” Lee pointed out as he opened the doors to exit the castle.

The sun was out, warming up what would have otherwise been a mild morning, dew still covering the grass as hoards of Hogwarts students were milling around, waiting for the match to begin.

The boys began heading towards the quidditch pitch, knowing Oliver Wood would already be there to prep the team on which strategies they’d be using today.

George sighed, “Yeah but... they don’t look like Y/n do they. Or act like her. Or sound like her.”

“I swear to Merlin, if you lose us this match because you can’t stop staring at the girl then I’ll personally kill you myself,” Lee threatened playfully.

“No worries about that, I’ve got a plan!” George announced proudly, straightening his back and pushing his chest out proudly.

“You made a plan? Without me?” Fred came to a sudden halt, making Lee bump into his back as the older twin dramatically clutched his chest as if he was heartbroken.

“Yep. Made it just this minute... I’m gonna flirt with her whilst we’re playing, to distract her,” the younger twin said determinedly.

There was a moment of silence before Fred and Lee burst out laughing laughing, continuing on their journey to the pitch. “You can’t flirt. You can barely speak to her,” Lee chortled, grabbing onto George’s shoulder for support.

“‘S not true. I had a conversation with her the other day!”

“She asked you if she could borrow a quill and you stared at her with heart eyes for a solid couple of minutes before I handed one to her instead. Wouldn’t call that a conversation, Georgie,” Fred said pointedly.

“I wasn’t referring to that - thanks for reminding me of that by the way,” George fake-glared at his twin, “I actually saw her in the library.”

“Oh yeah? What were you doing in the library?” Lee asked in disbelief, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I was studying,” George said simply.

At the sight of Fred and Lee raising their eyebrows, George sighed, “Okay fine, I was hiding from Filch. And I may have seen her walk in there before me. The point is, we had an amazing conversation and she called me cute.”

“Everyone stand back, Georgie’s been called cute and had some really hot, passionate eye contact!” Fred called out sarcastically.

George looked unimpressed, “Oh ha-ha, very funny.”

As they arrived at the stands, the twins bid goodbye to Lee who headed up to commentator’s box.

Around 15 minutes later, the twins were in their quidditch uniform and had just finished with the match briefing. They walked out, laughing and joking when Fred nudged George and nodded over to where you were stood in the middle of the pitch with your team, in your own quidditch uniform, holding onto your broom.

George picked up his pace, taking his place in front of you. He smirked at you, “Heard you’ve been practicing night and day for this, shame we’re going to beat you anyway.”

You looked up and were pleasantly surprised to see the younger twin standing across from you, in his starting position for the match. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t happy he’d chosen to come and see you instead of speaking to his team.

You scoffed and shot him a grin, “I’m gonna fly circles around you in this match.”

“Bring it on, love! Gryffindor are the best team going,” he bragged, puffing out his chest playfully and making you laugh (something he was extremely happy to have done - he’d never get sick of hearing the melodic sound).

“Oh yeah? We’ll see about that,” you said determinedly, climbing onto your broom.

The match began and George made it his mission to compliment you every time he flew past you, to distract you from scoring. Usually, nothing could stop you from getting the quaffle into the hoops but there was something about the ginger boy that had you flustered, heart racing every time he’d throw a smirk your way.

“Did I ever tell you how beautiful you look right now?” He’d said to you as he flew past you, distracting you just long enough for Alicia Spinnet to score a goal and making you grit your teeth in annoyance.

When you had stolen the quaffle from Katie Bell and were just about to score, he came up beside you saying, “Always knew you were an amazing chaser, babe.” And that was enough for you to miss the hoop by barely a fraction of a centimetre.

The last straw was when you’d just managed to throw the quaffle past Oliver Wood, after having to flip over on your broom to avoid Angelina Johnson flying past you in an attempt to steal it from you, earning another 10 points for Hufflepuff when the younger twin flew past you again, “Well that was hot as hell, love.”

And suddenly you forgot where you were for a moment, staring after him as he flew off, mouth open in a slack ‘o’.

Your team captain flew past you, yelling, “Flirt in your own time, L/n!”, making you realise that you were, in fact, in the middle of a quidditch match. And with that, you decided to give George a taste of his own medicine.

“‘M really glad you keep passing us the quaffle, love, making it so much easier for us to win,” George teased you. “Anything for the most handsome beater around,” you retaliated, batting your eyelashes at him. Sure, you could’ve come up with something better but for being in the middle of a game and thinking on the spot, you didn’t think it was too bad.

You were right as well, because as soon as you said it, George stopped mid-air, frozen in place. Because... did you just call him handsome?

His heart was pounding as he stared after you, your h/c hair flowing in the wind and making his breath catch in his throat.

And then suddenly out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a bludger coming straight for you. With a glance over at Fred, who was busy trying to ensure Angelina - who had the quaffle - could score, he realised that the other bludger was heading towards Katie Bell.

George raced into action, beginning to head over to help Katie, who moved to dodge said bludger, before suddenly swerving on his broom over towards you, smacking the iron ball away from you merely seconds before it hit you.

He turned to you, all previous playfulness gone and replaced with concern, “Are you okay?”

You barely had enough time to nod, still in shock from the near-hit, before George was called off again by Fred.

“Maybe focus on your own teammates, eh Weasley?” Oliver shouted angrily at George, who looked around and realised Katie Bell had been hit with the other bludger.

“Sorry Ollie mate, had to protect what’s mine,” he called back to his captain.

“And because of that my shoulder got hit!” Katie yelled out.

“Sorry, Bell,” George shrugged, before heading off to hit a bludger away from Alicia. Of course, he did feel bad that Katie got hurt - quite guilty, in fact - but... to him, it would’ve been worse if you’d have been hit - or worse again, had fallen. He didn’t think he could handle that.

“You’re lucky we won,” Fred said to George after Harry had caught the snitch, “Otherwise I reckon Oliver would try and drown you in the showers for saving Y/n instead of Katie.”

“Y/n is my priority to be honest,” George replied as they landed their brooms on the grass, “Plus, I knew Katie saw the bludger coming and had at least a chance to swerve. Y/n had no idea. I couldn’t let her get hurt, Freddie... I couldn’t.”

“Guess we’ll have to work on distractions in the next practice,” Oliver said pointedly on the way past the twins, although the didn’t seem too upset - probably considering Gryffindor had won - followed by Katie who was holding her shoulder.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” George said sheepishly. If he was honest though, it wasn’t really a hard decision for him to choose between saving you and saving Katie.

Katie didn’t make his heart race like you did.

The rest of the team headed after the cheering crowds, whooping and hollering at Harry.

Fred followed on, screaming excitedly into the crowd. George went to join when he felt someone tap his shoulder.

He turned around and was met with the sight of your nervous smile, rocking back on your heels as you looked up at him, “Hey... I um, I just wanted to thank you. You know, for hitting that bludger away from me. You didn’t have to do that and I never got the chance to thank you in the game.”

“Don’t you worry love, it was nothing. Gotta protect your pretty face, don’t I?” He said cheekily, making a blush rise on your cheeks.

“Well, it wasn’t nothing, it saved me a great deal of pain and possibly a nasty fall so... I guess I owe you,” You grinned, before leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. You thanked him again and then shyly waved him goodbye to join your teammates.

George felt like a schoolgirl with a crush, his mind racing and heart beating fast as he reached up to the place where you’d kissed him. You’d kissed him.

“You look happy with yourself,” Fred commented with a grin from a few metres away, having walked back after realising his twin wasn’t following.

“She kissed me,” George announced in amazement and pure awe. “Yeah, on the cheek,” Fred grinned, crossing his arms over his chest.

“That still counts!”

“No Georgie it really doesn’t, but I’m glad you think so,” the older twin replied in an amused tone.

-

“D’ya reckon she fancies me?” George asked suddenly as the twins headed down to the Great Hall for lunch. For a moment, Fred was confused, looking around for some kind of context, but then realised his twin was talking about you.

“Well I mean you are the less attractive twin and all but you do have some good qualities I suppose,” Fred replied, looking like he was in thought.

“Oh yeah, like what?” George asked seriously, hoping for some actual advice.

“Well for starters you have an amazing twin brother.”

George stopped, staring at Fred’s grin and sighing before elbowing him - slightly harder than he intended to so Fred nearly fell into the wall.

“Now now Georgie, I’m simply trying to tell you that I am offering you my services at helping you win her over,” Fred said with a laugh, nudging his twin right back.

“At this point I’m open to anything.”

“Well, this may seem a bit out there, over the top, dramatic - but how about... you just tell her directly how you feel. You have no problem being all sappy about her to me. I’m sick of it really,” Fred sighed with a shake of his head.

“I can’t do that.”

“You’re George Weasley of course you can mate.”

“D’ya reckon?” George glanced over to the group of students heading down the same corridor, most likely to head to get some lunch too.

“Yeah I do. Or, even better, just walk over and snog her the next time you see her.”

As much as George liked that idea - and was imagining it right that moment - he decided against it.

“What if there’s someone else?” Fred decided mess with George. The younger twin’s head whipped round to look at Fred, “What do you mean?”

“Oh wow your face, you’re really gone on her... poor Y/n,” Fred laughed, clapping a hand on George’s shoulder, “All I’m saying is, my dear sweet twin, what if there’s someone else?”

George swallowed. He hadn’t thought of that. What if there was someone else? He hadn’t seen you with anyone and knew Fred was winding him up but what if?

“Then I’ll just beat away the other competition,” George said with a cheeky grin, hiding his worry but his mind was reeling at the possibility.

Fred groaned at the pun, shaking his head. He opened his mouth to reply to his twin when they heard soft laugher from behind them, “Oh don’t you worry, no one could ever beat you, George.”

The twins turned around in shock, George’s heart pounding as his eyes rested on your figure.

“Oh dear Godric, marry her,” Fred groaned as he walked away towards the Great Hall, mumbling something about bad puns.

George felt his cheeks redden, reaching up with one hand to scratch the back of his neck, “You um.. you heard that?” You bit your lip before grinning, “I did.”

“Is it too late to pretend I’m Fred?” George asked with a nervous smile. He could feel the tips of his ears burning and he had no doubt they were most likely blending in with his hair at that point.

You laughed, “Well you could but I’m quite fond of you as yourself if I’m honest.”

“You are?” George’s mind raced, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. He then mentally cursed himself for acting so stutter-y and nervous as he ran a hand through his messy hair, “I mean, that’s good because I’m quite fond of you too.”

“Of course. There’s not many guys who would go out of their way to protect me from bludgers... especially when they’re not on my team or as handsome as you are,” you said with a small shrug. You giggled a little noticing a strand of hair sticking up from George messing with it, so you reached up and flattened it out, making him swallow from how close your lips were to his.

He could easily close the couple of inches between you if he wanted. Well, he did want to - badly - but just as he built the courage, you’d stepped back a little further away.

“Some things are more important than who’s on what team... don’t you worry love, I’d protect you from bludgers all day long if you asked me to,” he replied with a cheeky smile.

“Is that an offer you make to all the girls?” You asked with a laugh. “Nah, just the ones I fancy,” George admitted.

“You’re sweet, you know that?”

“Now that you mention it...,” he pretended to think, before shooting you a grin, “Yeah I know.”

You laughed and his gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips and back again as his tongue darted out to swipe across his own bottom lip. You were still stood close, he could - what was it Fred said? He could walk over and snog you.

Your laughter had dropped to a comfortable silence before George broke it, stepping forward so the distance between you became nearly non-existent, “You know, I was thinking, maybe we can- or I could- can I-”

“Kiss me, Georgie” you interrupted his rambling.

“Oh bloody hell- yeah absolutely,” he breathed as he grabbed your hips, pulling you to him and crashing his lips to yours. Your hands made their way around his neck as he slowly turned you to press you against the nearest wall, one of his hands on your waist as the other cupped your jaw to better angle himself.

He sighed happily as you tugged at strands of his hair, the hand that was on your waist moving slightly so it gripped the back of your hip, pulling you closer to him.

You pulled away a little to take a breath and before you knew it he was kissing you again, showing you how long he’d waited for this moment.

“Hey Y/n?” He said in a low tone as you pulled away, pressing another kiss to your swollen lips before resting his forehead against yours. “Yes Georgie?”

“You make my heart skip a beat,” he said with a proud grin.

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, “It took you all that time to come up with that?”

“In my defence, I had you - looking like you do - in front of me, being all distracting. And then you let me kiss you. You try coming up with something better,” George scoffed playfully, giving your waist a gentle squeeze.

“Oh I could easily beat you at this game,” you replied immediately, grinning up at him. His mouth dropped open a little and his eyes lit up, staring at you as if you’d hung the moon and stars in the sky,

“Merlin, Fred was right: Marry me?”