#forgive me for the messiness of this one i haven’t had the motivation to do anything rendered or clean recently

[tobisaw]

walks into the room covered in blood Hey

[rulesheart]

Slow down

Xavier Thorpe x fem!reader

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YOU MAY REPOST BUT PLEASE DO NOT STEAL. THIS WORK IS MINE.

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A;N: Hi, yes I’m back for like the hundredth time. I haven’t even finished the show, yet I’ve been eager to write for this man. I also haven’t written shit since the Conrad smut so be proud of me. And, I kinda forgot to check my inbox for requests…My bad, forgive me and give more so I can use them. Anyways, I wrote this because I haven’t seen many Xavier smuts and it gave me motivation. Also, I wrote like a bunch in this then none of it saved. So, that’s kind of what delayed the release. I was pissed. But Please enjoy it bc it was overall put together so fast. <3

Summary: Xavier doesn’t seem to like it when Tyler is around. You find it ridiculous and decide to reassure him in a more pleasure-able way.

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Likes, reposts and comments are very welcome!

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Warnings ; cussing, handjob, p in v / riding , begging and more or wtv.

……………

For the past few weeks you had been hooking up with some boy. And by some boy I mean, Xavier Thorpe.. 6 foot 2 in height, messy brown hair that hung just at his shoulders. Larger blue eyes, slender body and contagious smile.

You didn’t think it’d happen. But you were alone at your new school. He happened to be there and it went on from there. He even took advantage of the time he had with you ; sneakily leading you into a janitors closet after class to leave you both a moaning mess.

Somehow managing to sneak into a shower with you. Almost got caught in a darkened classroom once too. Yes, It was quite risky. But he liked the rush as well as you did.

And when you two first started hooking up, he introduced you to everyone in the friend group. Including Tyler, the one he hadn’t liked so much. They had a rough past and Xavier couldn’t stand to forgive him for it. He played as nice as he could. Til he found Tyler sneaking into any scene that you were in.

And god, who knew how jealous a Thorpe could get? He’d take any chance to correct Tyler on where his place was. Meaning a few steps from you and no skin to skin contact. But Galpin’s secretly loved to play games. He’d brush his hand against yours sometimes. Grab a hold of you alone as if he had something private to tell you. And it was all in front of him.

And that’s precisely why Xavier hates him. Not only is he unable to be a decent human being. He’s also incapable of standing his own ground with someone he’s possessive over.

You.

—-

“You know I didn’t like seeing you two together.” He speaks up after laying under you.

You sigh while you adjust yourself, knees around his thighs as he looks into your eyes. His scent of cinnamon and apples linger through your nostrils. His hair also laid back onto the black fluffy pillow beneath him.

You clear your throat. “You’re right, I do know. But…I can’t reject his attention. I’m not that kind of person.” Your arms are crossed, pushing up against your bra.

He huffs in response. “You can be every kind of person. I’ve seen and been around it myself.” Xavier reaches his hand over and brushes it against the side of your bare arm. He feels the soft and warm surface of your skin.

“Can’t tell if that was supposed to be an insult or compliment Mr. Thorpe.”

“Maybe both.” His eyebrows raise for a quick moment and you can immediately sense he’s joking.

You shake your head in annoyance. And he follows the sight of your hands as they slide his sweatpants to the end of his thighs. A small bit of excitement surges through him. A woman that takes the lead is quite attractive to Xavier.

You mess with his waistband, trailing the fingertips against the band border. As you do so, he glides his hands to your ass, giving it a tight and possibly firm squeeze.

“He was staring at your ass.” Xavier interrupts again. Clearly his jealousy is still present. Why not spark a little something?

A quiet chuckle leaves your mouth. Your tongue tracing over your lower lip. “What can I say? It’s nice. At least he didn’t act on his thoughts of it.”

A large amount of air is inhaled from his nose. He’s biting on the inside of his cheek.

“Fuck you. You know how I feel about that shit, okay?” He lifts his head up while his brows furrow.

This time you return silence. You’re over it. A little something should shut him up. Your fingers pull the waistband down, revealing his length.

Suddenly, you wrap your hand around him, giving a few slow strokes. Xavier’s expression from before seems to have dropped; His head also along with it, hand gripped around your arm now.

“That’s…” His words trail off to a small hum. “Good.”

A small smile appears on your face. His soft words bring a small sensation to your stomach. Your thumb and index finger form a O around his slightly leaking tip. Then creating fast circular motions around it. He lets out a struggled breath, tightly shutting his eyes closed.

“Shit. Slow down—“ He curses in small pleasure. His shoulders tense up then his grip around you growing tighter. Immediately, you let go of him and slowly lift yourself up some more to align with his tip. His eyes open to gain sight of your leading again. You grab a hold of him, lowering yourself on his length. His hands snap to your hips, squeezing the skin harshly as his thoughts loosen up a bit.

You let out a relieved sigh. A light and soft wave climbs up from your thighs to breasts. The feeling of him inside you is unforgettable every time. You come to think if you’ll ever get tired of it.

You carefully push your hips back then right into his direction. Another sensation you feel. Xavier raises his head up again, but with his jaw hanging in awe. His hands grasp the curves at your sides harder. Creating a burning touch to your skin.

You continue the same rocking motion as before but to the pace of your liking. Which builds a stronger feeling through your body as well as his. Your nipples are growing harder through your bra. The cold air is hard to breathe in as well. Xavier’s scent still filling your nostrils.

You place your hands on-top of his, guiding him to rock your curves harder on him. Xavier struggles though, and only makes out a few rocks. He lowers his head back down before stopping himself from motioning you any further.

You’re only able to make out a few words for a second. “So— do I ride Tyler like this now?”

Xavier closes his jaw before speaking. He creates a hum, indicating his no as a response. “HmMm, just me. Please let it be only me. ”

He faintly chuckles after his words, trying to catch his breath and still focused in his pleasure.

“That’s right, just you Xavier.” You say, nodding your head reassuringly.

Your response makes him bite roughly on his wet and pink lip.

You rock your hips at a faster pace. Slipping your hand into the front of your panties. Creating a slow motion on your clit, driving your pleasure to more satisfaction. Xavier admires how good you’re making yourself feel. It turns him on to where his skin begins to grow hot. A slight redness appearing to his cheeks.

“Fuck— you’re driving me crazy.” He huffs while trying to catch his breath.

You continue rocking yourself as you love hearing his deeper voice. It relieves you.

After a few more motions you easily slip your hand back out of your panties. Placing both of your hands on his bare chest that’s heaving up and down. It’s soft, warm which brings a certain comfiness to your body.

His hands begin to rock your sides again. Strongly now, without struggle. He’s close and needs you. He always seems to push himself through the pressure whenever he is.

“Please make me come.” Xavier asks nicely, then opening his mouth for no words to come out. You move your eyes to his, which helps him. “Do it.”

“please.”

“please.”

“please.” He whispers over and over. His begging makes your stomach twist. He hated begging most of the time, yet you loved it when he did. And he’d do anything for you wether you asked or not.

So you decide to fulfill his and your needs. Your hips begin to move at a rougher and faster pace. Causing Xavier to furrow his brows in concentration. Your mouth opens in neediness.

Skin grows hotter, parts aching and orgasm almost reaching it’s point. You moan quietly, softly and Xavier follows after you but with a light groan. His eyes shut tightly along with yours.The strong wave hits the both of you. Causing a louder moan from you, and a groan from him.

“Holy shit—“ you quietly whisper. A smile appears on him and your mouth follows.

[starieq]

Are you going to finish loving her seems tiring???

“Lovin her seems tiring..” Part 5! a/n; sorry I haven’t been making part five! Haven’t been feeling motivated, but I know that’s no excuse. Also tysm for 165 followers??? Please forgive me and enjoy 😊! -Arianna 

Taggies/ warnings; Pro!HeroKats, cheating, fingering, creampie, blowjob, ridding, cumming, squirting, swearing, mention of sex toys, dirty talk, titty fuck, drinking, drunk messaging, dry humping.

Oh here we go again, It’s the next morning where you have to wake up to the morning sun. Though, you wish he was next to you in bed. Morning sun on his shirt less pecs and abs. His perfect dirty blonde hair over his eyes while he sleeps. God, he was really a fucking goddess. You still wonder if he feels the same. 

Now waking up sucks when you know Katsuki Bakugo isn’t by your side, holding you close to his chest. You really can imagine, huh. You roll out of bed, and do a little stretch. You grab your phone off the charger seeing the time is 7:21AM. You walk to the bathroom with your messy hair. You bend down the splash some water on your face to get yourself going. 

You pull out your phone to see a bunch of messages from your brother. You slide to see the messages to see your cute cat Loki. He had an apple under his chin while holding it with his little tiny paws. 

“Awww. My little kitty is so adorable!” You quickly send an heart emoji as well with an apple. You didn’t think twice but send it to Bakugo. Why? You honestly don’t know maybe he’ll find it cute? He never liked your cat, and Loki sure didn’t like him either. Every time it’s bring your pet to work day, Bakugo will try to give Loki some treats, but Loki just hides in your chest. You find Bakugos face really cute when he gets offended by Loki. 

As soon as you put your phone down, a “ding!” comes out your phone. You turn it over to the screen to see Bakugo has messaged. 

:Dynamight🧡💥: fuckin cat is cute n’ all, but he’s also a fuckin menace. 

You giggle at his message, and type back a silly message too.

:y/n: Nuh uh! You’re just jealous he doesn’t like you are your treats for him. 🙂‍↕️

He almost replies instantly with, 

:Dynamight🧡💥: no, he’s just fuckin bratty cat, just like you sweetheart. 

Sweetheart.

Sweetheart.

Sweetheart.

You swear he’s going to be the death of you. You feel yourself blush at the message. sweetheart. His text keeps repeating in your head.

:Dynamight🧡💥: what happen love? Did ya die or something? Need your strong pro hero to come and save your tiny self? 

Katsuki Bakugo you fucking-

:y/n: no thanks love, I can handle myself <3

He can’t be serious right now. You cant be serious right now! He has a fucking girlfriend! What are you thinking? Love? Well, it’s fair since he called you sweetheart and love too.. but it feels wrong, but right at the same time? Kira was a fucking brat. You could do way better than her. Treat him better, love him better. Do everything better.

Fuck you want him to be yours. 

I bet loving her seems tiring.. 

Katsuki’s POV!;

I just masturbated for her, and now I have to wake up with her not in my fucking arms? Fuck this. 

I wake up at 5:30 to go to the gym. Heard there was one here, so I figured there wasn’t going to be anyone there this early in the morning. I get into my gym clothes and walk by her door. 

“She’s probably sleepin Katsuki. Leave her the fuck alone and don’t knock.”he mutters to himself walking away. He really did love you. But his girlfriend is in the fucking way of his only love at this moment to forever. 

He gets to the gym and starts his workout. He loves thinking about you, and what you’d look like under him. But he also loves thinking about making you his cute little housewife. Thinking about you waking around the house pregnant with his baby. You making dinner for him after a long day at work. Running a warm bath and you joining him. Seeing your cute body and his big bulky body hovering in front of you. His big hands around your cute waist. Fuck he loved you a lot.

After his workout was done, (7:20AM) we wipes the sweat off his forehead when he gets a message. He looking at the screen noticing your name. 

:y/n: Lookie at Loki! Isn’t he just the cutest Katsuki? 

“Not as cute as you.” He almost types, but says out loud.

:Katsuki: fuckin cat is cute n’ all, but he’s also a fuckin menace. 

“Hidin in my girls chest when I’m right in front of him.” He mutters to himself. 

:y/n: Nuh uh! You’re just jealous he doesn’t like you or your treats for him. 🙂‍↕️

“He’s fucking lucky I even offer him my homemade cat treats. Bratty ass cat.” He types so fast he can hear the phone tap with him.

:Katsuki:  no, he’s just fuckin bratty cat, just like you sweetheart. 

“Sweetheart. Fuck now she’s not responding. “ little does he know you’re a fucking blushing mess at the other end.

:katsuki: what happen love? Did ya die or something? Need your strong pro hero to come and save your tiny self? 

“Fuck, now I’m fuckin flirting with her.” He waits for your response tapping his phone screen.

:y/n: no thanks love, I can handle myself <3

Love. Fuck that was cute. Now he’s a blushing ass mess. 

:Katsuki: if ya say so sweets.

You don’t respond after that, but you do heart the message. Maybe you do feel the same for him. He’s hoping and wishing oh a fucking star you love him like he loves you. 

Fuck, loving Kira is so tiring when he has you.. 

Taggies!; @slayfics @queenpiranhadon @zanarkandskylines @gold24fish @gina239 @bakugonextswife @lalachanya

[astarionspocketpussy]

Posting a snippet of the BG3 fic I'm working on here so I can keep myself motivated to finish this. I'm very proud of the dialogue I've got so far.

(Before you ask who all the new names are- Tavs. Lots of Tavs. How does this work? Imagine playing Co-Op with like 6 people. True DND party fashion. The companions have no idea what they're getting themselves into. Also I'm being self-indulgent by letting all the characters have cute little Tav romances. Except Gale and Halsin... maybe. We'll see. I'm still deciding if I want Halsin/Astarion/Tav content in this or not. Maybe as a future piece, set in a distant time where Astarion gets some therapy first. Anyways I digress onto the actual fic now.)

“He put a knife to your neck and you want to take him with us?!” Mara asked, throwing her hands into the air. The slight jingle of her light armor was a little distracting, but Heir steeled themselves to focus. They were not going to be defeated by mere sounds right now. 

“Well, he’s in the same boat we are,” Heir said. And besides, it seemed like the polite thing to do. He was handy with a dagger, but otherwise he looked a little too, what was the word he was looking for, pristine? He looked a little too pristine to leave all on his own. He might be able to handle little old Heir with his minimal combat experience, but some of the nastier things in the woods might just kill him. Heir didn’t want that on his conscious.

(No more blood. Gods, no more blood. He was so sick of the smell of it, even as part of him wistfully longed to feel it coating his blade once again.)

“I fucking hate you so much,” Dynasty grumbled. “Why do we keep bringing them places? Hm? Why do we take this bleeding heart on quests? He keeps dragging us into picking up strays.”

“I am hardly a stray, darling. If anyone looks like an abandoned animal, it’s you. When’s the last time you washed that mane of yours?” Astarion said, looking incredibly sour for a moment. His eyes seemed to linger on Dynasty's blonde hair, which had admittedly seen better days.

“I just killed six imps in three hours. Fuck off,” Dynasty snarled, hand twitching towards one of his daggers. He must be feeling crabby then. Normally he was far more diplomatic.

“It could be worse. Last time the guy he picked up turned out to be a cannibal,” Raerlyn said, seeming to relent at last. Maybe their puppy-dog eyes had convinced her. Or maybe she just wanted to get a move on as quickly as possible. (What was that face Astarion was making? Was the mention of cannibalism perhaps a bit much for him?)

“Tarrow was fine! He only ate one person!” Heir protested.

“One person was too many! Too many people!” Lucky interjected.

“Would you have rather him have starved?” Heir huffed. Really now, it wasn’t all that bad. It hadn’t even been messy.

“He categorically didn’t have to eat that guy though. That was the whole problem. He chose to eat that man for fun. We had food. He just wanted to eat a man,” Dynasty said, strangely calm for a man who had just been snapping at their new companion.

“Guys, is this really the time for this conversation?” Mara asked, though her question went unanswered.

“Oh like you all haven’t thought of it,” Heir said, rolling their eyes.

Raerlyn bowed her head for a moment, lips moving in silent prayer. When she looked up she seemed to have some sort of acceptance washing over her. “I have never thought of nibbling on the corpses of my fallen enemies, no,” she said.

“Well you’re a paladin Raerlyn, that’d break your oath,” they replied. He was pretty sure Paladins weren’t allowed to do any nibbling on anything even remotely questionable.

“You’re all mad,” Lucky huffed.

“We have established this,” Mara said, shrugging. “But it's not all of us. Heir is just a special kind of strange. We’re all probably missing a few nuts for letting him tag along with us.”

“He does seem like a particularly odd man,” Astarion added, breaking his silent observation of the party. “And, forgive me for saying this, perhaps not quite all there in the head?”

“Hey. Don’t call him stupid,” Dynasty snapped. “You don’t know him. And let’s not forget you’re the one who tried to attack him not even ten minutes ago. Keep your mouth shut or I’ll shut it for you.”

“How brutish of you. That wasn’t even a particularly clever threat. I’ve heard better, darling,” Astarion said, waving the rogue off. Dynasty finally gave up, throwing his hands into the air and stalking off, muttering darkly about finding a large rock with which to bash the elf’s skull in.

Heir, finally caught up to the conversation, blinked once or twice and then hesitantly asked, “He was calling me stupid?”

Mara groaned, burying her face in her hands.

“So are you all always like this?” Shadowheart chimed in, turning to Pysansha, the only other person in the party who had remained quiet.

“Unfortunately, yes. Always. Constantly,” he said, shaking his head. “You might be better off running while you still can.”

“And risk leaving you all to your own devices? I’ll pass,” the cleric said, grinning slightly. “Besides, I do admit the bickering is quite humorous, in a morbid sort of way.”

“Congratulations. You’ll fit right in,” Pysansha said. “…Lucky, help me scout. I don’t want to navigate these woods on foot without an idea of where we’re taking the group first. With our luck we’ll get lost.”

[chubbyreaderwriter]

Joke Pt 2

Sirius Black X Chubby/Plus Size Reader

Imagine: Sirius really likes you but his reputation makes you think he’s using you for a joke. He has to prove his feelings for you but it goes horribly wrong.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: none?

Part 1

Masterlist

previously

You looked him in the eyes and you sighed, “I’m sorry, I do forgive you but I don’t think we can be anything more than friends at the moment. I’ll see you around.” You turned around and walked away, wondering if you did the right thing or not. Meanwhile, Sirius was frozen in place, he admit it could’ve gone a lot worse but it wasn’t what he hoped would happen. He was glad that you forgave him but he still had to prove he was serious about you. He wanted to show you that he liked you, in fact, he was probably falling in love with you. But he wasn’t going to give up, he’d get you to fall in love with him by the end of the year...

You stared up at the ceiling of your bed, lying on your back with your hands interlocked over your stomach. It was after hours but still just a Saturday which meant you didn’t have to worry about accidentally sleeping in for class the next morning. You were lying on top of your sheets in your gryffindor-themed pyjamas, thinking about the recent events in your life. The last day or two had been unlike any other. You couldn’t believe that Sirius had humiliated you in such a way. Every time you thought about how everyone pointed and stared and laughed at you, you felt like there was a lump in your throat, feelings of dread bubbling as you realised you would have to see those people again on Monday. You could see now that Sirius might have thought it was a harmless joke, but you were sick of being the butt of the joke all the time, you were sick of being someone people thought it was okay to point and laugh at. You didn’t want to be a laughing stock.

A tap on your shoulder brought you out of your thoughts and you turned your head to see Lily’s familiar red hair falling down her face and into your view. She gave you a sympathetic smile and lightly tapped your side twice with the back of her hand, a silent request for you to move over. You complied and watched as she lay down next to you, mimicking your position, though had her head tilted to face you, “I’m really sorry (Y/N), I know he’s a prat but I thought he would at least consider your feelings. I’ll talk to him if you want? Make sure he stays away from you.” You released a deep sigh and gave Lily a small smile, she was always looking out for you, “That’s okay, you don’t need to do that. I’ll be fine.” Lily’s eyes still held a considerable amount of concern, “Are you s-”

A loud snore interrupted Lily’s next words and the two of you looked over to the bed opposite yours where a fast asleep Molly Prewett lay, open-mouthed and messy ginger locks splayed all over her pillows. You and Lily shared a look before covering your mouths to muffle your laughs as not to wake the other girl. Lily rolled onto her side to give you a quick hug, “I’ll let you go to sleep now, you need to be rested if we’re going to do all our homework tomorrow like you promised.” You mentally groaned, you’d forgotten about that. You had at least six different pieces to complete by Wednesday, but Lily liked to do it all together with you, to make sure it wasn’t late. You gave her a smile and flicked your wand to shut your curtains, muffling the noise of Molly’s snoring to help you sleep. You turned over onto your side and let out a deep breath before closing your eyes and slowly drifting to sleep.

The next day, you’d tried your best not to think about Sirius and you’d been doing well, thanks to Lily and Molly. You had all sat together with a couple other girls in your year at breakfast so your view of the marauders gang was blocked and therefore, you had no reason to think about one of them in particular. As soon as breakfast had finished, you’d been dragged away to the library to uphold your promise. You moaned and complained about all the work you had to do but one stern look from Lily shut you up as she went over the instructions for the potions homework. You hadn’t been given an opportunity to think about anything else other than work when studying with Lily. You and Molly kept trying to make excuses for why you couldn’t do the work today, but Lily reminded you both that you agreed to do this with her. You put your hands together, elbows on the table, and whined, “Come on Lily, we’ve been doing this for 3 hours straight, can we please take a break?” Molly nodded along to your begging, adding, “Yeah, my hands all cramped up from writing so much, I need twenty minutes to get back some motivation.” Lily rolled her eyes, “Fine, 15 minutes, but not a second longer.” You grinned, perking up in your seat, “Yes!”

Amidst your victory, you hadn’t noticed four gryffindor students sneaking their way into the library, desperately avoiding the librarian, and making their way over the table next to your own until they were pushing their chairs in. Their table was coincidentally located behind a large bookshelf so the librarian wouldn’t be able to see the group sitting there. You tensed up and both Molly and Lily shot you worried looks but you shook your head, silently communicating with them to say that you were fine. You heard someone clearing their throat quietly but you didn’t look up, choosing to ignore whoever it was. Lily looked over Molly’s head to see James waving her over to them. She shook her head and crossed her arms, ignoring the defeated look on Potter’s face. She turned her attention back down to the parchment paper in front of her, sorting it all out into the different subjects.

Molly leaned over to whisper in your ear, “Reckon me and you should hex their arses into next week, filthy toads.” You gave her a look of mock disappointment, “That’s not nice, toads are much better company.” Molly snorted and you giggled under your breath. Sirius heard the sound and looked over in your direction, one hand on the back of his chair and on the table to turn his torso around to gaze at you. The sound of your laughter was like music to his ears and he only wished he was the one making you laugh instead. He wished for a lot of things when it came to you actually. He wished he could hold you in his arms, he wished he could kiss you, he wished he could sweep you off your feet, he wished you had the same feelings for him as he did for you. But of course, he couldn’t make those wishes come true and was having to settle for watching you from a distance. Remus, who was sitting next to Sirius, nudged him with his shoulder, “Cut it out, you’ve been staring for ages.” Sirius reluctantly turned back around in his chair, facing James and Peter. He huffed and sulked, looking down at the table as though it was responsible for all of the wrongdoings in his life. James scoffed at his friend’s attitude, “Why are you so hooked up on this girl? You’re Sirius Black, you don’t do relationships.” Sirius only sighed in response to James’ question. It was true, he’d never felt this way about a girl before, it had scared him at first, but every time he saw you, it made him excited and it felt like there were butterflies in his stomach trying to get out. 

James and Remus shared a look with each other, if their friends was acting like this, then they knew it was serious. James pushed Peter onto his feet and told him to distract the librarian and when she saw him, she wasted no time in dragging the plump boy out by his ear, presumably to Dumbledore’s office. Sirius was oblivious as he still hadn’t taken his eyes off of you. You could feel his gaze on you and it was starting to make you feel uncomfortable, but not as much as when you saw James approaching your table. He pulled a chair up between you and Lily, resting his arms on the table, “Good morning ladies, now i believe we have to talk about the elephant in the room.” You tried not to laugh at the bored look on Molly’s face. James was unbothered by the silence and continued, turning to face you. “So, (Y/N), now that Sirius has apologised and all, what do you say you give my boy a chance huh? Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about being with the Sirius Black.” As much as you could appreciate how good of a friend James was being right now, you really wanted to punch him in the face. James flinched back and seemingly lost all his courage when he saw your face twist in anger. “I don’t care if he apologised, he embarrassed me in front of everyone. I was humiliated. How would you feel if everyone was pointing and laughing at you everywhere you went. I couldn’t even go into the common room without people whispering about me. I’m sick of being laughed at, so you go back and tell your friend that if he wants to come talk to me, then do it himself because if i hear his name come out of your mouth again, I’m going to hex you into next week.” 

James slowly nodded his head, choking out, “Message received. I’ll leave you lot to it then.” He was only too eager to head back to the others and gave Sirius a sympathy tap on the shoulder, “Yeah, I wish i could say I helped but that would be a lie, you’re welcome anyway.” Sirius visibly drooped in his chair out of defeat and Remus pulled him onto his feet by the arm, “Come on lads, we should get a move on before she comes back, I don’t feel like having my ear yanked on today.” The trio left but Sirius kept his eyes on you until you were out of sight. James and Remus stood either side of him, James put his hand on Sirius’ shoulder, “Mate, you’ve got to get over her or do something about it. You can’t just be a creep and stare at her.” Remus scoffed, “‘Cause what you do to Lily is completely different.” James went silent so Remus grabbed his friend’s attention, “Why don’t you try getting her something she likes? Think of it like a peace offering before you talk to her again.” Sirius nodded along, “Yeah alright, thanks mate.”

Earlier in the evening, you had been walking back from the Great Hall on your own, but you didn’t quite mind it that much. Sometimes it was nice to have some alone time with your thoughts. It was a bit too cold to walk outside so you headed straight for the common room, sitting on a couch, staring at the fire. You sighed as you checked your watch, deciding to wait until Lily returned from whatever she was doing to go to bed. The portrait opened and you heard soft footsteps. Out of curiousity, you turned your head to look behind you to see Sirius with something in his hand. For a brief second the two of you made eye contact and your eyes widened as you quickly turned back around to pretend like you didn’t see him. When that brilliant plan failed and you heard him walking over to you, you winced and mentally cursed yourself for not going straight upstairs. To your surprise, he didn’t sit down next to you, instead stood by your side, a little far aways as to not be too close.

He was quieter than usual, which made you look up to see his mouth open as though he wanted to say something but he couldn’t get the words out. He looked nervous and almost worried and you couldn’t believe that the man before you was actually Sirius, this was so unlike him. You furrowed your brow in concern, “Are you okay?” The worry on your face was enough to snap him out of it and he gave you a small smile, looking down at the black box he held in his hands. It was square and not overly large but not very small either and neatly tied with a dark red ribbon complete with a bow on top. He fiddled with it as he spoke, “I wanted to apologise once more about.. you know what. It was wrong of me and I hope the two of us can begin to become friends again. This is for you, I wasn’t sure what you’d like but I saw these and thought of you and so..” he paused to catch his breath and you reached your hand out to place over his, giving him a half smile, “Friends?” you said. Sirius nodded in return, handing over the box, “Friends.” Once you held the box in your hands, you started to unwrap the bow on the top of the box. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed how he couldn’t keep still as he anticipated your reaction. Carefully, you pulled the lid off and you let out a small gasp as you looked in the box. Inside were a beautiful pair of earrings that had a gold wire wrapped around a deep red crystal. They seemed to shimmer in the reflection of the fire and you were in awe.

You put them back in the box and turned to face him once more, “I can’t accept these, it’s too much.” Sirius stepped back out of your reach in protest, “You’ve already taken them.” You rolled your eyes, gesturing towards him with the box in your hand, “Stop it, just take them back, it’s too much I mean it.” Once more, he denied your request and firmly told you, “As your friend, I insist you keep them.” You sighed in defeat and slouched down back into your seat, “Oh alright.” Sirius grinned in victory, “I’m glad you like them, so I’ll see you around then, eh (Y/L/N)?” You shook your head but were secretly smiling to yourself, “Sure thing Black.” You heard his footsteps retreating and then ascending up the stairs to the boys dormitories. Now that you were pretty much alone again, you pulled out the earrings once more to admire them, holding them in your hands and you had to urge to bring them up to hold against your chest. You’d never received such a gift before, you loved them. Maybe he really didn’t mean to hurt your feelings?

[notasiren21]

26 for Lukanette WIPs please. :)

26. Party Crasher!Luka

I FUCKED UP AND JUST WROTE IT I GUESS???

Party Crasher

-Lukanette oneshot

“You mean to tell me Agreste ditched you? After all that pleading to let him take you to the party for your successful launch line for next season, he’s ditched you?”

“Kagami, don’t kill him.”

“Fine, remind me why I can’t though? This is such an ass move of his if he’s trying to prove he’s the one for you.”

“Because,” Marinette grits out, faking a toothy smile to a work couple that waves from passing, “I want to castrate and kill him myself.”

Kagami laughs roughly in surprise, “Why the castration?”

“So I can fit his small ass into the tightest pair of skinny jeans we have for our tall teenage girls.” The not so stoic girl sips on her wine, pleased with her friend’s rage. “I told him I haven’t been interested since we were 14, but him thinking I’ll forgive him if I even had a silver of interest in dating him? Fuck him.”

“Or,” Kagami drawls, long nails tapping the stem of her glass as she leans to peer over her friend’s shoulder, “You could fuck him instead?”

Mari gasps in offense, “I am NOT trying for a one night stand, no matter what you guys say.”

“No, you little mouse,” she admonishes, fully heartedly agreeing with the sentiment, “I just mean your big and handsome protective snake is here to save the day.”

Marinette’s mind took a second longer to click the pieces together, trying to make sense of Kagami’s nicknames for her friend group, before her heart thudded and she slowly turned.

There, passing by the models who had walked in Marinette’s designs and batted their false lashes at the rockstar, was Luka Couffaine.

Dressed to the nines in a very punk like and sophisticated way that revealed he very much wanted to impress her and did in fact listen to her fashion advice. Black skinny jeans only he could pull off, high top converse and a white button up with a black vest to overlay it. The cheeky and handsome bastard forgoing the tie to leave one too many buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattoos.

Oh, on the life of his cat Sass was she proud of him.

And maybe drooling just a little?

He approached her, a sly smile working its way to his lips as he eyed her up and down, eyes shining bright at her black low cocktail that she paired with navy blue heels.

So maybe she sometimes used Luka as a whole for inspiration.

He raised a hand, finger wrapping around a loose curled tendril out of an elegantly messy low bun, “I thought it was the models you were supposed to make the stars of the show.”

“Had I known you were gonna show up, I would’ve worn one of my bests here.”

His hand froze, “This isn’t your best? You tease,” he broke out in a grin. His hand moved further, thumbing at the collection of piercings in her ear he accompanied her with to get years ago. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

“Well, I’m suddenly glad I can only acknowledge this as awkward and not feel it.” Kagami noted into her class. Her phone buzzed, electing a sigh from her as she began turning. “Have fun, my mother decided to remind me why this wine was a good idea to have before she came.”

She watched her friend walk away, her other -her best friend and other half, remained taking her in and stroking the soft spot under her ear he once claimed with a mark-

The one time they admitted their crushes and strong attraction towards the other the night before he left for tour years ago.

It was the only time Luka had indulged himself in his wants and desires, the only time he had asked to and still provided her with an out. And now he still remains far off in her memories, even as he stands in front of her with that look on his face years later.

“How did you,” she swallows when his soft gaze flicks back up to her eyes with his full attention. “How did you get in? It’s a ticket only event.”

He shrugged, turning to offer her an arm and walk around. “I may or may not have seen Adrien’s post about his mom and dad going to a gala event and him going to see his cousin there. Seems like that took precedence I guess.”

Marinette huffed low, “Félix has been in town for three weeks. Adrien and I had lunch with him the other day.”

Luka stilled as a busboy stopped in front of them, offering them glasses of champagne. Luka’s nose twitched, then his lip as he turned away with a polite smile. Marinette shook her head in turn as well.

“You know you don’t have to pass just because of me, right?”

“Hey, we do this ‘young 20 some year olds unable to drink alcohol’ in solidarity together.” He cracked a smile at that, “Soda is my alcohol.”

“Alright, you can be an honorary member of the alcohol intolerance club.” Luka laughed when she hummed gleefully. “Dork.”

“Nerd.”

“So, back on topic, Adrien just really had no excuse then?”

“Ha, no, even his dad stopped by an hour ago to congratulate me and get press photos done to promote the line. All his son did for me was send a text with a sad face attached to his cancellation.”

“... I can kick his ass, you know?”

“I know, I’m just saving for a rainy day.” She laughed, stepping closer to his side and wrapping both arms around his. “So, the ticket, you party crasher.”

“Right, yeah, I may or may not have called your assistant earlier today to swipe it. I took a guess that she held onto it for safe keeping so-,”

“She’s new, I’m not surprised she just gave it up that easily.” She let Luka guide her into a dance. One hand with painted black holding hers to his chest, the other gently tugging to hold his shoulder before he held her waist.

“Oh, that, that explains a lot now.”

“What?”

He flinched, a nervous glint flashing across his features. “I may or may not have lied about who exactly I was since she didn’t know my name-,”

“Doesn’t listen to your music, already told her the sin she was committing.”

“And who I was to you, specifically-,”

Marinette tilted her head back in a laugh, Luka’s arm tightening to brace her weight, “You said you were my husband, didn’t you?”

He flushes at a memory of once getting a creep off her back a year ago by claiming that very title to her.

“Erm, no, I said I was your boyfriend and may have sold it by saying some pet name and swooning over you just a little,” he watched her eyes go wide then soft, a smile twitching to show. He stepped closer, almost pulling her flush to him, “But if that’s what you want, I can go out and get some marriage certificate?”

She flushed, lips parting and a rush of air passing them.

“Maybe call Jagged up and fly us to Vegas? I mean, we’re both looking good right now, you more so.” Her face went a shade or two deeper. She jumped in surprise when he let go of her hand to play with a tendril again on the right side, tilting her face to press a kiss to her left cheek. “God, you’re such a pretty little thing.”

She squeaked.

“What, what was the pet name?”

“Hm?” He lazily met her gaze, a dream like haze filter over them as he moved her body to sway with his. “Oh, that.”

“What was it?”

Baby, babygirl, beautiful, gorgeous- he may have said more than one.

He gave a slow and wicked grin, twirling her out and back into his chest in a swift and stunning movement as he nudged his nose to hers.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teased, smile spreading wider and radiant as she forgot to breathe for a second.

What. A fucking. Tease.

The need for him to make good on his words and looks hit through her hard and reminded her of their one night together that they both never forgotten. And how much she wished that was every night, as long as it ended up with them curled right around each other and love and happiness coaxing them to sleep instead of stress and loneliness.

He watched her steel her gaze, her jaw tightened. He swallowed when her height, now of five feet thanks to heels, straightened and forced him to pull up. A violent shiver rocked through him when both hands held along the back of his neck, one slipping under the collar of his shirt to scratch along the nape.

“Marinette-,” he choked.

“I’m only asking so I can show my reciprocation.” She leaned closer, kicking her shoes off into some corner and standing on his converse that every elder of theirs had eyed in question during the night. He supported her actions fully, of course. Still stepping them around in dance within a fluid motion. “Not gonna tell me, hun?”

He coughed, loudly and looked away from her to catch his breath. Watching adults cheat on spouses everywhere or everyone else minding their own business to stare at models or the shrimp on the tables.

He almost tripped when she wined in protest, her hand gripping his chin lightly and turning it to face her. His eyes were flickering between admiration, lust and love, growing three shades of deeper blue than was possible.

“C’mon, baby, tell me.”

“Baby?” He stammered out in surprise. Teenage Luka was having a fucking field day with this. “Marinette, I was only joking earlier and-,”

“Were you really though?”

“No,” his response was fast and instant, a wince playing at the corner of his eyes and his button nose scrunching in loss of control.

“Hey handsome,” he preened under the nickname passing her lips, even if close to millions called him the same thing, it paid more effect when it was Marinette calling him it. “Tell me why you came tonight.”

His neck was aching from staring down to meet her eyes now that the heels were gone but he let himself down lower to press his forehead to hers. “Because you deserve better than what he gives you.”

The girl stilled, expecting an awkward or a flirtatious remark. “What?”

The rockstar looked away sheepishly, a little ashamed. “I know you’re considering getting with him, but when I heard he was canceling on you I let my jealousy win out and I just wanted to be there for you.” He bit his lip when he felt her tugging his face back in her direction, choosing to resist the pressure. “You have to believe me when I say I came with no ulterior motives other than protecting you from going stag to your own party tonight.”

“You, you came to protect me?”

He shrugged, another small shiver racking through him when her hands moved along and glided across his neck. “And make sure you had a good night. I even asked your mom what you were wearing tonight just so I could make sure my outfit complimented yours to cheer you up.”

She was silent for a minute or so, and he waited, patiently as ever and guiding her to rest her head against his chest as he swayed them.

Luka, doing all the work. Luka, taking matters into his own hands when someone fails her. Luka, going the extra mile to make sure she has a happy memory.

Fuck giving second chances to other people. Luka is the only one to have shown her he’s the most earning of the concept and notion.

She pulls away, feeling the slight reluctance in his arms on her waist before they drop to his side, “Grab my heels.”

He raises a black brow but complies, turning to find them and hooking his fingers in the backs. He eyes them, used to seeing her shoes laying around the Liberty when she comes over or even at her own place, but he always has to remark that, “You have small feet.”

“You’ve also called them cute,” she huffs, tugging on his hand and pulling him near the entrance.

He follows, like they always do for one another. “Because they are- where are we going?” He stops them as they round an empty corridor, away from the hotel’s event room where the party is still very much happening. The heel of his palm grips tight to archway, pressing against it, the small shoes still dangling in his hold.

“Home, your place or mine. Actually, mine’s closer.”

He laughs brightly, “You can’t ditch your own party for another movie night, Mari.”

The petite girl turns to him, a fierce expression in his eyes that makes him swallow harshly. “No, but I can ditch to celebrate in getting what I really want. For finally getting what I want.”

“The Chinese takeout place is closed this time of ni-,”

“You.”

“What?” Luka wheezes, he blinks stupidly at her. Prettily and stupidly. He straightens, freehand tugging at his collar a little like he needs room to breathe. “Come again?”

“I’m going home. I’m taking you with me. And we’re gonna celebrate that I finally got off my ass and got what I wanted.”

He hums, nervously and a bounce starting in his hand, a shake in one hand, his dark brows furrow, “And you want?”

“You.”

“You- you want,” he sucks in a sharp breath, pain flashing across his features as he clears his throat. “You want me?”

Her eyes soften, a smile showing as she steps closer to him and takes his face into her hands, pulling him down to be eye level with her as he braces his weight on the wall next to them with a hand.

“Yes,” he looks awestruck as she giggles. “I want you... can you let me keep you?”

He laughs nervously, “I’ll fucking sell myself to you if that’s what you really want, fuck.”

She’s smiling, leaning up on tiptoes to alleviate the strain in his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips, muffling the undignified noise of surprise that escapes him. She lets him get used to her for a second, kissing him slowly and purposely as starts to eventually overcome the shock and kiss her back in reverence.

He pulls away suddenly, a guilted expression on his face.

“Wait, wait. What about Adrien?”

“What about him?”

Luka fidgets, a quick glimpse of insecurities and jealousy showing to her before he regains a semblance of control after having his walls knocked down. “He’s been trying to go out with you, win you affections.”

He only knows of the situation, but never presses her to talk about it. It’s natural for it to come up in conversation everyday when he asks her about work knowing the stress of being twenty-two in a high end fashion company could be a bit more than overwhelming. He wanted to be a safe place to her since the beginning.

“There’s nothing about him. I’ve shut him down an handful of times and now it’s just a matter of letting him indulge himself in what he thinks are romantic gestures when me saying no doesn’t cut it. There’s nothing going on between him and I, just his belief that my crush from years ago accounts for something today.”

Luka still looks wary and isn’t touching her, most likely his conscious trying to be the better person between him and Adrien by not going out with the girl his friend is pining after.

Even if said girl is Luka’s legitimate best friend and the very same girl he’s been in love with since he was a kid.

Marinette feels like it’s a dirty tactic as she gets closer to him, trying to gauge where it’s jealousy and where it’s insecurity in regards to Adrien.

She presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Luka’s head turns minutely at the attention, tilting less than a centimeter to catch her lips before he catches himself. He struggles when her next kiss falls to his lips and is soft and slow, how he always wants to kiss her.

“Remember our first kiss?” She whispers, wounding arms around his waist and pressing close to him.

He matches her volume, an adoring look winning for a split second, “Of course I remember.”

“Remember our first date?”

“At the ice cream parlor, you wore a pink skirt that kept twirling when you did.” She feels his resolve break a little, his own right to be selfish with her slipping out a little.

His arms slip around her, and he presses a gentle kiss to her temple. “Remember our goodbye at the airport?” His arms tightening around her speak more volumes than his strained, “Yes,” does.

She’s just a little closer to convincing him to stop being so sacrificial with his own wants or needs. She just has to push more.

“Remember waking up in one another’s arms that morning?”

He’s silent for a few seconds, thinking of what he can say in response to that. Wondering how honest to be, “... every day, I think of that morning every day.”

She still hears the clipped apprehension in his voice. That tone she knows so well that’s gonna lead into him giving her advice to rethink this whole decision and talk to him when she’s absolutely sure. How she shouldn’t think on impulse and lunge at what she wants unless she knows she does wanna keep with it.

But, he has to know she always thinks back on moments with him and that she longs to have jumped on impulse if it meant being with him.

Every time he’s showed up with takeout at her place. When he smiles so freely at her. When he bandages her cuts and blisters from working all night long.

When he showed up tonight looking like he had been her dare to begin with. How her heart felt when he admitted to lying to her secretary. The way he looked carrying her high heels that were much too small for his hands but he didn’t care because she asked him to.

How he crashed her own party to make sure she’d have fun tonight.

She’s sure she wants this, him.

All those nicknames they could call each other. All the benefits of dating the other and having a date to everything the other needs to attend. Having her best friend be her boyfriend meaning there’s no holding back from anything.

She’ll cringe about it in the morning, but it’s gotta work to break his long instilled fear of being a bad friend or person. Of being unselfish.

“Do you still remember that night?”

She’s sure he’s stopped breaking by the way his entire body seems to shut down, but then it reboots and he’s shaking against her and can’t seem to breathe correctly, his eyes avoiding hers as he swallows again and looking like he’s willing to risk going into an allergic reaction for the sake of one drink.

“That- that’s not something you forget, Marinette.” His hands are twitching on her waist, grip tightening just a little and a vein is jumping in his arm to do something to prove he remembers alright.

One more push, “Do you still remember how I tasted that night?”

He seizes her waist, lunging to kiss her desperately like he did that night and when he left, a growl passing his lips onto hers. He’s cupping the back of her neck, fingers threading through her hair, breathing her in and shaking against her as his resolves breaks completely and the selfish side comes out. The one that’s nowhere near as selfish as the average person, but enough to take in the matter of his own needs and wants. He pulls back, letting her watch his eyes darken, the pupils expanding until the blues are next to near mere ridges of color. He’s watching hers do the same before he nudges her nose and kisses her slowly, more loving and affectionate. His control slipping back into place and resulting in the Luka she so loves regaining the handles of his own mind.

He’s careful in the way he tugs her lip with his teeth, how he coaxes her to let him kiss her fully before pull back and panting against her lips.

“Yes, I remember,” his voice is rough and he has to glance away from her and straighten. She watches him take a few meditative breaths before he looks back at her.

“Does that really help?” She gestures to his chest and mouth, “the breathing?”

He laughs hollowly, “No, not really, but it bought me time to create some distance in this,” he glances around, “Not your apartment place.”

She laughs at the suddenly horrified look that crosses his face, the image of them making out and the threat of almost being caught in public instantly dawning on him. He glares playfully at her.

“You did that all on purpose.”

“Had to, you were just about to give me up for the sake of being a good friend to me and Adrien.” She pauses, a wicked idea forming to prove her point, “Unless, you want Adrien to know what that all is like?”

A dark look crosses Luka’s face; unrestrained bouts of suppressed jealousy, possessiveness and territoriality. “No,” he growls out, eyes squeezing shut and having to clear his throat. “I’d rather not let him know any of that personally.”

“Not even how I taste?”

“Marinette,” he warned, the growl resurfacing. She cooed, wrapping him up in a hug and pressing a kiss to his jaw as an apology. He whined, “It’s not funny when you do that.”

“No, but everything you feel is alright to feel. Don’t hold back for the sake of not being selfish. You can be selfish with me, you’re a reasonable guy and know boundaries.” She sighed, nuzzling further into his warm embrace. “I don’t like Adrien the way he wants me to, and lately, it’s hard to even be his friend. He needs to move on from me. Hell, I’m better friends with Félix now than him.”

“Just hope they don’t switch up on you again.”

She huffed in amusement. “God no, I’d kill them.”

“It’s adorable how how your less than five feet body resorts to violence and death threats.”

“Mm, except you, I’m quite fond of you.” She looks up at him, chin pressed to his chest and smiling when he looks at her softly and presses a kiss to her nose. “This, us, is not an impulse. Just a restrained want I’ve had for awhile.”

“Okay, I understand now.”

She grins cheekily at him, “Or need, if that makes you all possessive hot yet secretly adorable rockstar boyfriend mode again.”

“Boyfriend?” He smiled slowly, radiant as always and heart stopping. “If teenage me could hear you, he’d probably shut down from being overwhelmed.”

“Nineteen year old you certainly didn’t that night,” she mumbles, grinning at the loud bark of laughter that surprises the both of them when Luka throws his head back.

“Yeah, thanks for reminding me what age I lost it at, totally rockstar of me, right?” The blush that’s coating his neck and ears is adorable, a shy smile quirking at her briefly.

“I think it’s sweet, cute even.”

“Yeah, because you’re the one I lost it to.” He deadpanned without conviction. “But, I guess I’ll take being sweet and cute.”

“It’s okay though, I mean, I did the cliché of losing my virginity to someone I was in love with.” Luka does in fact shut down in her embrace hearing that. Hands jittering against her and fingers tapping like he’s trying to speak through notes against her skin.

He takes another minute, before pressing a kiss to her hair. “If this is you confessing your love to me -and believe me, it’s killing me to stop you right now, I’d rather you do it in regards to another topic and not the fact that we were one another’s first time.” He avoids the dangerous smirk aimed his way, or the sharp angle of her cocked, black brow above breathtaking blues. “C’mon, let’s go dance some more and celebrate your success before we leave, maybe find your assistant to introduce me as your boyfriend to.”

She pours at him when he tugs on her hand in the direction of the party. “But-,”

He breathed out shakily, a waning patient look in his eyes and a false smirk aimed at her. “Can I sleep over tonight?”

“Do you want to?”

“Yes,” he breathed. “I’m very close to just following you home at this point, trust me. I don’t care how the night ends, just as long as it’s you and me tonight.”

She’s letting him make them dance again, feeling as the nerves leave his body as he gets them to fall in step with the tempo. He doesn’t care that he has to bend a little ways down to rest his cheek on her hair, not when she’s letting him pull her up against his chest when she typically only reaches the bottom of his rib cage.

They work well together, they fit perfectly together because they’re more than used to the instinctive adapting to one another.

Her hands cup his cheeks, kissing him carefully without reservation and the anxiety, “It was only an impulse at times because I love you and have for awhile.”

Luka deepens the kiss just a little, thankful she’s the type of girlfriend to let him indulge in her as he smiles, “I get it, I’ve had my share of impulsive thoughts for as long as I’ve been in love with you since we were young. I love you, Mari.”

“Enough to crash a party for me, apparently,” she whispered, a little moved by the thought that they were finally together. He thumbed her tears away.

“Enough to kill Adrien or Félix if you ask me to,” he replied in a loving tone, soothing her gasps for air when she broke apart in giggles against his chest in reaction.

He didn’t leave after that night. And he went to every party as her date too.

[works-of-fanfiction]

Together - 90s!Graham Coxon x Reader

Summary: Graham takes care of the reader after a particularly hard couple of weeks.

Warnings: Literally none - straight up, good old-fashioned fluff.

Word Count: 2.8k

Side Note: I haven’t written since 2019 or something like that, so forgive me if this isn’t the best!

————-

Sometimes you wonder whether your job is actually worth the exhaustion - your hand comes up to turn out the office light, exactly two hours and seventeen minutes later than you’d expected. Maybe it’s too much to ask for the work day to end at your contracted time. You scoff at yourself at the sheer thought, like your managers would ever treat you like a human being.

The tube ride home feels longer than usual, and you’re completely unable to focus on the book balanced in your lap. You’d always tried to be one of those leave work at work people - ‘don’t take your work home with you’ everyone says… but it’s impossible. You were good at your job, no doubt about that, but that came with the downside of being taken advantage of. People aren’t going to do their own dirty work when the overachiever down the corridor can do it for them. Though, how could you ever refuse? Why would you risk saying ‘no’?

Swinging the apartment door open, you drop your bag onto the ground and nudge it further to the side with your foot. Your loud entrance does not go unnoticed by your droopy-eyed boyfriend sprawled on the armchair. The first thing you feel when you see him is guilt. You don’t want to be the reason he forces himself to stay awake. You don’t want to be so fragile that he feels he can’t go to bed without seeing you first to make sure you’re alright. Once he catches sight of you, a weak smile spreads across his lips as he drags himself to his feet and shuffles over to where you’re standing. You paste a fake smile onto your face, hoping you can lie and pretend you had a good day so he can finally get some sleep.

“Hey sweetheart.” Graham mumbles, holding out his arms for you to fall into. You do just that, your head sinking onto his shoulder, inhaling his scent like it’s the last chance you’ll get. He holds you tightly in the doorway, supporting your body weight as you limply cling onto him. You claw at the back of his shirt, gathering the fabric between your fingers as if he could slip away any moment and disappear. His only response to this is to squeeze you as his chin rests on your head. “Hard day?” He finally asks, separating the two of you and holding you at arms length.

You don’t want to be a burden and you’d already come home from work two nights out of five this week feeling like this. You begin to shake your head, hoping that the lie will be easier to tell if you don’t speak, but as you stare into Graham’s eyes, you know he doesn’t buy it. The look on his face is all too familiar; he can read you like a book and he knows damn well that you’re not OK. Your head shake slowly evolves into a nod, and you don’t hold back the first sob that leaves your lips. Graham immediately catches you in his grasp again, holding you as you cry into his chest. He doesn’t waste time trying to find the right words to say to you because he knows that’s not what you need. You don’t need a soppy, motivational speech or a string of “it’s okay”s. Instead, you’re comforted by the beating of Graham’s heart and the warmth from his body as he carefully steps back and begins to guide you into the living room. You stand up straight and slip your hand into his, lacing your fingers together in that perfect way that just feels right. No matter where you are, as long as your hand finds his, you know you’re safe and that everything is going to be alright.

As you go to sit down, Graham stops you and helps slide your coat off of your shoulders. You sniffle, quietly thanking him as he tosses it over the back of the armchair. You sink onto the sofa, the throw blanket from the back already slipping off and bunching up behind you. You adjust, your fingers pinching at the stray hairs sticking to your tear-stained cheeks. All you can do is stare at your feet, your eyes tracing the triangular patterns on your socks - Graham’s socks that you’d put on in a hurry that morning. The extra bit of fabric hanging off the tip of your toes makes that evident. You’re too focused on the ground beneath you to hear Graham go into the kitchen.

He boils the kettle, reaching into the very back of the cupboard to find your favourite mug - a round cream-coloured cup with a black cat’s face painted onto it, wearing a pair of red glasses. He’d bought it for you in Camden as a silly little gift, but you fell in love with it the moment you saw it and have treasured it ever since. Though you barely use it, as you can’t trust your own clumsiness and you’re too scared you’ll break it.

Graham makes your tea just the way you like it and carefully carries it into the living room. He remembers to bring the half-eaten packet of custard creams with him too. He’s not sure you’ll want them, but he usually sneakily dips one into your tea when you’re not looking so they won’t entirely go to waste. With one hand, he pushes all the clutter on the coffee table to one side, and places the cup down in front of you with the cat facing in your direction. You look up, a small smile on your face as you spot the mug. Graham squeezes through the gap between your knees and the coffee table to sit down beside you.

“That was the last teabag, so drink up.” He gently teases, pointing at the cup. A small exhale of air from your nose is all you can muster to show your amusement as you reach forward and take a slow sip. It’s perfect, and that feeling of sad happiness washes over you. You’re happy to have Graham; happy that he’s there for you and happy that he remembers your particular taste in hot drinks. Who else would know that one sugar is not enough but two is too much? Who else would measure one and a half teaspoons and make sure it’s stirred in completely?

But the sadness still remains. You’re sad that he’s making the tea to try and cheer you up; sad that he’s used the last teabag and he’s going without a drink of his own. You’re sad that he’s sat here watching you cry one time too many.

It’s silent for a while. It’s clear he’s waiting for you to speak first but you’re not sure what to say. You feel like you’ve said everything a thousand times already, and the last thing you want is to be the broken record constantly spinning in the room.

You gulp down half of your tea before putting the mug back on the table. You turn to face Graham who scoots forward, eager to be there for you and ready to listen. He sits cross-legged, his sleeves rolled down to cover his hands with just his fingertips poking out. Your own fingers pick at a stray piece of thread hanging from the hem of your shirt, wrapping it around your forefinger then unwrapping it over and over. “I really really don’t like that place, Graham.” You whisper, part of you not wanting to hear your own admission. You’d fought hard for that job and were ashamed and embarrassed that it hadn’t gone the way you’d planned. Graham nods in understanding, moving closer to you to wrap an arm around you. He pulls you into him, your head resting on his shoulder as he rubs your back lovingly.

”I know, love.” He presses a kiss to your temple, your eyes fluttering closed at the feeling. Just having him beside you and feeling his touch is enough to calm the heavy beating of your heart and steady the shaking of your knees. “But hey, it’s Friday night which means tomorrow is Saturday. We have the entire weekend to do whatever we want! The entire weekend to not think about work for a single second.” He encourages, standing up and holding his hand out to you. “Come on.”

You reach over to grab your mug and quickly finish the rest of your drink. You grab a biscuit and bite half of it, feeding the other half to Graham. Crumbs fall from his mouth and he tries to catch them in his other hand but fails. You smile sadly, the kind that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, before taking his hand and letting him lead you to your bedroom. He sits you on the bed and grabs a fresh towel from the wardrobe. “First, let’s wash off the day, hmm?” He smiles and you nod in response. He leans over and kisses your forehead, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze before disappearing into the bathroom to run a bubble bath. He fills it with your favourite coconut-scented bubbles and fumbles around in his pocket to find his lighter to ignite the candle on the windowsill. It’s almost completely melted away, but he’s certain there’s enough there for it to stay lit for tonight.

He hangs the towel over the radiator to warm it up and tests the water before calling you in. You shiver as you shuffle past Graham, then lower yourself into the water. You hiss at the heat at first, but you’re soon submerged and used to it. You look over to Graham who’s knelt on the floor beside you. “Aren’t you getting in?” You ask, lying down and covering yourself with the bubbles. He shakes his head, rolling his sleeves up and pushing his glasses onto the top of his head.

“This is for you, love. You deserve to relax.” He reaches into the bath and strokes your shoulder softly. He spots a hair tie on the counter and grabs it, then stands and leans over to help tie your hair back. He scrunches it all together and ties it into a messy bun on the top of your head. It doesn’t look the best but it does the job. You look at him and smile, grabbing his arm and giving it a loving squeeze. In that moment, all you can think about is how lucky you are to have Graham. Even something as simple as him tying your hair up makes your heart swell. You wish you could stay in this room with him forever and never face any responsibilities.

You sit up to grab the soap but he beats you to it, the sponge in his other hand. “What did I say about relaxing?” He starts, eyebrows raised. “Let me.”

“Graham, you don’t have t - “

“I want to.” He cuts you off, dipping the sponge into the water and rubbing it together with the soap. You lie back down and he slowly starts to wash you, leaning over the bathtub to reach your legs. You watch as the water spills over the side a little and dampens his shirt but he doesn’t seem to mind. His fingertips lightly brush your thigh and you flinch as it tickles you. Graham laughs, doing it again on purpose until you’re practically kicking your feet like a paddling dog.

“Graham!” You squeal, grabbing his wrist and using all your strength to stop him. He splashes you in the face and you splash him back, just missing him as he ducks out of the way.

“You’re going to be the one cleaning that up later.” He jokes, gesturing to the small puddle behind him. You cover your mouth with your hand, laughing quietly as he shakes his head and continues his path up your body with the sponge. He’s gentle throughout, making sure not to scrub too harshly. You move so he can wash your back last, before he wrings out the sponge and places it back on the edge of the tub. “All clean.” He smiles, drying his hands on his jeans. You lie back, not wanting to get out just yet.

“Tell me about your day Graham, tell me something good.” You say, closing your eyes and letting the bubbles cover you again, or what’s left of them at least. He pushes his glasses back onto his face and ruffles his hair, sitting against the door with his legs stretched out in front of him.

“We rehearsed a couple songs today. We didn’t get through the whole setlist as Dave wasn’t feeling too well, and what can we do without the drummer, eh?” You keep your eyes closed as you listen to Graham talk. You could listen to him talk about music and the band for hours. You’re unbelievably proud of him and you know you’ll never get tired of hearing about every new song, music video or ridiculous lyric Damon has come out with. “Alex bought everyone lunch which was nice. Damon thought he’d broken something and was trying to butter us up or bribe us with the food!” He laughs, the sound so infectious that you can’t help but laugh with him.

“Was he bribing you?” You ask, opening your eyes and looking over at him. Butterflies dance inside your stomach as you admire Graham under the glaring white light above his head. Even in poor bathroom lighting he’s still the most beautiful person you’ve ever laid eyes on. His sleeves are still rolled up to his elbows and you can see little pen scribbles on one of his arms, most likely rushed notes from rehearsal. He never did allow himself the time to just find a piece of paper. His hair is sticking out a little at the front, probably from where his glasses were sitting previously. His cheeks are a rosy pink colour, as are yours, caused by the humidity in the room.

“Nope! He was just being nice.” He grins, standing to grab the towel from the radiator. He holds it out for you and you get up, quickly getting out and wrapping yourself in it. You mentally praise his genius for leaving it on the radiator, thankful for how warm it is. It’s exactly what you need, especially on a cold night in the middle of February.

He leads you back into the bedroom and runs over to close the window to keep you warm. “Alright, pyjamas or - “

”Can I have one of your shirts?” You interrupt, looking towards his set of drawers in the corner. “I don’t want the one you’re wearing, you’re all… soggy.”

He laughs at your choice of words before rummaging through his middle drawer to find the right shirt. He tosses it over to you and it’s one of your favourites; red, long-sleeved and fleecy on the inside. You slide it on with your usual stripy pyjama pants and let your hair down. Graham strips off and takes your laundry into the bathroom to put into the basket. Whilst there, he roughly dries the floor and blows out the candle. He then does a quick scan of the apartment to make sure everything is switched off and the door is locked properly before getting into bed with you.

It pours with rain outside but you love the sound against the windows. Graham hoists himself up against the bed frame and you lay your head on his chest, throwing your left arm over him. Both of your legs wrap around one of his and he keeps you close with his arm around your back. “So, what do you want to do tomorrow?” He asks, his hand drifting upwards to play with the ends of your hair.

“Can we go to Covent Garden and get cinnamon waffles and ice cream?” He chuckles at your response and the specificity of it.

“Ice cream in this weather?”

You nod, your hair tickling his bare chest. He pulls you in closer and adjusts the blanket so you’re covered properly. “Anything for you, sweetheart.” He kisses your head, and you sit up a little to face him. You stretch upwards to kiss him, his hand staying in your hair as he kisses back. You can still taste the sugar from the biscuits on his lips, and you smile into the kiss before lying back down and closing your eyes. You both whisper “I love you”s before you press one last kiss on his shoulder. Graham’s soft breathing coupled with the rain outside begins to lull you to sleep. He stays awake, stroking your hair and watching your feet fidget beneath the covers.

“You don’t have to go back to that job next week. I’ve got things covered until something else comes along.” He whispers, and you barely register his words as you hum in response and nuzzle your head into his chest. In that moment, everything feels OK and Graham knows that as long as you’re together and you have each other, that nothing can bring either of you down for too long. Once your breathing evens out, he closes his own eyes, but not without telling you how lucky he is beforehand. You’re not awake to hear it, but that doesn’t matter.

[redwhitebuddie]

So just finished and I want to say my critique is different because I fully was one of the people who thought this would be heart racing danger, so I expected big huge messy emotions. But right away I had to laugh because I think it was a deliberate directional choice to not make us afraid. Legit for any of of them. It was a story momentum for Probie, Hen and Eddie. So just saying once I realized Buck and Eddie were in actual control my perspective changed how I viewed it.

My heart legit broke for Eddie because he is going through something. A meeting of like his worlds/desires?? Because it was clear the whole story was to put Eddie with this Dad, I mean we never even got a reason why the other dude was helping him. I didn't even feel Boddy Athena intense energy. It was like the writers needed a situation and found the laziest way to make it happen. I'm not even mad at it just stating why I wasnt pissed at the lack of over dramatics.

Also Taylor has a motive I just dont totally get it yet. She is inadvertently coming after one of the 118 but the means and how I'm not sure. I saw a prior anon mention Athena so now I'm worried what footage she has of her. Honestly it could just be naming the Dad who knows, (that would be a huge portrayal to Eddie) but that damn is about to break.

Anyways if you ship Buddie this should have been a good episode IMHO because poor Eddie, something is brewing. He's clearly compartmentalizing feelings. I think we have a few interesting episodes after the Halloween one coming.

Also does anyone know why they switched them? Odd choice.

yeah I mean this is definitely the most buddie-coded episode so far in the season in my opinion. its more subtle, so you have to kind of analyze and dig but there was a lot of parallels comparisons to buck and eddie and the hostage guy.

i mean eddie is clearly going through something but we just don’t know what. im hoping that they touch on in the next couple of episodes. (my optimism tells me that he is finally accepting himself and his feelings towards buck and is having trouble compartmentalizing his feelings because he’s afraid that it would push it buck away and he doesn’t wanna do that to chris.)

and yeah i definitely think taylor is suspicious right now but I am going to keep an open mind because I’m trying to give her the benefit of the doubt even though she doesn’t really deserve it after what she did in season two.

and all we know about the episodes which was that some scenes from the halloween episode needed to be re-filmed but we don’t know if that’s the only reason or something else happened

i also am happy to see some advancement in the storyline for hen and chimney. i miss all of the characters in general and want to see where they’re taking their stories the season.

I am really tired and I have been answering asks all day so forgive me if this is a little bit of a half assed reply but thanks for analysis! i haven’t really seen many people talk about their explicit opinions about this episode so thank you

[ri-ahhh]

if you ever get in the mood to write anything take it back part two would be lovely😉 only if you’re okay with it of course

Y’all the sheer amount of requests I’ve gotten for this..🤯 Idk what exactly you want because it felt pretty complete to me but you win lol here it is.

take it back: pt. 2

***

He’s always an early riser. You love that about him. Productive and motivated almost to a fault, Grayson Dolan can always be counted on to answer his phone at the ripe time of 7:45 AM.

So when your 8:13 AM call goes to voicemail, your stomach drops.

Granted, it did ring all the way through; he could be sleeping, or working out, or...busy.

But he always manages to answer for you. Even if he’s huffing for breath in-between sets, or barely cognizant of where he is or what time it is after an afternoon nap, you can usually count on his deep voice to be on the other line of that phone.

You feel incredibly vulnerable and somehow more exposed than ever as you lie naked under your covers, just as you were when he left a few hours ago. A gaping part of you left in the open with his potential rejection. Just as you had probably done to him in the early hours of the morning.

Your heart joins your stomach, and you can’t stop yourself from typing out a text to cover yourself.

Did you make it home ok?

You toss your phone with a frustrated sigh to the side of the bed and draw your covers up to your nose. The empty space is vast and cold and makes your throat tighten.

Your phone buzzes, and you snatch it up. A snap from your best friend.

Instagram notifications.

A ‘good morning, have a good day’ text from your mom.

Another Snapchat. A work email. More texts from people who don’t have a little strong arm emoji next to their name.

You’re about to try and pull some sort of reverse psychology bullshit on yourself and go take a shower and pretend like you’re not going to expect a reply from him by the time you get out. But then, just as you’ve tossed your blankets and sheets aside, your phone buzzes fatefully.

[Gray💪🏼] Yeah, thanks

Ironically enough, it’s the worst reply you could have hoped for even though it’s the most logical one.

You bite your lip, chewing it worriedly as you continue your trip to the bathroom. Despite the fact that he responded completely appropriately, you don’t think you’re imagining the dryness in his two words. As stupid and ridiculous as it seems, you know Grayson well enough to detect that.

Good.

Are you busy today?

That’s safe enough. Your surge of bravery has dissipated since he clearly chose to ignore your call in favor of texting. You don’t want to scare him with anything as heavy and loaded as “can we talk?”

You lean against the counter and watch the bubbles pop up on the screen.

[Gray💪🏼] Nah not really. I’m tired tho

Fuck. The rejection before the offer hurts. Your eyes prickle stubbornly.

But then you look in the mirror, and your focus is drawn to a couple of distinct purple marks on your collarbone. You finger them delicately, and rather than the annoyance you might have felt with anyone else, your heart warms.

He’s broken yet another rule. And now, so are you — excited and pleased by the evidence of himself he’s left on your skin.

And you remember the thought that prompted this whole thing to begin with. You’re scared, but it’s worth it. He’s worth it.

Your fingers fly. Can I come over? Please?

He takes long enough to reply that your phone screen goes black, and another minute passes before you realize how idiotic you must look standing naked in your bathroom staring at a blank screen. This is the shit about relationships that you don’t like: the fear, the games, the unknowns. It’s almost too much already.

You distract yourself by turning on the shower and adjusting the temperature right where you want it. And when you turn back around, blood pounds in your ears when you see the lit screen through the reflection of the mirror.

[Gray💪🏼] Okay

***

If you’ve ever taken a quicker shower, you don’t remember when. You rinsed the night off for good, barely detangling any knots from your hair before instinctively reaching for one of his sweatshirts to pair with your jean shorts without even realizing it. It hits you as you throw on some eyebrow gel and mascara where your top came from, and you debate taking it off in case he’s upset with you.

You wouldn’t blame him if he were. The mixed signals you had thrown at him last night were inconsiderate to say the least. Blowing him off only to run right back into his arms, but with more clarity to be fair to yourself just a little bit.

You toss your lip gloss on the counter before you can do what you do best and overthink every aspect of this man, and head straight out the door.

When he lets you into his house half an hour later, he looks hesitant and drawn, but not unkind. Flushed fresh from a workout. Muscles glistening familiarly. Hair flopping into his face. It’s all incredibly distracting, but you push those thoughts aside as you smile at him sheepishly and pass through the open door.

“What’s up?” he asks once he’s led you into the kitchen.

You sit on a barstool and chew a piece of skin around your thumbnail as he watches you out of the corner of his eye while he chugs from his hydroflask. His Adam’s apple bobs with each swallow, and you look away for a moment to gather your nerve.

“I wanted to...talk,” you manage to spit out. You take your thumb out of your mouth in favor of playing with a leaf that had fallen from the flower vase in front of you. You can’t meet his eyes right now.

There’s a silence long enough that it makes you finally look up at him. He’s staring at you, brow cocked slightly, arms crossed across his broad chest.

“Okay. About what?”

You stare back. His handsome face gives you the confidence and courage to keep going.

“I’m bad at this,” you admit. The leaf crumples in your fingertips. “Talking. Relationships. All of it.”

“I know. So am I.”

You smile, small but grateful. He returns it.

“I told you to take it back. That kiss you gave me, before you left.”

Grayson’s cheeks, having returned to a normal hue in the AC, then pink again. He glances off to the side and clears his throat, a hand running through his messy hair. “Uh, yeah. I remember.”

Your heart disintegrates as much as the leaf in your grasp at the visible proof that you had, indeed, hurt him on some level. But you’re here to make it right. For both of you. In whatever ass-backwards way you can think of to make that happen, because you definitely haven’t thought the words out at all.

“Well... I want — I take it back,” you admit quietly.

The fear and frustration are all worth it when you see the utter look of surprise cross his features. His eyes are grey this morning, one of their many colors and your personal favorite, and they widen almost comically. His pretty pink lips part slightly, his fist clenching on the counter for a brief moment.

But then he has a few seconds to process your confession, and your heart skips a beat when you see the corner of his mouth turn up enough to expose a dimple. “You take back your ‘take it back?’”

You bite your lip through your own smile as his grows wider, and you nod. “Yeah. I do.”

“Why?”

You hadn’t expected that. But shockingly, it’s the easiest part of this whole ordeal.

You reach your hand out and wrap your slim fingers around his thick, calloused ones, gripping them tightly. “Because. You’re you. And I’m happiest when you’re around, no matter what activity we may or may not be doing.”

He laughs, and you tug on his hand to indicate you want him to join you without a slab of marble separating the two of you.

“And because you’re the only person I could ever imagine breaking all of my rules for. And if you can forgive me for being such a hardheaded idiot, I’d really like to prove that to you.”

Now directly in front of you, Grayson towers above you. He grins and lets go of your hand to wrap your arms around his waist, then cups your cheeks in both hands. You close your eyes and you sigh at the feel of those giant palms holding you so tenderly, and the urge to run doesn’t affect you even the tiniest bit.

He leans down, until you feel him stop just centimeters from meeting your lips with his. Your lashes flutter open confusedly, only to see those eyes looking at you with an affectionate expression you’ve never let yourself consider too deeply until now.

“If you really want to take back your take it back,” he whispers, his breath fanning against your sensitive lips and making you shiver, “then come and get it.”

Your whole body heats at his words, and you giggle before throwing yourself completely into his arms and crushing your lips together. He chuckles too against your mouth, and shifts his hands under your ass so you can wrap your legs around his waist, your kiss heated and sincere but also playful.

“Can I take all of you back?” you ask him once you’ve pulled away for a moment, playing with the hair at the base of his neck.

You’re so caught up in his face that you’re unaware that he’s moving the two of you down the hall until his bedroom door shuts quickly behind him with his swift kick.

“All of me, baby. All of me.”

[an-annyeoing-writer]

Chanyeol x Reader: a day from humble slave’s life. [+18]

Word count: ~5k 

Warnings: s*xual themes, slavery, objectification, minor fat shaming. Please, don’t mistake this with non-con, for it’s not, but if you feel like an impression may trigger you too, simply don’t read it.

This is a fantasy. As much as I tried to portray Chanyeol’s personality accordingly, it has little to do with how I see him as a person, and - especially - with who he really is. Nonetheless, this is NOT meant to insult anyone.

The story was originally a birthday gift for my friend, and therefore, Reader’s age is specified and it’s also mentioned to be her birthday - forgive me that ^_^

7 A.M.

Even before your eyes open, the first streak of consciousness is how you welcome the world.

It’s not going to be a good morning, you think at first; your eyes are sticky as soon as you try to pry them open, your muscles ache, your hair is a mess. How disgraceful, you think. You can’t show yourself to the world like this. Thank God for the attached bathroom.

Look pretty, you were once told, that’s all you can do well.

The words, back then, didn’t sound half as appreciative as you considered them now. But with time, they became a motto, a goal, a purpose. They did say that you’re not good for anything else, but they also said you’re good at this one thing.

Look pretty for the one who deserves it. Whatever your Owner shall want to do with your body, you shall obey.

And if He doesn’t say anything, if He doesn’t even look at you, living His life as if you didn’t exist, then the least you can do is be pretty as to not offend Him: you owe Him your best quality, after all.

The shower is over, the make-up done, the clothes, selected carefully, wrapped around your silhouette as to expose what’s the best in it. The corset is so tight it hurts. But it’s worth it if that’s what He wants.

Off to eat a breakfast. The corset’s gonna get even worse after you eat, but that’s also the price you agree to pay. Eat, to stay healthy: not stuff yourself, not pleasure yourself with sweets. Eat to stay healthy and not cause Him any problems, so that your body stays in the best shape. He expects no less.

He’s there, you realize with surprise. He doesn’t stay around too often and usually doesn’t eat the breakfast at home. But He’s there, sitting in the dining room. Someone is serving Him a breakfast: one of many others, men and women, that He owns. They’re useful, you think. They can cook, they can keep the house clean.

All you can do, is to look pretty.

So you bow deeply as soon as you see Him, and when His gaze finally meets yours, you kneel on the floor next to the door, eyes on the ground as to not annoy Him, letting Him enjoy the sight of what He owns. It probably looks weird, you think, a woman kneeling on the floor with other people around, not an intimate situation at all – she’s not His lover, after all, just a property.

You don’t know if He looks at you, but your posture is perfect as if He did.

When He stands up and goes to the door, you dare not to look up.

When He’s right next to you, His fingers find your lips and put a small chocolate on your tongue, a token of approval; the chocolate is so, so good that you melt in its taste, and you take as much of it as you can, playing with it in your mouth long after He leaves without a word.

*

10 A.M.

Everyone knows, more or less, what’s His job: the exact crimes remain unknown, though, and His secrets stay safe: no one in the house would ever dare to spread them around. And it’s not like it’d be easy to do, either – only some of you are allowed to leave the house in the first place, and you’re not one of these. There’s no reason for you to leave, anyway, since everything you’d need: cosmetics, clothes – there’s nothing more you’d need, right? – other people only give you, and you’re given the exact things that suit His taste, no room for you to do wrong. There’s no reason to give Him surprises, either: you’re like a product, a window’s curtains that are changed to their owner’s liking, not picked randomly in a shop, but chosen by what he likes and what suits the rest of the house.

Your dress now is made of the same purple fabric as sofas in the living room when you’re called over and enter the spacious room with huge windows; a few familiar faces sit in various places all around – not your friends by any means, but people you just saw here before.

“Are you, for real?” one of them says. Your Owner laughs in response.

“See for yourself, Xing” He answers and motions you over.

A small movement of His fingers, a signal you’ve been taught long ago.

On your knees, it says, and you instantly catch the cue, a bit nervous at first, glancing at the stranger’s face just to make sure he’s alright with it: out of pure politeness, because you know that even if he didn’t like it, you’d still do it – it’s not him you’re here to obey, after all.

You don’t ask questions as you unzip his jeans, all the modesty gone as your lips wrap around his cock, as casually as it’d be to hand him a glass of water, no objections: you’re so good, so obedient.

You glance to your side with your eyes slightly blurry from tears. You see an amused, but content smile on your Owner’s face and that’s all the motivation you need to grow bolder, to suck harder. Your throat is not so good just yet, it still needs to get better, you realize, and you choke yourself on the man’s length, punishing yourself for not being good enough. It amuses them. You feel their eyes on you, a quiet sound of someone taking a photo, tears run down your face, your makeup smudged, your hair messy from where the man grabbed it, holding onto it as he set a righter pace for you to follow.

When he cums, you hold still. You swallow what you’re given.

“Thank you, sir” you say in a rough voice, your throat strained. The man smiles at you kindly, and you can’t help but smile back.

You know better than to ignore your Owner any longer though, and you turn to face Him, still on your knees of course, eyes on His shoes.

“Look at me” He instructs. You obey.

He stares at you with a smirk.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, sir” you reply honestly.

“You can go. Don’t interrupt us.”

Your duty is fulfilled. It feels so good to be useful.

*

1 P.M.

You’ve been sitting in your bathtub for what feels like hours, but it’s okay, it feels good, the water stays warm, your bathroom is so luxurious you can’t help but savor every minute of having access to it: not owning it, of course, but it’s nice nonetheless.

Everything in this room belongs to Him: the tub with heating system, the thick walls, the expensive cosmetics and the softest towels, and, of course, you.

How much do you love to be owned? He asked you once: do you like where you are, what you are?

Yes, sir.

Don’t you just say that to please me?

I mean it, sir.

Do you, really? Come here, then. Show me how grateful you are. Let your mouth convince me, but not with words.

It felt intimate, to be allowed so close to the one you looked up to. Being allowed to please Him was a blessing, and you wished you’d do it more often, but never dared to ask: you’re too low to demand His attention, so even if He was to say no, it’d be a waste of His precious time to consider your plea in the first place.

So instead, you savored every moment He allowed you, as much as you savored the memory of His small groans, the way He relaxed under your fingers, leaning back in His armchair and not even looking at you, but clearly enjoying this little paradise His humble slave served Him. Oh, how well He trained you, you know just what to do to make Him feel good. He deserves the best of you for He’s the one who gave it to you in the first place.

The memory sends a pleasant tingling down to your core and your fingers instinctively reach down, willing to relieve yourself.

But you stop yourself halfway.

You’re not meant for receiving pleasure, stupid, you remind yourself. There’s a smile on your lips at the thought. You’re good, you won’t do this, it’s not something He’d enjoy knowing of, and therefore there’s no reason to do it.

You choose to stay desperate and you’re proud of this choice.

There’s knocking on your room’s door.

“[F/n]? You’ve been sitting there for ages. Come out, I have something for you!”

“Ah, five minutes!” you call back.

“I’ll wait, then!”

You choose to rest just a little bit longer. She can wait, you decide. The water is just too warm.

*

1:30 P.M.

“Seriously, I thought you died in there” are the first words you hear upon leaving the bathroom. Your friend seems annoyed and it’s, truthfully, justified. But then her face brightens up. “Ah, look, I’ve got something good!”

She has boxes with various types of food sprawled over your bed, variety of tastes, mostly healthy, but some sweets as well, and these are mainly things you haven’t tasted in ages since you didn’t really consider yourself worthy of such luxury.

But then, you haven’t seen her lately, you missed her: she always brings something good to share, either be it food or jewelry you can wear for some time before returning it. These are little breaks in your routine, small pieces of something different than you usually experience. It’s good to recall how usual, human life looks like, even if you’re back to your own usual self soon later.

You notice a new, leather collar wrapped around her neck. You feel like you’d look good in one if you had it, too. Your Owner just never thought of idea as such, but who knows, maybe He’ll see her and decide it’s a good one? You can always hope for it.

“What’s that?” you ask, picking a random box. It smells good, sea-like.

“I have completely no idea, but it tastes good” she replies, stuffing her face with some vegetables she holds with sticks. You learned already that as much as she likes food, she never uses her brain to memorize any dish names. It’s not like she has too much brain to begin with, so who cares, anyway. She’s not a cook, but a slave like you, a different kind, but just as devoted and happy with her place. “Ah, try this.” She fetches some sort of candy and puts it by your lips, reminding you briefly of what happened this morning. You take the candy, it melts in your mouth almost instantly.

A few seconds later, her lips are on yours instead, and you taste the pepper with cinnamon she just ate; it’s a strange connection, but it tastes good, and, somehow, it suits the candy’s flavor still present on your tongue.

You feel stiff at first, but quickly melt into the sensation. You weren’t caressed like this in ages, your mouth has only one purpose on daily basis; it feels nice. Her hand is soon on your breast, squeezing it through the thin fabric of your silk bathrobe. She doesn’t wait long before pushing the fabric off you, your fresh and clean body, exposed to the air, getting still hotter with every passing second.

The door creaks and you two finally part; your eyes are on the man that stands in the door frame, his eyebrows raised at your friend as she lets out an awkward laugh.

He rolls his eyes, only half-amused with what he just saw.

“We’re going home” he says sternly. Then, without bidding you a good-bye, she gets off the bed and runs to him, and soon, you’re left alone. You didn’t even notice that your robe was off all this time.

But at least you get to keep the food, right?

*

5 P.M.

“Why aren’t you eating?”

He doesn’t invite you over for dinner often, so you try to enjoy it as much as possible. Yet, your stomach is still full – it wasn’t a wise choice to eat that much at once. You feel like you will blow up if you eat a gram more of the pork in front of you.

“I’m sorry, I’m not hungry, I ate earlier” you explain yourself. It’s not a reply that satisfies Him, but He doesn’t pry, and you hope that He will just brush it off.

“Eat.”

You don’t object, you know you can’t. Your stomach is so full you want to throw up. You take a bit of the pork and slowly munch on the meat, hoping that it’ll become more bearable with time. You don’t want to stretch your stomach like this, you’ll feel hungry more often, and what will He say if you gain weight?

You have to endure.

“What did you eat?” He asks.

“Quinoa with vegetables, fish, oats with milk, candy” you answer truthfully. There were some other funny combinations that you consumed, but you decide these are the essentials.

“Hmm, that sounds like a lot. What if you get fat?” He asks calmly.

“I, uh… I don’t think it’s possible if it’s just one time” you try to state so as humbly as possible, but you feel like no matter what you said, it wouldn’t sound good. Maybe you should have apologized instead? Asked Him to be merciful?

“Are you trying to argue with me?”

“No, sir” you answer instantly, your face showing fear at the thought; you wouldn’t dare, no, never. He seems to see it, the way you shiver at the accusation, and He smiles. You’re relieved. You know that He may punish you, that He may use it as opportunity to give you pain, and even tell you that you deserve it – to not feel bad about doing it to you. However, knowing that it’ll give Him satisfaction, that He won’t do it because He’s authentically mad at you, but just wants to play with His toy, is what makes you happy and excited for what’s to come.

For now, at least.

“I thought so” He just says and goes back to His meal.

Just as He told you to, you continue to eat your portion, trying to stuff yourself as much as possible, knowing that your stomach will hurt even more, and thanking God for not wearing the corset any longer.

“On your knees” He suddenly says when you’re almost done. You don’t object, you do as you’re told. “Crawl there” He motions you to sit nearby, not too close to him, off the rug and on the cold panels, hard under your knees.

He leans chin on His hand, watching you, almost bored.

“Make yourself vomit.”

You swallow your saliva nervously and glance up at Him, hoping that He’s just joking, testing your reactions. His face doesn’t change though, and, as you hesitate, His eyebrows raise in doubt. Will you do it? Will you humiliate yourself as a punishment? Will you ruin yourself once again, not through sex, but through being genuinely disgusting in front of Him?

Will He even like it? How could He enjoy such sight? Won’t He feel sick, since He barely just ate? Is it really what He wants?

“What are you waiting for? Did you not understand me? Or should I go over there and push my own fingers down your throat? That’d be so gross. You don’t want me to dirty my hands, do you?”

You quickly shake your head. Of course, no, He doesn’t need to do something that disgusting. You’ll do it, you can do it.

You push your fingers into your throat until you feel the food go back, and you close your eyes tightly, throwing up all over the floor, sensing it dirty your legs, but refusing to look at it. It feels disgusting, painful, the acidic sensation in your mouth making you want to throw up again.

“Look at me.”

You obey. Your face is still twisted in disgust and He watches you, almost unmoved with the scene that just unfolded.

“Gross. Wash the floor, and yourself. Can’t keep it clean today, can you?” He snorts. “I’m not hungry anymore” He announces suddenly, then stands up and exits the room, leaving you on your knees among your own vomit, allowing you to dwell on your pathetic, miserable self.

You sit there, breathing heavily for what feels like an hour at least.

Then you stand up, still dirty, and still disgusting, probably stinking, too.

And for some reason, it feels good, because you just did what He told you to, and there’s nothing more fulfilling than listening to your Owner’s commands, no matter how destructive and unpleasant would they be, and how unwanted and unattractive they would make you seem.

*

8 P.M.

You lie in your bed, exhausted. Your skin feels dry from all the washing today, especially since you spent so long in the tub earlier. You have your thin robe back on, and your eyes are getting sticky from how tired you are, so you close them and let your body relax. That’s so good, that’s so comfortable.

You don’t know how long you lie there, drifting off despite the early hour, before something rouses you out of the blissful state. You open your eyes and look around: the room is empty, lamps still off, but some of the street light entering through the windows allows you to see the surroundings rather clearly, especially since your eyes already accustomed with the darkness.

And said surroundings are quiet and empty, but your instinct tells you that you should get up just because, and you choose to listen to it: you’re not that tired anymore, you got a bit of rest and this day is far from over.

You stand up and turn on the lamp on your bedside table, its soft light brightening up the whole room, although not too intensely.

The door suddenly opens and a woman speaks to you from the corridor.

“Master wants to see you. Go to his room. Hurry.”

With that, she leaves, and you’re dumbstruck for a few seconds. You quickly realize your mistake: it’s not the time for you to be slow or hesitate. Whatever He wants, you’re here to deliver. It surprises you, though, He never makes requests like such. You wish to know if you should change into something more elegant, more suitable, just in case He’s not alone – the bathing robe exposes a bit too much and you’re worried that He wouldn’t appreciate it right now. Yes, more precise instructions would be appreciated.

But with what you’ve got, all you know is that you should hurry. You don’t take nor change anything, then, only making sure your hair looks presentable – the makeup is already gone, but it will have to stay this way – you fix the belt of your robe, too, not wanting it to slip by accident since you have nothing underneath.

You get up and go. You know where to go, although His room and yours are a few corridors apart – the mansion is big and you need to pass through all the most important places to get there, including the door to one of the living rooms and other servants’ bedrooms.

You knock on the door after a short hesitation: not too quiet, not too loud – it’s hard to measure, you rarely ever knock on any door, not to mention the door to His very bedroom.

“Come in.”

You open the door.

The bedroom is not that much larger than yours, but it seems more personal – there are souvenirs, ornaments, belongings that you don’t get to own, things that prove He owns this place.

And then He’s there: in sweatpants and nothing else, droplets of water randomly running down His back where He didn’t dry them with a towel, or where they slipped from His wet hair. You don’t get to enjoy the sight for long though, because He grabs a shirt and pulls it over His head, and you lower your gaze, realizing that staring probably wouldn’t be approved.

“Bend over the table” He instructs, still not looking at you. He walks around the room and enters the attached bathroom, doing all these small evening things: skincare routine, perfumes that seem to help Him sleep and so on. You stand where you were told to, trying to stop yourself from peeking curiously; it takes Him a few minutes of completely ignoring your presence before He finally sighs and turns to you.

He stands behind you, out of your sight. There’s a silence for a few moments before He suddenly pulls on your robe and throws its lower part over your upper back, exposing your behind. His hand pushes on your shoulder, forcing you lower, pressing you against the table’s surface. You don’t flinch.

“Spread your ass” He says, and you obediently move your hands to your cheeks; it feels awkward at first, the air hitting your most private parts, although you know already, there’s no private, and all of you belongs to Him only, all of you is for Him to see, judge and use. “More.”

It almost hurts and you wish you knew what exactly He sees back there; but you don’t. He doesn’t touch you, and a part of you wishes He did – you crave His touch, but you’re aware of your place, you learned to act accordingly.

You jump slightly when He unceremoniously pries your pussy open with His fingers, your hands tremble slightly – it feels so good, His fingers feel so good you could come just from feeling them on you, no matter where, really.

“I heard it’s your birthday today” He says suddenly. His two fingers dive into you and you struggle to keep your composure; your thoughts fly away before you manage to form them into an answer. He pulls His fingers out, spreading your apparent wetness all over your folds. “Is it true?” The touch disappears for a moment and you finally get a chance to breathe.

“Y-yes, sir” you force out.

“I see.”

His fingers are back there, rubbing you slowly a few times, as if checking for any deformations – of course there are none, but He checks nonetheless.

“What’s your age now?” He asks. You wonder if He really doesn’t know, it’s not like He has a reason to care.

“T-twenty one” you mumble in a strained voice.

“Twenty one. In centimeters, that’s how high heels you can only wear from tomorrow on, understood?”

“Y… Yes, sir.”

His hand must be stained with natural lubricant, you realize, as He moves it higher, smoothly pushing one finger into your ass. It’s a miracle you manage to stay still. He doesn’t dwell much on that place though; instead, He pulls out and neatly puts the robe back into place.

“Up and face me.”

Sometimes, you wish to be roughed up – to have your hair pulled roughly, to be manhandled. But He never does that. You know your place. His word is enough to make you do whatever He wants, so why be rough? He’d get unnecessarily tired, and you’re not worth of His sweat, are you?

You stand in front of Him, eyes down, His breath on top of your head, you almost feel His body warmth – you didn’t notice He’s so close, but He is, if you just reached out…

He doesn’t hesitate before pushing the robe open, exposing your front. His hand wraps around one of your breasts, squeezing it so hard and so suddenly you almost scream, your knees trembling. You force yourself to stand straight, but God, does it hurt. He pinches your nipple, no gentler, but at least doesn’t keep it for so long. He does the same on the other side, and you swear you’ll have them all purple tomorrow, and it lasted less than a minute. They hurt so much.

As soon as He loses interest in your breasts, you wrap your arms around your chest, trying to soothe it. His hand moves to your chin instead, forcing it up.

“Open” is all He says and you obey. “Wider.” You try to, but it’s not enough. Pushing fingers into your mouth, He pushes your jaws even further, to the point it hurts and you feel like it will soon break. But you don’t object. He pulls on your tongue – it’s hard not to pull back. You gag as He pushes His fingers deep, but – thank God – takes them out before you can repeat your act from earlier.

You pant when He finally retreats and the contact breaks.

“When was the last time you came?” He asks as soon as He decides you’re in the state to provide an answer.

“T… three weeks ago, sir” you mumble.

“That’s not too long ago, is it?”

“Not too long…” You whimper slightly, confirming.

He doesn’t really hold you accountable of this on usual – only when He, for some reason, feels like making you a bit more desperate, a bit more pathetic. But it’s not something that happens often. On most days, He doesn’t even care for your presence, so even if He – or anyone else He approved of – decided, on rare occasions, to use your pussy for a change, He couldn’t care less if you came, as long as you didn’t make His own experience any worse.

But then sometimes, just sometimes, He wanted to see you struggle.

“What’s the longest you went for?”

“A-a month, sir…”

“Well then, what about we make it two?”

You gulp.

“If you wish so, sir…”

“But that’s starting from tomorrow. You will come today.”

Your eyes snap up at Him as He turns around and sits back on His bed, crossing His legs leisurely. You don’t dare to move from your spot – a good choice.

“Kneel down and touch yourself. Leave the robe on, but don’t cover yourself.”

He watches you with a small smirk as you get down. Your pussy is already exposed; you spread your legs as far as you can and lean slightly forward on one hand, the other finding the most aching spots.

Your Owner watches as you start to rub yourself – and you’re shook about how little it takes for you to find yourself on edge.

“Stop.”

You press your lips together, holding back a whine that tries to push through your lips. It hurts, you wish you could just make yourself come, you’re so needy, so starved for it, it’s been so long…

“Give me your robe.”

You don’t ask. You take the fabric off, fold it neatly and stand up, head low, reaching out with your both hands. The man takes it without care, throwing it onto the floor, far from you.

“Go to your room now.”

“Yes, sir…”

You glance briefly at the clock on the wall – it’s almost nine. And you only wonder, how many people will you pass by, going through the cold corridors, with your pussy leaking and your breasts slowly turning blue.

*

11:49 P.M.

You’re asleep when the door opens again – the sound waking you up slowly, your sleepy movements incoherent as you try to turn the light on. You stop though, as, in the darkness slowly dissolving in front of your eyes, you recognize the silhouette that just welcomed you. Your hazy mind doesn’t proceed it fully though, yet, and you don’t know, what would be the right way to react – stand up? Kneel down? Out of no cue, you stay where you are, watching with wide eyes as the man approaches your bed and sits on the mattress.

His hand finds the edge of your sheets and pulls them away from your naked frame – you often slept naked, and now that he rid you off your usual evening attire, it feels like an even righter thing to do.

“S… sir…?”

“Don’t move. Don’t talk.”

You stay in your place, your eyes following every movement, and when his hand cups your sex, your breath hitches and you struggle to stay still – of course you struggle; you want to grind down, to prove how needy you are, like a bitch in heat.

But he said, don’t move. So you don’t.

He spreads your legs a bit and teases you, stretching your entrance a little just for the sake of his entertainment, like most of the things he does to you, anyway. But then he suddenly stops and starts to gently rub your clit. You press your lips together. It feels so good, so hot, you wish you could moan, scream for him.

But he said, don’t talk. So you don’t.

His other hand is soon on your hair and he pulls you up, not too gently, but not unnecessarily roughly either. His face is so close, his eyes boring into yours. What did you ever do, to deserve a proximity like this? To deserve that much attention? To deserve his hand pleasing you so well, so good?

Nothing, is the answer. You’re not worthy of it, yet he gives it to you: how generous of him, isn’t it? To be touching the filthy animal you are. He’s so good. He feels so good, and you struggle even more, trying to keep yourself together and hold back for the sake of feeling it just a little longer.

“You may come, if you want.”

“Sh… should I?”

He smirks.

“Do you want to?”

You hesitate, a second too long.

His hand disappears and you’re left panting, writhing, squeezing your legs together for friction, but feeling as though nothing can satiate you as well as his fingers did, and you finally let out a cry. How vulnerable.

When you come back to your senses, you feel his eyes on you and quickly return the gaze – you don’t want him to think you’re ignoring him, never. You may have lost your mind for a few moments, but it’s back there – figuratively, for you’re just a dumb whore, there’s no much mind left in you.

“I told you, that you will come today, but you didn’t listen.” You quickly glance at the clock – it’s 00:02. Oh, God. Oh, no. “And now that your birthday is over, I don’t need to hold back, do I?”

You want to say that he shouldn’t hold back regardless of the day, but you soon realize it probably wouldn’t be in your best favor.

And that he doesn’t really need your approval.

Please, reblog if you enjoyed!

[lokisfans]

Butterflies

Summary: You dread going to a party because Loki, the captivating God of Mischief will be there, and your feelings for him make you a bit clumsy and awkward.

Pairing: Loki x reader

Word Count: 1,429

Warnings: Mild swearing

A/N: it’s been awhile! My apologies and I hope you all like this one. <3

You stared up at the ceiling, dread overwhelming your entire body. It had finally arrived, the day of Thor’s birthday party. It wasn’t that you didn’t care about Thor, he was one of your closest friends, but you weren’t looking forward to seeing his raven-haired brother. It wasn’t that Loki made you uncomfortable, it was just that your more-than-just-a-friend feelings towards him made you act a bit awkward in his presence.

It had surprised you that there was going to be a party in the first place, as most Asgardians didn’t tend to celebrate birthdays, but then again, any reason to have a party was a good enough one for Thor.

Finally mustering the strength to drag yourself out of bed, you made your way to your closet to try and find a suitable gown to wear to the festivities. The party wasn’t for a while, but you had always been meticulous when planning things out.

After going through your wardrobe for what seemed like ages, you settled on a blue gown with gold jewelry and hair accessories. You strangely found yourself wanting to look nice, not bothering to wonder about what the obvious motive was for this.

………....

When it was finally time for the festivities to begin you made sure to get ready early, wanting to perfect every detail of your look. The flowing, blue gown gave you shape but also allowed you to breathe, and the golden leaves in your hair were the perfect touch, along with your necklace and earrings.

You walked into the Grand Hall, where everyone was enjoying food and talking. There was dancing in the ballroom but you doubted you’d have the courage for it.

A few moments after your arrival Thor walked up to you and clapped you on the back.

“Lady Y/N, I’m so pleased to see you, especially off the battlefield for once!”

You, Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three had been fighting together since you were children. Loki joined sometimes, although he tended to be a bit of a loner.

“You too, I’m honored to be invited to such a small gathering,” you replied, smiling and glancing around at the many people filling the room.  

Thor snorted in amusement and said, “well, father and I didn’t want anyone to feel left out, you know how it is.”

“Oh yes.”

“Well, I’d better go greet some more guests, we’ll catch up later. Enjoy the party!” said Thor, walking off towards some new arrivals.

You watched him go, wondering who you should talk to now. You couldn’t see Sif or the others anywhere around you.

Eventually, you wandered over to the food, getting a beverage from one of the servants. You turned around to leave and slammed into the chest of the God of Mischief himself, spilling your drink all over him.

“Oh, Loki, I mean Prince Loki, I’m so sorry!” you said, extremely flustered, “Let me help.” You grabbed a large wad of napkins off the table and tried to dry the front of his suit. It really only succeeded in smearing the liquid around more.

“Dammit,” you said. Your cheeks were hot with embarrassment. Why did things like this always happen around him? Suddenly you made eye contact with him and realized he was smiling. “Wha-...” you trailed off, confused at his reaction. You had assumed he would be angry, but his amused expression said otherwise.

“No need to be so distraught,” he said after a moment, “I don’t think you’d sabotage my suit Lady Y/N.”

“I know but it was rather stupid and clumsy of me.”

“That may be slightly true, but I’m willing to forgive and forget.”

Did he just agree with me?

You stood, a bit shocked. He had never really spoken to you like this before. All of your conversations had been brief, and certainly not this friendly.

“Well,” you finally said, “sorry... again.”

There was still amusement in his eyes.

He probably thinks I’m ridiculous. He’d be right, but I was still hoping that he might respect me slightly.

“Come with me,” he suddenly said, walking swiftly away.

You followed after him, overwhelmed by confusion and struggling to move through the crowd of people.

Once you were in the hallway you spoke. “Um, where exactly are we going?”

“To get a new suit obviously. I can’t look messy on my brother’s big night,” Loki replied, his tone mischievous.

What have I gotten myself into?

Once you and Loki reached his chambers he disappeared through the door. You stood in the hall.

“You can come in Lady Y/N,” he said from inside.

You stepped hesitantly into his room. It was large, but without much furniture, the most noticeable being a beautiful bookshelf, without an empty space on it. You walked slowly towards it. As you passed Loki’s closet, the door was slightly ajar and you glanced at his shirtless back, the sight making your face hot and butterflies form in your stomach.

Once you finally tore your gaze away and reached the bookshelf, you surveyed the large collection. It was quite impressive. Suddenly, a voice behind you asked, “Do you like to read?”

You turned around quickly, meeting Loki’s gaze. “Um, yes. Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“You weren’t. I rarely find anyone other than my mother who can fight and enjoys literature.”

“We’re a rare breed then,” you said, becoming more comfortable being in his presence.

Your reply earned a small smile from Loki.

“Sorry I made you come with me,” he said, “I was mostly just trying to scare you a bit because you seemed so flustered. I had no idea you were so tolerable.”

“I can’t believe you. Actually, I take that back, I can. Also, tolerable, really? What a wonderful compliment to receive.” You were impressed with your sudden boldness.

“I don’t just pass out praise”

“Well, I’m glad to be one of the few receivers, even if it’s a bit lame,” you replied, crossing your arms and smiling.  

Loki smirked for a moment and then said, “Since you might even be slightly above tolerable, would you like to see something?”

“As long as it’s not another dead body, because I see those way too frequently these days.”

“You’re rather odd, and it’s not.”

You followed Loki onto the balcony outside his room and watched as he climbed onto the railing closest to the wall.

“Oh Odin’s beard please don’t fucking fall,” you said, sucking in a breath.

“It’s fine, I’ve done this before, and you do not seem to have a lady’s mouth,” said Loki, his blue eyes glinting with amusement.

He then proceeded to use the thick vines creeping up the wall to hoist himself onto the roof. After a moment he stuck out his hand to you.

This certainly wasn’t how you had imagined your night going, but here you were, climbing onto the castle roof with the God of Mischief.

You stepped onto the railing and hoisted yourself up, using the vines and ignoring Loki’s outstretched hand.

“I am not just a lady, but a warrior,” you said when he looked slightly impressed.

“I’ve seen you in battle, but you haven’t proven to be particularly... graceful this evening,” he said, grinning mischievously.

You elbowed his arm playfully. “For your information, when I’m in battle I’m in my element. Things are different when-” You stopped cold. Oops.

“When what?” Loki was smirking.

“When... I’m at social events.”

“Mhm, sure.”

“Okay, okay, and also when I happen to be in the presence of reclusive, annoyingly attractive, and unexpectedly charming Gods,” you said, quite embarrassed at this point, but also impressed at your own bravery. This definitely wasn’t the way you had expected the night to end.

Loki was grinning. “Well, you know, I don’t bring just anyone on the roof to gaze at the stars,” he said, glancing up. The sky was beautiful and the stars sparkled like thousands of crystals.

Loki looked over at you. Your faces were centimeters apart.

“It’s hard for me to resist when clumsy, odd, but stunning individuals spill wine on me, even though this wasn’t the first time I had noticed them,” said Loki, surprising you.

He’s always noticed me like I notice him?

Suddenly you were kissing, passionately. He softly bit your lower lip and then you felt his tongue enter your mouth.

When the kiss ended you stared at him, taking in his beauty. This certainly wasn’t how you had thought things would go, but maybe your clumsiness was your new best friend.

[drethanramslay]

26, 58 and 61 for ethan x mc please? like angst in the beginning but fluff in the end. thanks!! i love your fanfics btw i read it like 100 times and i can’t seem to get over it.

Aww thanks anon ☺️ and thank you for the ask ❤️❤️

You can find the prompt list here.

#26-“Are you angry…?”

#58-“Where have you been?!” 

#61-“I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have done that, you can look after yourself…I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry.” this prompt is in the form of a text message 

Author's note: okay anon I know you wanted a fluffy ending BUT, I decided to write it as a continuation to Hard for me i.e the prompt in which people demanded asked for a part 2

So forgive me for the ending

Word count: 1.2K

Warning: none, it's just angsty as hell

Cry for me

The next one week was painful. 

Ethan's confession in the lift had left Leah in a flux of emotions. On one hand she was joyous that he returned her feelings and that he was all in.

But on the other hand she felt gut wrenching guilt which slowly started eating away at her sanity. She was in a relationship with Bryce. She had a freaking boyfriend but that still didn't stop her from pining for Ethan.

She was so lost in her thoughts half the times, zoning in and out of conversations. Bryce could see something bothering her so he slowly formulating a plan to cheer her up.

"Hey Princess?" Bryce asked as they drove to the hospital.

Leah snapped her head towards Bryce. "Yeah?"

“Are you angry…? Did I do something wrong?"

"Of course not, queen B!" I am angry with myself and the world.

"I just... Can't see you so down and lost. You know you can talk to me, right?"

I don't think I can talk about how I am completely and utterly in love with my boss and the fact that he returns the sentiments.

"Yap I know. It's just been a stressful week, y'know?"

"What if we have a movie night today?  We can eat junk food and laugh on trashy movies?" Bryce spoke up as they got out of the car.

"That's exactly the thing I need. Thank you Bryce." Leah smiled at him and wrapped her arm around his waist, giving him a side hug.

Bryce gave her a breathtaking smile and wrapped his arms around her. "Anything for you Leah."

As they stood there, with their arms around each other in the parking lot, Leah failed to notice a pair of stormy blue eyes burning into her back.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------- After changing into her scrubs and grabbing a coffee from the coffee cart, Leah made her way towards Ethan's office. June and Baz were sitting and drinking coffee, pouring over the charts while Ethan wrote on the whiteboard.

"Good morning team." Leah greeted them with a smile.

"Good morning, Leah!"

"Good morning, Dr. Garcia."

"You are late. Where have you been?"

Leah's eyes snapped to the clock above the whiteboard.

8:00 am.

"I was getting the charts. And I am not late. We start the meeting at 8am." Leah said as she placed her laptop and coffee on the table.

"Dr. Garcia, this is not your 9 to 5 corporate job where you enter and leave at a given time. You are a doctor and time should cease to exist because our patient's life is in the palm of our hands. Every minute you spend wasting time, that much is cut from our patient's life. Have you forgotten your Hippocrates oath?"

Leah wanted to answer back, but she bit her tongue. NOT worth it Leah, calm down. 

So clenching her jaw and swallowing down the humiliation, she responded in a curt voice. "Yes Doctor."

"Tardiness in not acceptable. Is that clear?" 

Baz interrupted, trying to diffuse the situation. "Ethan she wasn't even that lat-"

Cutting Baz off, his icy eyes bored into her angry hazel ones. "Dr. Garcia, am I clear?"

"Crystal." Leah spoke up, glaring at Ethan.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------- And that's how the entire day continued. When working the case they were like a well oiled machine but outside in the hallways, they would glare at each other as if they wanted to kill each other.

The tension between Ethan was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. They butted heads throughout the duration of the shift that even the staff noticed.

Leah felt like a ticking time bomb, threatening to explode. Anger, frustration and pain is a very dangerous cocktail together, and now she had all of them whirling inside her like a tornado.

I'm gonna fucking confront him. That son of a bitch has it coming. Leah thought to herself, her teeth grinding.

So when she saw Ethan head towards the stairwell, she followed him.

"Dr. Ramsey, wait up."

"If it isn't patient related, don't bother me."

Leah rushed after him and grabbed him by his elbow with incredible strength, causing him to stop and turn towards her.

"What has gotten over you Ethan?"

"I don't know what you are talking about." He crossed his arms and stood there, towering over her.

"You are a smart guy. Acting dumb doesn't suit you. Now, let's try again, what has happened that has made you so pissed with me?"

"Rookie, I'm not mad at you."

"Yes you are!! You said Rookie in B flat and that only happens when I have royally pissed you off. And last time I checked I haven't done anything wrong-"

"What you did wrong, was crash into my life. What you did wrong, was try to cheer me up on a bad day. What you did wrong, was comfort me in my pain. What you did wrong was have faith in me when I was in doubt. What you did wrong, was make me fall for you."

Leah's jaw dropped. What sort of backhanded compliment was that? Clearing her throat and squashing the butterflies in her stomach, she spoke. "Ethan you can't say things like this to me."

"Why not? It's the truth. I like you way too much for my liking." He said in a low voice.

Leah threw her hands in the air. "Because, I am in a freaking relationship! You had your chance and you blew it. Don't Gove me mixed feelings now."

"I-"

"No now you will listen. You pushed me away. You said that you wanted space. You wanted my professional development. You wanted things to go back to normal. This is the new normal, okay? Accept it."

For a first time in a very long time, he looked helpless and guilty. "I was so wrong sunshine..."

Leah stuffed her hands in her coat and looked down at her lavender converse. She was at a complete loss of words. If things would have been easier she would have kissed him and hugged the sadness out of him.

But life is complicated. And everything has a price.

"So that's it huh? So..." Gulping Ethan continued, "You are over me?"

Silence.

Her brain was screaming at her to say yes and to move on from the angsty and painful chapter of her life. But she could not get herself to say it.

"If things were not as fucked up as they were... Do you think we would be a thing?"

Sighing she patted his arm. "I think you are smart enough to figure that out."

Leah side stepped him and climbed down the steps and opened the door of the stairwell to find Bryce standing there, a deer caught in the headlight expression on his face.

Leah greeted him, curiosity laced in her voice. "H..hey?" 

Bryce immediately turned and started walking away fast.

"Bryce wait up."

This is some deja vu.

Bryce stopped and turned towards her, pain shining in his eyes. "Is it true?"

"What?"

"That you have feelings for Dr. Ramsey."

Shit shit shit. An alarm went on in her brain which caused her to freeze up.

"I-" Leah started but she was interrupted.

"I heard everything."

Leah took a deep breath. Cat’s out of the bag. No point denying it. "Please don't jump to conclusions. I-" her pager beeped, signalling that a VIP patient had arrived and she sighed.

"I need to go now. I will talk to you tonight. Please don't do anything rash. I beg you."

Without saying a word, Bryce shrugged and walked away.

Why is does it feel like the two important men of my life walked away from me in a span of 2 minutes?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was nine in the night and Leah was finally done with her rounds. Wearing her jeans and jumper, she tied her hair long black locks into a messy bun and stared at her reflection in the mirror.

Letting out a breath, she gave herself a pep talk. Okay Leah... You have to make a decision. You are not Hannah Montana. You can't have the best of both worl-

Her phone pinged, interrupting her. She picked it up to see that it was a text from Ethan. 

Letting out a sigh, she picked up her messenger bag and walked out of the hospital, only one thing running in her head.

Who do I listen to? My head thats telling me that Ethan will hurt me again and that Bryce is better? Or my heart which tells me that Ethan is my one shot at true love?

It was painful to write this 

Also the last part got 88 notes so lets get this to 90 notes so that I have motivation to write part 3 heheheheh 

what do you think will happen in the next part?

ALSO GIVE ME SUGGESTIONS FOR WHAT I SHOULD NAME THIS SERIES

I love you guys 

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[pannyacottafugo]

i really don’t like that bonus chapter of purple haze feedback and i feel like ranting about it. there are some interesting things that got brought up but overall i feel like it was a really strange thing to add on to a book which was already really good, but the addition of that chapter ruins some of the characters and it really annoys me. i prefer not to consider it as canon to phf. apologies for my incoherency i don’t write very well and have a hard time collecting my thoughts lmao. also this is hella long sorry

i’ll do it in a list format i guess idk

- mista was surprisingly probably the most realistic out of the three characters ? however i still very much don’t like his characterisation in both phf and the bonus chapter. he seems so much more resentful and angry than he did in canon. i understand to some extent at least, because his friends have just died and it makes sense for him to resent giorno for this. however jumping straight to wanting to murder him despite knowing that bucciarati wanted this and they knew the risk they were taking seems extremely harsh even for someone who’s this mad. however, i at least understand his motives and do believe he would hold some level of anger towards giorno that he needs to overcome and forgive him, the same as fugo.

- giornos characterisation is shit. im sorry but it’s so bad, and it ruins his character in phf and imo is a large part of the reason many people believe fugio to be manipulative. giorno in the final chapter of phf is empathetic and understanding towards fugo, and have a clear motive of wanting to help him move on. in the bonus chapter, he jumps from being righteous with a goal, to a manipulative asshole who seems like he’s been waiting for the moment to get into power. this then ruins his previous character, because it makes him seem shady, as if he was hiding this goal all along. i think giorno was aspiring for some level of power, which is something taken from dio, but at the end of the day his goals were good and he wasn’t there to use people to his advantage. stuff he does out of character that really bothered me was telling mista if he killed him he would be the fourth person (straight up using his tetraphobia against him), being extremely unempathetic and lacking any compassion to mista who just lost his friends (aka being an ass for no reason), and telling trish this is the end of her time with the gang (which i’ll get into in a sec). all this just is poor characterisation and it changes the reader’s perspective of giornos behaviour towards fugo, because it makes him look sneaky, as if he’s lying to fugo to control him WHICH HE WASNT DOING

- the fact that giorno cuts trish off really bothered me too. she was fifteen, had no family, and had formed a close relationship with both bucciarati (who she saw as a father figure) and narancia (who had deep empathy for her). yet giorno cuts her off with no real explanation and doesn’t even let her attend their funerals AND FOR WHAT. SHE HAS NO WHERE TO GO. it made me so mad so mad

- the comparison between trish and bruno’s mum was extremely weak and didn’t make much sense. in trish’s case, bruno sacrificed himself for her own good, to help someone he cared for. bruno’s mum was on the opposite end, and bruno chose to throw away a better life for himself to help his DAD which then meant his mum couldn’t see him often either. so there really isn’t much comparison between the two because they were on different ends of bruno’s kindness.

- and then finally the thing that REALLY pissed me off was trish basically calling bruno an asshole for dying for her. i understand where the author was going, and it is actually a really interesting concept. trish believes that she would have been better off dead, and bruno sacrificing his life for her didnt lead to her living a better life like he thought it would. so on the one hand, i can read this as “he was too kind for his own good”. and she then says that someone like giorno can turn these things in his favour, but regular people like her can’t. HOWEVER IT DOESNT GO IN THIS DIRECTION. it just seems as though the author missed the point of bruno’s sacrifice for trish and also seems to believe giornos motivations come from him being selfish. plus the fact that there’s a comparison between trish and her mum makes things worse, considering the mum has no reason to believe bruno to be awful other than the fact that he “abandoned her” for someone else. in trish’s case, he didn’t abandon her, she was abandoned by giorno, and was saved by bruno.

anyway, this is likely extremely incoherent. there’s a lot more i could say but i don’t wanna write a whole novel so i’ve probably missed a lot. plus i’d probably have to reread the chapter for better insight. i have a hard time writing what i’m thinking too.

i guess my main disappointment in this chapter is that it feels as though it’s a poor interpretation of vento aureo, and anything that may be interesting is executed poorly or turns in a direction that either mischaracterises or is a massive reach. it feels like the author had a direction but it was messy and didn’t hit like it should have, and the main idea was lost.

the addition of this chapter just feels like it destroys some of the really good characterisation in phf. this is why i prefer to ignore this and pretend it isn’t canon to purple haze feedback, which it doesn’t have to be considering i have a copy of the book (in japanese) and from what i can tell this chapter isn’t included.

also if u haven’t and ur interested read it urself don’t listen to me i’m just some random what do i know. and if u like it that’s good for u too. chances are i’m just an idiot

[alittlequad]

i got tagged by the lovely @inyoursheets to share my deepest darkest secrets. Not really but I will probably spill anyways. You know me.

Rules: answer 30 questions and tag 20 blogs you are contractually obligated to know better.

name/nickname: My name is Samantha but only my mum is allowed to use that (and it usually means I am in trouble). I go by Sam!

gender: I am a cis woman 

star sign: Taurus 

height: I am a whopping five foot ZERO. The zero is important.

time: It is currently 9.37pm

birthday: April

favorite bands: The Script, The Lumineers, Paramore.

favorite solo artists: James Arthur, Lewis Capaldi, James Bay....I have sooooo many more but I don’t wanna bore you.

song stuck in my head: I just got Train Wreck out of my head and now I cannot for the life of me stop saying “what are ye doin in ma swamp!” to myself.... help me please.

last movie: See No Evil, Hear No Evil. This movie is 1000% the funniest thing i’ve seen. Captures my humour to a tee.

last show: Grey’s Anatomy (re-watching for the millionth time, sue me)

when did I create this blog: wayyyyy back in 2015. Although my personal one was made wayyyy back in 2011 hahahaha. 

what I post: Mostly Good Girls, occasional funny meme, cats, random tv shows that I love.

last thing googled: I google searched for some reference pics for my latest atwork.

other blogs: my personal one that I haven’t used in around a year hahaha

do I get asks: I’ve had a few outwith ask games and they are the sweetest things

why I chose my url: I was living in Spain and it was my favourite Spanish phrase.

following: 832 blogs. I would say a good chunk of them are inactive though because i’ve been in a few fandoms with this blog.

followers: 1570. Same as above, I’ve been in multiple fandoms so I think a lot of them are inactive. If not I hope they enjoy my current obsessions. 

average hours of sleep: Work has been crazy busy and my shifts are all over the place so probably around 4 or 5 hours per night.

lucky number: 17

instruments: Like musical? I have no musical bone in my body

what am I wearing: A shirt that says ‘Not Today’ (MOOOOD) and leggings. Oh and comfy slippers. It is freeeeezing.

dream job: ughhhhhh. I’ve been asking myself the same question everyday since I graduated two years ago. Probably something in politics, research or education. 

dream trip: Iceland, then Canada!

favorite food: Minceee (literally just made this for dinner)

nationality: Scottish

favorite song: Right now it is Rush by Lewis Capaldi

last book read: I read ‘In Five Years’ like two months ago, I have a hugeee pile to start but no time or motivation to get to .

top three fictional universes I’d like to live in: I used to think the Spy Kids universe was pretty neat. Neverland would also be pretty cool, no adults and no growing  up? sign me up. Can’t miss out the Harry Potter universe or my 10 year old self would never forgive me.

Tagging; @jade-marie @purplemagic @yellowhammerga @fondful @missmaxime @xstrawmari @elizabethbolands @foxmagpie @riosgoodgirll @pynkhues and anyoneee else who sees this to do this if you wanna! Sorry if you have already been tagged. My dash is a messy place and I lose track!

[frenchlangdon]

this isn’t what i wanted

(Part 5 to everything i wanted)

everything i wanted masterlist

A/n: it’s been awhile since I’ve last posted a chap! I just haven’t been motivated to write. I did write the first half of this like a month or two ago and I got stuck so I decided to just do a time jump. Also this chapter is like extremely messy, I apologize! I have no idea where I’m going with this but I hope you enjoy this somewhat! ALSO!!! Happy 32nd birthday to Cody omg he’s getting old 😂

—

“Do you feel your heart beating?” Michael would ask this question numerous times a day, being alive, feeling alive wasn’t really what you were focusing on at the moment. Guilt was overshadowing every emotion. You couldn’t shake it, it was making you physically sick. You once again were selfish and this time it ended up killing Xavier. You couldn’t forgive yourself for that. Sure you had wanted to be alive again and you thought you would have done anything for a second chance but if you knew it would’ve cost Xavier his life, you wouldn’t have done it.

You nodded, not looking at Michael. You were still processing everything that happened. It had been a week since you saw Xavier burst into flames. You were on edge ever since. During this whole week your body would start to shake and you’d completely lose all control and start to sob uncontrollably.

“Would you ever do that to me?” You finally looked at him. Your eyes stayed glossy, your eyes were like an overflowing fountain. You hadn’t stopped crying the whole week and you had a constant headache because of it. “No my love. I could never hurt you.” He smiled softly at you as he cupped your cheek. He looked at you so tenderly. He truly adored you. “I trusted you, Michael.” You let out a small whimper, trying your hardest not to let the tears escape. “But you betrayed my trust and you hurt me. You took away the only person who meant something to me. Just like those witches took away your Ms. Mead.” He blinked at your statement and stood back. “I did that for us. So that we could be together. Didn’t you want that?” His voice was small, genuinely hurt, he stood there watching you, studying your face. “I only want your love.” He shook his head as he spoke. “Why me, Michael?”

“That day we met, I was pulled to you. You’re telling me it wasn’t like that for you? Once I saw you I knew I had to have you. We were made for each other. You’ll see, I promise you.” His eyes pleaded with yours. Your mind was completely scrambled, you weren’t able to think straight, your emotions had gone completely haywire. You were in a very luxurious living room, with very expensive art hanging along the walls, the furniture was designer you just knew it. Maybe if the circumstances were different you would have observed every detail of this room but there you sat in an expensive lounge chair with slightly puffy eyes and Michael crouching in front of you wiping each tear that trailed down your cheek. “Please give me a chance.” He whispered, his bottom lip trembling, he was just as miserable as you were. He truly didn’t think you’d be this affected by what he had done. He just wanted you all to himself and he thought you wanted that too, he was blinded by his own fantasies and ideas. “I really liked you. And you screwed it all up by killing him!”

“He was already dead!”

“What did you do to him then?! I need to know Michael. Let me know if I’ll ever get to see him again. Please. Because I have no fucking clue what to think. I-I don’t know where he is, if he even is anywhere. Just tell me! Stop acting like it didn’t happen. You can’t brush something like that over! You just can’t!” You finally snapped, your face was red and tear stained. Your headache was now throbbing. “I-” He paused, not knowing what to say as he looked down to his lap. “No you can’t see him, he’s gone.” He looked back up into your eyes. Your heart shattered at those words, he was now completely wiped off of this planet. And nobody except you and Michael knew. “I need to be alone.” You mumbled. You turned away from Michael and rubbed your temples. “But I-.”

“Leave me alone Michael!” You yelled out.”

He closed his mouth immediately and vanished.

Now you were wishing you could disappear like before. Just go invisible, never to be seen again. You drew your knees against your chest and cried.

—-

“Pineapple pizza, your favorite.” He murmured as he sat the pizza box down on the table.

You had given him the silent treatment for few months . You would venture outside on your own every other day, exploring the new world. It was completely different than when you were alive before. Michael has gotten you a phone so y’all could keep in touch. He spent almost half a day teaching you everything you needed to know about it. That was the only time you did speak to him, only when you had a question about it. You quickly got the hang of it and you left him alone.

You found yourself taking pictures of the beach, the white sand, the blue waves. Then you started taking pictures of people, couples who were cuddled up together. You took one picture that you were very proud of, it was of a couple laughing. The wind blew the girls hair back just a bit, the sun shone perfectly on their faces, the blue water in the background. You always had a little thing for photography so you were excited to find out there was a built in camera in the phone.

After taking pictures you laid out in the sun and listened to some of the current music, of course some Whitney Houston or Queen would slip in at times and you’d feel nostalgic and remember those days.

You remember jamming out to Bohemian Rhapsody with Xavier in his van. You were going to the beach with him and you remember exactly how you felt that day, the way the sun felt on your skin, almost like how it feels now. The way his fingertips would ghost over your skin, tracing little shapes. The way his lips touched the shell of your ear as he whispered dirty promises. The feeling of him filling you up in the back of the van. His groans and the way he moaned your name.

God you missed him. You kept your eyes closed and tried remembering his smile. You loved his smile. It was so beautiful. He was so beautiful.

“Excuse me, miss?”

You looked up to see a tall and tan shirtless man standing in front of you. Your jaw almost dropped at the sight of him. He had striking blue eyes, brown slightly curly hair, and extremely sexy stubble.

You pulled your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose, “Can I help you sir?” You raised a brow.

He smirked as he glanced at your bikini clad body. “I’ve uh, lost my dog. He’s a German shepherd mix. He has a blue collar…?”

You shook your head as you maintained eye contact with the good looking stranger. “No, I’m sorry.”

“What’s his name? You know, just in case I see him around?”

“His name is Zues.” He paused for a moment. “What’s your name? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Y/n.” You blushed at the stranger.

“Well it was nice meeting you, Y/n. I’m gonna go now… I’ll see you around.” He winked at you and began to jog down the shore. “But I didn’t get your...name!” You called after him.

You were left completely stunned and for some reason amazed by the stranger.

Thirty minutes after the encounter you decided to head back to the house, you decided your escapism had to come to an end for the day.

You were greeted with Michael standing at the bar with his hands tangled in his hair and a frustrated look painted on his face. “What’s wrong?” You spoke to him for the first time since last week. He gazed at you for a second before looking to the ground. “Just work.” He mumbled out. Work. You knew exactly what his work was. He told you everything a week after he brought you here. You felt compelled to comfort him, so you walked over to him and embraced him. He tensed in your arms but slowly melted into it. He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his face into your neck. “You know somehow I still feel attracted to you. After everything.” You whispered against his chest. “I’m sorry.” He said softly, his voice cracked a bit. You knew he was. You knew by the way he gave you space, the way he was patient with you, how he would look at you with sorrow and guilt whenever he caught you crying. You just knew in your heart he didn’t mean for it to end up like this. “I know you’re not a monster, Michael.” You pulled away and wiped the tears from his face. He leaned in and kissed you. His tender lips against yours felt like heaven. It felt like time had stopped, but he then pulled away. “I love you so much. I’ll never hurt you again. I’ll never let anything happen to you, I promise.” Michael looked deep into your eyes, holding your face in his hands. Your hands wrapped around his wrists as you kept staring into his eyes. “I’m holding you to it then, Michael.” You smiled. He pecked your lips. You were somewhat ashamed of how attracted you were to him, after all the shit he’s done. How could you? But how could you resist, you thought.

You were done denying your attraction to him, you were left a miserable and needy mess.

“Show me how much you love me.” The sparkle in your eye and the tone of your voice let him know exactly what you meant. He picked you up and wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to his bedroom. He laid you down carefully on his bed. He left kisses all over your jaw, trailing down your neck. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” He muttered against your collarbone. You moaned in response. “Just wanted to worship your body. Show you how much I want you.” His hands trailed up your sides and landed on your breasts, palming and squeezing them. He untied your swimsuit cover up, his eyes raked over your body, trailing up your torso and landing on your eyes. He leaned down to kiss you, “Michael.” He halted his movements at the sound of your voice, he pulled back slightly and looked at you utterly confused. “What if you stopped doing what your father wants. What if you did what you wanted? What if you stop all of this end time stuff and we can live a normal life? Grow old together. Just be in love.” Your hands went to his face, your palms lying against his cheeks. “What if it was just you and I?” You smiled, you thought you were getting somewhere with him.

“You know I can’t do that. I have plans, a prophecy to fulfill. This is my purpose.”

“But you don’t know that. You don’t have to destroy the world and turn it to dust. You can stop it all. Right here right now and just live with me.”

He just stared into your eyes. “I can’t.” He whispered softly. “Do you love me, Michael?” Your voice trembled. You were desperate to try and stop him.

“You know I do.” He scoffed. “If you truly love me, then you’ll stop this. You’ll quit. Because this isn’t what I wanted. I want you to not be so hard on yourself. To be carefree and happy. To not have to worry about witches and warlocks. I want us to live out the rest of our lives without having to worry about Satan's plans and agenda! Don’t you get that you’re just living in his shadow? I mean come on. You’re not doing what you want to do right? You’re doing what he wants. Let him go and be with me. Just be with me.”

“I want us to be carefree and happy.” Your lips ghosted over his as you spoke.

—

Tags: @xscarlett-rosex | @hoeposey | @mrsnegan25 | @astrobabezblog | @joesliebgott

[theowriteswhatever]

Zuko Story With No Title Part 7

This is probably my least favorite part of the story, because I am incredibly bad at writing action. Regardless, I hope you enjoy and the next part should be out tonight. Thanks for all your support!

-Your pal, Bubbles

Everything was so peaceful. Toph was in her earthbent prism, Aang was curled up on Appa’s back, Sokka was in his tent, and Katara was warmly wrapped in her sleeping bag. And best of all, they were all asleep. It was the best time for me to do something I needed to do for a while. 

I made my way away from the camp and kept my eyes wide open for any sign of Sparky Sparky Boom Man. Yeah, everyone else agreed Combustion Man was more appropriate, but I truly believed that Sparky Sparky Boom Man had more of a ring to it. 

I stopped just outside of the Fire Lord’s palace and looked around for any servant or guard that could help me. I spotted a young lady in a raggedy red dress with a messy blue apron over it. Her hair was up in a ponytail and had a matching blue bandana wrapped around it. 

I stood up from my hiding spot in the bushes and brushed off the stray leaves and dirt from my red fire nation dress. I ran my hands through my hair and marched over to her in pretend rage.

“What are you doing out here?” I demanded as I finally reached her.

“Wh-what do you mean?” She asked meekly. She actually looked scared. Which was the goal, but I still felt bad. I had no power over her and she was still afraid. How badly did Azula and Zuko treat these people?

“We’re supposed to be inside preparing for the prince and princess’s return from their beach trip. We don’t have time to dawdle!” 

“I’m so sorry miss. Of course miss.” She responded as she looked down in shame. “It’s quite alright. But I will need a favor in return for sparing you.” She looked up and nodded quickly.

“Anything!” She pleaded. I gulped from the guilt of treating her so poorly. But I knew I needed to do it.

“I seem to have misplaced my maid uniform. I’ll need to borrow yours. You can wear my outfit while you go find a new uniform.” I said firmly, “And perhaps you can find a cleaner one than that old thing.”

“Yes miss. I can do that.”

“Thank you. We must go change in the bushes over there before anyone sees us.” She nodded and practically ran over to the bushes I had just been hiding in. 

She quickly climbed out of her dress and gave it to me as I slipped her mine. She crawled out of the bushes in my stolen outfit and bowed to me.

“Thank you so much for sparing me miss. Have a good evening.” She then quickly scampered inside. I felt bad for her. Azula is already horrible so I can’t imagine what she would do if anyone that served her did a single thing wrong. 

I climbed out of the itchy bushes and once again wiped my outfit off. But instead of making my way into the palace, I turned around and went the opposite direction.

I eventually made it to a tall heavily guarded building and was met by a buff angry man that was quick to question my motives.

“What are you doing away from the temple? You should be preparing for the princess's return.” 

“I was ordered to check on the inmates to make sure they are appropriately suffering.” I said as seriously as I possibly could. He raised an eyebrow and I was almost certain he could see right through me. But I kept a serious look on my face and stared him down as if he wasn’t scaring the heck out of me. He continued his serious glaring and it was almost as if we were having a staring contest. I continued to stare and keep my mouth in a straight line and at this point, my neck hurt from straining so hard to look up at him.

Then all of a sudden, his expression softened and he smiled. “Come right on in Miss. We’re happy to have you!” He turned around and opened the door for me. “Just tell them that Jorgog let you in. They’ll understand.” I smiled and bowed to him before he closed the door behind me. I was shocked by how easy that was, but I wasn’t complaining. 

I made my way down the hallways until I was met with the right door. But of course it was locked. I paused for a second but quickly I remembered my hair clip that I used under “my” bandana. I pulled it out and started to jiggle it in the keyhole, but it wasn’t long before I started to hear footsteps from around the corner. I moved the hair clip around faster, but nothing clicked yet. The footsteps got closer and closer and I kept trying. I didn’t have any other options. The footsteps got loud and monstrous when the lock finally clicked into place. I swung the door open, clambered into the room, and shut the door gently behind me right as the footsteps passed by. I let out a sigh of relief and finally let go of the doorknob.

“(Y/N)?” I heard a familiar voice ask from behind me. I smiled at the gentle tone and turned around.

“Iroh!” I said joyously as I made my way to the cell bars. We reached through the bars and wrapped each other in a short-lived hug.

“What are you doing here?” He questioned with concern laced through his voice.

“I’ve come to set you free.” I admitted. I knew he would warn me that what I did was dangerous and that he wasn’t worth the trouble, but he wasn’t changing my mind. “I know it probably wasn’t the safest idea and I should be more careful, but I couldn’t let you just sit and rot here.” I pulled up my hair clip and began to use it on the lock.

“You didn’t have to do this. I was planning to break out soon anyways.” 

“Of course I had to do this. You cared so much for me in Ba Sing Se, I had to return the favor.” I said as I continued to jiggle the lock, “Plus, when you learned who I really was, you weren’t angry. And for that, I owe you the world,” 

“It takes a lot to make me angry, Miss (Y/N).” He said calmly.

“I bet you’re not even angry with Zuko, are you?” I chuckled as I knew exactly what his answer would be.

“He’s a lost and scared soul. He just needs someone to guide him back to the right path.” Iroh stated sagely. He always found a reason to forgive and I could only hope to have that ability some time in the future as well. “I understand that you must be incredibly angry with my nephew. And I don’t blame you at all. All I ask is that you don’t kill him when you see him again. Anything else is tolerated.” I laughed at how well Iroh knew me and how understanding he would be when I kicked his butt sometime in the future.

The lock finally came undone and I opened the door for him. He gracefully stepped out and wrapped me in another hug. I hugged him back and couldn’t help the few tears that fell from my eyes. “I wish I could’ve come sooner or done more to make it up to you.”

“You did just fine, Miss (Y/N).” I finally let go and stepped back to wipe the tears from my eyes. He smiled at me and I could tell he had shed a few tears too.

“We have to get out of here now. Before they lock us both up.” He nodded and I made my way into the cell. I looked up and saw a metal square gate as a roof with a window on the other side. “We’ll go through that window.”

Iroh followed me into the cell and lifted me up to slide through one of the squares. I barely fit and it wasn’t comfortable, but I made it work. I looked around at the top of the gate, but saw no way to open it. I was about to warn Iroh, but he jumped up and ripped apart one of the squares to slide through. 

My jaw fell to the ground and eyes went wide. I had never seen him do something like that before. “You really were ready to break out, weren’t you?”

“Never underestimate old people.” I laughed and then made my way to the window that was also locked. 

“Make sure no one comes in. I’ll get the window unlocked.” He nodded as I started to work on what was hopefully my last keyhole of the night. I worked for what felt like forever and my arm was getting tired, but I couldn’t give up.

Suddenly the door opened and a man came in. He looked around in confusion for a few seconds before spotting us. Right as he laid eyes on us, the lock clicked and I was able to get the window open. I climbed out almost all the way only to realize that we were up 3 stories and there was nothing to hang onto. “What is it, (Y/N)?” I could hear the guy trying to climb up the cell inside so I had to think fast. 

I spotted a nearby well and pulled water from it to form a large swirl of water. But it could only reach a few feet from the window. I looked back in to see the man coming closer to catching Iroh and I knew there was no other way out. I closed my eyes in fear and pushed off the wall into it. 

I landed hard on the swirl of water and began to sink, but I pulled my way up to the top. The man had reached Iroh but I knew it couldn’t be the end.

“Iroh!” I finally caught his attention and he smiled in relief and pride. He wrestled the guy off of him and made his way out of the window. I reached my arm out for him to take and his hand could barely reach mine. The man approached from behind him and was close to yanking him back down to the cell. 

Iroh let go of the window and fell backwards. His hand fell out from mine and he began to fly towards the stone ground. I panicked knowing I was about to be the reason Former Fire Nation General Iroh died and I would never be heard from again.

But I couldn’t let that happen.

I swung a platform of water out and it caught him right before he crashed to the ground. The platform tilted to gently set him on his feet. I let out a sigh of relief as I gradually let myself through the swirl and onto the stone beside him. We took a few deep breaths of disbelief, but it wasn’t long before our moment of relief was ended. Guards surrounded us and conjured their fire in a fighting stance.

Iroh conjured his too, but I slowly lowered his arm.

“Haven’t you ever heard you can’t fight fire with fire?” I asked the guards. They were confused and let their guards down for only a second. But that was all I needed. 

I broke my spiral and made a wave out of it. I splashed the guards into the wall and froze them there. Iroh seemed impressed, which was a good feeling, but we didn’t have time. I grabbed his arm and made a sheet of ice a few feet in front of us. 

I looked at Iroh to make sure he understood what I was doing and he nodded to confirm. We ran and jumped to slide on the ice. “Go!” I yelled at Iroh as I continued to make more ice for him to slide on. He slid his feet back and forth and was quickly gone.

 I shot icicles at some of the guards’ clothes so that they were stuck to the wall and froze the others. I slid around the building to make sure no one else came and then followed Iroh’s route to the nearby forest. 

I finally caught up with him and melted all the ice behind us so they couldn’t track us. We were deep in the forest near me and my friends’ campsite and I knew this was when I had to split with him.

“This is where I leave you.” I said dramatically. He laughed a little bit and wrapped me in another hug.

“Thank you Miss (Y/N). Not only did you free me, you made it fun.” I laughed a little and then let go of him.

“That’s what I live for.” We smiled at each other and then I bowed. “I hope to see you again soon Iroh.”

“Same to you.” He said as he bowed back. He then walked off into the forest and into the shadows. 

Once he was gone, I made my way back to the campsite and curled up into my sleeping bag without anyone knowing a thing. 

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