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elysianightsss · 1 year ago

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Stalker John Price thot🩵🌼

Stalker John Price who firsts sees you in the library, cute little sundress rising up your thighs as your strain to reach for pride and prejudice on a shelf that’s much too high for you to even try to reach.

Stalker John price who goes behind the shelf and pushes the book out from out from the other side, you thankfully catch it before it falls on your head.

Stalker John Price who uses his military experience to stalk you and not get caught.

Stalker John Price who examines your house while you’re at work to find the perfect hiding spots for him and placing the tiniest cameras around.

Stalker John Price who knows how wrong it is when he’s quick to dart into one of those hiding spaces as you open the door sighing from a long day at work but can’t seem to find a reason to care when you start to strip off your work clothes and change into your fuzzy stitch pj bottoms and hoodie.

Stalker John Price who thinks you look so fucking cute in your pjs. He leans forward almost making the house creak wanting to see more of you. He moves when you do, watching with a grin on his face as you cook your dinner while shaking your hips to music that’s blaring through your speaker.

Stalker John Price who smiles softly when you stuff your face full of pasta, your eyes never leaving the tv screen and soon end up falling asleep on your sofa. He feels it’s safe enough for him to come out.

Stalker John Price who presses a sweet little kiss to your cheek and then leaves your house to go home and set up all the cameras on his computer. He smiles seeing you clear as day on the screen in the same position as before, fast asleep on the sofa.

Stalker John Price who knows exactly how you like your morning coffee. He’s watched you make it 1000 times.

Stalker John Price who notes down in his notebook what your favourite foods and drinks are so he doesn’t forget.

Stalker John Price who confides in Simon about what’s he’s doing only for Simon to assure him he’s doing nothing wrong and it’s all normal even if he feels it’s wrong.

Stalker John Price who goes round your house more often after speaking to Simon.

Stalker John Price who gets painfully hard when you’re first out the shower, fluffy white towel wrapped around your wet body. His blue eyes never leaving your figure as you massage lotion into your skin and spray body mist all over. He inhales holding back from groaning at the scent that clings to you.

Stalker John price who watches you through the crack in your wardrobe doors as you pant and whine and buck your hips against the vibrator buzzing hastily against your little clit.

Stalker John Price who is practically drooling when he thinks you’re done, satisfied but watches you reach for the dildo in your bedside drawer. He was in for a long night of restraint.

Stalker John price who comes up with a plan to be a part of your life because he can’t keep going on without having you for himself. Without keeping you.

Stalker John Price who ‘bumps’ into at your local grocery store and the library and your local bar. Eventual you think it’s fate. Never suspecting he would be a stalker. He’s such a nice, sweet guy.

Stalker John Price who is giddy with excitement when you agree to go on a date with him. He makes it the best damn date you’d ever been on. Dinner, dancing and a show.

Stalker John Price who groans, “Fill my hands with you finally.” When you do eventually let him touch you, his large calloused hands grabbing at every part of you he can. “Finally gonna let me take care of you huh love?” He’ll grin down at you as you nod, so whiny and needy for him. “So fucking perfect and all mine.”

Stalker John Price who marries you.

Stalker John Price who cries when you show him the positive pregnancy test.

Stalker John Price who laughs loudly when your children say that daddy is obsessed with their mommy.

Stalker John Price who after thirty years of marriage, three children and 5 grandchildren never admits that he stalked you but tells you everyday how much he loves you.

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lavandulawrites · 1 year ago

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Our Little Haven

Yandere Fyodor x reader

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

Fyodor is my absolute favourite character. He is so interesting and there are endless possibilities with him.

Masterlist

Synopsis: Life with Fyodor is peaceful and absolutely perfect, but something is missing…

Warnings: NSFW, brainwashing, subtle manipulation, reader has small flashbacks, female reader

Word count: 1474

The sun shinned through the white lace curtains. The wind that swept through the opening in the window making the curtains dance. The sun beam on the wooden floor warm to the touch as you stood with bare feet glancing out the window. The grass in the garden tall and green. The wild flowers making the landscape fairytale like.

A lone sparrow landed on the branch by the window. It’s little beak picked on the apple hanging above it. It made eye contact with you and chirped. You could feel your hand reaching towards it.

Longing.

You snapped out of your trance at the sound of the door to kitchen opening. The old door creaked. In stepped the master of the house. A black haired man with boundless purple eyes that quickly found yours. His lips pulled back into a smile. His black eye lashes fluttered, as his eyes crinkled.

“I see you have gotten a new friend” his melodic voice so very pleasant. He nodded towards the little sparrow as it was happily eating away on the apple.

You smiled slightly as you gazed at the little bird. “Yeah… I suppose I have.”

He hummed as he stepped closer. Cold hands wrapped around your waist as his head rested on your shoulder. His nose nuzzled against your neck. His soft raven hair tickled you. “You haven’t eaten anything. Where you waiting for me my dear?” he raised his head and kissed your cheek.

You nodded.

He spun you around and cupped your face and kissed your lips tenderly. “I appreciate you waiting for me love. It makes me happy” his face soft as he kissed you.

The library in the manor was quite and filled to the brim with books. Some were new and some were as ancient as time. The air filled with a homely smell which were soothing. The tall windows overlooking the garden, making the room lit. You could see the little pound and the ducks swimming among the waterlilies.

You let your hand run over the many books as you decided on what to read. Your hand stopped at a leather bound tome. On its spine it read World History. You removed the book from the shelf, its weight downing your hands. You blew off the dust and took a seat on the velvety rococo couch. You opened it carefully and flipped through the pages.

Multiple of the pages were elegantly annotated. Some of the notes were in Russian and some in Latin. The annotations were many and they were sometimes random. As you flipped through the tome your mind wandered to Fyodor.

You knew of his age and the nature of his ability. When he first had told you, you did not believe him. You found it peculiar that he had trusted you with his secret. After you confronted him, he had only laughed and said “One does not hide anything from one’s loved ones, don’t you agree?”.

His answer had stunned you at first, but you had to agree with him.

You often wondered about what he had seen and what he had experienced. He had told you some details about his past, but not enough. You always craved more. You sighed and placed the tome onto the mahogany table. You leans you head back against the back rest. The ceiling was high and your eyes wandered towards the ceiling rose surrounding the chandelier. Fyodor’s tastes were really exquisite.

“I see you have taken an interest in history, my dear” a deep voice woke you up. You blinked confused and your eyes wandered to the tall man who was examining the tome.

You sat up. “I didn’t mean to go thr-”

“It’s okay” he patted your head. “Lovers should not have any secrets. Do you not agree?” he smiled gently.

You swallowed and nodded. “Yeah.. That’s true”

Fyodor glanced out the window, taking in the beautiful view. “Are you not glad you moved her with me? Away from all the noise… and distractions” he hummed. You could see him glancing at you in out of the corner of his eyes.

“It’s really peaceful here” you smiled.

He turned his head to face you. He hummed in agreement, his voice like butter. “This is our safe haven. Our own little heaven” he leaned down and gently stroked your cheek.

You closed your eyes and leaned into his hand. The coldness of his skin welcoming in the summer heat. His other hand intertwined in your soft hair. Your eyes fluttered open and were met with a playful smile.

The black haired man leaned in and gently kissed your lips. His lips softer than velvet and you wanted more. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your lips together in a fierce kiss. He chuckled against your lips before he licked them. His tongue pushed against them, asking for permission. You gladly accepted. His tongue exploring your mouth and you moaned out in pleasure.

He crawled on top of you and deepened the kiss. His lips hungry and it felt like he devoured you. The gentle Fyodor was completely gone and replaced by a man lost to desperation. You gently pulled his hair and he groaned against your lips.

He parted from your lips and kissed his way to your neck. He sucked and licked on the skin causing you to see stars. His hand lifted up your dress and pulled your lace panties down. You had no idea where he had thrown your panties, but you couldn’t care less.

His long fingers quickly found your cunt and prodded your lips apart. His fingers moved with such skill you thought that this was what he was born to do. Your slick quickly soaking his fingers and he grinned at the sight. “God you are so beautiful like this my love” he sighed softly.

He pulled his fingers out of your cunt and liked them clean. You was disappointed by the emptiness only to become completely in awe by the sight of him licking his fingers clean.

He grinned at your reaction and leaned over you again and pulled your dress over your head. Your white lace bra catching his attention. He smirked as he toyed with the bow in the middle of the bra. “I’m glad you like my gifts.”

Fyodor snaked his arms underneath your back and clasped your bra open. The bra fell on the floor as he quickly dived down to capture your lips. As he kissed you his hands quickly pulled down his fly. He separated from your lips and took both his pants and boxers off. His cock hard and made your mouth water. He quickly slipped his shirt over his head.

He lined himself against your entrance and showed himself in without warning. You moaned loudly at the heavenly sensation. His movements fast and his dick hitting just right.

He looked down at you with suck lovingly eyes you felt a tug at your heart. His hair had fallen down from his shoulder and softly framed his face. The sun rays catching his hair making it shin like the feathers of the ravens that resided in your garden. Your gaze fell down to his lips and to the red stains of your lipstick. The colour was deep and beautiful. Images of that very colour filled your mind accompanied with screams of terrors.

Your eyes widened and you blinked furiously to get rid of the images.

Fyodor slowed down his movements. His dark eyebrows furrowed. “Are you alright darling?” his voice filled with worry. His movements had completely stopped.

You swallowed and nodded. “Yeah. Please continue” you smiled up at him.

He nodded and continued trusting into you. You pulled him down into an embrace. The ceiling was filled with various colours from the sunset. Reds, yellows and pinks filled your vision.

The familiar feeling in the bottom of your stomach made you moan. You kissed him deeply as you climaxed. He followed soon after and pulled out and painted your stomach white.

As you both laid together on the couch your mind wandered. You couldn’t stop the many images of what seemed like your past flicker across your eyes. The sound of people laughing soon turned into screams and your vision turned to red. You turned to face the sleeping man besides you. His long lashes shadowed over his high cheekbones. You couldn’t shake off the feeling that he had something to do with your sudden images.

You laid there awake lost in thoughts for what felt like forever. Maybe it was the best not to think about it. It would only cause you distress and as your lover said , it was not good for you. Listen to Fyodor and all will turn well you said to yourself as you drifted asleep.

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backwardshatnick · 2 months ago

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𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 (𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗂 𝖺𝗆 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇)

in which matt works for a call centre of your phone operator.

pairing: call centre representative!matt x customer!reader wc: 1.7k notes: fluff, flirty!matt, frustrated!reader (it's just lacking another one of my favourite F words), use of the name bernard, mention of physics that gives me whiplash 🤓 series masterlist can be found here! [divider credits to: @strangergraphics]

“Shoot,” you grunted, sigh after sigh leaving your mouth before you screamed into your pillow. Your hair was a mess, the mug of warm lavender tea long forgotten and cold by the table lamp while your laptop screen was stuck with the face of your Classical Mechanics professor but his booming voice still on-going despite the scratchy and crackly quality until it finally stopped.

You had done all your due diligence, rebooting the modem, resetting your router, checking your network configurations and even switching to the dorm’s weak internet to your own phone hot spot, but nothing was working despite the full four white bars next to the name of your phone operator company’s name, Cell4. Leaving the dorm just to go to campus’s library is a hassle as this lecture was about to end in 45 minutes. Scrolling through your contacts, you finally found the Customer’s Support number from Cell4 that had been automatically saved when you had registered for your phone number the very first time you held the small pink Samsung in between your fingers.

The dial tone was crisp and audible, the typical hold music dancing through your ears before you were greeted with a woman’s synthetic voice asking you to press certain numbers to fit which representative you were supposed to solve your mobile issues with. It did not take long as you finally heard a gentle and warm voice saying, “Thank you for calling Cell4, this is Bernard speaking. How can I brighten your day today?”

On Bernard’s, or Matthew’s side, there was a moment of static, a slight spark followed by a small, frustrated sigh crackling through the line.

You finally stood up from the wooden floor of your room, back now resting against your bed with your index and thumb softly pinching your nose to ease the stress. “Hi, uh, sorry. I think my internet’s having an absolute meltdown. I’ve tried everything but it seems like I have to use the dial-up internet cause it’s acting like it’s stuck in 2009.”

Matt leaned back in his headset, the corner of his mouth rising up into a cheeky smile after making out the frazzled but clearly young voice. This was finally his time to shine and crack some jokes that were rarely appreciated by his older customers. He cracked his knuckles before clearing his voice to answer, “No worries at all. You’re talking to someone who as a kid dialed his computer teacher in primary school thinking that the internet was monitored by them. You’re in absolute good hands, miss.”

A chortle fuzzed through his headset as you replied with a similar manner to ease the situation, “Are you guys trained to do that? It’s in the manual?”

“Oh, absolutely. Step one: sound vaguely competent and then proceed to step two…” Matt said, his voice trailing off, making you curious.

“Bernard? Are you still there?”

“I was just messing with you. Step two was actually to charm the caller until they forget why they called and were mad in the first place.”

You couldn’t hold in your laughter, bright and clear through your receiver which made Matt break into a wide gummy grin, “Alright, alright Bernard from Cell4. How do we fix this?”

Matt chuckled on the other end, flipping through a binder that had the step-by-step guide to fix your potential problem. Although he knew everything by heart and memory, it was always a habit of him to have something to fiddle with in his hands, which was partly a reason why he got transferred to customer service when his supervisor had found him tampering with the wires and chargers of the display phones.

The sound of the crisp pages flipping could be heard on your end, your dubiousness slowly growing as the phone call quality was oddly good. But it all soon went away as Matt asked you his first question.

“Well, I am going to be asking you some highly complicated and mysterious questions, like… is your modem plugged in?”

“Wow, so we’re going straight to the hard stuff, huh?” “I told you, we’re not playing games here,” Matt answered, fingers still folding and unfolding the corners of the customer guide.

The call proceed for the next six minutes, him guiding you through restarts, reboots, resets and other obscure steps involving buttons and wires you had no idea even existed. Despite his constant jokes, Matt still explained things clearly and earnestly, never sounding annoyed and even calling the internet an “anxious printer who can sense your fear.”

With his guidance, your frustration soon fizzled away. Your complaints and whining disappearing and replaced with strings of laughter and pain in the cheeks. You were sure that your left shoulder was going to be strained tomorrow morning from constantly leaning your neck against it to support your phone in between your ear, but Matt was making it all worth it. Eventually, his help had paid its price when you could see not only he face of your professor, but also his slides where he had already jotted with scribbled numbers, enthralling mathematical symbols and diagrams which could easily be mistaken with a 19th century mathematical discovery.

Matt could hear the voice resonating from your laptop and uttered, “Finally back from the digital afterlife?”

“Thank you so, so much Bernard,” you said, hoping the smile that you had on your face could somehow be heard through his headset, “I can now finally continue listening to my riveting lecture on Euclidean space.”

“Whoah, slow down there Einstein. It’s part of my job. I only expect a Bernard shoutout when you get to do your valedictorian speech,” he teased.

You let out a soft giggle, “I definitely would. After thanking my pug, Mr. Winston and the girl who wiped the lipgloss of my teeth during orientation.”

He stood up for a moment to straighten his back and excitedly answered upon hearing the word ‘pug’.

“Wait, you have a pug called Mr. Winston? I have a stuffed pug called Mr. Wrinkleton!”

“For real?” you said, back straightened as well. “And you’re not offended that you’re gonna be the third person I thank in my speech?”

“You got me with the pug so it doesn’t matter anymore,” he chimed, the gummy smile still evident on his face.

Your face was also plastered with a grin, the excitement buzzing through your body. Bernard, or Matt, is an anonymous entity, but the thrill of his anonymity, with no face claim gives you a kick of confidence to enjoy the conversation without having to be worried about being perceived. The silent pause that you both shared was not awkward, but you both knew that his job here was done but none of you were quite ready to hang up just yet.

Until Matt broke it first.

“So… I can’t legally say this or HR is gonna be at my as- I mean my coattails,” he corrected, knowing that all his conversations are indeed recorded if complaints were to arise from a poor survey and one-star review to the company. “But I feel like I owe it to the future valedictorian that your laugh might’ve fixed my boring night more than I fixed your internet.” You blink once. Twice. Your cheeks now reddening.

“Are you flirting with a customer, Bernard?”

“I am just expressing my appreciation, professionally, for the sporting attitude and well-timed giggles that we had shared, professionally again, of course,” Matt answered proudly.

You laughed again, this time louder before coming up with an equally charming and professional reply, “Well, Bernard from Cell4, I would say that you are my go-to if I ever need help with anything.”

“You know my number. Same jokes, same charm every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday until 7pm.”

There was slight hesitation when you wanted to answer him, but you only live once and it had been a long while since you had such a good laugh now that it is almost finals season.

“Hey, so, um… I know that there’s going to be a survey at the end of this call and my internet package is limited to only 50GB per month… Do you think I can get bonus data if I say that you’re very, very, very helpful and maybe also kind of cute?” you said, stretching the ends of your words.

Matt was basically cheesing now through the mic, now clearing his throat before muttering, “Only if you spell ‘cute’ in all caps.”

“100%,” you replied, the physics lecture only now jumping into your senses when you could hear the professor mentioning the potential topics during your exam, “I should probably go now and pretend to be a competent student.”

“And I should go back and take another call while pretending to be a competent calls rep who pretends to not miss this one.” You could hear your heart skip a beat, the warmth coming up to your cheeks as your stomach felt giddy with butterflies.

This is just another phone operator representative. A different kind of smooth operator.

“Talk soon, maybe?”

He chuckled, “Only if you’re breaking up now. Because I think I am smitten.”

“Bye, Bernard,” you giggled, tapping on your phone to let the call end before he could give you another one of his charms, fingers immediately going to fill in the survey as your lecture played in the background like a podcast.

You knew that Cell4 usually sends in a reply whenever a survey has been successfully received, but this time it was a lot special. And unusually fast.

Putting down the pen that you had in your hand from copying your professor’s slides, you tapped on the green Messages app where you got a text from Cell4.

Thank you for your call. We hope your connection stays strong. P.S.: And so should ours. - M. Bernard ;)

Maybe losing the internet was not so bad after all.

But is M his last name, or is it Bernard? The curiosity itched your brain, but you knew that you could count on your detective of a best friend to search for him on Instagram.

The internet really does wonders to people, doesn’t it?

📤 @vanteguccir

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo au #matthew sturniolo au #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo imagine #sturniolo triplets #𓏲˚˖♡𓂃 olive writes #ccr!matt x c!reader ‧₊˚☎︎彡 #Spotify

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th3-c0rps3-r0gu3 · 1 year ago

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Arranged marriage?

Royal au

Pairing: princess (to be queen) Natasha X autistic queen reader.

Warnings: Natasha being an asshole. (She gets better... Just not yet.)

I got this idea from a Pinterest post from Tumblr. Credits go to whoever that person is. If anyone can find the person who made the original idea please let me know so I can give proper credit.

Natasha was in a marriage she didn't want. Well not yet. The married part. Natasha definitely did not want the marriage at all. But technically she was only engaged. And Natasha hated the fact that her parents refused to let her rule unless she was married. But it was ok. Because she had a plan. Simple and easy. Wait a year or so after the wedding. Then kill queen y/n and live as a widowed queen on her own. Then she would rule alone and get two kingdoms to run. Hers and y/n's. Natasha thought it full proof.

Y/n pov:

I hate this. The meetings and arrangements for a wedding I honestly don't want. I didn't even want to be queen. I have dragons to study and no time to run a large and not to mention busy kingdom. I'm honestly hoping this new wife of mine can just run it for me while I travel to the scorching geysers that dragons tend to nest at. Though in all honesty my supposed to be wife scares me. She's so intimidating and scary. Constantly scowling at me as if I wanted this. I don't. Well I kinda do. Simply so I don't have to run this place. But still! Princess Romanoff could at least be a bit nicer...

It's another beautiful morning and I'm meant to be meeting up with princess Romanoff. And instead of being down in the main hall I'm in the library amongst several old books about striped winged dragons. I know where I'm meant to be but I don't want to have to deal with my scary soon to be wife. So instead I'm hoping that Natasha just thinks I forgot and goes back to her own kingdom.

A crash tells me I'm not going to get my wish. I glance above a pile of books only to see the cursing form of princess Natasha romanoff. I duck back behind my books again and hope against logic that she didn't notice me. Luck is not on my side. I wince as another crash echoes through the library. These are important and ancient books of history. History no one but me reads but still history! And then Natasha's head pops up over the shorter stack of books. Those are about the green clawed wyvern. I look up and see Natasha scowling at me.

"hi princess."

I try and greet her but Natasha's scowl only deepens. She's pissed. At me. Of course she is. I sigh and step out of my mountain of books. Walking around to greet the princess. I smile awkwardly. Natasha doesn't.

"you didn't show up in the great hall. Now I had to come and find you. Do you realise how messy this room is? You should hire a cleaner."

Natasha berated me for the millionth time. Truth be told I should get a cleaner in here but it's the only library study that holds the draconic records. So only I ever frequent the room and I'm not bothered by the dust. So I never got a cleaner. I won't bother explaining that to Natasha. I sigh and nod along to Natasha as she keeps ranting. I've learned that agreeing with her is easier than arguing.

"my apologies princess I forgot the meeting was today."

I try and remain polite as Natasha bursts into another rant about my incompetence. That seems to be her favourite thing to rant about nowadays. Until I notice the book I had been searching for earlier. The one about white bellied fire drakes and their subspecies. I know I should be focused on Natasha but I'm afraid if I look away I won't be able to find it again. I keep my unblinking gaze on the book. My mind blocking out Natasha's rant. Only I don't have the focus to feel guilty about not listening. I finally give in and push past Natasha to grab the book. My smile is wide as I pull it out and examine it. In perfect condition too!

Natasha gapes offended at me as I brush past her to get my book. But unfortunately for her ego I have bigger issues to worry about. I grab the books and brush the dust that had been collecting in it before marching over to my already crowded desk and slipping the ancient text onto it and flipping it open. My eyes light up as I see the familiar images of the white bellied fire drakes. When I finally look up Natasha is staring at me with probably more rage than any sort of fire wyrm that I've ever studied. I purse my lips and an apologetic look comes to my face. At least I hope it looks apologetic.

"ah right... My apologies princess.."

I try and smile but Natasha bursts into another rageful rant about disrespect and my idiotic behaviour and if we are meant to be married and yadayadayada I don't actually care currently I have my book. I sigh and prop my head up against my palm as I half pay attention to anything Natasha is screaming before I look down at my book and whoopsies I'm now paying attention to white bellied fire drakes.

By the time Natasha finishes her second rant I forgot she was even there as I am occupied with reading about ice bellied fire drakes, the close cousin to white bellied fire drakes. I recall a lot of the information in the book but it's nice to get a refresher. I don't remember Natasha is still there until she hits me on the head with a scroll. I look up confused until I realised what scroll she hit me with. The one about steelscaled amphipteres and I gently grab it from Natasha and sit it down gently.

"princess be careful these scrolls are incredibly old and could be damaged easily!"

I exclaim. I don't know what I'd do if any of these books and scrolls got damaged. Have a mental break down and lock myself up for a few weeks probably. It's not until Natasha responds that I look up.

"so what! It's just a bunch of mumbo jumbo anyway who cares."

I freeze and my eyes grow cold. How dare she. These texts are ancient words of history not a bunch of mumbo jumbo and the fact Natasha dare say so makes me angry. I stand up and walk to stand in front of Natasha.

"I care. And if you don't then get out of my library before I call my guards to come and escort you out so I don't have to deal with another one of your useless rants that nobody likes you insufferable pathetic human being."

I snarl. I know this is going to enrage the princess but she has no authority here and I used my serious tone. Meaning no arguments or else. This is my kingdom and I won't let Natasha act otherwise. And by her scowling and burning eyes she knows it too. And before I can say another word princess Natasha romanoff stalks out the room without another word. I sigh and sit down behind my desk. This is gonna be a long marriage.

A/n: this was originally meant to be a one shot but it's turned into a series. Yay! And before anyone comes for me about writing autism wrong I am autistic and this is how I would react in a situation like this.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x you #black widow #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #black widow x reader

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adventuresofalgy · 3 months ago

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It was Sunday again… already! And it was another fine, dry, bright and sunny day in the wild west Highlands of Scotland, but, as Algy discovered, the air was cold and the wind was remarkably chilly, and altogether it did not feel anything like as warm and inviting as it looked…

But it was spring nonetheless: plants were bursting into fresh green growth all over the garden, trees and shrubs were starting to flower, the great white cherry blossom was buzzing with bees, and the birds were exceedingly busy in the bushes and – Algy hoped – in the nest boxes which his assistants had installed especially for their use 😀

Collecting a volume of poetry from his own personal library, Algy tried to find a suitable place in which to relax and indulge in his usual Sunday reading, but many of his favourite spots felt too cold. Eventually, however, he settled down upon a sunny slope where a patch of cowslips had just begun to flower, and opened his book of verse, which was devoted to poems about the four seasons. Turning the pages, he was rather surprised to see a poem by D H Lawrence:

This spring as it comes bursts up in bonfires green, Wild puffing of emerald trees, and flame-filled bushes, Thorn-blossom lifting in wreaths of smoke between Where the wood fumes up and the watery, flickering rushes. I am amazed at this spring, this conflagration Of green fires lit on the soil of the earth, this blaze Of growing, and sparks that puff in wild gyration, Faces of people streaming across my gaze. And I, what fountain of fire am I among This leaping combustion of spring? My spirit is tossed About like a shadow buffeted in the throng Of flames, a shadow that's gone astray, and is lost.

[Algy is reading the poem The Enkindled Spring by the 20th century English writer D H Lawrence.]

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witchynyx · 4 months ago

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Bad Witchy Authors: Shawn Robbins & Leanna Greenaway

Ok, so I see a lot of posts discussing bad witchy authors and I have never seen these two mentioned, which, just... boggles the mind.

So I guess I'm sharing some of my notes!

Their books are super-popular, but Ima reference some of my 24 pages of notes on Wiccapedia (2011)

This book is gorgeous, suuuper-accessible (almost any bookstore or library with any witchy books has this book), and it's the first book a lot of witch-curious folks pick up.

I don't have the brain-power to organise thoughts into topics, so I'm just gonna drop some of my 'favourite' quotes in the order they appear, for folks to make their own judgements...

Preface: Using Practical Magick . . . in Everyday Life

“Although there are modern Wiccans who still worship the traditional gods and goddesses, many witches... prefer a newer branch of witchcraft based on angel energy, known as Angelic Wicca”

“From the fourteenth to the eighteenth centuries, for complex reasons that scholars are still studying, waves of paranoia, hysteria, and suspicion set off witch hunts throughout the Western world, where those accused of witchcraft and trafficking with the devil were tried in both ecclesiastical and secular courts”

“Lesser mortals, and some religious faiths, blame an evil entity such as the devil for the negativity that mankind creates.... ”

“.. the foundation of our faith is much the same as it was hundreds of years ago”

Introduction: A Witch’s Tool Kit

The Pentacle:

“In pagan times the symbol was often worn as an amulet for spiritual protection and to ensure a safe, happy homecoming”

“..because most witches want to practice purely white magick and not associate themselves with anything negative”

“The sweep, or brush [of a besom], corresponds to the female genitalia, and the staff is associated with the male phallus— therefore it is a symbol of the male and the female combined”

Chapter 1: Witches Never Die, They Just Get Recycled

“We are all reincarnating at different rates. This is why some people are truly wonderful and some are, well, not”

“When you meet lovely, kind, and caring people, it is probable that they have reincarnated many times. Their endless incarnations have raised their spirits’ vibration, so they automatically show patience and strive to do everything right in their lives. People who are mean, selfish, and egotistic probably haven’t reincarnated as much. That isn’t to say that these people are wicked; they simply haven’t learned all their lessons yet. Think of them as bratty adolescents and the sympathetic ones as the grandparents of the reincarnation process—regardless of their age!”

Dealing with the Dark Side: [Paraphrased]: “Sometimes people are repeatedly evil and abusive, so they’re reincarnated as victims of these things to learn their lesson”

“You find many battered wives opening shelters for those who are going through violent relationships....”

“Guides, or “white lighters,” as they are often called today”

Chapter 2: Angels

“These beautiful beings have always had their place in the craft, but they used to play a secondary role to the more traditional Wiccan gods and goddesses... Today, you won’t find many British witches connecting with the gods and goddesses”

Chapter 4: Magickal Moon

“The moon was worshipped in many early religions as a goddess, and it has always been seen as a feminine symbol”

The Dark Moon:

“Sadly, many people who practice black magick do so at this time”

“You might think that someone working on the darker side of the occult could not influence any spells or rituals that you might be performing, but the collective power mustered by these individuals can cause cosmic havoc: our spells may become confused or simply not work at all. It is a shame, because the brilliance and power of this phase really is incredible, and without the negative manipulation I am sure we witches could do a great deal of good in it.”

Chapter 5: Spells and Candle Magick

Mostly this was a mix of ok info, and subjective info presented as objective fact, but that latter part is the theme of the book.

Chapter 6: Cell Phone Sorcery and Microwave Magick

“I can’t take all the credit for this new way of [cell phone] spell-making. My trusted friend and coauthor, Shawn, helped me”

“I’ll let you in on another little secret: we witches don’t really bother with our cauldrons much these days. We have evolved with the times and we use our microwaves and convection ovens... Any spell that entails mixing or brewing concoctions can easily be done in a microwave. It takes less time and the end results are actually enhanced, mainly because of the powerful electrical energies that the microwave transmits”

Chapter 8: Crystal

“You should wash your crystals once a week or so. Crystals can absorb energies around them, so just as we need to wash to stay clean, you need to wash your crystals. You can put them in the bath with you (to be cleansed of external energies and infused with yours) or simply soak them in a bowl of water” (Nb: A lot of crystals are damaged (or even super-unsafe) in water, which, obviously, is not mentioned at any point)

“If you are feeling on edge, go outside on a dry day with a cup of table salt to a place where you will not be disturbed. Scatter the salt in a large circle around you and place the rose quartz in the center” (Nb: DO NOT put salt on the ground outside!)

Chapter 9: A Witch's Menagerie

This is mostly a bunch of super-subjective collection of things that "witches (objectively/universally) do/believe" that I've mostly never heard of - obviously there are a lot of things I've never heard of, but in a decade, you'd think if every single witch believes/does something, I'd have stumbled across it at some point?

“Okay, so maybe you are not as animal-mad as I am, but a true witch will endeavor to have at least one critter as a companion in their lifetime”

"I may love all animals, and these insects may look very similar to bees, but I have to admit that hornets and wasps are annoying pests”

Chapter 10: Love Wisdom

“For modern witches, effigies have always been considered to be a little primitive, a little on the dark side”

“Every relationship that we enter into is spiritually planned (even the bad ones). It’s decided before we reincarnate who we are meant to share part, or all, of our lives with. This is because every time we venture into a relationship, we learn something from it. If it wasn’t our fate to be with our partners, we would never have been at that particular place at that particular time when we had our first meeting. We wouldn’t have been attracted to them, for starters, so something must have happened to ignite that spark. No matter how difficult some relationships are, it was fate that brought you together”

Chapter 11: Handfastings

So aside from a bunch of vague and mostly fictional/confused history, apparently every wedding/handfasting is different, but that doesn't stop them from laying out every specific 'universal' detail, including the attire, the catering, the gifts, etc, etc, etc...

“In pagan times, rice throwing was believed to transfer the spirit of the fertile grain to the bride and groom, ensuring that they would have a prosperous harvest and a fertile union”

Chapter 13: Gaze into the Future

Just... full of the G-slur, fetishisation and demonisation of Romani stereotypes, make-up history, and 'people in the past were unevolved and unintelligent and luckily we're now so much better in every way' (also a repeated theme)

[Psychic skills and divination aren't my area, so I skipped the rest of the chapters on those topics]

19 Dos and Don’ts about Witchcraft

“These words the Wiccan Rede fulfill: “An ye harm none, do what ye will.” —from “The Wiccan Rede,” anonymous” (ie 'We're Wicca experts but either don't know Doreen Valiente wrote this, or don't want to credit her')

“Most religions follow rules and guidelines, and although Wicca is considered to be a relaxed faith, we also have strict laws that we follow to the letter”

“Just because we can make magickal things appear out of thin air, it doesn’t mean that it’s always the right thing to do”

“There are people the world over who perform black magick because they have been treated badly or are seeking revenge for a wrong. Some are warped with jealousy and wish a bad fate on those more fortunate than themselves, and although it does sound bizarre that in the twenty-first century people are still putting curses on others, it’s really not that uncommon”

“On the other hand, people who use these skills to do harm are just self-interested souls who use magick as a way of gaining control and power over others, using it purely for their own gratification”

“The craft is all about sending out positive intentions”

“On the other hand, your spells could be failing because you are tired or sick. Your aura has to be in tip-top condition if your spell is to succeed” (Sorry, if you're chronically-ill you can't do magic)

The Ten Commandments of Witchcraft:

ALWAYS ENSURE THAT NO OTHER PERSON WILL BE HARMED AS A RESULT OF YOUR MAGICK. To call yourself a witch means that you will always endeavor to do the right thing and send out only love and kindness to others.

KEEP YOUR THOUGHTS FREE OF NEGATIVITY— REMEMBER THE REBOUND EFFECT. Keep in mind that every thought you send out can just as easily bounce off the receiver and be hurled back at you at the speed of light. You created the negative fog, so it belongs to you!

NEVER CAST A SPELL WHEN YOU ARE UPSET OR UNHEALTHY. Funny as it may seem, our thought projections can go haywire if we are cross, unhappy, or sick. Spells may fail to work, or the results may be confusing. Therefore it’s imperative that we be in the right frame of mind and physically healthy before we begin any magick

THINK POSITIVELY. If you smile, then you are more likely to be happy. Every time a miserable thought pops into your head, shake it away and try to think about something nice. Your aura is a magnetic energy field, and if it’s drab or gloomy, you will attract disruptive and depressing situations

CREATE A PEACEFUL, CALM ENVIRONMENT FOR YOUR SPELL CASTING

CALL UPON YOUR ANGELS TO ASSIST YOU

RESPECT EVERYTHING... try as hard as you can to eat all the right foods... Eat badly and you'll feel bad.

WISH FOR MONEY BUT BE CAREFUL OF GREED. If you need to cast spells for material gain…

NEVER INFLUENCE A PERSON’S MIND WITH MAGICK... You could indirectly take that person off the path they are destined to travel and deprive them of lessons they need to learn.... If you’ve reeled them back in, you have interfered with their karma, and you could get your karmic wrist slapped when you eventually pass over into spirit

BELIEVE IN YOURSELF. No amount of magick will work unless you have faith in yourself

Chapter 20: Destiny Is Calling You

“Make a talisman, which is a stronger protector than an amulet”

“Smudge your space and your aura every now and then”

I made a 'Bad Witch Book Bingo', and was genuinely surprised this book only got bingo 3 times 😅

#bad books #bad authors #original content #witchynyx

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myers-meadow · 2 years ago

Text

Lucius Malfoy x fem! reader: That which isn't taught in books

Title: That which isn't taught in books

Pairing: Lucius Malfoy x female librarian reader

Summary: Draco complains about you, the Hogwarts librarian, to his father. This results in the beautiful Lucius Malfoy paying you an unexpected visit. He is rather taken with you, and he shows you things you can't simply learn from books: your place.

Warnings: smut, blowjob, cum, spit, vaginal fingering, degradation, rough kissing, use of 'slut', praise, gloves, Lucius is Lucius and a that's a warning on it's own, consent isn't discussed but reader is into it, manhandling, (suspected) cheating, hair pulling (assumed reader has hair that can be pulled).

Wordcount: 3699

Dividers by by animated-glitter-graphics-n-more and delishlydelightfuldividers.

“Miss __, you must to lend me this book. I need it for class.” Draco Malfoy ordered, pointing to the book on top of the stack on your right. Third years aren’t typically allowed to borrow advanced books on dark magic, so it wasn’t on the shelves for him to take with a reason.

“No,” you simply replied, removing book from the stack and sending it to the topmost shelf with a wave of your wand. “That’s a restricted book and you need a permission slip from the headmaster before borrowing it.”

Draco scoffed. “I know you let Granger use the library outside the allowed hours.”

How could the damned kid know about that? What a menace.

“The book is still restricted.”

“Do you know who my family is?” Draco said, tapping the desk impatiently.

“Yes, I know your parents quite well. We are old friends, in fact,” you said, which was a lie. The Malfoys are well-known, and you’ve run into them before. Unpleasant was the best word for it, and you were glad the moment you didn’t have to deal with them anymore. Narcissa was alright, perfectly poised and therefore polite – but still raised rich and pureblood. Lucius, on the other hand, gave you nightmares that night. Even worse that you woke up wet between your thighs.

Draco scoffed, sending you a nasty look. “We will see about that, miss __.”

You sighed as he turned around and marched away.

It was later that week that the Hogwarts library had a surprise visit from a tall, white-haired man that reminded you so very much of the pest that was Draco Malfoy.

“So this is where the students are expected to borrow their books from,” said the cold voice, heavy with poorly veiled contempt. “Hogwarts seems to spend their funds… otherwise.”

“Good evening, sir,” you started, tone flat. “Have you come here to take a look around? I assure you our collection is larger than it seems here at the front desk.”

He raised an eyebrow, only now looking at you. “Miss __,” and even that alone sounds like he chastised you, “I’ve come here because of what my son told me of your behaviour. You pick on him and single him out, while the rest of the students are allowed to break school rules at will.”

Your shoulders tensed. So he was really here because of that small ordeal. And above all, it pissed you off that he didn’t even feel the need to introduce himself properly. Of course you knew who he was, but that he expected you to still remember him was infuriating.

“I see. Then you should be pleased to know that I don’t allow any student to break the rules, which includes your son. I do not play favourites.”

An amused smile played at the corner of his lip. “Is that so?”

“Yes, sir.” Your tone remained flat. Despite that, it was difficult not to let your eyes wander. Gods, did he dress up this fancy just to give you a stern talking to? He was delicious. With the snake tie pin mirroring the glittering of his cold gaze, the full three piece suit that wouldn’t look out of place at a funeral, and the leather gloves he wore even though he had to cross half the castle to get here.

You continued, taking a deep breath to steel yourself – he noticed, his gaze flickering to your chest. “You may be under the impression, Mr. Malfoy, that professors of this school are easily pressured by empty threats, to give your son a leniency that I refuse to show him. This visit won’t change that, so I’d suggest you save yourself the time.”

He raised an eyebrow, looking down at you past his nose. You were glad for the library desk separating the two of you, or you’d back away from him like a scared animal.

“I do not appreciate your tone,” he said, each word perfectly measured, low and menacing. Your adrenaline spiked, and your knees trembled. He leaned forward, and you fought the urge to take a step back. Even just that thought, of backing of, of yielding to him, he must’ve seen it cross your face, and smirked in response, clearly enjoying the hold he had on you.

A group of Hufflepuffs entered the library, giggling to themselves, until they saw the standoff you were in. “Let’s just come again later,” one suggested, and they left quickly, whispering to each other. You nodded at them, and moved your gaze back to the imposing man in front of you. From this close, you could smell the perfume he wore. Something warm like sandalwood mixed with citrus. Fuck, he was insanely attractive. Touching him would feel like the most luxurious velvet.

“I suggest,” he leaned in even closer over the desk, you felt the warmth of his breath fan your face, “that from now on, you make sure you assist in Draco’s education and let him borrow whatever books he wants.”

“If he has the right permission slip from the headmaster, Draco can borrow any book he likes. Without it, he can’t.” You could barely focus on his words with how close he was. “If you knew the book in question, you’d agree with my approach and be glad that I didn’t have a conversation about Draco’s interest of late.”

“And what book may that be, miss?”

“Forbidden hexes and curses. And he’s practiced some too, already. One may think he’s… a bit too interested in the Dark Arts.” You clacked your tongue and pushed yourself off of the desk, trying to clear your head. “It wasn’t a beginner’s book either.”

Lucius quirked an eyebrow and looked you up and down. “Perhaps we should discuss this matter somewhere more… private.”

His velvety voice made your insides flip in nervous anticipation, which you attempted to calm with little success. So, that approached worked. The value purebloods place on image was such an easy win, but it felt good to hear his tone soften.

“My office is there.”

He moved around the desk and went first, waiting for you to move around him and open the door for him. Once inside, he shut and locked the door, and with a quick wave of his wand, the blinds shut themselves. His small smirk as he looked at you then was nothing short of predatory.

“Draco told me so much about you,” his voice was even more hypnotising than before, and he knew the effect he had on you as you breathed in sharply. He walked around you slowly, taking you in completely. Surely this was another intimidation technique of his, so you force yourself to stand your ground.

“He has?” you echo, not seeing the point of it, but wanting to delay the threats and the fight – and that deliciously wrong feeling of anticipation was building steadily inside your lower belly.

“The librarian,” his voice was smooth as silk, “who is so attractive that it keeps the students from their studies. A Slytherin, but surprisingly, you don’t know who or what is good for you.”

It sounds like he’s insulting you again. He stood still right in front of you, a finger coming to rest on your cheek. The contempt has returned to his expression, along with something else.

“You dress… well. Draco said you looked inappropriate, but he is just a boy. He gets silly ideas too quickly.” Lucius’ voice has softened considerably. The way you looked up at him made you feel like a deer caught in the headlights, not knowing whether to fight, flight or fawn – and the result is that you did nothing.

“Your concern for my appearance is noted, sir,” you managed to say. “Is that why you really came all this way? To make sure your son’s librarian dresses appropriately?”

A small chuckle broke the silence. “I must admit, you are more alluring than he said you were. Perhaps we can solve this disagreement in a more pleasurable manner. If you can learn your place, that is.”

You stared at him. The gloved finger tapping your cheek moved to your lips, slipping between them. The smell of the leather was strong and made your head swim.

“Or should I make it clearer for you? On your knees.” His condescending tone was unlike anything you’ve heard before: alluring, yet cruel. The velvet softness of his voice contrasted with the way he looked down at you past his nose. Such a regal face…

When you didn’t immediately obey, he pushed you down by your shoulders. The floor was cold even through the fabric of your skirt. The tip of his cane tapped your cheek lightly, but it was threat enough.

You gulped. Looking up at him from this angle was a sight to see, his amused expression, the smell of him, the texture of his glove in your hair were as intimidating as they were arousing.

“What’s the matter? I’m sure a big girl like you knows what to do.” His leather clad hand tugged open his belt and ripped open the buttons without a second of hesitation. His eyes glinted darkly with lust. Only when he tugged his cock free from his underwear, did you look away from his eyes. He was gorgeous, pulsing, rigid, the head flushed with blood, with just one teardrop of precum at the slit. Doubting your actions, you reached a hand up to grip him. Warm. Thick, too.

“Are you just going to sit there? Open.”

You obeyed, instinctively, and he groaned lowly as he slid his cock in your waiting mouth. Wetting the underside of his cock with your tongue, you teased the bit of skin just under the head, making it bounce against the roof of your mouth. His breaths came sharply, slowly turning to soft sounds of pleasure. He slid in and out as you sucked him, moving your lips along his shaft. Clearly he held back in showing just how good you made him feel – and your determination grew. You teased the head with vigour, and before you could settle on a rhythm, he forced himself in deep. Gagging and trying to swallow around him, he groaned, and the sound went straight to your core. Shifting your thighs together to relieve the throbbing ache wasn’t close to enough. Lucius set a punishing pace for himself, deep and fast. In and out, and his length grew wetter and wetter with saliva and precum.

“What a pretty girl you are,” praised Lucius, in between hissed breaths and stifled groans. He held your head back by the hair then, and pulled your lips from his cock.

“You were made for this. Know just how to please your superior.”

A cruel gleam shone in his eye as he looked down on you, and he rubbed his cock over your face, coating it in your spit. His words rang true in a way that made you whimper pathetically. The humiliation burned. You broke out in a heated sweat, but the terrible empty throbbing of your cunt was enough for you to stay put. He pulls your head back on his cock, immediately pushing into your throat again.

“Just like that, sweetheart,” he groans. The satisfied sadism in his expression has you dripping. “What great things even you can accomplish if you receive the right guidance.”

His ‘guidance’ came in the form of an insistent hand fisted in your hair as he fucked your face, without any care for your comfort. Now that his length was wet and slimy, it went in easier, but it still made you gag. You tried your best to hollow your cheeks, wanting to prove to him how good you could be. A small part of you, at the back of your mind, was disgusted by your actions and more so by how easily Lucius exploited your submissive streak. Yet, when you glanced up and saw the pleasure etched into his face, that voice quieted down. He looked sinfully good from this angle, and you enjoyed it through tearful eyes as he pushed at your gag reflex once again. In, out, slower, feeling the drag of your tongue on the underside of his cock, and moaning filth behind clenched teeth. Then, having enough of your tongue, his pace increased, pushing into your deeper and without mercy.

Eventually he let out a satisfied groan, and he pulled out from your mouth, drool spilling onto your blouse, and he stroked himself to completion, groaning harshly as he came. Hot, sticky ropes of cum painted your face. You gasped at how unexpected of and end it was, face burning at how degrading it was to sit there and take it, stunned at the audacity of this man. It may be true that you craved this from the moment you first met him, but that didn’t change that it made you feel both disgusting and desired like nothing else could.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it, filthy girl?” His gloved hand twisted in your hair, angling your face so he could admire you. “You will leave this as it is. Merlin, you enjoy this, don’t you? Made such a mess of yourself. Filthy fucking slut.”

His words came through gritted teeth, and you feel the strength he’s holding back as he forced you to stand by your hair. You yelped. The cum left a nasty pulling sensation on the skin as it started to dry. You felt used, so used, and his disgust showed clearly on his face. Nevertheless, he pulled you close, forcing your head to his and he kissed you, with open mouth against your cum covered lips. Without a care that his cum smeared his face as well as yours, and the bitter aftertaste that it left in his mouth, he devoured you hungrily.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered, voice rough. You obeyed. The moan he let out as he pressed his lips to yours again was the most lewd sound you’d ever heard. Your tongues entwined, the taste of his seed mingling with saliva. It was gross, but in the best way. You made him like this, was the thought that shot through your mind, you made him gross and lose control. And you did all of that just by being you.

Teeth clashed and you winced, but he barely seemed to notice. He was so rough, so uncoordinated, yet it was the hottest thing you ever felt. Spirals and sparks of heat radiated in your belly. The hand in your hair let go, to great relief, and wrapped around your throat instead. The kiss grew fiercer still. He consumed you. All of you. His teeth tugged at your lips, nipping harshly enough for small stings of pain, but they were soothed over with the warmth of his tongue. His nose pressed against your face with how far he leant into you, how harshly he pulled your face against his.

This hunger was a world away from his earlier disgust.

When he let go, his pupils were blown wide, his cheeks flushed, passionate and heated. He wiped the cum from his nose and lips, and licked it from his gloved fingers. Your eyes fluttered just at the sight of him. And it was you who caused this, who brought out this side of him, all dishevelled, messy, stained… All for you.

“It seems you do know your place well, dear librarian. How about a reward, then? Do you think you deserve one?”

All you could do was nod.

He pushed you back until your ass hit your desk, and he lifted you up until you were seated. “Legs wide. Good girl.” He spread your thighs as he stood between them. His gloved fingers dragged over the sensitive skin of your innermost thigh. You were positively throbbing. Have you ever felt arousal this strong while completely untouched? You hated him for it.

“Please, Mr. Malfoy,” you whimpered, already growing impatient.

Tugging at the cotton of your panties, he said, not a question, but an order: “Why don’t you take those off for me.”

You stumbled to comply. Before you could say anything, he silenced you by sliding two fingers in your mouth, and you wet them without being prompted to. The leather tasted like his cum, bitter. The texture was pleasant on your tongue. He hummed, pleased, as he slid his fingers out.

“Who knew you’d be such a quick student? But then again, they do say librarians have a wide variety of knowledge.” And his finger found your clit. “How’s that?”

You whined sharply as he increased the pressure, but didn’t move his fingers, still depriving me of the friction I craved.

“Or rather here?” and he slid his fingers to your slit, dipping in, before moving back up, bringing the slick with them. “Aren’t you a wet little slut.”

His middle finger slid in to the knuckle, with embarrassing ease. You moaned softly, brow furrowing. It felt right. So right. So perfect. This is what you were made for, for such a feeling, of being filled, of being used by a man as beautiful as Lucius Malfoy. Your eyes locked and your heart skipped a beat at the intensity of his stare.

“What a sensitive young woman you are,” he said, voice soft, yet with a darkness to it. “No one’s touched you this good before. And no one will, after.”

He pulled his finger almost out, then pushed it back in, setting himself a slow and deep rhythm, curling it deep inside. Each time he hit that spot inside, your gasps and moans became a little higher, a little more desperate. You clung onto his shoulders, and he leaned so close your noses touched.

“You look quite beautiful like this… Who knew it would be this fun to put a librarian in her place?” it almost seemed he talked to himself moreso than to you. One finger became two, but his pace remained the same. Steady, in, out, in, curling, out. The drag of his gloves made it even better, and when you looked down, they were wet and creamy from how wet you were. You whimpered as he followed your line of sight, and slammed back in harder. And harder. Now that his pace was steadily increasing, so were the sensations, growing hotter quick. He tipped you over the edge and you nearly screeched – but he kept going, the orgasm prolonging itself until you reached a second high, so high it was painful - and he moaned along with you, slowing but not pulling out. When he finally stilled, both of your breaths were sharp, as though you’d just ran up five flights of stairs. He kissed you again, messily, as he pumped in and out just a few more times, enjoying the twitches of your aftershocks.

“What a good girl,” he purred, and he pulled out. The feeling of emptiness was jarring and you clenched around nothing. His fingers slipped past your lips, and you sucked them clean obediently. “What a good girl,” he repeated, with emphasis and a fond undertone. “Perhaps there’s hope for you yet.”

Even after coming down from the orgasm, the hazy feeling stayed, making your head swim as you looked at the man in front of you. He kissed you again, and it was borderline uncomfortable with the drying cum still on your face. He was softer, a wet kiss, he was savouring you.

“I dearly hope this isn’t the last I’ll see of you, my sweet librarian,” he said, and before he left, with a wave of his wand, he grabbed your panties and left with a last, lingering look over his shoulder. “Although I expect you to behave from now on.”

Before you went to sleep that night, you replayed what happened over and over again, and despite the unsatisfiable desire, there was also anger. This man has a wife! You were livid. How could he do this? Not even the degradation – but that you let yourself be treated like that by a man who has a wife!

The next day, during your lunchbreak, the largest bouquet of roses you had ever seen was delivered to the library. There must’ve been more flowers in it than in the entire flower shop in Hogsmeade. The ridiculous arrangement sat on the desk, crowding over all the books. The delivery witch had you sign for them, but refused to tell you who they were from. You shook your head, as you sank down on your chair, staring at them. You didn’t have a vase big enough.

While you were preparing and cutting the stems, you found a note. ‘L. M.’ Was all it said and it filled you with annoyance.

Lucius. Your eyes shot fire at the mention of his name. How dare he play this off in this way. What a condescending gesture, to buy you roses just to stake some sort of claim on you. To remind you of what the two of you did the day before, to keep you in line. Resolutely, you throw the note in the paper bin. Perhaps you should send him a note too, and tell him to save those roses for his wife.

Now what? This many wouldn’t even fit in any garbage bin - not without attracting a horrible amount of attention. Perfectly pristine flowers thrown away would cause enough drama, more than keeping them would. So you, sigh, and continue trimming the stems, getting your anger out with each snip. There was enough to set a few flowers in small vases, or mugs, when those ran out, on each table in the library. The anger had faded by the time it was done, and you looked out over the suddenly very colourful library. Who will water them each morning? You’d never get around to your actual job like this.

What was left of the encounter, was that nagging feeling, of being special. Special enough to have watched such a powerful man as Lucius Malfoy become undone. You smiled softly as you stacked several returned books in your arms. Perhaps this wasn’t over yet.

#lucius malfoy #lucius malfoy x reader #lucius malfoy smut #lucius malfoy fanfic #lucius malfoy fanfiction #lucius malfoy x you #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #lucius malfoy imagine #harry potter #death eaters #lucius malfoy x female reader

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dakusan · 21 days ago

Note

heyy its 🦋againnn

so,,I think Tumblr took my previous request to the grave (I sent it a week or more ago, I think), but it doesn't matter right now.

tomorrow's my birthday! Can I order you some Vampire Skz? Delicious and so addictive that it'll make my head spin all day? I don't have an idea in mind, but if I ever have one, I'll send it as I'm slowly going crazy.

I hope you have a great day!

🦋🦋🦋ANON. BABY. BLOODLING. TUMBLR MAY HAVE BURIED YOUR ASK, BUT I’M DIGGING IT UP WITH CLAWS AND FANGS BECAUSE—

🎂🖤🩸HAPPY. MF. BIRTHDAY. 🩸🖤🎂 Today is your day. The moon is tilted in your favor. The blood tastes sweeter. The night is watching. The vampires are circling.

And since you placed an order for Vampire SKZ: Head-Spinning Edition™? Oh honey. You’ve unlocked the chef’s special.

Tonight, the boys are starved. They’ve been waiting. For you. 🕯️

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

Bang Chan

Gifts you: A limited edition Bvlgari Serpenti necklace, coiled in white gold with rubies for eyes—enchanted to warm whenever he’s thinking about you. And a black leather journal embossed with your initials in gold. Only you and him can read what’s written inside.

Birthday vibe: Puts everyone else to work. The party is seamless, custom-scented, candlelit, and guarded by his best men. But when you’re alone? He drops to his knees, kisses your wrist, and whispers: “Happy birthday, my love. You live. Therefore I exist.”

⸺⟡⸺

Lee Minho

Gifts you: A Cartier diamond panther ring, but altered—its eyes are opals enchanted to glow red when danger’s near. He slips it on your finger with velvet gloves and no expression. Also: an antique dagger you once admired in passing. He remembered.

Birthday vibe: Pretends it’s “just another night”, just standing in the kitchen together until he pulls you in randomly and starts dancing with you. No music. Just you and him. Low voice in your ear: “You age. I remain. But tonight, we’re both timeless.”

⸺⟡⸺

Seo Changbin

Gifts you: A blacked-out Hublot Big Bang watch, custom-designed with blood-red numerals and your name etched inside. Also: a solid gold bangle engraved with the word "Mine."

Birthday vibe: Roars your name across the room when you arrive. He lifts you up—literally—and spins you. Gets very drunk off synthetic blood. Guards your plate, your gifts, and you like a loyal war dog in Gucci.

⸺⟡⸺

Hwang Hyunjin

Gifts you: A Chanel couture choker with obsidian and pearl. One-of-a-kind. "Like you." Also: a bespoke painting of you resting in a garden, flowers blooming around you. It's heavenly. And majestic.

Birthday vibe: Whisks you to a greenhouse at midnight, covered in candles and vines. Dances with you under the moon. Kisses your palms. Says: “The world is ugly, but you’re the thing it got right.”

⸺⟡⸺

Han Jisung

Gifts you: A Tiffany diamond ear cuff, charmed to deliver soft telepathic messages only from him (like “You look hot,” “I miss you,” and “I’m so feral rn”). Also: limited-edition vinyls of your fave artists—and a playlist titled “🦋BITE ME.”

Birthday vibe: Crashes through the apartment like a gremlin with balloons, throws glitter everywhere, and demands a dance battle at 2AM. Later? Sings you a lullaby with your name in every verse.

⸺⟡⸺

Lee Felix

Gifts you: A Van Cleef & Arpels charm bracelet, each charm customized with a shared memory. One of them glows faintly—his favourite one. Also: a tiny plush bat wearing a crown. Handmade.

Birthday vibe: Makes you pancakes with chocolate syrup in the shape of hearts. Writes a 3-page birthday letter in calligraphy. Hugs you for 5 full minutes. Tells you you’re his favourite miracle.

⸺⟡⸺

Kim Seungmin

Gifts you: A Piaget rose gold locket that opens to reveal a spell: when you whisper his name, he appears beside you within seconds. Also: a bespoke library card engraved in silver that unlocks his secret archive.

Birthday vibe: Dressed immaculately. Appears unbothered. Then pulls you aside and gives a speech that leaves you sobbing. Hands you a handkerchief. Smirks. “Happy birthday, trouble.”

⸺⟡⸺

Yang Jeongin

Gifts you: A custom diamond waist chain with his initial at the center. Also: a rare signed first edition of your favourite book, sealed in protective blood magic.

Birthday vibe: Blushes when he sees you. Gets you blackout drunk. Ends up curled against you in silk, whispering that if anyone ever hurts you, he will end bloodlines. All of them. While holding your hand sweetly.

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I hope the entire universe bends in your favour today, my darling 🦋anon 💋🩸🕯️

#ask dakusan #skz #skz x reader #vampire!skz series #vampire!skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader

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edges-of-night · 2 years ago

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Imagine where your first kiss with LotR characters would be ♡

Thank you for all your positive responses to my first post! I hope you’ll enjoy this one as well, it was a lot of fun to write!

･ﾟ✧ Aragorn.

Aragorn would make your first kiss absolutely romantic. He would take you to a moonlit spot he found in the forest, where you’d listen to a brook and the night birds as he holds your hand. Aragorn kisses you without expecting or demanding anything in return. He is content as long as he can be with you!

･ﾟ✧ Arwen.

Arwen would playfully guide you to her favourite tower in Rivendell by your hand. She’d smile brightly over her shoulder as you ascend the artful staircase to be closer to the night sky. She’d stargaze with you there, maybe show you a book or two about the Elvish constellations that she keeps up there. You would kiss over such a book, or maybe against the white balustrade.

･ﾟ✧ Boromir.

Boromir is well aware of his charms. When it comes to your first kiss, he teases and plays with you. However, once you share a quiet moment in the ruins of Osgiliath, he gives in to your advances. Leaning against a stone column, the usually shameless man grows silent against the comforting touch you provide.

･ﾟ✧ Elrond.

Elrond keeps his house very orderly. He takes it upon himself to sort the library, for example. Since you offered to help him, you have been working all afternoon. “This is the rest,” you’d say with a tired smile and a sigh as you set back the last books. Charmed by your blush of exhaustion in the golden sunlight, Elrond would smooth your hair back and lean in for a thank you kiss.

･ﾟ✧ Éomer.

Éomer would kiss you in the wide grasslands of the Riddermark. Your horseback ride has been interrupted by a sudden storm – the weather here is erratic – forcing you to find shelter in a rock formation. There, Éomer would make sure that you’re alright and dry, and as you’d touch, his heart would skip a beat at your damp hair and puffed lips. Being the man that he is, he’d kiss you passionately then, however offering you to “keep this between us and the rain” should you desire so.

･ﾟ✧ Éowyn.

Éowyn loves the hills and cliffs of Edoras. There, she has a secret hiding spot where she used to play as a kid. Now, she uses it for romantic rendezvous’, as she tells you with a smirk. You joke around a bit: “So, I’m your romantic tryst?” – “Perhaps you are!” – before you both lean in for a playful kiss that soon turns into something more romantic, truly.

･ﾟ✧ Faramir.

If it was up to Faramir, he’d kiss you anywhere – on the market in Minas Tirith, in the forests of Ithilien, or his castle after the Ring War. However, he couldn’t have chosen a better place than you: a flowery meadow where you sat down with drinks and books to tell each other fantastical stories about magic and dragons. While you lie in his arms, all you need to do is look up to find that Faramir wasn’t even reading the book you held up and instead just admired you. And then, cupping his cheek and gently guiding him toward you is just too tempting!

･ﾟ✧ Frodo.

Frodo would kiss you in front of your house in Hobbiton, having accompanied you home after a party at the Green Dragon. He’s a gentleman, so he’d always offer to walk home together. Maybe you’re both a bit tipsy, but either way, you end up leaning against a quiet corner of your house, hidden away in the night shadows, where you share a kiss that Frodo blissfully smiles into.

･ﾟ✧ Galadriel.

Galadriel would know you’d want to kiss her even before you yourself were really aware of it. One day, while sitting by a brook near her abode in Lothlórien, she’d grin at you because she knows very well the reason for your blush. She’d offer you to sit by her side, or maybe even on her lap, and converse with you before brushing your hair out of your face to finally give you that kiss!

･ﾟ✧ Gandalf.

Gandalf would finally kiss you after a long day of studying. You’ve been sitting in Minas Tirith’s library for hours, pondering ancient magic and recent developments. Once you call it a day, he’d look up and smile at you, like he just remembered something. Then he’d wish you goodnight. “But first…” You’d be lying if you said you haven’t seen it coming from a mile away, but of course you let him have his joy anyway!

･ﾟ✧ Gimli.

While usually brash and charming, Gimli is all quiet when it comes to asking you for a kiss while staying in your home. If he was wearing his helmet, he’d take it off, needless to say! You know he meant it to be a chaste forehead kiss, but you like to give your Dwarf a kiss worthy of a song – one that renders him speechless for at least a day. He’d definitely stumble over the doorstep on his way out!

･ﾟ✧ Haldir.

It is needless to say that Haldir would deny any desire to share a kiss with you until the very last second. After protecting the borders of Lothlórien from orcs, he is badly wounded and in dire need of your healing skills. Though he is ashamed of the vulnerability, he cannot help but marvel at your beauty and compassion while you’re immersed in your task. He’d guise the kiss he gives you in the moonlight as a shameful repayment, but by now you can read his marble face so well that you know better!

･ﾟ✧ Legolas.

Legolas would kiss you swiftly and lightly, like sunshine does when you step outside on a summer morning. Out in Mirkwood, he’d swirl around you like a butterfly to keep your fears away. You’d heard stories about the dark forest, but he knows just how to keep your mind off of it. “There,” he’d smile after your kiss, just shakily enough for you to realise he means this seriously after all, “the fear is gone.”

･ﾟ✧ Merry.

Merry would make a pompous scene out of kissing you. He’d announce it loudly, standing on a table in the Green Dragon. He’d get a blast out of your reaction, whether you’re blushing in embarrassment or laughing brightly at his joy. When he does join you by your chair and pecks your flushing face, the crowd cheers you on!

･ﾟ✧ Pippin.

Pippin would kiss you on a festive night. You’d run through the strawberry fields all night, always hunting the colourful fireworks sent by Gandalf from the hills above. After you break down beneath a tree, laughing and exhausted, Pippin would exclaim something like, “I could kiss you right now!” and quickly lean in.

･ﾟ✧ Sam.

Sam keeps a mental list of things he’d like to say to you someday. However, he’s so insecure he doesn’t even dream he’d ever get the chance. But when you’re sitting in the shadows of the sunflower field on a bright summer day, he’d want to seize that opportunity and babble in his adorably timid but sincere manner. But, being embarrassed by his own fumbling, he’d eventually go, “Maybe I oughtta kiss you instead, y’know?” Far be it from you to object!

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thereoncewasagirlnamedjane · 6 months ago

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DECK THE HALLS.

PAIRING — ransom drysdale x f!reader

CONTENTS — one-shot; coarse language; fluff; xmas/holidays; mutual disdain but it’s actually just mutual not-so-secret shameful pining

SUMMARY — For the first time, you think that working for Linda Drysdale the night before Christmas might not be such a bad thing after all.

WORD COUNT — 3.4k

NOTES — tbh i’m not very happy with how this turned out but whatever, i’ve been stressing about this for way too long because it’s my first ransom fic, and i’m just done lol. shout out to @intrepidacious though for chatting with me about this fic all winter while i struggled, doing her best to motivate me and letting me vent my writing frustrations through the entire process. ilysm nika 💕

✩ masterlist ✩ library blog

Christmastime is here Happiness and cheer Fun for all that children call Their favourite time of yea—

You angrily jam the pad of your finger against the speaker’s power button, cutting off the quaint holiday music and plummeting Linda Drysdale’s normally busy real estate office into silence.

For someone who consistently prides themselves on being so sensible and logical, you sure can be stupid sometimes.

Because you drag a free office chair towards you, anchoring it against the wall as best as you can before climbing on top of it. You teeter precariously, cursing under your breath as you strain to loop a gaudy red and green garland over the push pins above the office doorway.

Linda, however, is even stupider, asking you to put up these god awful decorations before going home, not even providing you with so much as a step stool to do so—even though you obviously aren’t tall enough to reach on your own, even though she said you didn’t have to work overtime today (why, thank you Linda, considering it’s Christmas Eve and all), even though it was already 4:45 when she asked.

One phone call would be all it took to have OSHA crawling up her ass, but because you were only ever a badass in your own head, long after the conversation was over and there was no longer anything you could do about it, you just nodded meekly at your boss instead of telling her exactly where you thought she could shove her precious decorations.

Besides, she’d probably walk away with nothing more than a slap on her wrist anyway—if that.

“A bit to the left, Cindy Lou Who,” comes a voice, the low dulcet baritones that are the bane of your existence, like a persistent under-the-skin itch you can’t ever seem to scratch. You take a deep stabilizing breath upon hearing the nickname, a heat flaring in your cheeks that has nothing to do with the whiskey-spiked hot chocolates you’ve been secretly sipping all day.

You shoot him a withered glare over your shoulder. Ransom, the devil-spawn of your she-devil boss, is lounging lazily in your chair, leaning back with his arms casually linked over his abdomen as he observes your efforts to stay balanced and graceful.

Trust the smug little brat to show up tonight of all nights, when your patience is already wearing thin. No doubt he’s just here to piss you off before swanning over to the posh holiday party happening at his mother’s place tonight—one you’ve never been invited to despite all your years working for Linda, by the way—while you trudge home to a dark and empty studio apartment, with not even so much as a goldfish to welcome you back.

Ransom just smirks back at you through a mouthful of white chocolate chips and macadamia nuts, his hand already rummaging for another cookie from the package he’s stolen right out of the bottom drawer of your desk.

You release a huff of frustration.

There he sits, without a care in the world in his perfectly tailored wool coat and immaculately styled hair that somehow remains untouched by the howling winter wind outside, looking like he’s just stepped out of an issue of GQ.

He doesn’t deserve it, you lament, his coat already starting to pill at the undersides of the sleeves and his sweater probably just a tug at one loose strand away from unravelling completely.

Whoops. You almost fall off the chair for the fifth time since you started this ridiculous endeavour, trying to shake off the mental image of a very shirtless Ransom, tangled in a web of soft white yarn.

What? You can hate someone down to their grimy little bones and still think they’re hot.

Besides, the devil wouldn’t be the devil if he weren’t tempting, would he?

“A real piece of work… the both of you…” you mutter to yourself now, your colourful vocabulary back in full working order now that Linda is holed away in her office and well out of earshot. “She could cut me some slack, you know… Christmas, for crying out loud… and I haven’t eaten all day!”

The asshole nepo-baby just peers up at you past the phone he’s been holding up in front of his face, blinking lazily and not offering any kind of response or assistance—not that you’d expected him to.

“Right, I forgot who I was talking to,” you speak slowly and deliberately, like you’re explaining something rather complicated to a small child. “You see, us humans need to eat food regularly for sustenance.”

“Wow,” Ransom deadpans, his voice muffled through cookie crumbs.

“Yeah, it is terribly inconvenient,” you shrug exaggeratedly, “but not all of us can subsist on the shards of broken souls and children’s nightmares, can we?”

“Calling me the devil again?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You’re so original; how about you get a new thing?”

“Don’t you have some place to be?” You sneer, your grip tightening on the garland, the plastic biting into your palms as you twist a string of fairy lights around the rest of it. “Why the fuck are you even here?”

It’s a perfectly valid question. Linda is always threatening to cut her son off, but that hasn’t prevented him from skipping out on work as much as possible and galavanting around the city, maxing out her credit cards every chance he gets.

But you know she’ll never actually follow through; He shows himself here just often enough to keep her from seriously considering it, doing his small part to show off a carefully crafted picture for the masses—showing the scions of Boston’s wealthiest family in a united front.

And if there’s one thing Ransom likes more than he hates his family or earning an honest wage, it’s the weight of green lining the deep but frayed pockets of his expensive designer pants.

That shiny Drysdale veneer is all that matters, after all, and you know very well that Ransom’s only real job is to keep it nice and polished. But you’ve been working long enough at this soul-sucking place to notice the telltale signs, to see the cracks beneath the varnish.

The way you swear you see a flicker of something that looks a lot like dread whenever Linda calls his name.

The way his signature smirk twitches with just a hint of irritation whenever some angry coworker, once again passed over for a long overdue promotion in favour of giving Ransom a hefty allowance bonus, calls him a talentless, hopeless, literal son of a bitch.

The way he cracks those self-deprecating jokes about how the only real ambition he has in life is finding new ways to disappoint his relatives, and squander as much of the family fortune as he possibly can.

It’s no surprise, really, that Ransom’s turned out the way he has. You’ve heard the way they all talk about him sometimes, his family seemingly oblivious to your working-class existence.

Never mind the fact that whenever you happen to glance over at him, Ransom’s eyes are almost always on you—watching and assessing with that same inscrutable expression on his face.

Not that you pay close attention or anything.

Not that you care, either.

And never will you admit that it unnerves the hell out of you, almost like he’s trying to see through you—right down to the restless person who hides beneath a false bravado, a sarcastic sense of humour, and mountains of paperwork piled up high on your desk.

The feeling of being seen, so terrible and stirring at the same time.

And yet, you shiver, there’s something about it that rivets you. Something electric, like a live wire running just beneath your skin. It’s the feeling you get when he looks at you with those icy blue eyes, his expression going from scathing to almost inquisitive within seconds, when the two of you are trading jabs and insults like his mother isn’t the one who signs your paycheques.

If you are carbon, then he’s the igniting flame.

But you know better, don’t you? Ransom is trouble, plain and simple—the kind with zero direction in life, the kind with a new girl on his arm every week, leaving them to wake up in the mornings to cold bed sheets and memories of promises he’d never intended to keep.

You will die a fiery death before you come another notch on his bedpost. Not that you even care whether he thinks of you that way at all, because even the idea of doing that with Ransom is—

Shit. You shiver again.

You’re playing with fire by even thinking about him at all, even though you feel the incredibly annoying pull of his presence like a magnet, even though you know you need to stay as far away from him as possible, and even though you are very keenly aware that there’s something here.

It looms large yet goes unacknowledged whenever your eyes lock, when he’s looking at you like he wants to bury you and devour you at the same time, when you’re itching with the knowledge that you’re only keeping him at as much of a distance as you can physically stand.

Why else haven’t you told him yet, in no uncertain terms, to fuck right off?

Because there’s a part of you that can’t help but wonder what it would be like to let yourself burn—to feel the heat of that passion you can see in his eyes that he never seems to give into, to feel whatever warmth he might muster from beneath the complicated layers of that thing beating in his chest, to feel him next to you as that terrible something you won’t ever name finally erupts and consumes everything in its path.

Ugh. You absolutely loathe yourself for it, and it makes you want to bash your forehead repeatedly against the wall.

“Someone’s going on the naughty list,” Ransom snickers, the sound infuriatingly close now. You do your best not to startle at the new proximity; he’s put his phone away, unfolded himself from your chair with that unexpectedly languid grace, crossing the room to toss your now empty package of cookies into the trash. “And is that any way to speak to a valued coworker?”

“You? Valued? Coworker?”

“Oh, don’t be jealous, Cindy Lou,” he chides, leaning against the edge of an empty desk barely a step away, crossing his arms over his broad chest, then lowering his voice to whisper conspiratorially, “I hear it’s a sin.”

“Jealous?” You laugh humourlessly, snorting in a way that is decidedly very unladylike. “Of what? The fact that you’ve never worked a day in your life and have the soft white hands of a geisha?”

“Oh yeah? Been thinking about my hands a lot, have you?” He smirks again, and you bite back an exasperated moan—er, groan.

“Namely,” you say sarcastically, turning away from him and reaching up for a particularly high spot. “Breaking all the feeble little bones in your tiny rat-like claws, preferably with a nice sturdy lump of coal.”

“I’m not the one who’s gone on a rampage,” Ransom gestures to the office, now adorned with shiny little baubles, bundles of sparkly tinsel, and rolls of satin ribbon, “and vandalized the office.”

“Vandal—it looks festive, you heartless ghoul!” You whip around to glare at him again, momentarily forgetting your unstable position. But instead of rolling away from the wall and taking you with it, the chair beneath you stays firmly in place. Confused, you glance down to see Ransom’s outstretched feet casually braced against the legs.

Your head snaps up so quickly you think you might get whiplash, eyes narrowing accusatorially only to see him looking away, feigning nonchalance despite the fact that his ears are turning red.

Blood rushes to your cheeks, a traitorous warmth spreading through them. You curse mentally for the umpteenth time, feeling the corners of your perfidious mouth threatening to curve up into a smile.

The bar really is in hell, isn’t it?

“You…” you squeak, clearing your throat a few times to get your voice back to normal. “It’s five. You should go get your mother now.”

“Why, am I distracting you?” Ransom replies, tucking his hands into his pockets and still not making eye contact. “And don’t rush me. I’d rather eat glass than sit through another one of Linda’s fuckin’ Christmas parties.”

“Right, because of your repellant personality?” You quip only half-sarcastically.

“So I’m told,” he drawls, but strangely he sounds more pleased than offended by your observation. “But then again, you’re no picnic either, are you Cindy?”

“Excuse me?” You finally climb off the chair, the last of the garland securely in place. You ignore those stupid feelings stirring inside you at the sight of him retracting his legs a second too slow, and only when both your feet are firmly on the floor.

“You can’t tell me you work so hard because you like your job,” he chortles, his smirk twisting into something just a tiny bit meaner this time. “Aw, sweetheart, do you not have any friends?”

You snort so loud it almost hurts, trying not to focus on just how much you and Ransom have in common—a fact he also seems content to leave unaddressed. “Oh, like you do?”

The mental image of Ransom sitting in his mother’s living room, laughing and sharing wine with a bunch of people in front of a roaring fire like he isn’t a raging sociopath makes you shudder.

“Although, I guess I am curious,” you relent with an inquisitive tilt of your head, ignoring the weight of his heavy gaze on your back as you rummage through the last of the decorations.

“Hm, do tell,” you hear him chuckle.

“About Christmas, you bumbling idiot,” you retort, rolling your eyes. “Can’t picture you and Linda decorating a tree or opening presents together.”

“Okay, that’s not even funny,” he grumbles, his expression twisting into something sour.

“Never? Not even when you were a kid?” You ask before you can stop yourself. Dangerous territory. You know too much about his personal life as it is, and this would only humanize him and that’s the very last thing you want.

“Sometimes,” he admits after a few seconds of agonizing silence, his voice uncharacteristically quiet, your eyes meeting, as always, when you look up at him. “Only ever at Harlan’s.”

You stare, unsure what to do with the underlying hint of something in his voice that doesn’t really belong. Harlan is the only person in his family you actually like, who exudes warmth and care even towards a spoiled and ungrateful grandson, and it takes you a moment to realize that the thing in Ransom’s voice might be affection.

It’s alien and unnerving, to say the least, but you still feel a traitorous tug at your heart strings.

“I can’t picture you as a kid,” you say, somehow managing to keep your voice from trembling as you quickly change the subject. Sweet Christmases with his adoring grandpa shouldn’t be something you associate with this overgrown man-child. And even if it is, it doesn’t change the fact that Ransom is a giant, gaping asshole. “I just see you, but… smaller.”

“And I bet you were just a naive little princess,” he smirks when you glare at him, “doting parents, thoughtful presents, cookies for Santa—spoiled in your own way.”

“Oh, don’t get it twisted,” you shake your head, putting up a defensive hand, “we aren’t sharing. That’s not what this is.”

“But you know what they say, Cindy,” he says as he leans in closer, stopping just inches away, so close you can smell the lingering scent of cinnamon and nutmeg on his breath, mingling with the saccharine aroma of peppermint and artificial pine clinging to his sweater. “Sharing is caring.”

His eyes blaze in an unspoken challenge, but before you can do anything else, like maybe start thinking that the bad idea that’s been plaguing you ever since you met this infernal man isn’t such a bad idea after all, the sound of Linda’s voice cuts through the air, as sharp as the diamonds she wears on her fingers.

“What are you two doing?”

The spell is broken, and Ransom looks away with that same infuriating smile that makes you both want to punch and ki—

“Hello, Mother,” Ransom all but sneers.

You step away with considerable effort, wringing your hands in front of you. Linda narrows her eyes in thinly-veiled suspicion, but doesn’t say anything as she begins walking towards you.

Ransom steps in front of you, shoving his hands into his pockets and jingling his keys, “We’d better get going. Your chariot awaits.”

“Have a nice evening, Mrs. Drysdale,” you pipe up, watching nervously as her eyes sweep across the office and your carefully placed decorations with cool indifference. She nods slightly and you breathe a sigh of relief; that’s as close to a thank you as you’ll ever get.

“Ransom, be a dear and go start the car,” Linda says, urging him towards the door with a sweep of her hand. Her son hesitates for only a millisecond, not even looking back as he turns on his heels and leaves.

Only you notice that his hands are clenched at his sides.

“Merry Christmas, dear,” she smiles tightly as she hands you an envelope likely containing your holiday bonus, and you snap back to attention. You take it from her with a quiet thank you, but then her smile quickly turns into a stern frown. “But don’t make a habit of having food delivered here.”

“Food?” You repeat, your brows coming together in confusion. Linda puts on her fur coat, pointing a single gloved finger at the doors. There is a delivery person standing on the other side of the glass, lifting and pointing at a plastic bag heavy with takeout containers.

“Air the place out before you leave,” Linda says as she breezes past him, not even turning back while she lifts a hand in dismissal.

Confused, you follow in her tracks, staring after her as she makes a dissatisfied face at Ransom’s car pulled right up next to the curb. You see him roll his eyes, leaning over to unlock and push the door open for her. Linda doesn’t look too thrilled, but steps in anyway. They drive away, a hint of a smile on Ransom’s face even though it looks like Linda’s already started in on him with her usual longwinded lectures.

You tell the delivery boy you didn’t order anything, but he looks just as puzzled. He checks the receipt and says your name, the office address, which you confirm are correct. He then recites the order: scallion pancakes, rice noodle rolls, steamed crystal dumplings, and a small black sesame latte—your standing order from your favourite restaurant in Chinatown, reserved for nights when you were working late.

“It’s already paid for,” he says, “you might as well take it.”

You do, locking the doors once he leaves and set the bag down onto a nearby desk. Before you’ve even untied it and opened the containers to check their contents, the grin that’s been brewing all night finally breaks free.

Because there’s only a handful of people in the world who know you’re here at the moment, but only one who knows you haven’t eaten yet today, and who knows that despite having permission to leave for the night, you’ll probably settle in for another few hours of tedious paperwork.

Still, you finish every last crumb of your dinner feeling lighter than you have all week.

Maybe you’ll ask him next time, despite all the reasons you probably shouldn’t, whatever happened to sharing is caring?—even if it sounds like an invitation.

And maybe you feel cheeky enough to send him a quick email before logging off, cackling to yourself when he finally fires back a scathing reply a few hours later, likely still sitting in a room full of people just like his mother, trying not to be absolutely miserable.

From: “El Diablo” <[email protected]> To: Reception <[email protected]> Subject: RE: Merry Christmas Oh fuck off, I don’t know what you’re talking about. ——————— From: Reception <[email protected]> To: “El Diablo” <[email protected]> Subject: Merry Christmas …and thanks for dinner, Drysdale.

And if, when you’re finally home long after the midnight hour, you’re tucked into bed feeling full and warm with the temptation to raise your lips into a smile as you drift off to sleep?

Well.

That’s really nobody’s business but your own, is it?

fin.

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#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fluff #ransom drysdale x f!reader #ransom drysdale #chris evans character fanfiction #christmas fluff

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stargazedwinchester · 6 months ago

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Paper Rings ♡ Sam

Summary: Sam has a surprise for you. Word Count: 988 ❝I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings❞ Based off of Paper Rings by Taylor, my Tayseries masterlist is here

“C’mere,” Sam says, barely above a whisper. You place your hand in his, and he slips a paper ring on your ring finger. It’s made out of a straw wrapper, twisted multiple times and tied at the top. Sam had started this tradition after your 3rd proper date. You had joined the Winchesters a few years back, instantly connecting with them both, but the connection between yourself and Sam was just different.

You glance down at the ring he had made you, grinning to yourself. Mainly because Sam takes the time and effort to create you something that makes you smile, which in return, makes him smile. “You’re so cute.” You let out a laugh, and Sam looks at you endearingly. “One day.” He says with a wide grin on his face.

Yourself and the brothers decided today would be a day full of rest, so you laid in bed much longer than you would normally. There’s a knock at the door before it opens slightly. “Y/N?” Sam calls, before fully entering the room. “Yeah?” You reply whilst Sam pads over to you, sitting close to you on the bed. “Good morning,” you greet him, and he leans in to give you a kiss. “Afternoon.” He corrects. You whip your head to your alarm clock. 12:07PM. “Whoops.” You grin, looking at Sam, who looks a little distant. Moving yourself into his view, he breaks his stare. “You okay?” Sam’s eyes meet yours, and he smirks. “Yeah, baby. I’m good.” Sam pauses. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m okay, a little bored…”

“Well, lucky for you, I’ve got something planned.”

“You do?” Your eyes brighten. A chance to spend some quality time with Sam is something you never take for granted. A day with him is a day well spent.

“Yeah, I do.” Sam lifts himself up from the bed before walking toward the door. “We leave at 6. Wear something pretty.”

It had been a couple of hours since Sam had invited you out on a date, hence why you’re getting ready to leave now. You wore something pretty indeed, your most favourite item of clothing and, to be honest, you never felt prettier. You exit your bedroom and make your way to the foyer of the bunker. Dean flashes you a smile as he’s walking toward the library, looking back at you. “Damn, Y/N,” he scoffs, “you really know how to clean up.”

“You think?” You gasp, showing him your outfit. “Yeah. He’ll love it. I know it.” He smiles warmly, something you don’t really see from Dean that often. You don’t think too much into it, though, as you make your way up the stairs and meet Sam outside.

You open the door, and the sun radiates right onto your face. Leaves rustle gently against each other as a light breeze flows through the air. Sam catches your eye and freezes in place, his eyes scanning over you and his cheeks flush a pinched pink. “You look gorgeous,” he stutters, clearly struggling to get something… anything, out. He opens the Impala’s passenger side for you, allowing you to slide into the seat. Sam enters the car and turns toward you. “You look good,” you compliment, and he smirks. “Like, really good.” You gape at Sam, as he turns away bashfully. “Stop…” He brushes the compliment off before landing a kiss on your cheek. He turns the engine over and sets off.

Sam won’t reveal where you’re going, just somewhere you’d need to look pretty for, and right now it doesn’t add up. Sam’s driving along a never-ending dirt road, no clear sign of where to drive exactly, but all you know is you’re up high

Sam pulls up to a nearby cliffside, a small gazebo with twinkling fairy lights lining the frame all the way around. The sun is beginning to set; the clouds contrasting the sky with light pinks and deep oranges, lilac accents flecked with the pretty colours of the sunset. You look over at the gazebo, two white candles are lit and placed in the centre of the table on a white lace tablecloth. There are two glasses atop the table, paired with a small metal bucket holding a bottle of champagne. Tears fill your eyes while you absorb the scenery. Sam couldn’t have chosen a more perfect place.

“Y/N?” You turn around and he’s gazing at you in adoration and nervousness. It’s so obvious he’s put in an extreme amount of effort for you today, like he always has. Sam’s hands are shaking slightly, but not enough for you to notice. He places his hands on your waist, pulling you in close for a short but sweet kiss. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting your hands hang behind his head. “This is beautiful, Sammy,” you stare into his eyes, and he removes his hands from your waist before placing a hand in his pocket. You take a step back to give him room.

Sam reaches out for a small, black box before getting down on one knee. Tears stream down your face, and Sam smiles at you with hope in his eyes, “Y/N.” He starts. “You are the most fascinating person I’ve ever met, the smartest, kindest, bad-ass person who’s always so considerate and careful. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Y/N…” Sam opens the box, revealing a diamond encrusted ring. A delicate diamond sits atop in its own crown. The sparkle from the ring gleams and reflects the colours of the sunset, and you cry. “Y/N, will you marry me?” He glances at you with glossy eyes, and you nod profusely. You practically jump in place, whilst Sam gets up and slides the ring on your finger. You squeal with excitement and Sam pulls you in to kiss your forehead, then your lips passionately. Sam pulls away, but you pull him back in, cupping his face.

#spn #supernatural #supernatural imagines #spn imagines #sam winchester #sam winchester imagines #supernatural imagine #spn imagine #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x you #sam x you #sam x y/n

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percyjavksongf · 2 years ago

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-𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤! 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐’𝟗𝟎𝟎

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐦𝐲 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

'𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭...𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐳𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐢𝐫...𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮’

-𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐨𝐧

“Anne had come home dancing in the purple twilight across the snowy places. Afar-”

you noticed a small, curious hand shoot up in the corner of your eye and you had to hold back a laugh, shifting your gaze to the young girl sitting attentively in front of you, she was the last one to go home every evening but even as the hour grew late she was as alert as ever.

“yes, Aneria?”

“what does twilight mean?” she spoke in a whisper, already having been shushed twice this evening by the librarian.

“its when the sun has nearly set but there’s still some light coming through, like when the sky turns shades of purple and pink. Do you understand what I mean?”

Aneria nods in a serious way, she was by far your favourite out of all the children you read to in the library, although you know you shouldn’t have favourites she was the most intrigued by the stories you were instructed to read to the kids, who usually were in your care until their parents finished work. Todays read was Anne of Green Gables much to your delight, the story was a favourite of yours since you were Aneria’s age.

“now where were we, uh, yes. Afar in the southwest was the great shimmering, pearl-like sparkle of an evening star-”

“Gilbert Blythe is so dreamy, don’t you think?” you nod your head approvingly at Aneria’s statement, having grown accustomed to her frequent interruptions, she never meant any harm with them. “my mom said to me that she’s seen you walking around with a boy, is that true? She said he’s Sally’s son and I hope so, he’s definitely just as dreamy as Gilbert”

you struggle to compress a laugh at Aneria’s boldness, not surprised at the least that gossip has spread about you and Percy’s evening strolls around the borough, you just didn’t expect to hear about it in this situation.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about missy” you reply with a teasing grin, causing Aneria to whine in annoyance, “come on, I never got to know the truth in gossip”

“that’s usually because there’s not much truth in it, now will we continue reading?”

Aneria sat once again to attention, glad she had forgotten quickly about the topic of yourself and Percy.

“in the sky that was a pale golden and ethereal rose of gleaming white spaces and dark glens of spruce. The tinkle of sleigh bells among the snowy hills-”

a sharp voice echoed through the library making you cringe, “Aneria! Time to go home”

Aneria huffed and rose to her feet quickly, “coming mom!” she swung her bag over her shoulder before turning to you “can we finish the story on Monday?” you smiled and nodded warmly, waving goodbye as you turned to grab your own bags.

“so what happens next?” you gasp sharply and spin on your heels, sending Percy a sour look when he laughs at your shocked expression, “what are you doing in here?” you questioned with fake displeasure, which Percy knew well at this point. “I’m here to find out what happens next, duh” with that he plops himself down by your feet and stares up at you expectingly, you sigh but can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face when you flick back through the pages to finish the sentence.

“The tinkle of sleigh bells among the snowy hills came like elfin chimes through the frosty air, but their music was not sweeter then the song in Anne’s heart and on her lips” you look up from your book and catch Percy’s gaze, you watch each other for a couple of seconds until he blinks and quickly turns away, clearing his throat before shuffling to his feet, “well your book’s right about one thing, its frosty as fuck out there.” you’re quick to shush Percy with a giggle as you hear the librarian huff in annoyance. The two of you are quick to leave the library and step out into the icy street, a shiver runs up your spin and before you can say a word Percy is offering his jacket to you, “come on just take it, seriously I don’t need it” you take the heavy material into your arms gratefully, it slips on easily and you practically melt into it, the smell of Percy cologne lingers on the fabric and you can’t say you hate it.

The streets of Manhattan were dressed accordingly with the season, you adored how the city, as crazy as it was, always felt like something out of a movie this time of year, and if you hadn’t been in a trance watching the lights glimmer around you, then you would’ve felt the weight of Percy’s stare on the side of your face. You had grown accustomed to your shared walk home, Percy was working part time at the skate shop down the road from the library which delighted you both, with the busyness of school it was hard to find time to hang out. At first it was more of a ‘hey if I see you I’ll walk over and talk’ but now it was guaranteed that you’d find Percy waiting outside the Library leaning against the wall like a cliche from an 80’s movie, but instead of starting with a smooth pick up line he’d ask if you had known that sea horses are monogamous (you did not). Apart from the ocean facts yous two would talk about everything, home life, what you were learning about in college, Percy would never fail to mention his long distance friends Annabeth and Grover, he spoke about them so much it felt like they were your friends too.

“so what’s Gilbert like?” the question had you raising a brow at Percy, who faked innocence with a brow raise in return. A breath of warm air travels past your lips and you shift your gaze ahead at the flashing ‘tis the season!’ sign hanging off the Bodega Percy and you visit frequently.

“you heard Aneria talking, didn’t you?” you could practically feel the shit eating grin make its way onto Percy chill flushed face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but, if I did overhear how absolutely dreamy this guy is and you totally agree and think him and I are just alike-”

“I never said you two were the same Jackson, don’t put words into my mouth”

“I know you definitely think it though, even if you won’t admit it”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you at that, you could go back and forth with Percy for hours and never grow bored. You have a feeling you cant get yourself out of this conversation though.

“any fish facts for me today?” you blink up at him, hoping it’s a good enough subject change

“you can’t deter me by fluttering your lashes, but we will go back to the fish facts after you tell me about my amazing twin” Percy bumps your shoulder and you nearly go flying on the icy footpath, his annoyingly gorgeous laugh encouraging you to shove him away from you and across the ice, unfortunately for you, Percy seems to hold himself just fine on it, dam him.

“well for one, Gilbert would never do that to Anne”

“oh, so you see us as Anne and Gilbert? How romantic”

“shut up”

a gloved hand reaches out to you and you stare at it suspiciously, though you do notice how he was wearing the gloves you brought him last winter, he complained for weeks about how cold his hands were and that you just had to hold them to keep him warm. The gloves were well received but you found he reached for you still.

“I don’t bite” he teases and you grab onto the hand, even after doing it so many times it still made your heart flutter.

“come here”

you let Percy pull you into him as you continue your walk, removing his hand from yours and you sigh at the loss of warmth, causing him to chuckle “don’t worry baby I’m not going too far” with that an arm wraps around your shoulder and pulls you close, in that moment your grateful for the cold, it’s a good excuse for your burning face. You feel yourself melt under his touch and allow your body to move closer into his, because it’s cold obviously, no other reason.

“so do you think Gilbert is more handsome than me?”

“I think he’s less annoying than you”

“you love me, don’t lie”

you do.

“did you listen to anything else Aneria said, or did you hear a complement about yourself and your brain tuned out”

“I heard that we’re the local gossip, you and I. My mom would be delighted if that were true”

your heart tugs painfully a little at that. it isn’t true, you have to remind yourself, but it feels nice to fall into a dream that it is.

You hum quietly in response and notice you’re only a few blocks away from yours and Percy’s shared apartment complex, Percy, as if sensing your disappointment, turns both your bodies away and continues down another street. Confused ,you send him a look that he returns with a smile “it’s a Friday night, we don’t have to go home now. Besides I though you wanted to go check out that Christmas market at union square?”

you stare up at Percy for a bit and just look, his redding nose and cheeks that complement his tan skin so well, his eyes, god, his eyes. They were always a source of amazement for you, you’ve never seen eyes like Percy’s, you always got lost in them, swearing that they changed into different shades of green and blue.

“I’m definitely more handsome than Gilbert” Percy’s face breaks out in a grin as you pull him towards the nearest subway station.

It was busy of course, like any Friday night in the city would be, Percy had managed to snag a seat for you two quickly and you raced to get yourself sat down before anyone else could come after it. Usually the cramped space made you uncomfortable but you never really minded with Percy, he didn’t seem to either with how he pressed his side against you.

An unspoken agreement to be as close of possible to each other was the norm for you too, you threw your legs over to hang in between his and wrap your arms around his arm closest to you, finally resting your head on his shoulder. You could stay like this forever, you think. Riding a cramped subway that had a familiar mixture of carolling and shouting, shuffling and bumping, crying and laughter. It’s like you couldn’t even hear the ruckus when you were tucked up with Percy, his head resting on top of yours, his strong hands resting on your legs, fingers tapping an familiar tune on your thigh.

You adored it.

“you know I don’t think this is going to help us mush out those rumours” you mumble into his jacket, still pressed firmly against you. Percy turn his head and presses his lips to your hair, “yeah I know”

you hum back softly in acknowledgment, the rush of having Percy so close to you was gorgeous. But after today, what then? You don’t mind the gossip and what if’s of strangers but the feeling of what if with Percy was becoming too much to bear, you didn’t want what if anymore. Percy, now having lifted his head to check out how far away you were from union square, gave you the opportunity to shift your head to look up at him. Sensing your gaze, Percy looks back down at you and admires how pretty your eyes looks gazing up at him through your lashes, the though makes him catch his breath and look away for a second, but you two were magnetic, drawn to each other and it wasn’t long until he was watching you again. His free hand came up to press against your cheek, reddened from happiness. “you’re so warm” Percy whispered, mostly to himself. You were always so warm, he used to joke that you were his portable hot water bottle. You lean slightly to press the fat of your cheek into his hand, just for a second, before moving back to against his shoulder.

“fuck” Percy says to himself again, you shoot him a confused glance and he squeezes your knee in return

“whats wrong? Do you need me to move-”

“no, no, stay there you’re good, you’re so good” the breathiness in his voice combined with his dark eyes freezes you. This felt different, this was all so new to you.

“I just really wish we weren’t on this subway right now, I don’t think Gilbert would kiss Anne on a subway train”

you don’t fight the laughter that echos out of you, of course he’d be worried about something like that

“Percy, I think Gilbert would do that. Besides I don’t care about what Gilbert would do, I don’t like Gilbert”

“well I hope not cus’ I’d be heartbroken”

“oh really”

“truly”

the train pulls to a halt and Percy rushes to get yous off, your laughter accompanies his movements as you both run up the stairs into the cool night, glancing at each other every few seconds. The streets were alive and bustling, you gripped Percy’s hand tightly as he pulled you away from the crowd to the side of a Bodega, squeezing your hand every few seconds as if to make sure you didn’t disappear.

his hands shook gently in yours and you squeezed them tight, you both stared at each other for what felt like a lifetime, you could feel the nerves creeping up on you now.

“Percy..”

“I know”

the loss of his hands in yours was quickly fixed by his hand cupping your face, the wool was comforting against your skin for a moment before it was gone, replaced by Percy’s now ungloved hand.

“i’m sorry this isn’t as pretty as Hester Grey’s old garden” Percy whispers, his thumb running over your cheek

“you have read Anne of green gables” you spoke back accusingly

“my mom read them to me as a kid”

Percy pulled you closer until you stood chest to chest, you tilted your head up and brushed his nose slightly “hey Percy?”

“mh?” you felt hypnotised under his gaze, his eyes almost seem to have darked. You’ve never been so close before.

“please kiss me”

“as you wish” is mumbled against your lips, you can feel his nose pressing against your cheek as he’s kissing you, his mouth so warm and firm against yours. Your arms snake around his shoulders as his hands slide down your back and settle on your waist, gripping tightly. You know that the word will spread by tomorrow morning about the Jackson boy getting handsy outside the Bodega and it makes you smile against Percy, he only pulls back for a second to catch his breath, hands never leaving you once

“do you want to go to the markets?” you take a second to admire how messy Percy looks, face flushed and hair ruffed up from your hands. You must look the same from how Percy’s staring right back at you. You shake your head yes and press back against him “eager girl, you need me that much, huh?” you smack his arm hard.

“says the one who practically dragged me out of the subway to do this”

he presses a quick kiss to your lips to shut you up.

“we’ll check out these markets and then walk home, hows that sound?”

“walk? Why would we walk” yous turn hand in hand back towards the colourful crowd of people, everything seems so much brighter now.

“because then I get to have you to myself for longer” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

The next morning you woke to a knock at the door, Percy having dropped you home only hours before. You practically dragged your feet to the door and swung it open, the chill of the wooden floors making you want to get this interaction done and over with quickly. To your surprise no one stood on the other side, you looked down to see a plate full of blue chocolate chip cookies wrapped in cling film with a note on top, taking them inside quickly you pressed your back against the door and read the messy writing.

Meet me at the Bodega in 15 minutes, breakfast on me.

You can’t help but laugh at it, it’s definitely no Gilbert Blythe, but its Percy Jackson, which is so much better.

a/n: hellooooooo i have returned minions. don't really like this fic tbh but i am so ready for Christmas and needed to get something out, and I've fallen back into my pjo phase so expect more of this <3 i also have a Jake Sully fic in the works for my avatar ppl

#percy jackson #pjo #pjo fandom #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #book percy jackson #x reader #fanfic

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ieatkeyboard · 1 year ago

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What Obey Me brothers do for Valentines day

Note: I have a love-hate relationship with Valentines day but it's a really cute holiday! Hope you guys have fun :] Warnings: Sappy love, fluff

Lucifer: - It's cannon he's been in many relationships so I don't think it's his first rodeo - He cleans up your room while you're at work. Washes your bedding+other laundry, makes your bed and folds your laundry, does some vacuuming. -He doesn't go through your drawers or anything just tries to make it a bit neater so you can come home and not worry about cleaning up - He gets you gifts based on things you like. If you like to make jewellery he'll get a couple kits from a hobby store to make together. If you like comfy clothes, he'll customise a set of pyjamas for you, etc. - He'll jot down notes of things you like all January. He makes sure to ask at the beginning of January what your dream Valentines day activity would be in hopes you forget about it over the month - I feel like he wouldn't ask for what he wants but he enjoys doing things together. He's a bit of a sap so he uses Valentines day to show it more. - I feel like he'd be a sucker for roses. Get him white and red roses with a little note and he'll never forget it. - He might get you some little things on Valentines day if it's on a week day and use the weekend to do more. - He'd love make dinner with you but he has your favourite restaurant on standby in case Beel walks in- - Watching movies together in his room cause his bed is bigger, taking your blankets and pillows into his room cause you're spending the night there. -He tears up a little at the end of the night, when you're sleeping in his arms. He hopes this is the most memorable Valentines day you'll ever have

Mammon: - He's a sap but in the "idk what I'm doing" way - Anything he knows about you leaves his brain - He gets you flowers and chocolate and sprays his cologne on a hoodie for you - He'll probably take you for a drive and show you all his favourite places (Spoiler. It's the places you first met, took your first date at, had all your firsts at) - He'll cry remembering how it started. how you ended up in his life and all the things you've been through - He takes you through a drive through and you eat in the parking lot. He has your shared playlist playing quietly in the background while you both talk about your days and your memories together - I feel like he wouldn't need anything. He just wants you - But if you got him a new sweater or watch he was looking at, he'd be extremely happy. - I also feel like he likes sunflowers

Leviathan: - He's never had a Valentine before, he also would be too scared to ask - He'd slip a note under your bedroom door that says "Wanna be my Valentine?" and when you agree he gets really happy but also nervous that you're kidding or are doing it out of pity - After much reassurance you set up plans together - You guys watch your favourite anime together, build the anime figurines Levi's been putting off together, play games, order food - You probably sneak out later to go walk to a convenience store to get snacks and drinks and go fuck around at a park - I think he'd buy your snacks for you and pick up a stuffy for you - He isn't overly sure what you like in the flowers and such department but he tries - I feel like he isn't a big flower person tbh

Satan: - Romantic slut man - He makes you a goody bag. He writes a love letter with references to the books you've read together, makes a kiss print sweater like the ones on tiktok (Got the idea from Asmo sending him stuff of what to do for you), got you the snacks you like, a gift card to the places you like and a lamb stuffy that reminds him of you - He likes lavender for sure - I feel like getting him a nice lavender room spray to help him relax while he reads, a cat stuffy, the book he's been dying to read but is always in use at the library and a new blanket would be perfect for him (I am absolutely projecting, and what) - Making a blanket for with him and watching the movie adaptations to the books you like is everything. Go to a cat cafe to get lunch before going shopping and putting the gift card he got you to use

Asmo: - Oh lordy lord - Bath bomb, rose petals, wine, your favourite show, the kiss print sweater but I feel like he'd do matching pants (You'll NEVER guess where he put the kisses!!!*REAL* *NOT CLICKBAIT*), spa day, a cute lunch and dinner date, SO MANY PICTURES - He wants to spoil you. Give you everything romantic he could possibly think of - He likes lilies. lilys? Idfk you get the idea - He also would love to make stuff together! I also feel like Asmo draws up a little map of all the places you had your firsts and put little Polaroid pictures of those days next to the spots - Taking him shopping and getting to go home, do a little fashion show, try all the new makeup he got one each other, make the teddy bear you got him smell like you, get him new blankets/candles/decorations for his room. He'd be so happy - I feel like as much as Valentines day is the day of love and he'd flirt a lot, he'd keep sex out of the plans (Unless you want it but than after the fact he'll complain about needing to catch up on the other plans he made lol) - He loves you for so much more than your body and especially cause he's the Avatar of lust he want to prove it's not just his sin getting in the way

Beel: - He gets you comfy clothes, snacks, and other stuff you like! If you have your ears pierced or have other piercings he'll get you cute jewellery, get you a necklace to match. If you like cats, he'll get you a sweater with cat ears and a cat stuffy - He worries about getting you flowers because if they smell good he'll want to eat them- - On the note he for sure likes edible flowers like hibiscus, rose, lavender and chamomile. I'd recommend getting him flowers in the way of getting flower flavoured things - He would appreciate ordering food from all the places you've been on dates so you can have a trip down memory lane while eating (He absolutely asked Asmo for that idea) - I feel like he'd ask his brothers and your friends for ideas cause as much as he knows you, you probably admit to like different or more stuff with friends - He asks you to show him all your favourite movies, current and childhood. He wants to know how you became the amazing person he fell in love with - He wouldn't want much for Valentines day. Candy and like I said, flower flavoured things would be enough for him. If you get him anything else please do not make it food related he will chew on it. Getting him new clothes and stuff based off his movie would make him really happy

Belphie: - Blanket, both of the fluffy and weighted variety. Cow stuffy. New sweater. -I would try and steer clear of stuff to make him sleep harder but he's a comfy kinda guy so it's hard - Star themed pyjamas and hair clips. Or bleaching his favourite constellations on a black hoodie. He'll wear it everywhere - I feel like he'd like white roses and dahlias - His ideal date would be getting food, going to the planetarium and talking, listening to music, looking at the stars, etc. And than going home and napping with his new blanket and in his new pyjamas. - He'd get you snacks, a hoodie and shorts that are your favourite colour, get you a new pillow that he'd test out first to make sure it was comfy. - And ofc he'd get you stuff you like. Your favourite perfume, stuff based on movies/shows/anime you like. - He'd get a little sappy and tell you he's so glad your still with him. That you're his

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me belphegor #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me leviathan #lucifer fluff #mammon fluff #leviathan fluff #satan fluff #asmodeus fluff #beelzebub fluff #belphegor fluff #valentines day #RatwRitesThings

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runningfrom2am · 11 months ago

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requiem // part five

summary: according to coriolanus snow, his best friend had the most beautiful voice in all of panem. she had been training her whole life constantly to get where she was; being up for a residency at the most elite opera house in all of panem. singing was her passion. her true love; and when that got stripped from her in a second, his world became a whole lot quieter. he loathed every minute of it.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.1k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: opera singer!mentor!reader (blink and you'll miss it), she's kind of a prodigy!! p cool imo, mute!reader, bestfriend!coryo, friends to lovers trope ooo, mentions of graphic violence early on (particularly the prologue) but after that it's pretty safe, depictions of ptsd/trauma, mental illness and minor suicidal ideation but at least she's not entirely alone, descriptions of minor medical treatments and use of medication.

a/n: fighting for my LIFE trying to sort out my student loans rn. also i'm sick. butttt i did just finally get my hands on hogwarts legacy so that's eating up all my time. anyway that's a small update on my life.

also, reminder to follow @runningfrom2am-library and turn on my notifications there to join my taglist for this series!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board

Walking into the citadel and down some spiral stairs towards Dr. Gaul's infamous lab, you already have your notepad in hand prepared with the proposal you have made for her.

She likes those, right? Coryo wrote her several for the games and she put them to use. This should be no different.

You have a pencil clutched in one hand unless she has questions, which you are sure she will.

Your shoes click down the large hall as you make your way to the reception desk on the left side, manned by security rather than actual receptionists. Dr. Gaul was not your average doctor, after all.

You stop in front of the counter and slide a piece of paper across it to the man sitting there, a determined but kind expression on your face.

He doesn't even look up.

You let out a quiet sigh, rolling your eyes before knocking on the counter and waving a hand at him.

He looks up then, studying you for a moment with eyes lingering on the scar across your throat before recognition flashes in his eyes. "Can we help you with something?" He asks anyway, as if he was expecting an answer even though you both knew you wouldn't be able to give him a verbal one.

You tap the paper you placed on the counter, sliding it forward more toward him and he picks it up.

'I would like to see Dr. Gaul. I have a written proposal for her.'

He reads it, nodding a little to himself before looking up at you again. "She should have a few minutes, she has a meeting at 2, though." He says, and you nod to him in a silent thank you as he buzzes the doors open for you to enter.

Stepping into the lab that hosted incredibly high ceilings, tanks lining the shelves and walls as well as a pit in the floor straight ahead, you swallow as you look around. You had never been in here before, and you weren't sure if you were more creeped out or more in awe of the whole thing.

"If it isn't my favourite songbird." You look up when you hear the familiar voice of the doctor, resisting to roll your eyes at the nickname, despite her claiming that you had been her favourite of the two of you who had earned the name. These days, it never fails to form a pit in your stomach.

You give her a smile and a polite nod as she walks toward you from between some of the tanks, dusting off her red gloves on the somehow pristine white of her lab coat.

"To what do I owe this pleasure, chickadee?"

In response, you hold out the carefully prepared file folder to her, including your proposal and copies of your own medical records from the operations performed after your attack.

She raises her eyebrows in intrigue as she plucks it eagerly from your hands, opening it up.

Dr. Gaul's eyes widen slightly in surprise as she looks over the "title page" of your neatly formatted proposal, looking up at you again.

"Experiment in Language Efficiency on the Human Body: A Proposal." She reads, letting out a slight laugh.

You watch her nervously, hands clutched around your notebook against your chest. You nod in confirmation, wanting her to know you are entirely serious.

She quickly flips through the pages and your medical records, occasionally glancing up at you.

"Well, this seems to be a compelling proposal." She comments, closing the folder. "But no. I will not be turning you into any kind of experiment."

Your brow furrows in slight disappointment, and you flip open your notebook to quickly write something down for her.

'I volunteer.'

She reads the sheet as you turn it around and she shakes her head, a small smile forming on her lips. "I figured as much, but still, it is too dangerous. I do not experiment on humans. Especially Capitol citizens, and especially those as well-loved as you."

The irony of that is palpable, and your jaw tightens as you scribble your thoughts down on the next page. You thought she had done something to Clemensia, but you did not wish to fuel the rumour mill, so you kept that quiet.

'I believe that if anyone is capable it is you, Dr. Gaul.'

"I'm flattered, and I do not doubt that." She chuckles, holding the folder out to you again. "But that does not make it possible, I am afraid."

In response you just point over to the bird cages against the left wall, tilting your head at her.

Jabberjays: Birds of her own creation designed to mimic the human voice.

"You've done your research." Dr. Gaul comments, clearly impressed and pleased that you would bring them up. "You make a valid point, my jabberjays, they... They were certainly a successful experiment of mine. Undeniably relevant to your cause."

She gazes over at the caged birds thoughtfully. "But look at them now. As you point at them." She nods toward them before looking back at you again. "They were only free for so long before they ended up caged again. Useful, for a while, during the war, but their time of pertinence has passed. You know how that feels, don't you?"

The question was cruel, as she was known to be, but that knowledge didn't make it hurt any less. You take a deep breath in and out through your nose, feeling frustrated and defeated all at once as you turn to walk away.

"Ah, wait a moment, chickadee. I'm not finished." She calls after you, voice echoing in the large lab. You pause, turning around to face her again.

"I am having all my precious jabberjays rounded up from the districts and shipped back to me because, despite their redundancy, I am yet to give up on them. I wish to somehow give them a second purpose, maybe make some tweaks to their genetics." She explains, but you are still mostly uninterested and busy drowning in your disappointment. "What I mean, is that I will consider your proposal, depending on how that goes with them in the coming weeks."

Your heart stops and flutters for a moment at the exciting news. You can't help the hopeful smile that grows on your face as you nod eagerly at her.

'Thank you.'

You write quickly before showing her the sheet, pressing your hand to your chest to signal further your gratefulness.

"That is not a yes, mind you. It is very risky, but I will take it into account. I'll do some tests on defective birds and see if there is a way I can help." She warns you, tucking the folder under your arm. "Now, I have a meeting, if you wouldn't mind. I will be in touch with you, little bird."

You nod again, giving her a small wave before turning and walking back the way you came with a giddy smile on your face.

Walking into the now familiar lab, Coriolanus is slightly nervous. As he always is, in the presence of Dr. Gaul. The coldness of the room in both temperature and design makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up, but he's used to the chill he gets when he walks in.

Especially now that he didn't know what she had summoned him for.

His worries are quickly dashed and then tripled walking down the spiral staircase, stopping in his step when he sees you coming up.

"What are you doing here?"

Your best friend's voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you look up, having just finished tucking your notebook into your bag. You had little to no interest in pulling it out again, hoping that your long-lasting friendship would allow you to instead just communicate telepathically and spare you the effort.

You just stare at him, just as surprised to see him, opening your mouth like you're going to say something and you try but you still can't. Shocking.

Instead of coming up with any meaningful response, you do the best you can do, pointing at him and then turning up your palm as if to ask him the same thing.

"Me? Dr. Gaul called for me." Coryo answers, thankfully understanding your wordless question. He was better at that than most. "You too?"

You're about to shake your head and try to explain why you were here, but then you think better of it.

He hates her. Hates her experiments, despite what he did to help her with the games. He'd probably flip if he knew the truth.

You nod instead, glancing back down the stairs.

Coryo sighs a breath of relief. At least he wasn't the only one. At least you might be able to give him some peace of mind. "Is it bad? Is it about the mentorship program? Is it-"

You hold a hand up to stop him from his mini spiral, lifting one finger.

'One question at a time.'

Right.

He had the sound of mind to only ask yes or no questions to get to the bottom of what he wanted to know, but he didn't quite get as far as realizing that all of them at once may not be helpful.

"Sorry, is it bad?" He asks again, and normally he would laugh, but he was too anxious to even see the comedy in it like the two of you normally would.

Unsure what else to do, you shake your head and shrug vaguely. As an extra measure, you hold up your hand and twist your palm.

'So so.' The gesture is meant to signal, considering it was a safe enough answer. Nothing Dr. Gaul could have called him here for could be all good news, after all. You don't think, anyway.

"Okay, okay..." Coryo breaths out, nodding to himself.

Feeling a little guilty you step up to the step he's on, gently patting his shoulder and giving him a small smile.

'You'll be fine.'

He seems to interpret this correctly, giving you a small smile in return and gently resting his hand over your smaller one on his shoulder.

You were meant to be reassuring him, but his touch works miracles to comfort you when you weren't even sure you needed it all that much.

These days though, you would cling to any sense of it you could get. Even the tiniest bits. Sometimes, for a flicker of a second, you didn't feel so alone. Coryo could still hear you.

"Thanks. I'll see you soon? Can I come by later?" He asks and you nod in confirmation, giving his shoulder another gentle squeeze as you take another step up so you're about at eye level with him, leaning back to kiss the side of his head in a small bit of encouragement before waving him on.

Coryo can't help the flush that forms on his cheeks as he nods at you, hesitating for a moment before continuing down the steps and you continue back up.

"Oh, Dr. Gaul?" Coryo says, catching himself before he leaves, and she looks up again from her corner desk stacked with papers, your deep red folder sitting right on top.

She looks up, anticipating his question.

"Did you offer an apprenticeship to Y/N as well? I saw her leaving on my way down." He asks, assuming that she must have extended it to you as well. That was why you were here, right? Both called for the same thing? Though, he didn't understand how that could have been a bad thing as you indicated it kind of was when he stopped you on the stairs.

But he knows you well. Having to settle for an internship under Dr. Gaul was far from what you wanted in life, so he can easily see how you could have seen it that way.

"No." Dr. Gaul answers after a moment, head tilted at him. "She just had a question for me."

Well, so much for your honesty.

You never lied to him. At least, Coryo didn't think you did, but here he was, being confronted with the fact that you had. It doesn't settle well.

He can't resist asking. "What about?"

"That is between the songbird and I, I'm afraid." Dr. Gaul responds with a shrug and a sly, knowing smile- taunting him for something she knew about you that he did not. "If she wished for you to know, she would tell you." She pauses, a feigned guilty smile forming on her red-painted lips at the irony of her words. "Well, you know what I mean."

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

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