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hyacinthian-chateau · 2 years ago

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Hi, can I please have a match up with a male character for genshin?🙏🏼

For my personality : I'm definitely a big introvert, I need time to open up to someone but once you know me, I can be quite playful & I like teasing my friends/family.

I'm an INTP, which means I'm often stuck in my own head, when I'm with my group of friends, I don't talk a lot since I'm more focused on my own thoughts. I usually prefer to listen than talk.

I can be quite talkative when I'm interested by a subject & I can be rambling a lot because of my excitement.

I always need to analyse everything, like I need everything to make sense & if a little detail doesn't make sense then it's going to disturbs me.

I'm stubborn & prideful, probably my 2 worst traits.

My love language is probably acts of service, I'm not very direct & open with my feelings but I think actions speak louder than words so I like to do little things for others.

My dislikes :

I hate big crowds or loud places, they make me uncomfortable, I prefer quiet & chilled places.

I don't like clingy people, I need my personal space & I can be easily annoyed if someone doesn't respect it.

I don't like people who are too extravagant, like when they're too loud or when they're overreacting, I feel like they just need attention or they're not genuine.

Physical affection for me is also a no or it needs to be minimal like holding hands for example.

I'm a very picky eater so there are a lot of aliments I don't like.😅

I hate judgemental people, who are judging when it doesn't concerned them or without knowing the full story.

I don't like it when I'm ignored or when someone is interrupting me when I'm speaking.

Bugs...🤐

My likes & hobbies :

I love anything sweet, I have a huge sweet tooth!

I'm whipped for animals, I just can't resist them! I'm definitely more confortable with them than with humans.😅 (I'm a cat mom by the way!)

I love poetry, sometimes I try to write poems but I don't think I'm good at it so I prefer to just read some.

I like writing in general, like I said before, I tend to be stuck in my own head so writing my thoughts helps me emptying my head & organize my thoughts.

I enjoy nature, so I like to take a break & just walk in some quiet & peaceful places like forests for example.

I like talking about random facts, if I think something is interesting then I want to share it with others.

I love baking & cooking! It's probably my biggest love language! It always makes me happy when I see my family enjoying my food!

I think I'm a good listener so I'm always honoured when someone comes to me too seek for my help. I always like helping people by listening & giving advices.

I'd love to travel & discover the world, it's probably my biggest dream.

Thank you in advance.🤗

Diluc, ｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

You and Diluc unknowingly find yourselves involved with one another.

The young master of Dawn Winery is a popular figure among the people of Mondstadt. Most of those who interact with the Ragnvindr heir best describe him as a courteous gentleman who tends to come across as either quite frank or, according to the young Klee, grumpy. But regardless of what people perceived him to be, there was more to the aloof and handsome noble than meets the eye.

The first time he notices you is when he volunteers to pick up the weekly order in place of Charles from the nearby bakery. Despite being dressed plainly and covered in a bit of flour, your quiet comeliness catches his attention as you greet him. The stoic man had never been one to make small talk but finds himself learning that you travelled quite a bit after taking note of the knickknacks decorating perched on your store's shelves. By the end of the visit, the nobleman returns to Angel's Share with an extra box of pastries and a quiet liking to you.

As the years passed, the two of you gradually became good friends. It became customary for either of you to visit the other's establishment occasionally. Your workers would catch a glimpse of the uncrowned king and you within your back office, nursing a cup of Valberry tea as he tries your latest pastry creation. On the other hand, you would be occasionally found on one of the high stools at Angel's Share while providing some feedback regarding the new items on his menu. It was much to the surprise of everyone when the two of you collaborated on a set course meal during the Windblume festival, an endeavour which received praise from the residents.

Speaking of the citizens, a growing number of them had taken note of the Pyro-user's change in demeanour. Yes, Diluc had always been a gentleman, and yet no one can deny how the usually intimidating man's gaze would turn soft upon settling over your figure. From hanging his coat over your frame to protect you from a gust of cold wind to going as far as to keep you company as you stop to pet every cat or dog that crosses your path when during the walk home and putting aside a small dish of imported sweets from Inazuma or Sumeru to go with your cocktail, courtesy of Diluc when visiting the tavern. It doesn't take a genius to see that the said man has grown fond, if not quite infatuated, with you. And Diluc very well knows this.

Over the time the tavern owner has known you, he has gotten a better idea of your mannerisms. He knows you to be a dedicated and tenacious individual when it involves your profession as a patissier. Or how you prefer to splurge on kitchen equipment which would ease the workload for your employees. And like any average person, the Claymore user knew you to opt for a short walk around the city to clear your mind after dealing with people after a busy day. But like many, there were also times when you pushed yourself a little too hard…and in those trying days, you would sometimes end up at the tavern for a drink or two.

One summer evening, the Winery owner happened upon your bleary-eyed figure sitting between a mirthful Kaeya and Venti at Angel's Share. It doesn't take long for the Pyro-user to realize that the two must have bugged you to drink a little more than usual, leading to the point where you were in no condition to walk home alone. Handing the towel to a nearby Charles, Diluc can only glare at the two troublemakers as you bid both the bard and captain a good night before escorting you home.

Typically, you had always been a talkative person when alcohol was involved, but Diluc becomes somewhat self-conscious when you stare at him with a silly grin as he walks you home. With a well-posed question, It doesn't take much for you to share what was going through your lovely head. There was a saying that drunken words were honest thoughts, and Diluc was no stranger to them as he was used to dealing with intoxicated patrons…But the usual stoic expression on the Pyro-user's face is quickly replaced by a flustered one when a confession tumbles past your lips.

With his mind running, the Pyro-user's is well aware that he doesn't need to even look at a mirror to know that his face must have been the same shade as his tresses. The seconds must have turned into a few minutes, and Diluc pauses when he catches the tight-lipped smile on your face as you attempt to change the subject when you two finally reach the door to your home.

That's the thing words; once a person starts measuring how much to tell, they keep everything to themselves, leaving others to misunderstand. Diluc was never one to act upon his emotions. Yet, when you begin apologizing for making him uncomfortable and urging him to forget about it, he finds himself reaching for your hand. The young tycoon has never been good at expressing himself, yet he finds himself determined to respond in kind to your feelings.

Archons, the man has never met a stubborn person like you whose contagious smile and presence lit up his dreary existence; He fell in love with you a long time ago but just never found the resolve to tell you in fear that it would be too much of a burden. For years he's maintained friendly relations, as you deserved much better. And yet his feeble attempts to distance himself from you never works out as he constantly reminds himself of you as he goes on with his everyday life.

And yet love, the elusive mystery that is it, seemed intent on finally catching up to the Ragvindr heir when he witnessed the red blooming over your cheeks. The tension in Diluc's frame dissipates as he notes the faint grin on your lips as he meets your gaze, only then finally noticing how close the two of you stood next to each other. He watches as you reach toward his face, tentative fingertips grazing his jaw ever so slightly.

At that moment, he lets himself indulge, letting you feel his cheek before finally leaning into the touch while staring into your bright gaze with utter fondness. In the quiet darkness, the Pyro-user rests his gloved hand over yours as he affirms his affections. And being the witty person you had always been, you dub the red-haired nobleman a mischievous rascal, to which he reciprocates with a small laugh.

The two of you would have stayed wrapped up in each other but found yourselves slightly shaken at the sound of the nearby bell chiming. Finally taking note of the late hour, the winery owner slowly is prepared to bid you goodnight but is beaten to it when you press a chaste kiss against his cheek. Flashing the winery owner an affectionate grin and bidding him a good night, the Pyro-user can only gape as you swiftly disappear behind the safe confines of your home.

Sleep takes its time as Diluc lays awake in bed that night. His thoughts drifted towards you and the events that had transpired that evening. Ever since his father's death and his adoptive-brother's revelation, he's been adamant in keeping people at arm's length to spare both himself from becoming attached and getting hurt. Unfortunately, you had effectively wormed yourself past the high walls of his heart, and now he cannot seem to find it in himself to distance himself from you any longer. Ultimately, he's decided to hold and cherish you despite not knowing what the future holds.

Today's been busy, especially when the Ludi Harpastum is just around the corner…Ah, it seems you have someone waiting to be served! And it doesn't seem like any regular customer…

╰ ☆☆☆☆╮

#Have Fun!#Genshin Impact x Reader #We don't mind info dumps at all teehee #diluc ragnvindr #Diluc x Reader #Hyacinth 🍮#Catharia Writes #Catharia's Match-Ups #Genshin Diluc #Genshin Match-Ups

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tangiblejournal56 · 2 years ago

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7/10/11

“It was hard for me to accept that she had almost no feelings,

maybe none at all, for me as a man. This hurt so bad at times

that it felt like someone was gouging out my guts with a knife.

Still, the time I spent with her was more precious than anything.

She helped me forget the undertone of loneliness in my life.

She expanded the outer edges of my world, helped me draw a

deep, soothing breath. Only Sumire could do that for me.”

-haruki murakami-

Rereading Murakami’s Sputnik Sweetheart on the deck this morning, the sun blasting full-power down on me, already 95 degrees, my cigarette making arabesques of smoke rise above me. This passage hits me like a sack of bricks I wasn’t prepared for, & I felt a deep stab in my chest more intense than I had yet to feel since leaving Iowa. Until now, missing Max has been like a dull ache, a runner’s stitch in my side, but I’d been able to push it back, I hadn’t cried over it or mourned not being around him very seriously. Now however, I felt like crying. I couldn’t pay attention to the words on the page, I couldn’t slow this pounding heart. All I could do was go lay back in bed & let the feeling wash over me, wanting to cry & dispel this dark feeling away from me. I thankfully fell back asleep, & dreamt of weird scenes that made no sense.

I miss him. Unwavering, the need to see his body in bed next to me, his form more beautiful than a Matisse line, his hands like a symphony. That sleep look with his furrowed brows, his pouting lips even fuller, those impossibly high cheekbones. That scent, like home, a comforting, warm feeling, safe. I end up coming off as a cheesy romance novel-aspirant, but I can find no new way of being less maudlin in my emotions toward him. He elicits an overwhelming sea of admiration from me, himself as a fact, his mind, that brilliant place. I cannot believe anyone like him exists anywhere else in the world, so I hold onto this original with an iron grip, knowing if he were to go, a large piece of myself would go away, splitting me in two. There would be such a lack of beauty in my life, no more true world, no more inspiration to be a better person, to accomplish more, to continue writing. He makes me feel capable of what I would like to be. No one else does that, not even Ryan did. Everyone else seems content with me playing the role of patron, never the artist. He makes me believe I can do something with myself, not rely on others’ greatness & hope to be a part of it. I know I help him to some extent as well, motivating him & giving him that encouragement he so badly needs, but he would be a writer regardless of my constant support. He may not ever believe he could get somewhere with it, which I believe I do help him with realizing.

He’s been asking about when we will move. I had my doubts about whether or not this would really happen, but he seems anxious & impatient to leave already, not wanting to wait five more months which I need in order to finish my lease here in Austin. Late at night he will message me, asking me more about Portland, & I smile, anticipation filling me until I’m scratching at the walls. I recall being sixteen & believing he & I would one day have our place together, I envisioned it a small apartment old as hell & slightly shabby-looking. My delight when I realized a year or more ago that Max wants the same thing when he & I were discussing our ideas of an awesome place to live. My adolescent self imagined us in a brick-walled walkup, his albums & CDs spread out all over the place, his guitars & instruments in a corner with a favorite chair. Books & books & books of ours lining the wall, too many for the overwhelmed shelves to hold. The threadbare couch, the television, our movies filling another bookshelf. Opposite his corner with the instruments, my medical examiner’s wooden table as my art desk, my art supplies & laptop. Our kitchen filled with the random appliances & dishes we’d picked up at various antique & knickknack shops, nothing matching of course. His liquors & wines lined up on the counter. Our own separate rooms, but I would spend my nights in his far superior bed, my room mostly used for storing my clothes. Our idyll de Portland. A happiness I cannot imagine could be realized. Whether or not that is the outcome, I will find out.

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fallingfor-fics · 3 years ago

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Souvenir- Negan x Reader

Pairing: Negan x Female Reader 🔥

Warnings: 🔞 Smut, oral (male receiving), light bondage, and mentions of rape (just Negan clarifying he believes in consent)

Word Count: 5.8k

Summary: You volunteer to be taken by Negan instead of Maggie and he ends up showing you a rather good time when you get back to the Sanctuary.

Part 2: Bargain | Part 3: Anarchy

a/n Well this is my first oneshot so hold on tight. Also I haven’t watched TWD in a minute, so just go with it please.

Well this wasn’t how any of us planned for things to go, but by the look on Ricks face as Negan stood towering over him, there was no doubt we would be surrendering to the torturous man. I stayed in my place a few feet away behind Negan, between Maggie and one of Negan's henchmen, squeezing my fists as I felt Maggie's gaze practically burning holes through my skull, on top of the already insufferable sun blaring down on us. She knew what I was thinking, and I didn't doubt the man next to me knew too based on the way he was watching us. I had accepted there really was nothing I could do at this point, however that didn't stop the itching in my skin that was testing my every thought and motion. So easy I could have just quick shot the leather-wearing bastard in the head, if only it would mean the survival of the rest of the group even if not my own, but alas we all knew we weren't anywhere near prepared enough to risk those odds.

So there I stayed silent, watching as one of my best friends stood in shock and silence, making reluctant eye contact with the vile man before slowly nodding, “Ok fine.” Rick agreed in a hoarse voice and we all looked around at each other in suspense. Negan's grin grew as he raised a hand to land harshly on Ricks shoulder. “Alright now that is what I wanted to hear! Damn you are hard to bargain with. For fucks sake I killed two of your people before you gave in!” Negan laughed and a few quiet chuckles came from his other members. “Well, while my boys load up all of my shit,” he smiled nudging Ricks arm in a humorous manner as Rick continued to stare in disbelief, “I am going to take a look around and pick out a few souvenirs to remember this beautiful agreement we made today!” he said before walking past the man and whistling to his men to do as he said. We all stood in our spots, guns from all directions pointed at us as herds of men carried more than half of our food, all of our weapons, and whatever else Negan requested, into their trucks.

I watched as Negan entered our houses one by one looking for whatever “souvenirs” he had thought he would find. Once his men were finally done loading everything up, Negan descended from Ricks house with Judith on his hip and we all quickly straightened up. Rick went to move but was stopped by Simon who just shook his head, “Give her to me.” Rick stated calmly and Negan just smiled playing with the babies hand and calming her down. She had no doubt been crying while we were trapped out here. “Relax Rick, I have a way with kids.” the smug man replied nonchalantly. “Besides she was crying, so I figured she would wanna be out here with the rest of us.” he said smiling at Judith and tickling her. Rick was visibly turning more pale and green as he felt his pride being sucked away each minute that passed.

“Well as cute as you are, I cant fucking stand kids.” Negan said cheerfully to Judith before looking around to who was closest, Enid being on one side and Eugene on the other. “Here.” he said handing Judith off to Enid who quickly grabbed her tight. Negan walked back towards Rick, reaching into his pockets for a few knickknacks he had found. “Now look at this fucking thing, that is cool as shit.” he enthused, holding up a random tiger figurine he had found. “But this was also about all I could find, and since it took just so long to convince you to make a deal, I think I'm going to take..” he paused tsking his tongue and looking around, his gaze finally landed on me for the first time and I felt my heart skip several beats, he looked at Maggie next to me, eyeing her as well before humming. “You.” he said pointing to Maggie. I felt my heart drop and I looked over at her. “No!” Rick yelled to which Negan punched him with force in the stomach, causing Rick to fall to the ground.

I watched as Negan recovered from the brisk movement and smiled up at Maggie. I felt my stomach turn and I shook my head. “No I'm not going anywhere.” Maggie stated firmly to which Negan smiled, “Oh come on don’t make this hard.” He winked and she scoffed before swiftly kicking him between the legs and elbowing his cheek. Just as quickly the man beside us grabbed her and another came to restrain her as well. Negan leaned back up cupping his cheek, his neck twitched and he smiled, “Throw her in the truck, lets go.” he demanded more than told and his smile faded. Maggie kicked and screamed as did the rest of us, but we were all under the knife in some form. Which made my next decision a little easier. “Wait!” I yelled and Negan turned around, however I could tell the stunt Maggie had pulled had affected his mood tremendously. He glared at me and I felt the gun pointed beside me push into my arm. “Please leave her and take me.” I stated clearly. Rick, who was now standing again, shook his head to which I ignored. “Sorry sweetheart but I’ve made my selection.” He let out the playful words in a serious and condescending tone.

His crew continued and I shook my hands as I begged some more, “Please just fucking listen to me!” I screamed to which the man with the gun pointed towards me, went to strike me with it but was stopped by Negan. “Why the fuck would I do that princess? huh?” he remained stoic, not using his charming grin or sarcastic tone like normal. “My name, is Y/n and because she’s pregnant you fucking douchebag.” I spoke out, voice tired but clear as day and laced with courage. Which I may have been stupid to respond with, but at this point in time I haven't got much to loose. He stood in shock, furrowing his brows and reading my expression. That was the worst thing about Negan was that he wasn't just cocky, fearless, and an asshole, but so very intelligent. Painfully so that nothing got by him, and to his dissatisfaction he could tell I was telling the truth. And we both knew what that meant. He looked back at Maggie who was looking at me with sad eyes, “No shit, is that true?” he asked for confirmation and she nodded. He looked at his men and motioned for them to come over. They placed Maggie down and quickly obeyed. The kind woman walked over to join Rick in watching the scene.

I raised my hands to the men before the could grab me , “I got it ok I can walk to the fuckin truck.” I snapped at them to which they looked at Negan in response. He seemed to be holding back a smirk, a mischievous stare hidden behind his eyes as he walked forward to his own truck, “You’re riding with me.” I looked at Rick who had pleading, hopeless eyes, we had been together all these years of this shitshow and who knows when I could see him again, or any of them. I muttered an ‘I’m sorry’ even if I didn’t really have to think twice about the decision. I climbed into the passenger side of Negan’s truck and he flashed me a smile before driving away, making sure to stick the finger out of the window as he did so. I rolled my eyes and watched Rick and Maggie get smaller and smaller in the side mirror before they eventually were out of sight.

Barely seconds into the drive and Negan began berating me with questions. “So how long you been in Ricks little posse?” I stayed silent, finding no amusement in his attempts to learn anything about me knowing he was probably just gonna kill me or make me wish he did. I leaned my legs away and continued to stare out the window. He looked over at me and scoffed, “Are you fucking serious?” was all he said and I continued my plan of treating him like a pestering toddler, and disregarded him. “hey!” he shouted smacking my thigh, enough to sting, but not hard enough to leave a mark. “Don’t fucking touch me!” I responded shoving his hand back. “Look don’t be a brat, you volunteered to come and I'm trying to be fucking nice to you, but If you want to be a bitch then fine it’ll just make my job that much easier.” he scolded in an angry tone which for some reason sent a shiver up my spine causing me to be a little more obedient.

“I met Rick five years ago.” was all I said and he looked over before focusing back on the road, “See that wasn’t so hard.” he teased with a smirk, “what, was he saving your ass or something?” he added and I shook my head, “No it was actually the other way around, me saving him from a herd.” I responded with confidence, correcting the mans assumption. A silence fell over us and I continued to watch the trees rush by before I heard him let out a small laugh. I looked over at him and glared, “What?” I dared myself to question, figuring whatever was tickling the man was something dreadfully stupid. “You guys fuck?” he questioned and I sat up straight and crossed my arms. “What!?” He smirked, “You and Rick” he responded and I shook my head quickly, “No no, he is just my friend.” I said not being able to hide the brief hesitation in my voice. He began nodding his head and laughing, “Ahh I fucking knew it! So what are you his uh mistress? or just a classic friends with benefits deal?” he questioned and I shook my head looking away, “No fuck off its none of those things. We fucked once or twice in desperate times okay? its not a big deal.” He was clearly getting a kick out of these revelations. However all I could seem to focus on was the fact he read me so well and could tell so easily what happened. Unless it happened to be just that obvious.

He managed to keep the rest of the questions a little less invasive, moving on to previous partners, family, and all the pre-apocalypse life experiences I had. Although he never once answered any of my questions, except for one about his wife and that was all. His response even felt like a reaction he had to the inquiry, almost rehearsed and simple. Eventually we arrived to the gates and I held in a breath, all of the sudden feeling my nerves rise again when I remembered I had no clue what he planned to do with me, that being one of the questions he avoided. He pulled in and parked, getting out of the truck and shouting something to the men following behind. I got out of the truck too and Negan made his way over to me. “Ok welcome! Lets start with a quick tour and then Ill take you to your room.” he said with a smile.

“My room?” I questioned and he nodded, “Oh my god I’m not gonna be one of those wives you keep am I? Because I rather you just fucking kill me.” I scoffed and he looked down at me with a sarcastic grin, “Ouch! Damn you’re fuckin rude,” he laughed out, clearly fed up, “I doubt Rick could handle your attitude, I bet the fucker was begging on his knees for you, he is a weak little guy.” he responded as I followed him, rolling my eyes again at his attempts to belittle Rick to seemingly try and impress me. Standing up for my best friend I scoffed, “And you can? Rick didn't even have to deal with my attitude, and he fucked me better because of it.” Negan looked at me with slight shock and slight confusion, I had stunned the man that was for sure. “Damn if you smiled a bit more that might have just turned me on. I also don't believe you.” he prodded back and I decided to just leave it alone this time.

After the tour we arrived to my room and I looked around at the quaint little room, a nice bed and amenities, I was honestly a bit surprised. “So how long am I going to be here?” I asked and he smiled, “As long as I can stand you darling.” I smiled in response, “Oh so not long then.” I said making my way to the bed, noticing a pair of clothes folded nicely on the bed. “You doubting my ability to handle women?” he said in disbelief. “Um yep.” I responded, turning around and realizing he was now a few steps closer. He looked me up and down and I couldn't help but do the same. It was no secret Negan was attractive, but his personality certainly killed any hope he thought he had in willingly pulling women. I locked eyes with his and he smiled, “What am I doing here Negan?” I asked again and he pointed to the clothes. “You’re my souvenir remember? Put those on and then come find me, and I know I probably don't have to tell you this, but don't pull anything.” he mocked and I scoffed as he left the room, shutting the door behind him. As I got dressed I realized the “clothes” were a lace lingerie set and a simple dark red fitted dress over it. “Oh for fucks sake.” I said to myself as I reluctantly got dressed and decided to wisely freshen up as well. I slipped the shoes provided on as well and took a breath before opening the door. I was met with a blonde man with a gun and what appeared to be a burn on his face. “I’m Dwight, follow me.” I listened and followed him all the way into what I assumed was Negan’s house.

Dwight knocked on the large double doors and Negan opened up with a wide grin on his face. His hair was wet as if he had a quick shower and he was without his token leather jacket, in a simple white t-shirt and jeans. when he locked eyes with me I nervously pulled the dress down a bit and he just checked me out. “Ok Dwight get lost.” Negan stated and Dwight nodded walking out briskly. “Well don’t you clean up nice.” I crossed my arms for security and he just tilted his head smiling, “What do you want?” I asked and he gestured me into the room. I knew once I stepped through the doors that whatever he planned to do to me was either going to be horrendous, or even worse, so addicting that I’m not able to get the strength to leave.

He shut the doors behind me and I looked around the large master bedroom. “Pretty cool huh?” he asked as I observed all the fancy furniture and collectables, no doubt stuff he’d taken from people I assumed. “Look Negan, what the fuck do you want? I don’t mean to be ‘rude’ “ I mocked with quotes, “but first you kidnap me and now you aren't sure if you’re going to fuck me or torture me or what?” I quipped wanting to get straight to the point, he stepped closer to me and I backed up slightly, “Well you waste no time. Do you want me to fuck you? Because that’s kinda what its sounding like princess.” he smirked with a cocky shit-eating grin and I laughed, “For the record I am going to fuck you, I just wanted to make sure you knew that.” He added pressing a finger to my chest. I felt it heat up and swarm with butterflies as I swallowed hard and stared into what I could only describe as the devils eyes, burning hot with mischief and temptation and yet so enticing. “A-and what if I said no?” I dared to question in a hushed voice as he stepped even closer and looked down at me. He smiled and tucked some hair behind my ear before letting out a small laugh as he looked me over. “I don’t fuck with rapists sweetheart, but my guess is you are going to be begging for me to fuck you.” he whispered in a deep sensual voice and I felt heat spread to my cheeks as well as my core. In this moment I remembered my observation earlier, he was so smart and read me so well. Meaning there was no doubt I wasn’t going to be able to resist and for some reason the more curious part of me didn’t really want to.

We stayed silent for a moment, the air now feeling hot and my eyes not being able to leave his as he slowly raised a hand once more and stroked the side of my waist, trailing it down my thigh and to the bottom of the dress. I couldn't hold in a shaky breath as his rough, large hands touched my bare thigh. He began to lift the dress up, smiling and watching my expression as he pulled it up. I just watched him, not sure what to do or say in the moment. It had been awhile since I had done this and with him all my knowledge seemed to disappear from my head. “Raise your arms.” he instructed as he approached my breasts, already leaving my lower half exposed besides the lacy panties and heels. I did as I was told raising my arms and shuddering at the air hitting my skin and causing slight goosebumps form. He threw the dress on the ground and admired my form, “Go stand in front of the bed.” he smiled pointing to the large king size bed as if I wouldn’t have known where it was. I did so, facing him still with my back to the bed. He disappeared into his closet for a moment before coming out with a hair tie as well as a neck tie and grinning at me.

“You are something else.” he said as he approached me. I smiled and looked down at my barely covered figure a little embarrassed for myself. “I cant believe you were hiding all of this in those nasty ass clothes, doll.” I felt my heart ping at the new name and smiled up at him, “Well its not often I’m used as a fuck toy.” I shrugged and he just shook his head with a scoff. Grabbing my shoulders softly he turned me around. “I cant wait to hear that pretty little mouth moan out my name instead of blabbing about some pathetic bullshit.” he whispered in my ear and I held in any groan or noise my brain thought to make as I felt intense heat spread through my center at the dark lustful tone of his voice. I turned slightly to glance at what he was doing and he just smiled before motioning for me to face forward again. I felt him grab up my hair, not being too picky about it and tightening it into a pony. My head was racing with crude thoughts and my skin would tense every time he grazed it. He turned me around again and tied my wrists in front with a black neck tie, he tightened them and I tugged my wrist a bit as a response to which he just chuckled and stood back.

He looked me over intensely, as if he was taking note of every curve and mark, not even phased by the few scars and bruises scattered across me, it was a common occurrence in this new horrific world anyways. “Gorgeous.” He complimented, as if he was a painter stepping back to admire his work. I refrained from rolling my eyes at the theatrics and he stepped closer. “Fuck do you make my dick twitch princess.” he said in a more serious tone, his sarcastic grin fading and his eyes growing more intense as he slowly backed me up to the edge of the bed. He gingerly stroked my cheek before grabbing my jaw and squeezing a bit, his devilish grin returning, “I am going to have so much fun with you.” he muttered before pulling me toward him and kissing me. We both sucked in deep breaths at the motion, me immediately closing my eyes and kissing him back. I felt his scruff scratch my face and it only added to the pleasure as our mouths moved in sync, he didn’t waste time in taking over the kiss. He bit my lip for a moment causing me to let out a small whimper, and took that chance to slide his tongue in and continue to deepen the kiss. I could smell his cologne and taste the faint bitterness of tobacco as he pushed me to sit on the bed.

I looked up at him and he smiled, both of us breathing hard before he began to unbuckle his belt. It was at this point I noticed his arousal and also my own, shifting slightly to rub my thighs together and help the aching heat that was dampening my panties. He took off his jeans as well as his shirt and I swallowed nervously, staring up at him with big eyes. “Open your mouth doll.” he ordered and I complied, opening it slightly but he pulled my jaw down more. He finally released his hardened cock from his boxers, stroking it slowly with a small groan leaving his lips. “Are you ready princess?” I nodded, “I want to hear you say it.” he instructed. “Yes Sir.” I smiled, now regaining some confidence in my skills, and being drunk with my hormones, wanting nothing more than some sort of contact. He smiled, “Good girl.” he praised and watched as I opened my mouth once again, taking him in slowly.

I started with taking my time, moving my head before pulling away to lick the tip. He let out a hiss and I smiled, a tad frustrated my hands were bound together. I licked up his hard and rather big dick, wrapping my lips around it once more and moving painfully slow. I felt his hand grip my ponytail as he glanced down at me, “Don’t be a fucking tease.” he practically growled and I pulled away to get air before returning, this time quickening the pace. He let out some muttered curses before slightly thrusting his hips as well, holding my hair and guiding my head as well. I felt my eyes brim with tears as he fucked my mouth with more force and I focused on not choking. “Mmm fuck im going to have to stop or I might just cum all down your throat.” he laughed as he pulled me back slowly. I took in some breaths and he wiped the few tears that fell before stoking his thumb across my red and puffy lips. “No wonder Rick didn’t want you leaving.” he quipped before standing me up again.

He reached around me to unclasp my bra and I felt my nerves rush through me again, but I mainly wanted him to get on with it, I however couldn’t bring myself to beg just yet. He slid the straps down, freeing my breasts from the lace and untying my wrists for a moment to toss it to the side and binding them once more. He wasted no time in kissing me again, rough and hungry, moving down my neck and sucking on the tender skin, surely leaving marks in the sensitive areas before moving down and taking a nipple between his lips. I let out a small moan at the action and felt him smile before nipping it gently. He moved town my torso before hooking his fingers in the lace underwear and pulling them down my thighs. I stepped out of them and he bit his lip. He raised a hand and softly teased my now dripping heat, with hardly any pressure he rubbed his fingers over my clit causing me to whine, but that was all I allowed myself to let out. He pushed a bit harder, running his fingers through my folds and returning to my clit. Breathing over me, the vile man moved his fingers in circles over the sensitive nerve and I squirmed under his taunting touch.

“Cant bring yourself to ask princess?” he spoke out and I looked at him with annoyed but desperate eyes. He continued working on me and quickly inserted a finger, not enough to grant me any kind of relief but enough to encourage me. He moved it in and out, rubbing my clit as he did and watching as my eyebrows furrowed and I fought to keep my eyes on him. After a few torturous minutes of him going agonizingly slow I couldn't handle it anymore. “Fuck Negan fine just fuck me already, I need more.” I whined out, clearly annoyed at letting him win and he smiled big in response. “I knew you couldn’t last long. Get on your stomach.” he ordered swiftly pulling his finger out of my cunt and pushing me back gently. I did as I was told and managed to lay down semi comfortably with my hands tied. I heard him step closer and he roughly grabbed my hips before pulling me up to my knees, my upper half still pressed into the mattress. “Sure you can handle me doll?” he teased, pressing his tip to my entrance and rubbing it against my folds, I pressed back in response but he gripped me firmly and kept me still.

“Please- fuck.” I groaned out and he scoffed before shoving into me harshly. “Ahh!” I yelled out at the action, feeling my walls stretching to his size, my slick helping him slide in and out with ease, but still it stung to be filled up with him. The pain bleeding to pleasure as he began to quickly thrust into me. I squeezed my eyes shut as his cock roughly hit against my g spot, earning a moan which I attempted to muffle in the mattress but he reached for my pony tail, pulling me up to be flush with his chest, still he fucked hard up into me with one hand on my stomach to stabilize me, “Don’t bother hiding those pretty little screams darling, everyone knows exactly what I’m doing to you.” he taunted and I whined out a “Fuck” as he rutted into me, roughly slamming in and out of my cunt, I felt my eyes get heavy at the euphoric feeling and I leaned my head back on his shoulder, as his hand on my stomach slid down to rub my clit. “Oh fuck Negan-” I moaned and he quickened his pace, “Fuck yes princess that’s what I wanted to hear.” he groaned in response, I could feel his hot breath on my cheek as he spoke and my walls tightened around him.

“I bet Rick didn't fuck you like this and I bet he couldn't make you cum as hard as I'm going to.” I moaned at his statement and he smiled, both of us knowing it was the truth, Rick was good for a quick fuck but no one had ever compared to how Negan was plowing into me now. I felt myself quickly getting closer and closer to the edge as he pressed harder circles into my clit and didn't stop his relentless thrusts into my core. “Oh god- fuck” I stammered out trying to form words but not being able to focus on anything but finishing. “Negan i’m so close-” I winced out and he fucked me harder at my words, “Go ahead and cum all over me princess.” he groaned in my ear, letting a moan out as well, feeling my walls squeeze around his hard and throbbing cock. I screamed out as I came, waves crashing through my body at the release. He fucked me through my orgasm and I felt my body grow tired.

He pulled out of me and I let out a whine before he turned me to face him and pushed me to lay down on the bed on my back. I spread my legs for him and he flashed a smile, “Such a good girl, I didn’t even have to ask.” he mocked and grabbed my tied hands, forcefully pushing them above my head and sliding into me all in one motion. “Mmm shit.” I muttered at the addicting feeling of him filling me again, feeling friction against my sensitive clit as he slammed into me at a new angle and speed, making my skin crawl in pleasure. “Harder Negan- please.” I squirmed beneath him as he leaned to suck on my nipples again and then come up to kiss me just as rough. “I want you to cum again for me sweetheart, and I want you to wait for me.” he ordered and I shook my head as he responded to my request and fucked me harder. “No- Negan I cant.” I whined already feeling another orgasm approaching at the new position.

“Yes you can, you’re gonna fucking have to or ill keep making you cum until you fucking pass out princess.” He groaned in a serious tone as he continued his motions. I moaned out and tried to keep myself from arriving as he moved to squeeze my hips tight, digging his fingers into them to leave marks just as he did on my neck. “God you feel so fucking good.” he said, kissing me again and running his tongue along mine as we both breathed hard into the sloppy kiss. “Untie me please Negan I want to touch you.” I begged and he looked me in my eyes debating my plea. He let a smile creep to his face, and he gave me a look, one I interpreted as needing to beg for it a little harder. “Please Ne- Sir!” I corrected testing to see if that would be more convincing. “Well since you asked so nicely doll.” he responded, pausing his movements for a second allowing me to roll my hips and fuck his cock as he untied my wrists. As soon as I could move them apart I wrapped a hand around his back and the other tangled in his hair as he didn’t hesitate in picking back up his previous pace. I dug my nails into his back and tugged on his hair, “Fuck that was a good idea,” he groaned and I smirked at the praise and the fact he enjoyed the slight sting of the scratches to his back.

I could tell he was close since his thrusts got slower and deeper, now focusing on pushing into my g spot. I held myself together, my second orgasm creeping up and waiting to be released. “Shit- I’m about to cum in your tight little pussy babydoll.” he revealed in a whisper to my ear and I moaned. “Glad we are on the same page.” he teased and I held close to him as my cunt gripped around his dick, eager to let go. “Fuck Negan- yes.” I moaned and he sped up again going even faster as he reached between us and rubbed his large fingers around my clit. “Ngh- I’m so close please can I cum.” I begged and he ignored my cries, continuing to grunt in my ear as he got closer to his own release. “You aren’t going to wanna fuck anyone else after this.” he reminded me, and it was probably true, if this was Negan’s idea of a typical first-fuck, I could only imagine the other pleasures he was capable of giving me.

“Fuck sweetheart I’m gonna fill you up with my cum.” I didn’t have the energy nor will to disagree, and this far in I wanted nothing more than to have him dripping out of my cunt by the end of this. I felt my orgasm get close and I moved my lips to his shoulder, “Don’t you fucking bite me-” he said just barely audible between his groans, “Fuck- you can cum now princess.” he yelled and I ignored his previous request as I let my orgasm crash over me and I bit down on his shoulder as I came. He hissed as he came as well, shooting his hot cum inside of me, and I moaned against his skin. “Ah shit- you fucking brat.” he shouted in disbelief and exhaust but didn’t stop his hips from shoving into me as we rode out our highs.

After a few more thrusts he pulled out and I let go of him as he sat back to watch his seed drip out of me. Once he was satisfied with the little show he looked back up at me who was still trying to catch my breath. He swiftly placed a light slap to my cheek to which I stared back in shock, it wasn’t very painful but my cheek was going to sting for at least a few minutes. “That’s for fucking biting me.” I couldn’t help the smirk that creeped on my face as I sat up and he went to collect his pants, tossing me my dress only. “Oh don’t act like you didn’t fucking love that, I could practically feel your dick twitch inside me when I did.” I teased and he scoffed pulling up his pants as I slipped on my dress, “I have some work i have to do, unfortunately, but feel free to explore the community, don’t go too far though I’m going to want to go for round two when I get back and we are gonna test out some things.” he winked, slipping on his jacket and grabbing the infamous bat from beside the door. “Ill see you later princess.” with that he left and I sat in the mess we had caused processing what we had done, and just exactly who it was id done it with. Only laughing to myself before cleaning up and taking advantage of his absence and going to explore.

a/n well that was longer than I planned but let me know what you guys think!

#negan x reader #negan x reader smut #the walking dead #negan fanfiction #jeffery dean morgan

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dearviper · 3 years ago

Text

Certain Dark Things Chapter 17: I Know

WARNINGS: 18+ (minors dni!); fear of rape/murder mentioned; stalking/shrine to stalking victim; blood/murder; unwanted touching/kissing (Check the replies for where to stop/restart reading if you want to avoid these while reading the chapter!)

Table of Contents | My Masterlist

Apart from any cameras Edward had hidden in his bedroom (and you wouldn’t put it past him), you were completely alone in the apartment. Your mind was racing, unable to land on any one worry for too long before another took its place.

Edward’s going to kill.

He’s killed before.

He’s thought about killing me.

He’s thought about worse.

“Our first time,” he had said.

He’s going to rape me.

He’s going to do it soon.

Not until his “guest” leaves though, right?

Who is his guest?

I’ll find out when he’s back from killing the mayor.

Edward’s going to kill the mayor.

Your thoughts ran in this circular nature and you began to spiral with them.

Jumping up, you looked desperately for something to distract yourself with. You began to snoop through Edward’s things, potential cameras be damned.

Based on the state of the living room, you weren’t surprised that his bedroom was somewhat of a mess. Despite his apparent penchant for minimalist decor, there were plenty of random knickknacks and articles of clothing strewn about.

You set your sights on the closet first. When you opened the doors, you expected something horrible to fall out (a skeleton in the closet, either proverbial or literal).

You were almost disappointed by the normality of its contents. He had only a few shirts and pants hanging there, and the bottom of the closet was filled with a pile of the rest of his clothes.

Briefly, you wondered if that was his dirty laundry or if he just couldn’t be bothered to hang them up. Probably a bit of both, knowing Edward.

Closing the doors, you moved on to his bedside table. It was surprisingly empty apart from a notepad and pen. As with the rest of his writing, it was practically unintelligible.

You expected more plots and plans, but the only thing the pad seemed to contain was a generic to-do list. It was probably the least incriminating piece of writing in the whole apartment.

Shaking your head, you sat down on the edge of the bed. Out of sheer boredom, you tried spinning the pen around your thumb. Most of the time it just fell in your lap.

“Ha!” you exclaimed in victory when you finally got it to spin. Immediately after, the pen dropped to the floor and rolled under the bed. You scowled.

Dropping to your hands and knees, you looked under the bed for it. Though you did find the pen, another object piqued your curiosity more.

Reaching past the writing utensil, you took hold of the shoe box you spotted and pulled it from under the bed. The box was clearly worn, but not dusty.

He must go in here a lot, you reasoned, standing back up and placing the box on the bed.

For a moment you hesitated, but your curiosity got the best of you and you flipped up the lid — and froze.

Right on top were Polaroids of you. In some you were sleeping, in some you were getting ready for work. In almost all of them, you were in some state of undress.

Your heart rate skyrocketed as you shuffled through them, each causing more duress than the last.

You should have stopped looking through the box then, but you couldn’t stop yourself. In morbid fascination, you delved further into his shrine to you.

The photographs had been resting on a pile of fabric you now recognized as the pair of panties you thought had gotten lost in the wash.

With revulsion, you noticed how unnaturally stiff most of the cotton was and immediately dropped the underwear. This wasn’t just a shrine — this was his pornography.

Your stomach twisted as you hastily threw the photographs back in and shoved the box under the bed where you had found it.

Sitting on the edge of his mattress again, you tried to calm your disturbed mind. When your nausea dissipated, all that remained was anger.

Just when you thought you knew of all his transgressions, you had found another. He did not view you as someone with autonomy- but no, that wasn’t quite true, was it?

He knew of your agency, and he got off on violating it. On taking it away from you.

Taking a few deep breaths, you tried to center yourself to no avail. Your hands were shaking with barely-contained fury, and you had to ball them in your lap to quell them.

In the rest of the time you were alone, your rage reached its zenith and then died down. Eventually, you managed to get a few hours of sleep in.

That sleep was interrupted when the front door banged open early in the morning. Unlike your room, Edward’s was not even remotely soundproof, and you woke up with a start.

Your heart leapt to your throat as you momentarily forgot where you were, and thought someone might be breaking into your apartment — until you heard his voice.

”Don’t worry, Commissioner, I’ve saved you our finest suite.”

Edward’s voice was muffled by the walls (and likely by his mask as well), but you knew it was him. There was a sound like something heavy being dragged across the hallway floor and then a door creaking open.

You listened with rapt attention, but no discernible sound came from the room.

After a few minutes, you heard the door slam shut and Edward’s footsteps down the hall. You quickly flipped onto your side with your back to the door and began taking deep breaths, feigning sleep.

Slowly, you heard the bedroom door creak open. Edward called your name softly, testing to see if you were awake. You did not respond at first, but then he called it again a bit louder and you pretended to stir.

“Edward?” you tried to murmur drowsily.

“Are you awake?��

“Yeah, I am now,” you responded.

Not like you gave me much of a choice, you thought irritably.

He was hovering outside the doorway with an air of uncertainty, concealed by the shadows of the hall. Though you knew he was waiting for you to ask about his night, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

Eventually, he took an impatient step into the room. You let out a gasp at the sight of him, your hand flying up to cover your mouth.

He was terrifying to behold. The mayor’s blood had dyed most of his clothing an almost-black shade of red. He still wore the mask, and his breath was coming through it heavy and wet.

The worst, though, was that he continued to approach you. All you could see were his eyes, but it was enough to strike fear in your heart.

His pupils were blown wide and his eyes jumped all across the room in a frenzy. Again, you wondered if he had a Drop habit. But his gait was too controlled for that, his movements too precise.

He stood before you, trembling in exhilaration. You didn’t dare speak, afraid of any reaction you might provoke. It didn’t stop him, though.

Reaching a gloved hand out, he caressed your cheek as he had so many times before. But this time you jerked away at the wet feeling of his glove.

You swiped your cheek and examined the residue he left behind. In horror, you realized that he had smeared blood on your face.

“Jesus Christ, Edward!” you shrieked, unable to control yourself as you tried to scramble away.

His hand closed over your collar, though, and he yanked you up to a kneeling position on the bed. You were almost eye-level with him like this, but desperately tried to look anywhere else beside his face.

He wasn’t having that.

His hand closed around your jaw, painting your face with more red and causing bile to rise in your throat.

“Riddler,” he hissed out. “Not Edward.”

You nodded frantically, too fearful to pull your face from his grasp. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, mixing with the blood as they continued their journey down your neck and to your chest.

Edward- no, the Riddler’s eyes followed their path with curiosity before snapping back up to meet your own.

“You look so pretty when you cry,” he crooned in that strange, altered voice.

He tried to wipe away your tears with his thumb, but ended up smudging a new streak of blood across your cheek. With his free hand he pulled off his mask, revealing the plastic wrap underneath.

“Take it off,” he commanded.

You quickly obeyed, unwinding the plastic and letting it fall to the ground. When you were done you started to lower your hands, but he caught one and brought it back up to his face.

For a moment, he simply held it there. You could see the hesitancy in his eyes as he deliberated before bringing your palm to his lips.

It was such a strangely intimate act, so incongruous with the violence of the situation that for a moment you forgot. Your lips parted and a soft, involuntary breath escaped them.

He paused, eyes flickering back up to yours at the noise. Then, he began to move again. He placed another kiss on your wrist, and trailed a few more up your forearm.

You were deathly still, unsure of what to do. He didn’t give you much time to think about it, though, as he suddenly crushed you against his chest.

His hungry mouth sought out your own as he kissed you sloppily. More aggressive than when he had kissed your palm, his teeth gnashed against yours and dug into the soft skin of your lips. You yelped in pain, but it just seemed to encourage him.

When you felt his hard length digging into your hip, you decided you had had enough. You pushed back from him, sucking in a deep breath to replenish your oxygen.

“The- the blood,” you lied, trying not to anger him. “The smell is making me nauseous.”

His hands were wrapped around your wrists. For a moment it seemed like he wouldn’t let go, but eventually he dropped them and left the room.

After a minute, you heard the shower turn on and breathed a sigh of relief. You glanced down at your stained clothes, vision swimming as it finally hit you that you were covered in a dead man’s blood.

Numbly, you traded your soiled clothes for a (hopefully clean) set of pajamas sitting on the chair in the corner of his room.

You turned off the light and climbed back into bed, though you knew you wouldn’t sleep.

A few minutes later, Edward joined you without asking. You did not protest.

Despite his shower and despite the fresh clothes, the smell of blood still lingered.

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#edward nashton x reader #edward nygma x reader #riddler x reader #Edward Nashton #edward nygma #the riddler #riddler #paul dano #batman #certain dark things #dearviper

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fruitcoops · 4 years ago

Note

I love your babysitting jules fic and the tell me how you know your boyfriend won't cheat on you fic. I was thinking, like remus and sirius have a day off and spend it with jules, and sirius goes somewhere and comes back to find remus and jules sleeping on the flour and they look similar and he just smiles.

Idk, hope this makes sense, I love all your fics.

It totally makes sense and it’s super cute! Thanks for such a wonderful suggestion <3 This is Part 4 of Adventures in Babysitting (1 2 3)

Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

As much as Sirius loved hockey, he had to admit break days were his favorite part of the week. Most weekends, he and Remus would roll out of bed sometime around eleven, have lunch, go for a walk, and then turn into total couch potatoes if they didn’t have anything important to do.

But they had a kid now, so that plan had to change.

They managed to stay in bed until nine before soft rustling sounds began in Jules’ room—Remus’ aggressive cuddling delayed them for a bit longer, which Sirius did not have any complaints about, but eventually they knew it was time to move.

“Dinner’s at six, right?” Sirius asked as he washed his face while Remus tracked down a t-shirt. Shirtless mornings were another tragic sacrifice while Jules was around.

“Yep. Dumo said we could get there at five-thirty, though. Apparently, Katie’s been dying to see Jules again.” Remus kissed the back of his shoulder as he reached for a toothbrush. “I was thinking we could just let him choose what we do today.”

“Makes it a lot easier on us.”

“And it makes it extra special for him,” Remus mumbled around a mouthful of toothpaste. “We still get veto power, though.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

Jules was still in his bedroom when they went downstairs and for a fleeting moment, Sirius wondered if they had woken up early for nothing. “He’ll be down soon,” Remus said as if he could read his mind, pressing two coffee cups into Sirius’ hands. “All those cool knickknacks in the guest room will keep him distracted for a bit.”

Sure enough, excited footsteps followed a sharp gasp less than ten minutes later. Remus smiled over the rim of his coffee cup and walked over to the pantry to pull out the pancake mix. “Morning—"

“Is it true you won the regional All-Stars when you were in high school?” Jules blurted as he skidded into the kitchen and shoved a small trophy into Sirius’ hands, panting like he had run a mile.

Sirius squinted down at the little figurine; in all honesty, he had forgotten he even had it. “Where did you find this?”

“In the nightstand. Is it true?”

“Uh, yeah, it is.” He set it on the counter with their other random items. “Thanks for finding it, bud.”

Jules glowed under his approval and Remus bit his lip to stifle laughter. “Re, can we have chocolate pancakes?”

“We don’t have any chocolate chips, sorry,” Remus said as he mixed the batter. Liar. Sirius shot him a look, and he stuck out his tongue playfully behind Jules’ back. “We’ve got some fun news, though.”

“What?”

“There’s no practice today and you get to decide what we do.”

Jules’ jaw dropped. “Really?”

“Mhmm.”

“Awesome! Mom and Dad never want to see the cool stuff because they’re busy with museums and games and friends but there are so many places I wanna go,” Jules said in one rushing breath. Sirius blinked in shock, but Remus seemed unfazed as he handed the spatula over. “Thanks!”

“Sure thing.”

“Sirius, what are your favorite places?” Jules turned to him, still licking the spatula like his life depended on it.

Sirius took a moment to think and suppress a smile. “I like the roller rink, and the aquarium, and the park.”

“We already went to the park.”

“We can go again if you want,” he laughed. “You made friends, right?”

“Yeah, but I probably won’t see them again.” Oh, to have a child’s nonchalance when it comes to friends. “The aquarium sounds really neat!”

“It’s pretty cool,” Remus agreed as he ladled out batter into the pan. “They put in a new exhibit recently.”

“Sweet! Can we go now?”

“Don’t you want pancakes?” Sirius asked. “I know I do.”

Jules nodded rapidly. “I do, too. Can I ride on your shoulders?”

“Now?”

“At the aquarium.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“How tall are you?”

Sirius paused, then gave him a conspiratorial look. “Eleven feet tall.”

Remus burst out laughing and nearly burned himself on the pan; Jules rolled his eyes. “Come on. I’m ten, that doesn’t work on me anymore.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Sirius took a sip of coffee. “I’m 191 centimeters tall.”

“Huh?”

“Almost two meters.”

Jules looked over to Remus, who shook his head with a smile. “He’s six foot three, Jules, and he’s messing with you by being fancy and Canadian.”

“How tall are you?” Jules asked, folding his knees under himself to reach the butter with his fork as Remus passed him a plate of pancakes.

Remus sighed. “Five foot eleven and a half.”

“Ha! Short.”

“Shut up, you’re still an Oompa Loompa.”

“I’m more than a foot taller than Oompa Loopmas,” Jules said haughtily, shoveling pancake into his mouth. “I looked it up the last time you called me that.”

“Look at you go! Gold star!”

Sirius cheeks were starting to hurt from holding down his laughter and Remus winked as he passed another plate over. “Thanks, love.”

“Why do couples have nicknames?” Jules asked. “I always thought it was a little weird. Mom and Dad have actual names, but they never really use them. It’s always honey, darling, other sappy stuff.”

Remus shrugged as he sat down with them. “Why do you call me Re? That’s not my full name.”

Jules thought for a second. “Partly because ‘Remus’ sounds like a stuffy old museum name.”

“Oh, and ‘Julian’ doesn’t?” Remus teased. “Usually, people give nicknames because they care about each other. Couples just have an extra level to that.”

“I don’t really like it when people call me by my full name, either,” Sirius added.

Jules frowned. “But people call you by your first name all the time.”

“They do. But my friends usually don’t. There’s Cap, Padfoot, whatever your brother comes up with that day…”

“I call you Sirius.”

“I don’t mind as much when you say it.” Because you’re adorable and I would literally do anything for you. “You can call me whatever you want.”

Jules seemed satisfied by that answer and turned back to his pancakes; Sirius caught Remus quickly looking away when he glanced back up and smiled, giving him a quick nudge with his foot. Baby, Remus mouthed with a slight smirk. Sirius rolled his eyes.

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

The aquarium was busy, but it was a weekend, after all. They only had to wait in line for ten minutes; during that time, Jules made three new friends and every single one of the parents thought he was their son. Even the ticket salesman offered them a family discount that Remus politely declined.

But…it wasn’t a bad thought. Sirius let it ruminate in the back of his mind as he helped Jules onto his shoulders and Remus grabbed a map from the kiosk for when they inevitably got turned around. Definitely not this year, or the next, but someday Sirius did want to say ‘yes’ to the parents and kids discount, though he couldn’t place his finger on why.

And then they reached the whale exhibit. A huge humpback skeleton hung from the ceiling in a smooth curve, its mouth open to reveal perfectly preserved baleen. Jules reached up and trailed his fingers through the space below its massive ribcage—he was too short to touch it still, but the pure awe on his face took Sirius’ breath away more than any deep-sea creature could.

“Baby, can you get a picture of us by the glass?” Remus asked. Ahead of them, a huge tank stretched into a tunnel that lead to the tropical exhibit; Sirius nodded and bent to let Jules down.

“Race you there!” he called, running across the well-worn blue carpet at full tilt. Remus followed him with a laugh and caught him just before they reached the glass, swinging him off his feet by the armpits and turning to face Sirius.

His throat tightened a bit as he took his phone out for the picture. They beamed at him with almost-identical smiles, right down to the dimples. That. That right there, he thought. That’s what I want. “Got it.”

“Awesome, your turn.” Remus put Jules down and began walking over, but an older man motioned to Sirius just before he put his phone away.

“Excuse me, would you like me to get a picture of all three of you?” he asked. A little girl—his granddaughter, perhaps—watched them shyly from behind his legs.

“Oh. Yes, thank you.” Sirius handed him his cell phone and went over to the glass, wrapping one arm around Remus’ waist and draping the other over Jules’ shoulder. They smiled, backlit with blues and greens and aquamarine.

“Alright, I took a few.” The man gave Sirius’ phone back and patted him on the arm as the little girl tugged his sleeve. “You have a beautiful family. Have a good day!”

Sirius didn’t fully snap out of his daze until they were in the tropical tunnel, where fish in colors he could never dream of darted back and forth and fascinated Jules. The aquarium used to be his favorite place in Gryffindor; now, it was probably his favorite place in the world.

Remus led them through a series of corridors, pausing every now and then when Jules scampered toward the next tank, though he seemed to have something on his mind. When Sirius shot him a questioning look, he kissed his cheek and held his hand instead of answering. They wandered past the sting rays, the turtles, and the sharks, until Sirius recognized the multicolored lights from the next room over and stopped in his tracks. “No.”

Remus grinned. “Yeah.”

Jules looked between them in clear confusion. “What?”

“I gotta show you something, c’mere.” Sirius crouched down and helped him back onto his shoulders, then ducked into the adjacent exhibit. Immediately, he heard Jules gasp as jellyfish surrounded them.

“Woah.”

“Isn’t it cool?” His smile was staring to hurt his cheeks. “Here, this in my favorite part.”

Sirius walked to the twelve-foot arch near the middle of the room and stood beneath it, basking in the warmth of the bright lights below as jellyfish of a billion sizes floated overhead. He sighed and leaned his head back slightly to get a better look.

Jules stretched his arms up, trying to touch the glass. “Wow,” he breathed.

When Sirius looked back down, he saw Remus lowering his phone with a small smile. “Had to get a good one,” he said as he stepped under the arch with them and leaned into Sirius’ side. Jules reached down and flipped his baseball cap backwards. “Thanks, buddy.”

“I’ve been waiting to do that for ages.”

“Good to know,” Remus laughed. “Ready to move on?”

“Just a second,” Sirius said, pulling Remus’ arm around his waist. “Just a bit longer. We’ve got nowhere to be but here.”

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

They did, in fact, have somewhere to be, though Sirius didn’t remember that until 3:30 pm. He also remembered that they were supposed to bring dessert that night and unless Remus wanted to out himself as a liar by busting out the chocolate chips in the cupboard, they needed a plan B.

The grocery store was blessedly empty when he arrived, which meant he could use self-checkout for the two containers of cookies he bought—thank god. As much fun as the aquarium was, there were so many people, and they were everywhere.

I need a nap, he thought as he walked back out to the car and watched his breath steam in the December air. And, like, half an hour by myself to listen to music.

The first thing he noticed was that the house was quiet. Hattie didn’t bark when he got out of the car, or when he unlocked the front door, or called out a hesitant “hello?” while he took his shoes off. Nothing seemed amiss, other than the fact that Jules had been bouncing off the walls when he left.

The living room held the answers to all his questions. Hattie was passed out on the couch, splayed with her belly to the ceiling. Jules and Remus were asleep on the carpet with The Fellowship of the Ring between them; clearly, they had been mid-chapter when they dozed off. Sirius set the cookies on the counter and carefully slid the book out of Remus’ hands, setting it on the coffee table before pulling the thick knitted blanket off the couch.

Hattie grumbled at him and cracked an eye open. “Shhh,” he said softly, kissing her forehead before laying the blanket over the other two. They looked so alike—their hair was nearly the same shade, and Jules’ jaw was only slightly narrower than Remus’. Sirius bet that in ten years, it would be hard to tell them apart in photos.

He crept upstairs and set a timer for 4:30. James had recommended a new band ten minutes before midnight, and Sirius figured he should at least give it a shot if it was so important. He grabbed his headphones, pressed play, and let out a deep breath as he sank back into the pillows.

Half an hour went by too fast, and before he knew it the alarm was ringing instead of the steady bass of the new song. He squinted at the clock, praying it would be wrong, and sighed when he saw that technology had won out once again.

Remus and Jules were still asleep on the floor, though they had cuddled closer at some point and the blanket nearly covered Jules entirely. Sirius crouched down next to Remus and brushed his hair off his forehead before gently shaking his shoulder. “Re. Sweetheart, it’s time to get up.”

“No,” Remus murmured.

“Come on, mon loup, dinner’s in an hour.”

“ ‘m tired. C’mere.”

“I would love to, but we promised Dumo we’d be there.”

“Sirius?” Jules blinked up at him sleepily.

“Hey, buddy.”

“We hafta get up?”

“Don’t listen to him,” Remus said without opening his eyes.

“Love you, too,” Sirius laughed quietly. “I got cookies.”

“Cookies?” Jules sat up fully at that and rubbed his eyes; Remus groaned and rolled onto his back.

“Technically, they’re for after dinner, but an exception can be made.”

Remus stared at him for a moment, then sighed and held his hands up as Jules hurried into the kitchen. “Alright, fine.”

Sirius pulled him to his feet and kissed his forehead. “We’ve got about forty-five minutes before we need to head out, okay?”

“So we could’ve napped for thirty more.”

“You could, but then you’d both be cranky.” Sirius leaned back to look into the kitchen. “Just one, Jules! Save some for Katie and the others!”

There was a beat of silence, then a heavy sigh. “Okay.”

“Thank you.”

Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius’ waist and leaned his forehead against his chest, nuzzling into his sweatshirt. “You’re so soft. And warm.”

“It’s a gift.”

“Perfect place to take a nap.”

“Oh, no you don’t.” Sirius carefully detached Remus’ grip and he exhaled slowly.

“Thank you for picking up cookies, baby. Was there anything else we needed to bring?”

“Just ourselves.” He placed another kiss to his cheek and Remus stretched his arms over his head.

“Oof. Okay. I’ll go get a different shirt on and wrangle the kid if you want to find a plate to pretend the cookies are ours.”

“You read my mind,” Sirius said, earning himself a proper kiss before Remus turned and headed into the kitchen.

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

They pulled into Dumo’s driveway at 5:40, which wasn’t bad, all things considered. Jules and Katie disappeared in a hurricane of excited rambling as soon as the door opened and Dumo burst out laughing the second he saw them. “Welcome to parenthood,” he said, pulling them each in for a hug. “How are you liking your free trial?”

“I’ve never been more exhausted in my life.” Remus shook his head as he took his coat off. “But I love it, for some reason.”

“That sums it up.” Celeste stood on her tiptoes to kiss each of Sirius’ cheeks. “Did you bring dessert?” He wordlessly held the plate out and she raised an eyebrow. “You remembered at…4 pm.”

“3:30.”

“You’re getting better, mon fils. Marc, Adele, come set the table!” Upstairs, two different sets of footsteps tumbled over each other as they came running down the stairs; both crashed into Sirius for hugs, just like they had when he first moved in.

“Bonjour,” he laughed, squeezing them tight and planting kisses to the tops of their heads. “I hope Regulus hasn’t been driving you too crazy.”

“I think he’s still asleep,” Adele said as she stepped back. Celeste shooed them both toward the dining room as Sirius raised his eyebrows.

“Un moment, s’il vous plait.” Dumo and Remus wandered off to supervise the kids while Sirius headed for the basement door. Regulus was nearly twenty years old—it wasn’t like he needed those blankets at six in the evening, anyway, and Sirius was only too happy to give him a rousing wake-up call. It was his right as an older brother.

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ncssian · 4 years ago

Text

A Favor: Part Seven

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: so this chapter doesn't exactly have a hay bale maze but it has something even better :)

***

Being a legal consultant is surprisingly easy.

Years of studying business law in order to take down big corporations in the courtroom is now being used to help a big corporation— Nesta wants to be disgusted at the state of her morals. Fortunately for her, all the issues that have come across her desk so far are minor negotiation matters. The way Night Court Inc. is run is virtually perfect, and she almost hopes a blatant lawsuit drops into her lap just so she can give Rhysand and his sycophantic workers hell.

Though Nesta knows better than to dream big. This is essentially busy work that Night Court’s actual lawyers don't have time to do, but she's grateful for it either way. She's grateful for the man who got her this job even more.

When her car finally gets back from the auto shop one sunny November morning, Cassian suggests they go out to celebrate.

“Celebrate what?” Nesta says. “Not having to rely on you for rides anymore?”

“Exactly that.” Cassian grins and leans his elbow against the kitchen counter. “There’s a fall festival an hour north of here that pops up every year. There's good food and hot cider. Let’s go.” He nudges her excitedly.

Nesta narrows her eyes at him. “You’ve been planning this,” she accuses.

“I go every year,” he shrugs. “Come on, we have the whole day ahead of us.”

He makes pleading puppy eyes that have absolutely no effect on Nesta, but she doesn't want to hurt his ego by letting him know that.

There is nothing appealing to her about going out into the cold and doing autumn-related activities, so she surprises herself and Cassian both when she agrees to go. He rewards her with a wide smile and tells her to get ready.

Nesta feels oddly giddy afterward. She can't recognize the feeling, so she tamps down on it while she gets dressed and braids her hair.

Outside, her burgeoning smile drops when she sees Cassian getting the truck started. “I thought the point of this was that we could use my car now.” She gestures to her beat up blue sedan, a sad little thing parked next to Cassian’s fancy truck.

“Nes, if I thought your car could go anywhere near a mountain road without falling to pieces, I would get in it without hesitation.”

It's as close to apologetic sympathy as she’ll get from him, so she only grumbles a little before climbing into the passenger seat she's gotten all too familiar with.

The door slams as Cassian gets in the driver’s seat, and something on the dashboard catches Nesta’s attention. Reaching out, she picks up one of her coloring books and her zipper bag full of markers and pencils.

She glances at Cassian. “Is this for me?”

He looks up from where he’s buckling his seatbelt. “Oh, I just picked it up on my way out. Cell signal gets spotty the closer we get to the mountains, so you might get bored.”

Nesta looks down at the coloring book she's clutching, surprised.

“Did you want anything else before we leave?” Cassian says. “I can run inside and pick up some books.”

“No— no, this is good,” she says softly. She flips the page open to a fresh landscape scene, black on white lines staring back at her. “Thank you.”

She unzips her pencil bag with a new reverence, barely noticing as they pull out of the driveway and head for the highway leading out of town.

Nesta is intent on her coloring the entire ride, falling far too easily into that little bubble of her own mind where she forgets that other things and people exist. Cassian, unlike most people, doesn't seem to mind this. He's content with driving in the quiet, the only sound the soft crackle of the radio and the scratch of Nesta’s pencils.

She’s trying to get the blue shades of the lake just right when she feels the truck start to slow, and she looks up to see that they're in some kind of parking lot. Ahead, a market-carnival setup sits at the base of the mountains, and it sprawls as far as her eyes can see. “We’re here already?”

“Yeah.” Cassian glances at her hesitantly. “Is it lame?” He gestures to the autumn-themed affair, as if he’ll turn around and drive them right back home if it isn't to Nesta’s liking.

Nesta can’t pay the festival any attention yet. “I’m not done with this picture yet,” she says simply. She holds it up for Cassian to see, even though he probably can't tell that the mostly-completed picture is still missing a couple of details.

He just says, “We’ll wait till you're finished, then.”

She brightens with relief, and takes her time adjusting the colors of the landscape to her liking. As soon as she's satisfied with what she has, though, she throws her pencils and book down like they're on fire and grabs her coat. “Let's go,” she demands.

If Cassian is surprised at her sudden change of pace, he hides it well and follows Nesta onto the fairground. “Slow down,” he calls for her.

Perhaps the fall season isn't terrible, Nesta thinks as they buy warm candied apples. The air smells nice and the weather is brisk and Cassian stands so close to her that she never quite gets cold.

It feels almost like a date.

Nesta glances at Cassian from the corner of her eye as she chews on her apple. Wind ruffles his hair and his brown cheeks are flushed red, but he looks content. It's too bad they're just friends, because this would have been a nice date.

She has to stop her train of thought before she gets distracted by how Cassian’s hand isn't holding anything, and how her hand isn't holding anything, and maybe their hands should—

She makes a fist with her free hand and shoves it into her coat pocket. This is why she doesn't usually have friends, she remembers— because she can never stop hungering for more.

Nesta and Cassian’s not-date is spent with Cassian throwing his money at every other thing he sees on sale, and Nesta biting her tongue at the unnecessary waste of it all.

“Eight dollars for a cup of cider? Come on, you're being scammed.” Nesta pulls at his elbow, trying to lead him away from the drinks stand.

“But it comes in one of those cute little jars,” Cassian protests as he’s pulled away.

There’s a laughably small hay-bale maze that they complete in less than three minutes, thanks to Cassian being tall enough to see over the hay bales. Then there’s a ferris wheel that Nesta adamantly refuses to get onto, regardless of how high it goes or not. And then, without either of them noticing, the sun starts slipping behind the mountains.

With her arms full of bags of snacks and random knickknacks that she’ll never need in her life, Nesta finds herself back in the market area.

There’s a painting at an art stand that has caught her attention. Something about the brush strokes and choice of color palette… it reminds her of Feyre’s art style. Amateur, but warm and comforting, clearly made with love and dedication. She approaches the elder salesman carefully, only wanting a closer look at the piece.

It’s of a glittering forest in the peak of autumn, ruby and flame-colored leaves littering the scene. An unwalked pathway cuts through the scene, and a longing Nesta can’t place swells in her stomach.

“My daughter painted this one,” the salesman says to her, pride peeking through his voice. She glances up at the kind-faced man. “Only this one?” she asks. The rest of the paintings don’t have the same art style, Feyre’s style.

“Yes.” He places a protective hand over the canvas. “She’s still learning, but she’s got heart and potential. One day she’ll be a better artist than me.”

Nesta blinks at his words. “How much is it?”

“How much do you have?”

She looks down at her hands full of shopping bags and realizes not one of them is carrying her wallet. “Oh, I must have left my money with my—” She glances up then and looks around. “Cassian?”

He was just here with her. They were walking together and she took note of the pretty fairy lights that were starting to turn on, and then she saw the art stand. She scans the milling crowd for a glimpse of his face, but it’s five p.m. and fully dark now.

Unease starts to pump in her chest. “Cassian?” she calls again. She wanders away from the art stand, painting and salesman forgotten. Maneuvering her full hands, she wrangles her phone out of her back pocket and turns it on. Just as she suspected— no signal. Waving it high in the air doesn’t do much for her either.

Shoving her phone back in her pocket, Nesta takes a strained breath and resolves to keep looking. If she can’t find him, she can always make her way back to the parking lot—

Something shoves hard into Nesta’s back, and her glasses slip right off her nose in the collision. She feels a metallic crunch under her boot and gasps. Suddenly there are people everywhere, heading in the opposite direction that she is, and whoever bumped into her yells a quick apology that gets lost in the crush of bodies.

Nesta stumbles out of the crowd, blinking quickly. She can’t see a thing, and the fairy lights are now blurry orbs. “My glasses—” she says to nobody. She scans the flattened grass and dirt furiously, squinting until she gets a headache, but she can’t find them. “Shit.”

She ends up roaming out of the market area, finding herself back on the fairgrounds. There are a few tents around her, but they're empty and the noise has died down. She doesn’t know where she’s going.

At one point, Nesta simply drops her bags and keeps walking without them. She barely notices leaving them behind. The magic has drained out of the festival, and she just wants to find her way back to Cassian’s truck. If the ferris wheel is that way, then the exit should be that way… she thinks.

She looks around in the dark, frustrated tears rising at her inability to recognize anything. She's alone. She’s cold. She was abandoned.

Nesta doesn't know how long she stands there, hopeless in some deserted corner of the fairgrounds. She forgets what she's supposed to be doing, and just stands there staring at nothing. Escaping to a numbing void in her mind.

The desperate call of her name brings her back to earth.

Blinking, Nesta turns around to find a tall figure heading towards her. Cassian.

He’s holding something in his hand, she can tell, but he drops it when he sees her face and breaks into a run.

“Nesta!” Hard warmth crashes into her as strong arms grab her and yank her close. Her face presses into his chest, and hot tears fall despite the lingering numbness.

“Where did you go?” Cassian is demanding. “You had me so fucking scared—”

“I lost my glasses,” she says weakly into the wool of his coat.

“I know.” He goes from stroking her back to clutching her face. His thumbs rub at the wetness beneath her eyes, and finally she can see his face. He’s close enough that she can read every detail, their foreheads pressed tightly together. He isn't letting go.

She presses her lips together. “I lost you.”

“I know.”

In the next moment, Nesta feels everything all at once: Cassian’s heavy breath on her face, his fingers digging into her scalp, his hazel eyes looking relieved and apologetic and terrified at the same time. His heartbeat racing beneath her hands.

For the briefest eternity, Nesta and Cassian share the same mind. They are thinking the exact same thing.

There’s a moment of painful hesitation, where Nesta has the opportunity to pull away. She doesn't take it, and by then it's too late— Cassian’s mouth is on hers.

Oh. Oh.

Nesta buckles a little under the weight of his kiss, but he holds her upright with his grip. His fingers wind so tightly into her braid she worries he might undo the whole thing, but then she's tucking her cold hands into the warmth of his sweater and wow, what a wonderful end to a terrible night.

His lips break from hers for a breath, only to come in again and kiss her deeper this time. A helpless noise escapes from one or both of them. She’s unraveling with every stroke of his tongue, and she thinks distantly that if kisses were flavored, this one would be sweet enough to make her teeth ache.

It's over far too soon, with Cassian’s series of kisses slowing until they stop completely. He pulls back far enough that they both have room to breathe, and with oxygen comes sharp reality.

For once, Nesta has no words. Her thought process is a tape jammed on a few moments ago, so Cassian is the one that has to slowly drop his hands from her hair and clear his throat.

“Let's go home,” is all he says.

***

The drive back to the cabin is silent. Nesta puts her earbuds in and turns on music as soon as they get in the truck, and halfway home Cassian glances over and realizes she's fallen asleep.

His knuckles are white on the steering wheel, and it's a struggle to keep his eyes on the headlight-lit road ahead.

Losing track of Nesta with no way to contact her was one thing, but nothing scared Cassian more than when his eyes caught the metallic glint of broken gold rims in the trampled dirt of the marketplace.

After running from stall to stall searching for Nesta, only one man was able to give Cassian a straight answer. “She was looking at some art and then she went that way,” the old salesman pointed. “She seemed upset; I think she was looking for you.”

The pieces of Nesta's glasses sit in a bag in the backseat now, tucked alongside a canvas painting of an autumn landscape.

The relief Cassian felt when he found her in one piece, when she turned to him with the saddest eyes— he was more cemented in his feelings for her in that moment than in any late night he’d spent dreaming about her.

And when she looked at him like that, fighting not to cry… it was over for him. Weeks of restraint that he hadn't even noticed building up snapped at the last second, until he was kissing Nesta like it was his final dying wish. All of it, utterly over.

He glances over to her now, where she sleeps with her head against the fogged window, exhausted after the day she's had. His hands twitch with the temptation to reach out and touch her.

Gravel crunches as Cassian pulls up into the driveway, and he looks at Nesta again and sighs. He almost goes to wake her, but changes his mind at the last moment and gets out of the car instead. Circling around to the passenger side, he opens the door and carefully lifts her out of her seat.

Her head lolls against his chest, but she doesn't wake. Stress and high emotions have no doubt knocked her out for the rest of the night.

Realizing there's no way to unlock the front door while holding Nesta, Cassian has to circle around to the back of the cabin, entering through the open kitchen door and carrying her on silent feet up the stairs.

Once she's safely tucked in her bed, Cassian can relax his shoulders for the first time all night. Later, he sits down in the half-lit kitchen with Nesta’s broken glasses before him. The frame is split right down the middle, but he already knows Nesta won't allow him to get her a new pair. He’ll need wire and some pliers.

Tying his hair back, he settles down and gets to work.

***

a/n: i'm trying to apologize less for my work but this chapter is not only short and late but also super iffy in terms of writing quality 🥴 so im sorry. if my secret snowflake gift has anything to do with it part 8 will also be a little late (i'm looking for balance guys i really am).

tagging: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @sensitiveillyrian @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01

#a favor #ncssianwrites #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian fic #nessian au

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rein-ette · 3 years ago

Note

Hi~

Can I have your hcs for kinks and general unsuitable behavior for our tumblr sexyman Lord Kirkland? (bonus points for any time specific nsfw hcs)

Alrighty *cracks knuckles* this'll serve nicely as my entrance ticket to hell

[clearly this is Not Appropriate do you need a warning]

Positions and Locations

1. Incidentally I also think Arthur prefers to bottom, but in engport's particular case I don't think it matters because even if Arthur ends up topping more with Port, he gets his needs met by others (mainly Francis because Francis definitely prefers to top)

1a. technically speaking arthur has no preference when it comes to physically being on top or bottom, he just prefers prostate orgasms so if he does top he'll sometimes wear a plug or wait to come

2. From the 15th-18th centuries (give or take) he liked doing it in all sorts of thrilling places: ships, crows nests, prison cells, important people's offices, libraries, battlefields, random historical buildings. But nowadays he appreciates the material comforts more and likes a nice soft bed -- though he still has sex way more than is probably moral in his office/his partner's office

3. Bonus non-nsfw hc (i'll just sprinkle these in): I love the idea that Arthur dozes off really easily when he feels comfortable, like a cat. He might not even know he's comfortable, but he'll often fall asleep curled on Port's bedspread or on Francis' couch cuz it just feels floofy and familiar and his cat brain is like, ok naptime! In terms of sleeping arrangements he also feels safest when there's someone (he trusts) between him and the door -- Port is the only one to whom he's verbally confessed this (because he thinks it's embarrassing that he needs to be "protected") and Gabi has made it a point to remember this preference for centuries.

Sexual Orientation/Preferred Types

4. He's more into men than women, and tries to avoid women entirely when it comes to casual sex. He will sleep with nations he knows well like Belgium, Hungary, or some of the German states, but if it's picking someone up at a bar (which he did way more often in the 60s and 70s than now) it's definitely a guy.

4a. he usually goes for guys broader/stronger/taller than him so he can be held down and fucked silly. Not really into twinks (Kiku is an exception but that is cuz no one can match Arthur kink for kink like Japan)

5. I've already said this to you cake but it bears repeating: Arthur almost exclusively fucks drama queens. Never mind that he bitches about France's mercurial moods or Port's spontaneous "leave me alone" rants, guys like Norway or Germany just don't do it for him. Nor do the constantly cheerful ones like Italy or the constantly annoyed ones like Romano. He loves that melancholy aura, that "I'm not sulking I'm thinking" attitude, that maudlin je ne sais quoi at 4 AM. He wants them moody and slightly salty about everything, that's what he wants.

Kinks

6. Spanking, caning, flogging. Scot (or was it wales?) once described Arthur's sexual preferences in a fic as "alarmingly public-school for someone who's only attended university" and it doesn't get clearer than that. He loves being manhandled in general and while he will keep an eye open when he's with strangers or nations he doesn't know as well, when his frequent lovers indulge him he's down for anything that doesn't draw (too much) blood.

7. He likes bondage; both giving and receiving. Gags, spreader bars, the whole lot. He has a collection, right next to his riding crops ;)

8. Collars. COLLARS. He's not into actual pet play but he LOVES collars and if he's feeling especially freaky, leashes. It turns him on so bad whether he's the one wearing it or the one holding the leash.

9. Praise and humiliation both do it for him. He's one of the best when it comes to dishing it out (he's got the spewing filth while sounding prim and proper thing down to an art).

10. He appreciates toys and makes good use of Francis' extensive collection if he does not already own something himself. He often uses vibrators or dildos when he masturbates and brings them (always shamefully) with him when he travels, just in case. Port, who otherwise meticulously collects other knickknacks, does not actually possess that many toys because Arthur always brings them with him and Port's often too lazy to use toys with other lovers anyways.

11. He also has a profound competence kink. He expects the worst from everyone while keeping his own standards high, so when someone excels at something that blows his expectations out of the fucking water? He's all over that. Notable historical examples include when Francis is especially impassioned about a particular political cause and rinses someone in a debate, when a nation absolutely wipes the floor with another nation's army in a war (this was almost the exclusive reason he had sex with Gilbert in the 18th century), when Port teaches him new languages (their "lessons" are always longer than expected).

Other Unsuitable Behaviour For a Gentleman That Don't Classify as Kinks (Speed Round)

12. He has a very high libido but won't admit it

13. He loves it when Port wears lingerie

14. He wears tight, high waisted pants when he goes out at night bc he knows it makes his legs look good (but won't admit it)

15. When he's relaxed he's quite good at making conversation -- people often find him witty and pleasantly flirtatious

16. He loves riling Port up so he can get pounded the way he wants it

17. He likes large hands

18. Hairpulling is also a kink

19. I realized i titled this section not kinks but here we are

20. he used to have sleeve tats and tattoos all over his back and my god Francis and Gabriel worshipped him. He's too lazy (and stingy) to get so many nowadays though, especially cuz they fade so fast.

21. in threesomes he likes DP and spitroasting, especially if he's the one taking it

22. that was the filthiest sentence I've ever written so I'm gonna end this by saying he likes cuddles after sex but -- guess what? -- he won't admit it.

#hws england #ns/fw #soooooo not PG guys i warned you #needcake is making my blog a degenerate place #just kidding I've always been a degenerate and this was always going to happen #also unlike cake i have once again abandoned concision and produced a dissertation #sorry about that #my hcs

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rfadaydreaming · 4 years ago

Text

𝗯𝗼𝘆𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘀; 𝘆𝗼𝗼𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴 𝗸𝗶𝗺

a/n: if you have any of your own yoosung hcs send them in please !! id luv to see them, help me cope with my yoosung brain rot </3

• you already know from the RFA’s banter that yoosung was pretty popular back in highschool, yet it’s no secret that he’s never had a s/o before. you’re his first… well, everything. he’s a bit embarrassed sharing that in the beginning, but you assure him that it’s nothing to be shy about, it’s actually quite sweet.

• your first kiss wasn’t storybook, but yet it was perfect in its own right. the two of you were out late, gazing up at the stars. he got caught up in how they reflected in your eyes. you took notice. he shyly broke the silence after a few moments, “can... i kiss you?”

• it was messy, smiley, sweet and soft all in the same breath. his inexperience just added to the charm. it felt like him.

• texts and calls you often, not the type who’s shy about texting back the second he gets your message. he likes to send you little updates about his day, sweet messages, ask about how things are with you, things that remind him of you, something you might find cute, or even just some selfies here and there. here’s some examples of the types of messages i feel he would send his s/o throughout the day > ⭐️ ✨ 🌟 💫 ✨

• it’s no surprise seeing how affectionate he is. always holding your hand, kissing your cheek, brushing back your hair, or wrapping his arm around your waist. he adores closeness, being around you. not shy at all when it comes to pda, especially if there’s other guys around. really lays it on then.

• on the topic of other guys, yoosung has a tendency to get a little possessive. struggles with his insecurities and all that. sometimes when you play too much into zen’s antics, laugh too hard at seven’s jokes, he starts to doubt himself a bit. you’ll have to reassure him that no one will ever compare.

• brings you little gifts often whenever he thinks of you. your favorite takeout, a beautiful bouquet of flowers, cute little knickknacks that he just knows you’ll love. if you ever start to feel guilty about anything, he shuts it down as soon as soon as possible.

“yoosung… wasn’t this expensive?”

“don't worry about it, you’re worth it!” 🥺

• one of his favorite things in the universe is when he’s playing video games and you come to cuddle with him in his lap. he’s all smiles as soon as he sees you, switching between having his hand on the mouse and running his fingers through your hair, he’ll pull you into his chest and press a big kiss against your forehead. swears to you that he plays much better whenever you’re around, but inwardly you think that’s just an excuse for you to cuddle in his lap more often.

• he streams often, so you come in to bring him snacks and water, or else he has a tendency to forget.

“oh, mc is here everyone, say hi!! that’s my s/o you guys!” his audience can see right away the way he lights up whenever you walk into the room, his whole demeanor changes. definitely has youtube compilations of him getting starry eyed over you. i think it would be super similar to how mark and amy act on stream [x]

• struggles to get his work done, a big procrastinator. you definitely have to help him out here. no games until after your studies are done. if he pulls the puppy dog eyes, which he often does, you have to find ways to tempt him with a reward instead. all the kisses he wants as soon as his work is done. you don’t think you ever see him move as fast as he does then.

• steal his clothes. it’s impossible not to do it. he’ll be like “is that my hoodie?” whenever he stops by your place, “maybe…”

• he’ll start leaving his hoodies at your place purposely after awhile. he finds he really likes the way you look in them, it never fails to make his heart race.

• if you’re ever out of it, drunk, high, or just straight up don’t wanna do it, he’ll do your entire night routine for you. and he will do it to the max. takes your makeup off with expert precision until he’s sure all of its off, brings a little bowl of warm water to wash your face for you, brushes your teeth and squishes your face around playfully while he does it. puts moisturizer on your face, lotion on your body, whatever you usually do at night. not once does he complain, or seem unhappy about it. he adores taking care of you in little ways like this.

• his body temp is warm, super warm. takes his jacket off and puts it around your shoulder whenever he sees that you’re cold. it’s always cozy and soft inside when he wraps it around you.

• you help him touch up his roots, making sure there’s no spots missed. if you dye your hair too then he’s more than happy to help, gets super focused while doing it, tongue poking out and everything.

• you two fall asleep on calls together a lot. he puts his phone on top of a pillow so it feel like he’s cuddling you, sometimes when it goes silent, he’ll laugh a bit to himself.

“what is it?”

“nothing. i just really love you.”

• dates with yoosung are always fun no matter what, he has a set date night every week, so you guys go on and off between who gets to arrange them. some staples he goes for are ice skating, ramen shops, picnics, boba dates, game nights, theaters, arcades. but sometimes all he really wants is to just wants to be close to you. laying together in his dorm, a movie playing on the laptop at the end of the bed, the two of you are entangled in each other’s arms. that's his favorite type of quality time.

• absolutely loves cooking for you, especially breakfasts after you stay over at his place for the night. he’ll add a little ketchup heart to the eggs, spend extra time cutting shapes into your fruit, brings it to you on a fancy tray while you’re still cuddled up and cozy in bed. wakes you softly with a kiss and a smile before showing you his mini works of art.

• adores praise. give it all to him. praise him for getting his work done on time. praise him for eating dinner at a normal time. praise him for finding the willpower to make his bed in the mornings for once. praise him. no matter what, he’ll get all blushy and starry eyed.

• he likes to write you little notes or reminders and leave them around your place whenever he stays over. i love yous, date reminders, random little doodles and such.

• matching couples outfits!!! likes to pair his outfits with whatever you’re wearing that day, his favorite thing ever is when people notice the both of you are matching and comment on it. practically beams the second they do.

• matching jewelry too. totally has the lego heart necklace with you. if you ever get him anything, you best believe he’ll wear it all the time. sentimental at his core.

• he has rough days more often than not. mental fog, overwhelmed with school, or just things not going his way. after days like that, his favorite place to relax is safe and sound in your lap. your fingers running through his hair, maybe a movie playing in the background but neither of you are paying attention to it. if he cries or vents for a little too long, you never make him feel guilty or embarrassed about it. you assure him with kindest of words, wipe away his tears and give him soft kisses all over his face, let him fall asleep on top of your chest, humming soft melodies to him as he drifts of to sleep. it’s the little things like this that mean the world to him.

thank you for reading! posts similar to this one:

↳ ੈ‧₊˚ boyfriend jumin han hcs

↳ ੈ‧₊˚ boyfriend jihyun kim hcs

#mystic messenger #mysme #mm #yoosung kim #yoosung mystic messenger #yoosung kim mysme #yoosung mysme #yoosung kim x reader #so these are posted late. Hey ... hey #last night i stayed up making earrings 😗✌🏻#but i have yoosung brain rot rn. dont text. only yoosung can <3

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a-supernatural-writer · 4 years ago

Text

Lost in the Shadows Pt.2

Previous Part Next Part

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1336

OC x Poly Lost Boys

Fingers traced the spines of books that were on their shelves. Chocolate brown eyes skimmed over each and every title that the fingers touched. Timothy smiled as his eyes landed on a book called ‘Astronomy and Astrophysics’.

“You boys need any help?” The owner of the small bookstore asked Timothy and Luis as they looked through the selection of books.

Luis tilts his head toward the owner and gives her a polite smile, “Just browsing.”

The owner mirrored Luis’s smile and gave a nod, walking away from the couple. The bookstore itself was filled to the brim with books. The book cases were arranged in a way that the space in between them was the same width as a human. So if two people wanted to look at the same set of books, they would be almost squished together.

The random antique lamps give off a yellow glow, shrouding the corners of the store in shadows. Random knickknacks hang from the ceiling and were scattered along the shelves.

Timothy took the book off of the shelf, clutching it to his chest, “See anything you want?”

Luis shrugged, walking deeper into the maze of bookshelves, “Not really.”

Timothy hummed, grabbing onto Luis’s hand, “I know that all of this-” Timothy gestures with the hand that was holding the book, “Isn’t really you.”

He knew that Luis wasn’t really a big fan of these types of books. Luis had a few selection of romance books that he loved, but besides that, not many other readings satisfied him.

But Timothy loved it. The smell of the pages and ink, the feeling of having a heavy book in his hands made his heart soar. More specifically, sci-fi or informational texts about astronomy.

“It might not be my cup of tea, but it’s yours. Besides, maybe I can find a good romance book?” Luis said, squeezing Timothy’s hand.

They chuckled. “I have a better idea. Since the bookstore has no sense of organizing, which is making me bat-shit crazy, when I’m done, we can hit the comic book store?” Timothy suggested.

Luis’s eyes lit up at the word ‘comic’, “And this is the reason why I love you.”

Timothy winced, “Is that the only reason?”

Luis gave him a look and gently placed a kiss on Timothy’s lips, “Just one of many, love.”

The couple made their way around the bookstore and Timothy only picked out one more book of his liking.

Since the store had areas shrouded in darkness, it wasn’t too far of a stretch to say that the two of them took advantage of the shadows and the lack of customers. Their lips attracted to each other like magnets and their hands dancing along one another skin. Though they did have to stop their actions more than once because of the owner poking her head almost around every corner as she was placing books back on their shelves.

With a kind smile and a wave goodbye, Luis and Timothy left the store. Timothy clutched his bag that was filled with his two new books while he continued to hold his hands with his partner.

While walking along, the two could feel people’s lingering stares at them. They ignored it of course, they stopped caring what people thought.

“Woah.” Luis blinked in surprise as they found the comic book shop they were looking for.

“This is way bigger than what we had back home.” Luis comments, glancing at the two adults that were passed out with sunglasses on behind the counter.

Timothy let go of Luis’s hand to let him explore, “Which home?”

Luis snorted at the joke and started rifling through the stacks of comics, looking for nothing in particular.

“Never seen you guys around here before.”

Luis jumped at the sudden voice behind him. He turned to come face to face with a kid, probably somewhere in his early teens with a red bandana tied around his forehead, part of it hidden underneath his brown hair.

Timothy looked up from his section, “We just moved here.” He answered the kid.

“Where from?”

Timothy looked over his shoulder to see another kid with dark brown short hair, more than likely the same age as the other kid. Both kids were wearing clothing that consisted of camouflage print. Which was an interesting choice of fashion.

Luis picked out a few comics that caught his eye, answering the kid, “New Orleans. We got here this morning.”

He cradled the comic books in his arms, “The name’s Luis. That’s my partner, Timothy. What about you guys?”

Much to Timothy and Luis’s surprise, the kids didn’t acknowledge the fact they were both partners and just skipped any comment to introduce themselves.

“I’m Edgar and that’s Alan. We’re the Frog Brothers.” Edgar introduced himself and his brother.

“Since you’re new, you guys are going to need this.” Alan picks out a comic from the stands and places it on top of Luis’s pile.

Timothy walked over, looking over Luis’s shoulder to see what Alan gave to him. He raised a brow at the comic, “Vampires?”

The comic held the title, ‘Destroy All Vampires!’ with an illustration of Dracula on the front.

Luis and Timothy turn their heads toward another.

“You don’t think?” Luis's voice rang in Timothy’s head. His question floating about.

“Haven’t seen any yet.” Timothy answered.

The two broke their stare and Luis cleared his throat, “Vampires aren’t real.” He held out the comic for either one of the brothers to take, but they didn’t.

“You’ll be eating your own words once your face ends up as one of those missing posters.” Alan gestures over to the multiple posted missing posters on the walls of the outside of their shop and others.

“Look, this could save your life.” Edgar pushed the comic book back to Luis, wanting him to take it.

Luis smiled a little, taking it back into his pile to appease them, “If you say so. Um, besides that, I’m gonna get these.” He gestures to the small stack in his hands.

Seemingly pleased that Luis was going to take the comic, the Frog brothers rang out the rest of his comic books, “This one is free of charge. Our number is on the back, pray you don’t have to call us.” Edgar says ominously.

Timothy nodded, “Thanks, we’ll keep that in mind.” He could tell that this was a rehearsed speech. Warning newcomers of the possibility of vampires being around Santa Carla.

He wasn’t going to deny that the multitude of missing posters wasn’t alarming. Whatever was around Santa Carla wasn’t good about spacing out their attacks.

Luis waved at the boys after placing his new pile of comics into the same bag that had Timothy’s books.

The two wrapped an arm around their waists, their sides pressed tightly together as they left the area of the comic book store.

“You think the Frog brothers are right? Vampires?” Luis asked, peering up at his partner.

Timothy shrugged, “Seems like armature hunters to me. Plus they’re young teenagers, probably would get themselves killed even if they tried.”

He paused, mauling everything over, “Maybe we should’ve just stayed in New Orleans.”

Luis kissed his teeth, reaching up to cup Timothy’s cheek for a brief moment before patting it twice lightly, “We saw everything that New Orleans had to offer. Plus, our rock and roll couldn’t even touch jazz.”

Timothy hummed happily at the memories that were made in New Orleans, “The late nights, the smooth jazz, the food, and all those nights when I swept you off your feet.”

Luis chuckled, “And we can still have the majority of those things, just in Santa Carla.”

“And if there are vampires?” Timothy asked.

A silence hung in the air between them.

Luis squeezed his partner’s side, speaking words he’s said many times before, “Then we deal with it. All of us... Like always.”

Previous Part Next Part

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys oc #the lost boys x oc #the lost boys x reader #gay vampires #vampire #male ocs #male oc x male oc #santa carla #lost in the shadows #poly lost boys x oc #poly lost boys x reader #poly lost boys

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dc41896 · 4 years ago

Text

Family Affair

Pairing: Ransom DrysdalexBlack Reader

⚠️: Harsh words from a very despicable family, fluff

“No, absolutely not.”

“Ransom come on-,”

“I said no and that’s my final answer,” he states attempting to return his attention to the newspaper in his hands until you pull it from his grasp. Standing in front of him with arms crossed, he sighs knowing you were far from letting the topic go.

“Ransom I’m not saying you have to give away the Beemer. I’m just saying we might want to look into getting a more family friendly car that a child can actually fit in comfortably.”

“What about your car? It’s fine.”

“You’re right it is. But poopie isn’t always going to be with me, which is why your car should also be safe for them.”

“You know, we’ve been going back and forth about this yet we haven’t even asked the person who’s gonna be riding in the car,” he replies scooting forward, gently grabbing your sides coming closer to your recently visible bump. “What do you say? You think daddy should retire the Beemer?”

Ear pressed against your stomach, you fail trying to hide your giggle as he pretends to listen to your unborn child.

“They said that they see nothing wrong with daddy’s car. Oh and they would rather you not call them poopie.”

“Fine Ransom, do whatever you want about the car,” you sigh giving back his crumpled paper before moving to step over his leg. You feel his grip tighten as you’re brought down to sit on his lap and his lips peck your neck.

“Alright alright, if it’ll make you like me again I’ll look into another car. I’m telling you now though, I’d walk everywhere before I buy a minivan.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” you laugh. “There is something else I want to talk to you about though.”

“Hmm?”

“...I think it’s time to tell your parents.”

His body tenses under you and jaw clenches as he now focuses on your stomach with thumb gliding back and forth over your belly button. Every time you brought up anything dealing with his family that tended to be his reaction, silence paired with an unspoken disdain as if you mentioned his worse enemy.

“Y/N you know how I feel about that.”

“I know but it’s their first grandchild-,”

“It could be their 10th grandchild and I still wouldn’t want them near us.”

“I just don’t want them feel like they missed out on anything and then get even more pissed.” Hands caressing his face, you kiss his lips before meeting his intense blue eyes.

“See how you’re thinking about their feelings? Actually being a decent human being who’s caring and beautiful inside and out? They’re nothing like that and exactly why I don’t want you, or our child, in the same room as them.”

“I get you’re looking out for us, but I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.”

“I’m not saying you can’t but Y/N, I’m telling you my family is not the kind where you can warm their cold hearts like some kids movie. I just hope you fully get that.”

“I’m not expecting them to join hands and break out in song like they’re straight out the sound of music. I just want them to know Ransom,” you answer.

He still didn’t want to do it, but he could see your point. The least you both could do was let them know so they couldn’t turn things back on you saying you hid their grandchild from them. Releasing a long breath through his nostrils, he lowers your hands kissing the inside of your wrists.

“Okay, we’ll tell them. But that’s all they need to know.”

“Okay, and you try not to worry,” you smile resting your forehead against his. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”

“For both of your sakes, I hope you’re right,” he responds rubbing your belly.

———

The entire car ride to his grandfather’s estate, Ransom was quiet staring straight ahead at the road. He was irritable the whole morning as he trudged back and forth throughout the house getting himself ready. This followed in the car where he simply turned on the radio not uttering a word and leaving you watching the autumn trees pass outside. You know it was all due to his nerves for what was to come and wished there was something you could say to instantly reassure him. Instead though, you simply took his free hand in yours kissing his knuckles.

It was a small gesture, but you wanted to show him you were there.

“Thank you,” he speaks just above a whisper gently squeezing your hand back before placing it on your thigh. Soon after, an older yet well kept looking house became closer in sight causing you to awe in its vintage beauty.

Really calling it a house wouldn’t do it justice. It was like a mini mansion with all the windows that lined the second level and reminded you of a small section of the hogwarts dormitories from the pointed rooftops.

“It’s not as great as it looks,” he says parking the car. “It creaks so loud you can probably hear it outside, gets drafty at night, and some of the furniture has that stale smell you can’t seem to get rid of no matter what you do to it.”

Guiding his chin to look at you, you lean closer capturing his lips with yours as his hand finds the back of your neck holding you close until both of you need to breathe.

“Try to relax, okay?” He nods with a soft smile letting you go so you both can make your way towards the front door.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. It was only supposed to be my parents and grandpa, not the whole family!” It wasn’t until now being halfway to the front steps that you both noticed the extra cars near the front of the house.

“You’d think they’d respect this one wish-,”

“Hey it’s okay. Yea we have more of an audience now, but we’ll be fine. Maybe somehow this’ll work out better for us?”

“Darling you really are too naive at times,” he sarcastically smiles.

“And you can be the biggest grouch I’ve ever met, but I still love you,” you reply mimicking his expression before kissing his cheek as he chuckles.

His arm barely extended enough to reach the knob before the door swung open revealing a middle aged man with white hair and a style similar to Ransom’s from the sweater under his open fleece jacket and jeans over deck shoes.

“Good thing you still look the same after a year or else we wouldn’t know you at all,” he states with arms crossed in front of him.

“Hello father, lovely to see you too.”

“Still as sarcastic as ever too. And who do we have here?”

“Oh I’m Y/N, nice to meet you Mr. Drysdale,” you sweetly smile holding out your hand which he shakes with an amused look painted on his face.

“So this is the special guest we’ve been waiting on,” he grins. “And please call me Richard.”

“Speaking of I thought we agreed it was only gonna be us. Why is the whole family here?”

“Walt came by to talk business with your grandfather so of course Donna and Jacob followed behind. Joni came when she found out everyone else was here because she didn’t want to be ‘left out’,” a lady not far behind Walt in age explains, heels clicking against the hardwood as she approaches the door in her mauve colored suit looking every bit as rich as you’d imagine someone to look. “Richard are you gonna let them in or keep them outside the entire time?”

“Oh sorry, come in,” he motions stepping aside letting the both of you enter.

Although a bit cluttered with the eccentric knickknacks collected by the family over time, it was still just as beautiful inside as it was out, if not more.

“So I’m guessing you’re here to tell me you’re playing house with my son?,” she asks taking a drink from her glass.

“Um well technically yes, but-,”

“Jesus let them sit down first Linda,” Richard shakes his head leading you to the couch as Ransom follows close behind. Of course being the stranger in the house all eyes were on you as you sat down. “So Y/N, what’s your poison?”

“I’ll actually just take water, thank you.”

“Joni, Walt, Donna, Jacob, this is Ransom’s guest Y/N, Y/N these are Ransom’s aunts, his uncle, and youngest cousin,” Linda points respectively before sitting in front of you with legs crossed.

“So what do we owe the pleasure of this little visit Ransom? Need more money from Harlan to do God knows what on some private island?,” Joni chuckles sipping from her wine glass.

“Actually my business here is with my parents which has nothing to do with neither of you leeches,” Ransom quips placing an arm around your shoulder.

“Oh very classy. Y/N I may not know you, but I’d really advise you to get out from under this one as soon as you can,” Walt replies sitting on the arm of his wife’s chair.

“No ‘may not’, you don’t know her, so what makes you think you’re in the position to give her advice of any kind?”

“Okay boys enough,” Linda interjects with a raised hand. “Ransom what’s going on?”

In perfect timing, Richard walks in setting your water down in front of you before sitting in the empty chair next to a waiting Linda who seemed like the type not liking to do so.

“Go ahead,” Ransom whispers in your ear giving a reassuring nod as you sit up a bit straighter with hands clasped in your lap.

“Well, Linda and Richard, we wanted to meet with you to let you know that you’re gonna be grandparents.”

Just staring at you unimpressed with your announcement, you feel your stomach sink disappointed in their lack of enthusiasm or any reaction really.

“Here we go again,” she lowly grins swallowing the last of her brown liquor. “Listen honey you seem like a nice girl, but do you know how many of that boy’s ex’s or random hookups have come here saying the same thing expecting a check from us?”

“Unlike all of those other girls, which it was only four, she’s serious,” Ransom adds.

“Four too many if you ask me,” Joni mumbles.

“Well no one did so why are you still here?!”

“Mrs. Drysdale-,”

“It’s Linda or Mrs. Thrombey-Drysdale dear,” she corrects refilling her glass.

“Linda I’m not here looking for some handout. I just wanted the both of you to know that Ransom and I are expecting so you’d be in their life.”

“How do you know it’s his?,” Richard asks causing both you and Ransom to turn your heads looking as if he’d cursed you using every word under the sun.

“Excuse me?”

“Like Linda said, you seem like a nice girl but we have to make sure we’re not just falling for the innocent farm girl routine here.”

“Plus with you kids now and your wild live free ways, it’s a valid question I’d say,” Donna states making your blood boil to levels you’d never experienced before.

“Yes Ransom is the father. Would you like me to tell you where and when we had sex too so you can add it up yourselves?”

“Hey no need to get an attitude with us,” Walt says trying to calm an apparently offended Donna. “As you know this is a prominent family with assets we’re just trying to protect. Plus think of our patriarch. Bringing all this drama to him in his old age and with his ailments might send the poor man to the hospital.”

“Look I understand, trust me I do. But Ransom is literally right here with me which should be proof enough everything I’m saying is true.”

“And it would be if we knew Ransom wasn’t money hungry and trying to make sure his inheritance was still intact,” Linda says peering over her cup.

“I started my own writing company with the money I had left getting NOTHING MORE from grandpa. I literally said screw my inheritance before I stormed out last year and never came back!,” Ransom yells becoming more frustrated as well.

“People’s minds can change,” Jacob quietly speaks making you scoff before standing up to walk out the room.

“Oh, and before I go,” you start, lifting your sweater just enough so everyone could see your bump. “It’s a real bump. No fake belly or anything if that was the next question.” You didn’t give anyone a chance to say anything more, not even Ransom to stop you from leaving, before you rushed out the room through the kitchen to wherever your feet would guide you.

“Couldn’t leave it alone could you?,” Ransom sighs.

“Well maybe we wouldn’t have to do all that if you would’ve kept it in your pants in the past!,” Linda shouts as Ransom just shakes his head.

“All that booze is really getting to your head,” he chuckles to himself standing to his feet. “Those other girls all came by themselves, wrote letters, or emails claiming those things. Not one did I sit there with them letting them spew lies because I KNEW THEY WERE LYING!”

“Well if this one’s so different, why has it taken a year for us to meet her?!”

“BECAUSE OF THIS!! This dysfunction I’ve had to deal with that I didn’t want to subject my wife or unborn child to!”

“Wife?,” everyone asks at the same time looking as if he’d just grown a second head.

“Yes, my wife. We got married six months ago.”

“Jesus, Ransom,” Richard groans running a hand over his face. “There was a prenup involved right?”

“She offered to sign one, but I said no. Because unlike your marriage, we can trust each other.” Pushing past his father, he follows your steps through the kitchen and eventually out to the enclosed veranda hearing your sniffles.

“I know. You’re here to tell me I told you so and how being a grouch isn’t a bad thing because it avoids your feelings getting hurt,” you softly speak looking down to your belly as your hands cradle the small protrusion.

“No,” he answers sitting beside you kissing your temple. “I just came to check on you.”

“I’ve calmed down, but I just want to go home and go to bed. Oh and you were right about this place being creaky.”

“I’ve told them these floors need to be replaced,” a deep voice announces startling the both of you. The elderly man slowly makes his way to the chair across from you sighing in content as he sits down. “So I hear a new member of the family will be joining us soon.”

“Yea, around May or June. Grandpa this Y/N, my wife. Y/N this is grandpa Harlan,” Ransom introduces as the two of you shake hands.

“Nice to meet you. I apologize for my children’s behavior, they can be-,”

“Rude and outright inconsiderate,” you interrupt quickly slapping your hand over your mouth realizing you just said that out loud. “I’m sorry, it slipped out.”

“It’s quite alright, and in fact true,” he chuckles. “Don’t worry about them though, if you both need anything at all just let me know.”

“That’s nice of you gramps, but this baby is our responsibility. We don’t need any assistance.”

“That’s very commendable of you two, but I don’t want that child going without anything he or she needs to save your ego. Just know I’ll personally be here to help any way I can.”

You could see why Ransom always wanted to be by his grandfathers side. He might’ve had his stern moments from the stories you heard, but overall he was caring and actually gave people chances rather than immediately dismissing them. It made you wonder what happened to the rest of the family for them to turn out so different.

“Thank you Harlan. We really appreciate everything, but especially you just being there for us,” you smile walking over to hug his shoulders making the old man chuckle being caught off guard by your affection.

“You’re very welcome. And you little one,” he directs toward your stomach, “yes you’re coming into a, well...complicated family, but you have the power to determine what reaction your name brings. Whenever you need to be reminded of that, your parents and I will be here.”

Taglist: @fumbling-fanfics @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @maxcullen @literaturefeen @damnitaa @curlyhairclub @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @scoop93535 @secretmysteriousperson

If anybody wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged but don’t see your name, only want to be tagged for certain people I write for, or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know🤓!

#chris evans #chrisxblackreader #chrisxwoc #chrisxreader #ransomxwoc #ransomxblackreader #ransomxreader #ransom drysdale #knives out

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apathetic-altruistic · 3 years ago

Note

💌💖🐕🎁💬🤗 for Shinsou and Kaminari

💌…write the other love letters and/or cute little messages?

Kaminari! He’ll just think of something he wants to say to us, and if we’re not there he’ll write it down on a post it note and place it where we can find it.

💖…say “I love you” randomly?

Kaminari! He’s the most verbally affectionate so we’ll just be hanging out and he says it, I usually still get a bit flustered when he does it Denki says its cute so I don’t mind :)

🐕…pet a random dog on the street?

All of us Lmao, one of us see a dog and we’ll all run up and ask to pet them, If we’re not there Hitoshi will take a picture and send it us so we can see it

🎁…buy expensive gifts for the other?

Hitoshi tends to buy More expensive gifts though we really only buy big things on special occasions. We far more commonly will by going around and buy little knickknacks that we see that we think the others would like or that just reminds us of the other in general!

💬…ramble about their interests for hours and get overly excited while doing so?

That would be me, bring up something I’m interested in and I never shut up, Hitoshi and Denki will sometimes bring up my hyper-fixations just to hear me talk about them!

🤗…initiate cuddles?

Surprisingly Shinso though Kaminari is close behind, At first when we first started dating Kaminari was the most likely to ask for cuddles, but as time went on Me and Hitoshi got more comfortable initiating affection in general, Hitoshi tends to in particular likes to hold me and Denki when we get up to make food and will just follow us while hugging!

#kaminari denki #denki kaminari #kaminari #Shinso #shinso hitoshi #hitoshi shinso #self ship asks #my f/o #my f/os #my f/o's #romantic f/os #romantic f/o's #romantic f/o

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astouract · 4 years ago

Text

The Smell of Soil — Chapter 2 (Y/N)

Synopsis: (Y/N) almost burns her house down, and of course Loki shows up to help

Words: 1901

Warnings: None yet 😈

—

You practically slammed the door behind you, leaving the god-turned-gardener on your front step. Something wasn't right. You weren’t supposed to be stationed at the house right next to his, why would they put you there?

Watch him from afar, they had told you, don't get too close. He's still dangerous. Unpredictable.

Your heart felt as if it would beat right out of your chest, you noticed, as you placed a hand on your chest and let the door support you. After taking a moment, you pushed yourself off of the door and wandered into the cottage. It definitely wasn't anything like the Asgardian architecture you were used to, floral patterns and natural wood instead of stark white marble and expensive accents. There was no television, which was almost a relief as you had absolutely no idea how to use one. There was, however, a little pink radio on a shabby looking green end table.

A floral sofa was the centerpiece of the room, placed in front of a small fireplace. Small tables held little knickknacks and tiny vases that could only hold one or two flowers. And, actually, it seemed like plants were taking over the house. They were everywhere, you realized with a groan. You’d have to water them every day, and they’d still end up dead.

You moved on and into the kitchen, where there was not nearly as much counter space as you were used to. The room was a cacophony of different patterns and colors, but somehow it all came together to form one cohesive style. A little round table sat in the corner, with two mismatched chairs and, of course, a potted plant. Everything looked like someone else had used it for twenty years and then dumped it on the side of the road somewhere. Even the gas stove could've used a cleaning. Cooking--yet another thing you would have to learn how to do. Fresh herbs hung from the wall above the large window, making the room smell faintly of rosemary and basil.

To the left of the kitchen was a small flight of stairs that led to the second floor, which you soon discovered was more of an attic with a bed and some windows. You let your hand trail along the puffy duvet, feeling its softness under your fingers. It wasn't an Asgard duvet, that's for sure, but you had a sneaking suspicion that you may like it more. It was plush and inviting, and you resisted the urge to sink into the mattress.

A little dresser held flowing skirts and dresses, and a few pairs of jeans. You looked down at your current outfit, your last work of magic before hopping through the portal, and the first assignment of your mission: a loose T-shirt, paired with blue jeans that had to be the tightest pants you had ever worn. Not your usual clothing choices, but you were to play the part and do it well. So, flowing dresses and flower crowns it was.

Your feet carried you to the window, where you brushed the curtains aside. You had a clear view down the street, and your eyes landed on Loki's house, where he was on his hands and knees in his garden.

It was so odd, seeing him like this. Loki, God of Mischief, Prince of Asgard, was on his hands and knees digging through dirt to care for fruits and vegetables. Loki, who a week ago would have killed anyone who even looked at him wrong, came over just to help you with a yard sign. His hair had been thrown haphazardly into a top knot, and he'd had dirt smeared on his cheeks. He wasn't in Asgardian robes, trading his armor out for cotton button-ups and flannel pants. What had become of the prince you’d known your whole life?

Shaking your head, you stepped away from the window and retreated back to the first floor. The rest of the downstairs consisted of a small bathroom and an equally small study, where picture frames hung on the wall presented pressed flowers of all kinds and random journal entries. A wooden desk sat against a big window, and a small bookshelf was tucked into the corner.

You made your way back into the kitchen and through the back door, where nature had reclaimed the property. It was immensely overgrown, with so many clusters of weeds and flowers that your eyes couldn't find a place to settle. There was a rotting shed, and a greenhouse hidden behind greenery. Various gardening tools were scattered around the area, and you couldn't even imagine what else might be hiding in the bushes.

"It's. . . Charming." Loki's words echoed in your mind, and you rolled your eyes.

You liked a good project.

"Shit shit shit shit!"

You clamped your hands down over your ears, rushing into the kitchen and throwing the oven door open. You reached through the billowing smoke and grabbed the pan, crying out and dropping it immediately as burning pain overwhelmed your senses.

"Fuck!" You switched the oven off and held your hands helplessly in front of you, coughing.

You didn't know what to do. Your hands were an angry shade of red, an alarm was blaring from somewhere in the kitchen, and the smoke wouldn't stop billowing out of the oven. Somehow, above all of the noise you were able to hear a series of knocks at your front door. You crossed the distance from the kitchen into the living room, and carefully pulled the door open, hissing sharply at the pain rolling over your hands.

Shit.

There, standing on your doorstep for the second time that day, was Loki. Of course it was, because what else could happen when you were supposed to be watching him from afar?

He looked into the house behind you, and back at you with wide eyes. "Is everything okay? I heard the alarms and some loud crashes, and. . . Your house is full of smoke." His gaze asked what he wouldn't say out loud--asked if you needed help. Norns, he was practically begging you to let him help.

Who even was he?

You sighed, and then did the unthinkable: you stepped aside to let him in. He followed you into the kitchen, and you realized just how much of a mess you’d made. The oven door was hanging open, with smoke still billowing out relentlessly, and there were charred cookies all over the floor. The baking pan was upside down in the middle of the room, but Loki didn't seem to notice as he rushed around the room trying to reconcile the smoke issue.

"What happened?" He asked breathlessly, propping the back door open and sliding every window open that he could.

"I made cookies. I think."

Loki reached up above the door frame, and pressed a button on a white box that stopped the screeching alarm. He started opening every drawer in the kitchen, until he found what he was looking for. He offered you a tea towel, but you just stared at it.

"I can't," you murmured, looking down at your hands. Loki's gaze followed.

"Oh my God." He sucked in a breath, "You need to take care of that."

I would, if I could use my magic, your subconscious snapped.

He turned on the sink, and gently guided your hands into the cool water. "I think maybe you should go to Urgent Care."

"Urgent Care?"

Loki didn't seem to hear you, lost in thought as he looked around the room. He pulled over the chairs from the kitchen table, offering one to you at the sink before leaning against the counter while you soaked your palms.

"Did all of this furniture come with the house?"

You nodded. "It was mostly furnished when I got here, I just had to add a few small things. I only brought one suitcase with me."

"I see. Where did you move from?"

Shit. Why was he interrogating you? Did he know something?

You removed a hand from the water to gesture vaguely. "Just some run down old town about a day's trip north of here." The lie came effortlessly, and Loki accepted it with a nod.

"Where's your bathroom? Though I really think you should see a doctor for your hands."

"To the left of the entry, and there’s no need for medical treatment. I’m a fast healer." You grimaced, not daring to move your fingers.

Loki disappeared into the next room, and returned a moment later with gauze bandage. "It's going to hurt, but you have to wash your hands with soap before I can wrap them."

"What?" You asked stupidly.

Loki took the old soap from beside your sink and squirted a bit into your open hands. "Just wash them real quick. The internet said so."

Gods, being mortal sucked.

You did as told, and Loki turned off the tap before grabbing the gauze. "I'm going to wrap them now, okay?"

You offered him a hand, and he began to unwind the bandage with extreme delicacy onto your skin. It was mesmerizing, watching someone who you knew to be an actual war criminal act so selflessly. Gone was the dark, brooding prince, and standing in his place was a mortal, kind and simple. And concentrating.

Loki released one hand and moved onto the next, and suddenly, those green eyes were staring right back at you. Your breath caught, and for one, fleeting moment, you were swept up. The atmosphere felt different, like a static kind of electricity clung to the air.

War criminal. He shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be here, with your hands gently in his.

The things those hands had done, the lives they’ve ended. The cities destroyed, each one’s story carved into the lines on his palm. Those hands were unpredictable. Dangerous.

War criminal.

"That should do it," Loki said softly, "and look, the smoke has cleared!"

You grimaced as he collected the charred cookies from the floor. "You don’t have to do that. ."

Loki only grinned, putting the now dented pan in the sink. "I'm more than happy to help."

You walked together back through the house, and ended up back on the front steps for the third time that day. The sun was setting behind the trees, the sky a breathtaking canvas of oranges, yellows, and pinks. The world outside was quiet, peaceful.

"Seriously," Loki emphasized, turning to face you. "If you need anything. You know where to find me." He offered a sympathetic smile.

And, unfortunately, he knew where to find you.

Loki pointed to your hands. "You should take the bandages off in the morning and see what the burns look like; your hands will likely get worse over the next twenty-four hours or so. Whatever you do, don't apply ice. And, don't apply any ointment until the burns have cooled. Make sure you keep them clean and wrapped."

You cocked your head slightly to the side, regarding him curiously. Suspiciously. “How do you know all of this?"

Loki smiled all the way to his eyes. "Internet."

"Oh. Right.”

Loki rubbed his hands together--something that you wouldn't be doing for a couple days, by the sound of it. "Well, you seem to have had a rather. . . eventful. . . day so I'll leave you to it. Have a good evening, (Y/N)."

"Loki," you called out, stopping him on his way down the steps, "Thank you."

He smiled.

#loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki x reader #cottagecore #original post #avengers #loki #marvel

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taeken-my-heart · 4 years ago

Text

Revenant

Summary: You’d always been told that when you died that you’d walk into the light towards Heaven. Only problem is, you died and the light never showed up. Now you’re attached to a handsome but grumpy and sleep deprived medical student and neither one of you knows what to do to get you to finally cross over.

Rating: PG15

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Fluff, angst, Ghost!au, MedicalStudent!Namjoon

Word Count: 6328

Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse and one seizure in future chapters

~~<3~~ ~~<3~~

You’d been laying on this bench for what was probably three days. At least. It’s a good thing you weren’t alive, otherwise you’d be really hungry and you’d probably smell bad. It was so humid even you could feel it…and you were dead so that was saying something. You watched as a rather rotund middle-aged man with a sweaty upper lip hobbled passed you.

“I feel you, bro!” You called out to him, sitting up to solute him, but of course he didn’t hear you. They never did. How long had you been dead? You weren’t really sure; you weren’t even sure exactly when you’d died or how. Your memories were pretty foggy, honestly. You remembered your first name, some of your interests, and you were pretty sure that you had a few family members that you’d beat to the grave, but that was about it.

Now, here you sat on a park bench in the middle of June watching the living amble by as you wondered where on earth you actually were and why you were still here. You’d heard the stories like everyone else, death was supposed to bring a “light” that you were meant to walk through…only you don’t remember ever seeing a light and now you were just trapped, wandering around hoping to run into someone that could not only see you, but tell you what was going on.

Maybe you had unfinished business? The problem with that is that you weren’t really sure what that unfinished business would be or how to go about finding out.

Sighing, you stood, stretching, and began wandering down the street. You couldn’t really find out what that business would be if you just kept sitting on that bench. You were on a side of town that you were pretty sure you’d never been on before, it didn’t feel familiar, at least. The streets were clean and lined with cute cafes, book stores, and other little shops brimming with clothing and small knickknacks.

You meandered aimlessly through the streets, walking through some shops that happened to have open doors. An unfortunate part of this whole afterlife thing was the inability to grab onto things. It was really inconvenient to not be able to open a door.

A building with a rotating door greeted you and you paused, watching as a woman in a pantsuit walked towards the doors and you grinned, walking as close behind her as possible, perhaps if you got enough momentum going you could take the door for a spin.

But that dream quickly died, along with your once beating heart, as you were left in the door beside a bustling lobby as the rotating door stopped moving and wouldn’t budge, even when you shoved against it.

Huffing in irritation, you glanced around the lobby in curiosity. The building wasn’t anything special, in fact it was a little worn down, but not without its charms. You figured you’d have to wait here until someone came back to the door to let you out so you began to wander around the lobby.

The carpet was faded and chaffing in spots against the wall, but that sort of added to the appeal. It looked like the type of place that you would have lived in back when you were alive. You watched the woman as she tapped her foot impatiently by the elevator and went to stand next to her.

She was pretty, mid-thirties with a tight bun and a sharp expression. She seemed like she was in a bad mood, but it didn’t lessen her appearance. As the elevator door slid open, you stepped in with her and watched as she pressed the button for floor 10. You had nothing better to do anyway; being trapped on floor 10 of this random apartment building for a little while wouldn’t be the worst scenario. Maybe this woman would do something interesting to keep you entertained for a while.

You zoned out on the numbers as they ticked by and when the elevator stopped, you almost didn’t notice before the doors started shutting again. You jumped, springing through the doors just before they closed on you and sighed in relief, glancing back at them before turning forward just in time to watch pantsuit woman enter an apartment and slam the door.

“Dang it!” You mumbled. Now you were stuck on floor 10 with nothing to do and no one to entertain you. You moped, moving slowly along the hallway, trailing your fingers against the wall and doors. You wondered when the next person would be needing the elevator. You hoped soon because you were already bored.

Rounding a corner, your fingers slid absentmindedly across a door before hearing it creak slightly and you turned to look up, watching the door slid open. “Oh?” You murmured in surprise, stepping across the thresh hold and glancing around the room.

It was clean, but fairly sparse. The type of place a man would live in. You turned towards the door, pushing against it and watching in surprise as it swung shut. You looked down at your hands in confusion. “What the?” You walked towards the door, reaching forward and watching as your hand swept through the door knob. You screamed, jumping back in alarm and clutching your hand to your chest. “Well, that’s not normal.” You tittered nervously, moving to grasp the door knob again and watching as your hand passed through 2, 3, 4 more times before pouting. “Maybe I’m in the process of crossing over?”

You turned to survey your surroundings again. At least whoever lived here had a decent view. It’s the only thing that was gonna be able to occupy your mind until you could manage to get back out and figure out why you could suddenly put your hand through a doorknob but not be able to walk through the wall itself.

You’d only been staring out the window for around 10 minutes when you heard the key enter the lock and you turned to watch and see what kind of person lived here. You were surprised to see a young man enter, a little taller than average height, broad shouldered and handsome with dark hair pushed back across his head which was currently bent and surveying something on his phone. He dropped his keys on the kitchen counter, sighing deeply before looking up and shoving his phone in his pocket.

Suddenly he stopped. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was looking straight at you.

“Who are you?”

His voice was deep and pleasant and you glanced around the room in confusion before remembering the two of you were the only one’s there.

“Wait…are you talking to me? You can see me?” You asked, walking carefully across the room until you were standing arm’s length away.

He looked at you in bemusement. “Should I…not…be able to see you?” He asked carefully, eyebrow raised.

“I mean, I don’t know. People stopped seeing me a while ago. I guess I kind of figured I was dead or whatever. Haven’t quite figured out where “the light” is. Then again, I was always bad with directions when I was alive so turns out things aren’t so different in death…apart from the people not seeing me thing, of course.”

He looked confused, his lips puckering and you smiled. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

He looked back at you and at the hand that you extended. “If you’re really a ghost, then I won’t be able to feel you.” He surmised, face smug, as though he thought he was about to oust you from some great big lie.

You shrugged, “I guess we’ll both find out.”

“I’m Namjoon.” He said, extending his hand carefully, as though he wasn’t quite sure what to think and you lurched forward, grasping onto his hand. You could feel it, but it was faint, as though you’d sat on your hand for a little too long and now it was numb. There was some pressure, but it almost wasn’t there.

Namjoon retracted his hand quickly, like he’d been burned and looked at you, wide eyed. “Well that was weird.” You smiled.

“Your hand felt all tingly and awful.”

“That’s rude,” you sniffed, “you don’t see me talking about how your hand was all sweaty or anything.”

Namjoon blushed, rubbing his hands down the front of his pants. “Are they really?”

“Nah, I’m just joshing you. I couldn’t really tell you if they were anyway; couldn’t feel them. Dead, remember?” You laughed, turning to go sit on his couch. “So, you live here alone or something?”

Namjoon removed his messenger bag from around his neck, setting it on the floor by the door and looked around the room awkwardly. “No, actually I’ve got two roommates.”

“What’re their names?” You ask, throwing your feet up on the coffee table casually, but you don’t miss the way Namjoon grimaces at your dirty shoes.

“Uh, Jimin and Jin.” He replies distractedly, tearing his eyes away from your feet and back to your face. “We’re all longtime friends.”

“Cool, cool. Are you still in school?”

“I’m in medical school,” he replies quickly, “I’m sorry, are you intending on staying for a while?”

You sigh dramatically, flinging your hands around in a miniature tantrum. “Well here’s the thing Joon,” You start.

“Namjoon.” He replies testily, cheeks sucked in with his impatience.

“I walked in here because I was bored and not really sure where I was. Once I got inside, I realized I couldn’t get back out again. They lie, you know, the people who write books. They always say that when you’re a ghost you can walk through walls and crap, but I can’t. I have to walk through the door just like everyone else.”

“So, you’re prone to breaking and entering?” He frowned.

“What are you gonna do about it?” You smirked, “sue me?”

“OK, well fine, now that I’m here I can open the door for you. It doesn’t make much sense, though. You were able to get in so why can’t you get back out?”

“I don’t know,” you replied petulantly, following Namjoon to the door. “My hand kept going through the door knob. Now that was a first for me. Kind of freaked me out if I’m being honest.”

He opened the door for you and you stepped back out into the hallway, turning to face him. “Well, I wish you luck finding the light or the dark or whatever it is that you’re looking for.”

Before you could scold him for insinuating that maybe you were trying to find your way to hell, he’d slammed the door in your face and you huffed angrily. Namjoon turned around, letting out a sigh before screaming and jumping back against the door.

“How’d you get back in here? Did you teleport?”

“I don’t know!” You squeaked, “I’ve never done that before!”

“What do you mean you’ve never done that before?” Namjoon shouted, still clutching his rapidly beating heart.

“I mean I’ve never done that before! I don’t even know if I was actually the one to do it.”

He frowned, standing up straight and fixing his shirt. “That’s nonsense. This isn’t a science fiction novel, of course you did it. There’s no other explanation.”

“OK, there’s a ghost in your apartment whose hand feels all tingly when you touch them and can only open doors sometimes and you’re upset about the fact that I might not be in control of my teleporting? That’s what you can’t seem to explain?”

“Well,” he spluttered hotly, “I can’t really explain any of it. But you just being a creepy trespasser with tingly skin seems easier to explain away than teleportation.”

“OK, go ahead, explain to me tingly ghost skin in a way that doesn’t make you sound insane.”

Before he could think of anything to say, the front door was being unlocked and another obnoxiously handsome man was walking through it. He was a few inches shorter than Namjoon, with a slim waist and thick thighs trapped beneath ripped black skinny jeans. His shoulders were practically exploding out of his leather jacket and a pair of sunglasses were resting on the edge of his nose.

He looked at Namjoon, wrinkling his nose and pushing his sunglasses up into his wispy dark hair. “Hey man,” he said, closing the door behind him and sliding his keys into the pocket of his jeans, “who are you talking to?”

Namjoon sighed in exasperation, flailing his arms at you and you watched the other guy turn to look in your direction in confusion. “I’m talking to her, obviously.”

The young man’s brows wrinkled and his face was even more handsome when he was looking at you straight on. Well, you suppose you should use the term “looking at you” loosely, because while his vision was certainly trained where you were standing, he was most definitely looking straight through you.

“Who?” He asked, turning to look at Namjoon whose frown deepened.

“Did she pay you? She put you up to this, right? Haha, very funny, everybody laugh at the overworked medical student.” He scoffed and you couldn’t help but smirk. He turned to glare at you.

“You ok?” The other young man asked, coming to stand a little closer to his friend, “you’re being kind of weird, and that’s saying something for you.”

You laughed loudly and Namjoon huffed, pointing directly at you. “Do you seriously not see her?”

The guy turned back to look for you and you sighed. “Namjoon, stop, I told you, no one has been able to see me but you. I don’t even know why you can see me in the first place.”

The guy turned back to look at Namjoon, shaking his head. “Dude, there’s no one here but us. Maybe you should lie down. You’ve been pretty stressed lately; you just need to rest and drink more water.”

Namjoon allowed his friend to push him towards the couch and then sat down, grumbling angrily to himself as you came to sit on the coffee table directly in front of them. Namjoon glared at you as his friend sat beside him. “You seriously don’t see her?” He flailed angrily. When the guy looked at a loss for words Namjoon groaned, sinking back into the cushions. “Jimin…can you get me a drink of water? Maybe I’m dehydrated or something. You’re probably right, it’s probably a stress induced panic attack or something.”

“I doubt it’s a panic attack.” Jimin said, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, “I’ve also never heard of people imagining people when they’re anxious, but anything is possible, I guess.” He handed the bottle to his friend as he sat down next to him and you watched the exchange curiously.

“And you seriously don’t see her?” Namjoon asked after chugging half the bottle, “sitting directly in front of me, won’t leave. Pretty obnoxious, actually.”

“I told you, I can’t leave!” You replied indignantly but he ignored you, turning to his friend.

Jimin shook his head and shrugged, “I’m sure once you get some rest, you’ll be fine. It’s probably just stress induced. Look, I’m going out to get some drinks tonight, with Jungkook and Tae; you should come. Maybe it’ll help you loosen up a bit.”

Namjoon frowned, “to be honest…I don’t think getting drunk is going to really help the hallucinations, but I’m all for bad decisions right now. Let’s go.”

Jimin chuckled, standing and stretching. “Cool, let’s take my car. You can get wasted and I’ll DD. JK and Tae are probably gonna be obnoxiously drunk anyway, so we can all have a stress sesh.”

You began to follow them to the door and Namjoon stopped, turning to you suddenly just as Jimin opened the front door. “You’re not allowed to come.” He said, “You’re a figment of my imagination and I’m banishing you. Hope to see you never again.”

“Well that’s just rude.” You scoffed, but suddenly the door was slamming behind them and you were staring at the painted white oak with a frown.

If Namjoon thought he could be rid of you that easily, he had another thing coming. As soon as the door was closed, you found yourself standing right beside the two men. Jimin finished locking up and you spluttered in disbelief. Namjoon turned to look at you, shock etched into his features and your eyes widened in surprise because, same bro.

“How is that possible?!" Namjoon complained, stomping his foot childishly and Jimin frowned in confusion.

You yourself were in a state of shock. How was it possible that you could just appear by his side? One minute you were stuck on the other side of a -definitely- locked door and now you were standing right beside the two men again.

"How is what possible?" Jimin sighed and Namjoon turned to look at him, waving his arms in exasperation.

"She just appeared out of nowhere!" He cried. "You said you couldn't open the door!"

"I can't!" You insisted, "I'm as shocked as you are. Besides, I obviously didn’t, you just watched Jimin lock it so you would have noticed if I walked through it!"

"OK, buddy, we definitely need to get you a drink." Jimin murmured, patting his friend on the back and leading him down the hallway.

You followed after, watching Jimin in interest as his back muscles moved in circles through his leather jacket. He was really freaking hot, and if you weren't so confused about what was going on...and if you weren't dead, of course, you probably would have made a move.

As it was, death was a highly inconvenient thing. Especially when you seemed particularly dim witted at the whole "crossing over" thing.

"Stop looking at him that way." Namjoon griped and you turned to look at him so quickly you felt a crick in your neck, hissing in pain.

"Stop looking at who what way?" Jimin asked, glancing at his friend as he clicked the lock to his car.

"She's looking at you like you're a piece of meat. It's gross."

You rolled your eyes and shrugged your shoulders. "He's hot. And don't act all high and mighty like you've never stared at a girl’s body before. I'm just appreciating him. It's not like I can touch or anything."

"You could possess him or something!" Namjoon argued and you sighed loudly.

"I don't even know how-to walk-through walls, there's no way I can walk through someone's body. I thought you were becoming a doctor, aren't you supposed to be smart or something?"

Namjoon spluttered in indignation before Jimin cut him off. "Get in the car, dude. You're arguing with the air and people are looking at us weird."

You watched as Namjoon bit his lip bitterly, sliding into the passenger seat and rolling down the window to glare at you.

"You gonna do me a solid and open the back door for me?" You asked.

"Now why would I do that?" Namjoon scoffed, "I don't want you to come with us. Besides, if you can go through the front door you can certainly open the car door too."

"I told you I didn't walk through the front door!" You argued. Just then the car started and you looked at Namjoon as he smirked at you. "Fine, whatever. You're bad tempered anyway so I don't even want to hang out with you."

"Cool, feelings mutual." He replied smartly before rolling up the window and Jimin backed slowly from the lot.

You huffed angrily, folding your arms and grumbling as you watched the car leave the parking lot and roll around the corner. Well now what?

You went to sit on the curb and the second you'd sat down on the burning hot cement, you found yourself sitting very comfortably in the back of Jimin's nicely air-conditioned car. He was playing some obnoxiously loud rock music and you grimaced.

"Wow, his playlist seriously bites." You commented offhandedly and Namjoon turned to look at you, eyes huge in his head.

"H-how?" He stuttered and you shrugged.

"Your guess is as good as mine. Seriously, I just sat down on the curb and suddenly I was back here with your surly ass."

"What kind of bad juju did I get myself into?" Namjoon bemoaned and you watched with amusement as Jimin sighed in the driver’s seat, glancing over at his friend.

"I'm not a ghoul, I'm not here to haunt you." You sneered.

"This sure feels like a haunting." He grumbled under his breath.

"OK," Jimin said loudly, "so what kind of stress are you experiencing right now? Let's try and find the trigger."

"Aside from tests, there's nothing man, honestly. Today I was actually feeling pretty good, really stress free. Got an A on that biochemistry test so I was feeling great. I don't know if this is stress man, she really seems real."

"I am." You chirped pleasantly.

Jimin sighed and nodded, "OK, then tell me about her. Maybe talking about it will help get whatever is bothering you off your chest."

"I don't really know that much about her, I only found her in the apartment about 5 minutes before you got there."

"Well, is she pretty?" Jimin smirked and Namjoon blushed hotly.

"Yeah, am I pretty?" You teased.

"I find it offensive to comment on someone's appearance," he huffed, "you know that, Chim."

"Throw me a bone here, what does she look like?"

Namjoon rattled off a list of things that did sound a little insulting when he compartmentalized you like that before staring in rapt attention out the window.

"Sounds like your type." Jimin smiled and Namjoon scoffed, glaring at him.

"Not at all! I don't like stalkers in the slightest."

You rolled your eyes. "I told you, I'm not stalking you. I have absolutely no control on whether or not I follow you. For some reason I can't get away from you."

"OK, fine. What's her name?"

"Y/N."

"That's a nice name." Jimin said and you smiled.

"Thanks!"

"She said thank you." Namjoon replied gruffly.

"How old is she?" Jimin asked, putting his car in park and motioning for his friend to follow him into the bar.

Namjoon frowned, eyebrows knitting together. "Actually, I don't know." He said as he pulled the back door open for you to slide out.

"That's because you're selfish and didn't ask." You smiled, trailing after them as Namjoon closed the door behind you.

"Um, excuse you, I just opened your door for you. You could at least say thank you."

"That's true," you admitted, "thank you, Namjoon."

He blushed, rubbing the back of his neck and shrugging. "Don't worry about it. Anyway, how old are you?"

You sighed, lips poking out into a pout as you thought about it. "I think I was 23 when I died. It's hard to remember, some details are foggy."

"She said she thinks she's 23." Namjoon repeated softly as you trailed after them, seating yourself beside them in a circular booth in the back of the bar.

It was the typical dimly lit, slightly seedy looking place, but the seats were comfortable and aside from the bartender and a waitress, there was only one other table of guests around.

"She doesn't remember?" Jimin asked and Namjoon shook his head.

"She said things are kind of foggy. What do you remember?" Namjoon asked, turning to face you.

You sighed, looking down at the table and tracing the curving slopes of wood with your finger. "Honestly, not a lot. I’m pretty sure I'm a middle child, with one older brother and one younger brother. My parents are still together. I think I was kind of a rebellious child growing up, but I'm not sure. I think I had a cat. The name Cora rings a bell."

"I'm curious about something." Namjoon said suddenly and you jumped, looking up at him. "Even though you can't see her, I wonder if you could feel her." He said, turning to face his friend.

"I thought you said she was a ghost?" Jimin asked, eyebrow raising.

"She is, but for some reason I could feel her. Not the same as if I were to grab your arm, not solid like that, but it was a weird, tingly sensation. Like I was definitely touching something...but something not normal."

"Wow, thanks for that description." You scoffed, but he ignored you.

"Chim, hold out your arm."

Jimin appeared to be having an internal disagreement with himself before he sighed, holding his arm out across the table.

"Y/N, touch his arm."

You hesitated. What if you reached out and he couldn't feel you? What if you were relegated to following Namjoon around forever not knowing what your new purpose was? What if you really were just here to haunt him?

You internally scoffed, that's ridiculous; of course, I'm not here to haunt him. Hesitantly, you stretched out your hand to touch Jimin's arm.

You weren't sure what you were expecting, but Jimin throwing himself back against the cushioned seats of the booth, eyes wide and staring at where your fingers had curled around his wrist was definitely not it.

"You can feel her, can't you?" Namjoon exclaimed and Jimin glared, shushing him quickly as the people at the other table glanced over from their seats.

"I don't know what I felt, but it was definitely something on my wrist."

"So, it's not just me." Namjoon whispered, slumping in his seat in relief, "for a moment there I really was beginning to believe that I'd snapped."

"What exactly did she do?" Jimin asked, peering across at you. You knew he couldn't actually see you, but his gaze was piercing. It was so inconvenient to not be able to talk to him yourself. Though you couldn't quite remember, you were pretty sure that you were relatively pretty. Jimin might have been interested if he could see you. This was turning into a lousy day. A hot guy - literally - couldn't see you and the only guy who actually could, while being relatively attractive himself, kind of hated you.

A blow to your confidence, if you were being honest.

"She just put her hand around your wrist." Namjoon waved off the question like it was no big deal and you watched in amusement as he basked in the knowledge that he was now somehow "special" because he could see you and Jimin couldn't.

"You were right, it felt weird. No offense, Y/N."

"None taken." You smiled and Namjoon turned to you and glared.

"Hey! Why is it that when he says you feel weird it's OK, but when I say it, I'm a jerk?"

"Because he's actually nice and didn't mean it offensively, whereas you're rude and mean!" You pouted.

"What did she say?" Jimin asked, leaning forward enthusiastically and Namjoon rolled his eyes.

"I think she has a crush on you." He scoffed bitterly.

Jimin grinned in smug satisfaction, leaning back in his seat. "Jealous?"

"As if!" Namjoon cried, folding his arms over his chest. "She's annoying anyway, so jokes on you!"

"Just when I thought we were making progress." You sighed, grinning up at him.

"So, why's she here then?" Jimin asked, pursing his lips in thought. Namjoon looked at you suddenly and you frowned.

"I don't know." You admitted softly. "When I died, I was really confused at first. I thought there was supposed to be a light right away but there wasn't so I looked around for a while and eventually gave up...turns out it's really hard to find." You sniffed, nose wrinkling in embarrassment and Namjoon tried not to let on how cute he actually thought that was. "Anyway, I laid out on a park bench for...a while, I don't actually know how long and then I decided to walk around and do some investigating and that's how I got stuck in your apartment."

"Because you were breaking and entering?" Namjoon smirked and you smile sheepishly.

"Guilty as charged."

"What I don't get," Namjoon mused, "is how you managed to get in but then couldn't get back out."

"Well, I think you must not have closed the door very well because even though my grip isn't great right now, I just kind of gently pushed and it opened."

Namjoon blushed, looking down at the table and Jimin smirked, “what did she say? Something about the door not being locked? Wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Is this a thing?” You gaped, “You actually have a reputation of not being able to close a door properly?”

Namjoon opened his mouth to argue but suddenly there was a loud noise by the door of the bar and two new guys were walking towards the table waving. They were so handsome that, had you had breath to breathe, it would have been sucked right out of your lungs.

“What the actual hell, are you friends with every male supermodel in the city?” You mumbled, but Namjoon ignored you, standing to greet his friends. They slid into the booth and the one they’d called Taehyung sat right beside you, grinning and smelling like a glorious cedar wood forest after it rained. Cliché, but so completely true. “Oh, this one is really pretty. I think I’ll keep him.”

You could see Namjoon’s eye twitch as he struggled not to out his crazy situation to anymore of his friends and you grinned, staring more intensely at the side of Taehyung’s face, a small scar just above the corner of his lips catching your eye. “Oh, Namjoon, this one is really, really pretty. I want to touch him.”

“Don’t you dare!” Namjoon hissed and his friends turned to look at him in confusion. You grinned as he cleared his throat awkwardly, “don’t you dare leave this bar until you’re sufficiently drunk, I mean.” He chuckled and both Jungkook and Taehyung laughed, ordering a couple beers between them.

“Don’t worry,” Jungkook grinned, “just give me a few hours and I’ll make sure I’m smashed.”

You chuckled, “Oh, he’s really cute too. Namjoon, are they single?” Namjoon ignored you completely and you frowned, folding your arms across your chest. “Oh, buddy, fine, you wanna ignore me? I’ll talk your ear off the second we’re back in your apartment. My ghost ass is stuck with you so you better be prepared.”

You could see Namjoon’s eyebrow twitch in aggravation, but that was all he gave you before he dove into a very heated conversation about which video game was better, Portal or Modern Warfare. You contented yourself with looking around the bar and eavesdropping on their conversation every few minutes. It’s all you could do anyway, Namjoon was the only one that could see you and he was pretending you didn’t exist. Perhaps exist wasn’t the right word anyway.

A few hours later and half a table full of beer, the guys were sufficiently tipsy, leaning back into the cushions of the booth with hiccups and giggles being shared. “So, have you grown a pair and asked out Eunae yet?” Jungkook burped and you frowned. He was slightly less attractive now. He smirked at Namjoon who glowered and you sighed dreamily.

Never mind. Still hot.

“I’m not afraid to ask Eunae out,” Namjoon griped, “I’m finessing her. Unlike you idiots, I have class and know how to woo a lady.”

Jungkook shrugged, taking another swig of his beer, “I would have piped by now. That’s just me, though.”

“Not really a shocker given that you think primarily with your dick.” Namjoon scolded and you couldn’t help but laugh. You could see his eyes flick to yours briefly, a hint of a smile twisting in the corner of his mouth before he was turning back to his friends to find Jungkook obnoxiously mocking him with a high-pitched voice and a flick of his hand.

“Oh, you like a giiirl?” You cooed loudly, leaning into Namjoon’s side and he flinched slightly at the contact. You supposed it was your weird, tingly ghost skin. “You should bring her over sometime, I’ll scope her out. I’ve got an eye for this sort of thing.”

“There’s no way I’m bringing her around you; you’ll just haunt her.” He hissed under his breath. The other guys were just drunk enough that Namjoon talking to himself didn’t arouse any of their suspicions.

You scoffed. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not haunting you. I don’t even know why I’m attached to you. Oh, maybe we could read some folklore when we get home, it might explain what’s going on!”

“I think you mean urban legend,” he mused, “and those are all just fictional.”

“You’re talking to a ghost.” You deadpanned as he looked down at you, dimple imprinting in his cheek as he frowned. “Clearly there’s some truth to it all.”

“Perhaps so,” he admitted, “but I still think there’s a scientific reason to all this.”

“Yeah, well, when you can find a scientific reason you go ahead and let me know. Until then, let’s read some spooky stories when we get back to the apartment and try and get down to the bottom of this.”

“I mean, aren’t they all just going to say something about unfinished business? You don’t remember much from when you were alive so how do you expect to get anything done so you can cross over? And how am I supposed to be helpful?”

You shrugged, attempting to play with one of the napkins on the table. It fluttered slightly before becoming immobile and you huffed. “I assume we’ll find out at some point…I hope.”

“I gotta call it a night!” Taehyung said loudly, standing and pulling some cash from the pocket of his jeans. “My girlfriend told me not to come home too late.”

“Oh, that’s a bummer,” you murmured, “he’s got a girlfriend.”

“Whipped!” Jungkook hollered drunkenly and Namjoon shushed him from across the table.

“Someday you’re gonna find someone you wanna be whipped for.” Taehyung smiled, lopsided, and you grinned. What a romantic. “I’m not even mad about it. See you later, guys.”

The others waved him off and Jimin yawned stretching his arms above his head, “we should probably go too. I’ve got a 9am and I need to hydrate before bed.”

“Party fowl!” Jungkook booed loudly.

“Suck a fat one.” Jimin said, standing and adjusting his jeans. “Joon, you ready?”

Namjoon nodded, standing and pulling his wallet from his jeans, grabbing some cash and dropping it on the table. “Yeah, let’s go. Come on, Guk, time to go home.”

“You guys are boring.” Jungkook complained, standing with a huff, “It’s only midnight.”

“Tell that to my 4am call time.” Namjoon smirked and you watched curiously as Jungkook pouted, making his way to the bar to pay his tab.

“He’s the party boy, isn’t he?” You mused, standing beside Namjoon who smiled down at you.

“How could you tell?” He teased.

“Just a hunch.” You chuckled, watching the drunken man baby make his way back through the tables.

“Hey, can you give me a ride?” He asked, stopping just in front of you, “Tae and I were supposed to share a cab back.”

“He might still be out there, let’s go check. If not then sure, I won’t leave you stranded.”

The four of you ventured out into the parking lot, spotting Taehyung’s mop of dark hair by the side of the road, hailing a taxi. “Don’t leave without me, bitch!” Jungkook shouted and Taehyung turned to look at him just as a taxi was slowing down beside him.

“Hurry up then, loser!”

Jungkook said his goodbyes quickly, jogging unsteadily over to his friend and climbing into the cab with him.

“So, what’s Jungkook studying, anyway? How to be an eboy 101?” You snickered, climbing into the car after Jimin had unlocked the doors, watching as he buckled himself into the driver’s seat, pushing the hair back out of his face. Man, he was sexy.

“Actually, both Taehyung and Jungkook are studying law.” He said.

Jimin gave him a strange look before realization washed over his features and he nodded, leaning his head back against the headrest and pulling from the parking space.

“Lawyers?” You gasped, “no way!”

“Yep,” he chuckled, “they’re actually pretty decent, responsible guys, but Jungkook in particular is pretty young and likes to let loose.”

“Just goes to show, you can never judge a book by its cover.” You nodded, staring out the window.

Jimin was the first to head to bed once the three of you had returned back to their apartment. Namjoon waved him off before turning to you, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. “So…did you need me to make a bed for you on the couch or something?”

He scratched the back of his neck and his awkwardness was suddenly endearing. “No,” you smiled, shaking your head, “I don’t sleep.”

“Right.” He nodded, watching as you surveyed the room. “So, you’ll still be here in the morning?”

“Can’t seem to stay away.” You teased lightly and he smiled, sliding one slippered foot across the floor.

“Did you need me to set anything up for you? To keep you entertained for the night?” He asked, turning slightly towards the television.

“No, but thank you. I’ll be fine. Have a goodnight, Namjoon.” You turned away from him, walking towards the windows and you listened for the sounds of his footsteps, softening as he walked further down the hall and into his room.

In all reality, it was going to be a rather boring night. There wasn’t anything for you to do, after all. The thought of asking more from him was too humiliating, though. You were already imposing, even though it wasn’t intentional.

You would just have to content yourself with the stars. At least they were familiar to you.

~~<3~~ ~~<3~~

Surprise! Haha, hope you enjoyed! No one really told me if they wanted it or not, so I just posted because I can. xx

PS. In case you missed it, I also posted Charming Ch 3!

#btsbookclub #namjoon scenario #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fluff #namjoon x reader #namjoon angst #bts rm #bts rm x you #rm scenario #rm fluff #rm angst #bts namjoon

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