#the sheer rush of causing chaos?

[pathologicalreid]

just for now | s.r.

in which you find yourself helplessly in love with Spencer, and there's nothing left for you to do except finally let him catch you.

[previously]

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst (h/c) content warnings: blowing smoke part FIVE with an alternate ending tehehe, gunshot wounds, hospitals, arson/fire, blood, first aid, burns word count: 1.85k a/n: hahahahahahaha

The last thing you remembered was Spencer telling you he had to see you through, committing himself to watching another girl he loved die out of sheer loyalty.

Though the cool metal of the revolver had left your temple, you now felt an unfamiliar burn in your upper arm coupled with the overwhelming realization that you were still breathing. “Spence,” you spluttered, flipping your head up to see what happened.

While you’d been slowly tearing at your binds with a broken thumbnail, Spencer had managed to release his hands, leaving his ankles still bound when he lunged at the unnamed masked man. The now-empty revolver clattered to the ground, and its handler must have hit his head on something on the way to the floor because his head bent at an awkward angle while Spencer rolled off of him.

You could hear your blood rushing through your body while Spencer nimbly untied his ankles before scrambling over to you. “You almost had it,” he reassured you, pulling the last few fibers apart before turning his attention to your ankles.

Spencer helped you to your feet before gathering you in his arms. Through the cotton of his shirt, you could hear his heart pounding just as hard as yours was. “Are you alright?” You asked, though it was hard to place the fact that you were speaking, it sounded like your voice was coming from a foreign entity. It wasn’t the first time Spencer had tackled an UnSub, but it was the first time you’d seen it happen.

He pulled back slightly, looking down at you with his pupils blown in fear. “We should…” His voice trailed off, taking notice of the wound to your arm for the first time. “You’re bleeding,” he observed, face paling despite the fact that you were the one injured.

You looked over your shoulder, effectively waving off his concern when you heard voices coming from the hallway. “We need to go,” you urged, using your good arm to tug him in the direction of the door, away from the voices.

A stray bullet ricocheted off of the metal walls, striking a pipe above you while you hid behind a wall. Eyeing the burst pipe suspiciously, Spencer herded you through the building. He tried to stealthily hold his hand over your arm, applying firm pressure under the guise of staying together. Spencer guided you through the halls of the warehouse, moving with increasing urgency when you both started to smell smoke.

When the hallway split, another spray of bullets came, causing both of you to dive out of the way. In the chaos of violence, you ran, and in the process, you were separated from Spencer.

Glancing over your shoulder to see if he was behind you, you ran out of the side door. Not looking ahead to what you were running to but instead wondering what you might’ve been running away from.

The wind was knocked out of you when you ran into something—or rather, someone. You scrambled to regain your balance when you recognized the tattoo adorning the arm that caught you. “Derek,” Your voice gasped as you spun, looking around for any sign of Spencer.

There was no sign of the mess of brown curls you were so desperate to see. You tried to dig your heels into the grass, but you were led away from the structure.

“Where’s Spencer?” You asked, pulling yourself free of Derek Morgan and facing him, now joined by Rossi and an EMT.

The look on Derek’s face sent your heart into a freefall; he looked past you—back to the building—before shaking his head. “He came out thinking you’d be out here, but he ran back in when we told him you hadn’t come out yet.”

Blankly, you stared at your two teammates, making the split-second decision to dash to the doors, only to be stopped by Derek yanking you back. “No,” You screamed at him, trying to pull away as you watched the flames in the warehouse grow. “Spencer!”

Everything blurred together there, a mess of tears and a terrible headache that was developing. You continued to scream Spencer’s name while someone prodded at your wounded arm, only stopping when the ambulance doors closed, shutting you out from his fate.

You woke up in more pain than you had fallen asleep in. A sharp throbbing in your upper arm where your gunshot wound had been bandaged pulled you from your slumber, reminding you of the events of the last twenty-four hours. You were surprised when you opened your eyes to find your hospital room completely empty, no lingering members of the BAU waiting to witness those first blinks where you were just getting the crust from your lash line.

Using your good arm, you dragged a hand down your face and wiggled your toes in your complimentary hospital socks, trying to reacclimate yourself with the feeling of being alive by way of touch. You briefly skimmed the whiteboard that bore your name and patient information before looking around the rest of the room, eyes catching on an innocent yellow sticky note.

Written in metallic gel pen on the paper was: S.R. Rm. 207.

Your eyes flittered back to your patient board, finding the room number listed in the nurse’s handwriting—204—perfect.

Thankfully disconnected from your IV tower, you pushed your covers off of your legs and swung off of the bed. Standing on shaky legs, you adjusted the back of your gown, making sure nothing was exposed before walking over to the door.

You cringed at the sound your socks made against the linoleum; each noise seemingly amplified tenfold while you tried to make your escape. In the corner of your floor, you peeked out of the door and scanned the room numbers for 207 before searching for any nurses who might try to steer you back to bed.

It served as some comfort that Spencer was only a cattycorner from you; some of the terror that had been associated with him running into a burning building had ebbed at the realization that he wasn’t in a burn unit. You stepped out of the door, taking sleuth-like steps across the floor until you found 207, cracked open, with nothing but a lamplight to illuminate the space.

Peering into his room, you saw him before he even noticed you were there, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose and a book propped open in his lap. However, what bothered you was that he was lounging in his own clothes, an old academy crew neck and flannel pajama pants. “Oh,” you breathed, accidentally startling him, “Well, that’s just not fair.”

His book snapped closed; you assumed he could simply recall whichever page he had ended on. “What are you doing?” He asked, brown eyes widening behind his lenses, clocking the bandages on your arm immediately.

Your face heated up as a result of his question. In the time you’d spent trying to sneak into his room, you hadn’t considered the possibility that he wouldn’t want to see you. Instead of voicing your concern, you shifted uncomfortably and closed the door behind you. “Really hoping my ass isn’t showing through my gown,” you answered.

Spencer looked around the room as if he were expecting someone else. “You shouldn’t be in here.” His mouth said one thing, but he set down his book with one hand and beckoned for you to approach him with the other.

Tilting your head to the side, you walked over to him until you were close enough to touch—close enough to kiss. The breeze of your exhales caused his hair to move in front of his forehead. “Are you gonna tell?”

His touch was so gentle, tentative fingertips found themselves on the cotton of your gown, careful so as not to harm any injuries he couldn’t see. He swallowed thickly, lamplight gleaming in his eyes as he shook his head once, “Not a chance.” He looked behind him, shifting on the bed and making room for you to join him.

Hospital beds were, of course, made for one, which meant the two of you were in close quarters together on his bed. There was something about seeing Spencer so dressed down that felt more intimate than any state of nudity he could ever be in; with this Spencer, there were no holds barred. With this Spencer, there were no walls to build. “You ran into a burning building,” you murmured, laying down so your injured arm could remain unhindered.

Spencer’s head bobbed, smoothing his thumb across your forehead before responding, “I thought you were in there.” His voice was wary, fully cognizant of the way his feelings had caused you to bolt before.

Taking your bottom lip in between your teeth, you nodded in understanding. An all-encompassing kind of comprehension that suited the circumstances, it was the kind of understanding that only came when you had once been between comprehension and the end. You were still breathing, and so was he, so there was only one way out. Sniffling, you nodded again, overwhelmed by the words that you couldn’t coax out of your lips.

So, Spencer did it for you. “Oh, honey,” his voice dripped with a similar sweetness, guiding your head to his chest so that you could rest. “Please don’t cry,” he pleaded softly. “I hate it when you cry.”

“I love you.” You wept to him, words you had been hellbent on taking to your grave practically slipped off of your tongue. You couldn’t pinpoint what it had been that did you in—his heroics, the way he smelled, your near-death experience—but perhaps it was an amalgamation of your whirlwind of circumstances that caused the three little words to be released into the atmosphere.

Spencer exhaled shakily, a broad hand splaying across your back as he blinked quickly, the rest of the room so quiet that you could hear the soft sound of his eyelids shutting. “You don’t need—”

You sniffled again, effectively interrupting his attempt to convince you otherwise. “Spence,” you breathed, “Haven’t we been through enough?”

He sighed, this time the air released itself smoothly, tugging your body closer to his, your combined warmth bringing you comfort that you had so dearly sought. “Yeah,” he conceded, “We have.”

“I—” you faltered, “I’m done running, if you’ll have me.”

Spencer was silent for a moment, and as his chisel started to pick at your heart, he spoke again before you could bleed out. “You know, you might need someone to help you out around your apartment while your arm heals,” he said, heavily implicating himself in your recovery.

For a moment, you thought of her, the girl hidden in the shadows, but when you lifted your head and looked into his eyes, you weren’t met with his grief. Instead, you found nothing but love, the kind that expanded and tightened your chest simultaneously. With love, you knocked down a final barrier and smiled softly at Spencer. “Oh, yeah. Do you know someone?”

"But we cannot simply sit and stare at our wounds forever." - Haruki Murakami

[wordsofwhimsy]

♥ My Hero ♥

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

【Ａ/Ｎ】⦂ Two posts, back to back?? Somebody better come put me out cuz I am on fireee 🔥🔥 This is just a cute little fluff piece for our main man cause I thought he needed some attention 😘 【ＰＡＩＲＩＮＧ】⦂ Main!Mark Grayson x Reader 【ＷＡＲＮＩＮＧＳ】⦂ None 【ＩＮＳＰＩＲＡＴＩＯＮ】⦂ “Here I Am” by Rick Ross

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Mark hovered outside your apartment, the familiar sense of comfort tugging at him as he flew the last few feet to your balcony. After a long day of fighting battles and putting out fires—both literal and metaphorical—he was looking forward to some semblance of peace. And there was no place that felt more like peace than with you.

He landed softly, his boots making a quiet thud on the floor of the balcony. As he stepped inside, the warm scent of something delicious hit him. It smelled like home, and for once, he felt like he could truly relax.

You were in the kitchen, humming happily to yourself as you stirred something in a pot on the stove. When you turned around and saw him, your face lit up like the sun had just broken through the clouds.

"Mark!" you cheered, setting the spoon down and rushing over to him. "You're here!"

He smiled, his exhaustion melting away just a little bit at the sight of you. "Hey. I made it."

You laughed, a joyful sound that made his heart skip a beat. "I’m so glad! I’m making dinner—well, trying to, anyway. You’re just in time to see how badly I struggle with cooking."

Mark leaned against the doorway, watching you with a grin. “I’m sure you’re doing fine.”

You gave him a playful look, grabbing a jar of garlic from the counter. "I’m not doing fine. This jar is impossible. I’ve tried everything, but I can’t get it open."

With a dramatic sigh, you held it out toward him, your brows raised in mock defeat. "I know I could probably do it if I had the right muscles, but… unfortunately, I don’t. So, hero, think you can help?"

Mark’s grin widened, amused by how you called on him for help so effortlessly. Even though he was absolutely drained from the day's chaos, there was something about your bubbly energy that made him feel lighter. He stepped forward, reaching for the jar, and with an almost embarrassing lack of effort twisted the lid off.

You gasped, eyes wide with exaggerated awe. "Oh my gosh! You’re my hero!"

Mark chuckled, holding the jar out to you like he was showing off a trophy. “Guess I’ve still got it.”

You looked at him with such admiration that it made his chest tight. “You’re so strong,” you said, practically glowing with excitement. “Like, seriously! You just make it look so easy!”

He couldn’t help but tease. With a sly grin, Mark stood up straighter, flexing his arm and giving you a playful eyebrow raise. “What? You think I’ve been skipping arm day?”

You looked at his flexed muscles, then back at him, your face lighting up with a mixture of admiration and sheer delight. “I think you’ve been skipping nothing,” you gushed, eyes sparkling. “I mean, look at you! You’re literally, like… a superhero.”

Mark’s grin widened, loving the way you fawned over him so freely. It was hard not to get a little caught up in the energy you were giving him. It was so pure, so genuine. In that moment, everything else—the fights, the battles, the stress—seemed to fade into the background. All that mattered was you.

He shifted slightly, still holding the jar in one hand. "Guess it’s not so bad being a hero when you get to come home to this," he said, his voice softening just a bit.

You beamed, leaning up to kiss him softly on the lips, lingering for a moment. “I’m just lucky you’re here.”

Mark’s heart skipped a beat, and for a second, the weight of the world didn’t seem so heavy. He put the jar down on the counter and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in for another, deeper kiss. When he pulled away all he could see was you, still looking up at him like he could do no wrong. The warmth of your smile, the way you were so genuinely excited to see him—it overwhelmed all of his sense and all he could think of was you.

“Alright, let’s see what’s cooking,” he said, shifting the conversation, but still holding onto that feeling of lightness that you brought him. He peered into the pot and saw a mix of vegetables and meat, filling the room with a mouthwatering aroma. "Smells amazing. What’s in the pot?"

You grinned. "It’s a surprise. But I’ll tell you this: it’s going to be the best thing you’ve ever tasted. Promise."

Mark laughed, leaning down to kiss your forehead before turning back to the counter. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the last of his exhaustion drift away as he started to help you prepare the rest of the meal.

Despite the brutal day, despite the fights and the villains, here in your kitchen, he felt like he was exactly where he needed to be. Your energy was infectious, your admiration for him so genuine that it made him feel invincible again, if only for a moment.

As he pulled a pot from the cabinet and set it on the stove, you wandered over to him again, still buzzing with excitement.

"You know," you said with a grin as you snaked your arms around his waist, resting your head on his back. "I think you’re more of a hero in real life than you even know."

Mark gave a small, playful shrug as he stirred the meal. “Well, I don’t know about that... but I’ve got to say, I’m glad I’m your hero."

You giggled. “That’s all that matters.”

[ninguitar]

KATSEYE AS YOUR GIRLFRIEND, 𓈒𓈒 1 year since their debut !!

pairing. katseye (separate) x f!r genre. fluff wc. 1.2k notes. ohyeaaaa 1 year since their debut 🗣️🗣️ this was meant to be posted yesterday 😭 ( MASTERLIST. )

now playing ⋆ debut by katseye

— SOPHIA LAFORTEZA ｡｡

girlfriend!sophia who spoils you no matter what; she spends the most astronomical amount of money on you !! just your mere gaze at an item while shopping with her, and she'll be by your side immediately paying for that item.

girlfriend!sophia who is so, sooo attentive to you. she remembers all your orders at certain restaurants like the back of her hand and unconsciously orders them for you whenever she's picking up food !! ><

girlfriend!sophia who is always looming over you—making sure you're okay !! anytime you're upset, she immediately rushes to your side, bringing a "care package" filled with trinkets and snacks in for you. always, always showering you with affection, your heart aching at how infatuated she is with you !!

girlfriend!sophia who carries a picture of you in her wallet, never taking it out ever. she thinks it's some sort of way of bringing you everywhere she goes, even if you guys are miles apart. even goes the extra mile of carrying another picture of you in her phone case too !! she just loves you so much :3

girlfriend!sophia who is the standard—always opening the door for you, leading you through crowds, following the "sidewalk rule," giving you her jacket during cold days !!!

— MERET MANON BANNERMAN ｡｡

girlfriend!manon who is your own personal designated hypewoman !! you name it, and she's always hyping you up no matter how goofy you're being.

girlfriend!manon who always listens to you talk for every second of it, making sure she absorbs every little detail. watching you with heart eyes, she'd make small, goofy comments in response to you. ^_^

girlfriend!manon who is a complete sucker for you—talking about you to everybody, bringing you up even if it doesn't involve you at all. hell she would even get your name tatted on her for you >< sometimes would even post mirror pics with you with hearts as the caption !!

girlfriend!manon who is also your photographer—anywhere, anytime. has photos of you filling up her photo gallery and insists on not deleting them even if she has no storage left !!! she even has photos of you sleeping and causing sheer chaos that she uses against you to tease you.

girlfriend!manon who, whenever you guys try new restaurants/cafes, chooses the worst item on the menu, and ultimately always eats your food, making you protest playfully !! nonetheless, you let her because how could you not when she just looked so cute and sad </3

— DANIELA AVANZINI ｡｡

girlfriend!daniela who insists that she does your makeup for you !!! spoiler alert: she always kisses your lipstick off of you, letting it smudge with her own, and always makes you guys late.

girlfriend!daniela who curates a playlist on spotify with your favorite songs, trying to get into favorite artists !! always, always she plays those songs on her aux whenever you two go on a drive together.

girlfriend!daniela who encourages you to learn dances with her, her hands curling around your wrist, and dragging you along to do random dances. she just can't help but be admired by you dancing, her gaze flickering to you every few seconds. sometimes, she'd even wrap her arms around your waist, guiding you to the music.

girlfriend!daniela who can't help but tease you when helping you learn spanish !! how could she not when you were just so adorable when determined to learn her mother tongue?

girlfriend!daniela whose half of her wardrobe comes from you, wearing them as though they were hers. there has never been a week that went by where she didn't wear at least one of your articles of clothing :3

— LARA RAJAGOPALAN ｡｡

girlfriend!lara who specifically requests for your feedback on any of songs she's producing, always texting you randomly during the day, and sending you demos of her voice that make you levitate.

girlfriend!lara who loves, and i mean LOVES, to mess with you for fun. seeing your reaction just makes her giggle, especially when she sends you random selfies, often making heat curl on your cheeks.

girlfriend!lara who, anytime you want piercings, insists that she comes with you !! even if you're not afraid of needles, nonetheless, she uses it as an excuse to hold your hand, giving it gentle squeezes every few seconds. :3 to add on, whenever you guys are abroad, you sometimes shop for jewelry together, and often she has you choosing jewelry for her belly piercing ^_^

girlfriend!lara who has a small pout forming on her face whenever you buy an album to support the girls and don't pull her photocard !! she immediately gives you one herself, making you tease her, though you nonetheless slipp it into the back of your phone case.

girlfriend!lara who, in order to get a good night's sleep in her book, needs to cuddle with you—whether it's you as big spoon, or her as big soon, it doesn't matter to her !!! summer or winter, she needs you to be cuddling with her !!

— MEGAN SKIENDIEL ｡｡

girlfriend!megan who loves, LOVES doing spontaneous things with you; anytime you guys have an impulsive decision—such as tattoos—together, you always find a way to do them !!!

girlfriend!megan who has matching everything with you—rings, bracelets, necklaces, tattoos, you name it !!! she just wants to have a piece of you on her ^_^ !!

girlfriend!megan who is just a ray of sunshine !! anytime she talks, she just yaps on and on, and you can't help but stare at her with loving eyes, finding her rambles endearing >< her little smile whenever she talks that you js find sooo cute !!! and vice-versa whenever you talk, her eyes are always on you, staring at you intently !!

girlfriend!megan who has movie/show nights with you !! binge watching shows like glee and pen15 is alwaysss a must for her :3 she alwaysss talks during movies, making silly, little comments throughout the films ^_^

girlfriend!megan who is just a bit impatient !! she may love hearing you ramble on and on about whatever, but at one point, she'll just start looking at your lips, fixating on them while mumbling small replies >< soon enough she wouldn't be able to contain herself, meekly pressing her lips against yours softly !!!

— JEONG YOONCHAE ｡｡

girlfriend!yoonchae who, during your school years, would pass you little post-it notes in class with checkboxes like:

"hey u look cute tdy !! date after skl pls" ▢ yes!! ♡ ▢ no :( ”

girlfriend!yoonchae who has a pout forming on her face whenever you visit korea and meet her dog !! how could her dog like you more than her ?? >< her dog somehow always eases into your touch more than yoonchae's whenever you two are playing with the dog together !!

girlfriend!yoonchae who takes pictures of you every time you guys go on dates !! her favs will always be the 0.5 ones of you, making them your contact icon for every messaging app :3 always using them to relentlessly tease you

girlfriend!yoonchae who is capable of sleeping everywhereee; you name it, and she's been asleep there before !! sometimes (most of the time) will even drag you to take a nap with her—who are you to decline her requests !!! burying her head into the crook of your neck, as she quickly falls asleep ><

girlfriend!yoonchae who feels like she could be her true self around you !! you're practically her safety net, knowing that you would never judge her; she always, always opens up to you, showing all her sides. to add on, she'll constantly want to try new things with you, getting sooo excited !!! :3 it means the world to her that she can heal her inner child

love me once i know you'll love me twice

love me once the naughty turns to nice

taglist. ୨ৎ @lararajjj @kisshae @sed7ction @yeetaberry127 @vrtualstar

@jellaaa @artrizzler19 @falling-intoo-deep

[gotta-winwin]

OT13 Reaction -- to winning at MAMA awards

masterlist

a/n: in celebration of our boys winning both AOTY awards at MAMA last night. i am so incredibly proud i feel like i raised them or something. like guys- it is that serious they are my family and im going insane.

SCOUPS: you're the first one he's calling once he's offstage - he's dialling your number and a whole string of nonsense rattles off him the moment you pick up. he can't string together proper words as you congratulate him. tells you how fucking happy the boys are - you should've seen them, love - did you see woozi crying? and DK - he smiled so big - needs you to bring him back to earth and remind him that this is his award too. he deserves it just as much as they do.

JEONGHAN: he's literally been bored out of his mind as you guys sit at home, watching the award show live. the only times he's acc been paying full attention was whenever groups he knew personally were on screen - and even then - you know you're losing him to how tired he is. lets out the tiniest, babiest gasp when seventeen is announced as the winner. is crying but turns away so you can't call him out on it.

JOSHUA: he runs home to you right after their dinner together and collapses into your arms. he's spent from the sheer chaos and adrenaline. mumbles sweet nothings about how this award is also yours. we won, baby. we share everything - this award is because of you - all because of you.

JUN: he's hiding out in his filming trailer so he can watch the award show through your phone on facetime - it's grainy and glitchy as HELL but he does not care. there's a 3 second lag when seventeen's announced as the winner - so he can hear you screaming but he doesn't know why. his mouth drops once the wifi catches up and he's practically glowing the entire day on set.

HOSHI: comes home wasted and a bundle of pure energy. he's on a high from the win- rushes home to yell into your ear how ecstatic he is as he tackles you for a hug. tells you he's literally so down to name your firstborn child AOTY just cause.

WONWOO: he comes home rather calm despite the chaotic evening he just had. runs you through his whole day- from getting his makeup done to winning the award to having celebratory dinner. you sit and listen happily, cause this is the most yapping you've ever seen this man do and you're SO happy. finishes his yap session by telling you that you make it all worth it - you're the real award, not MAMA.

WOOZI: tells you not to watch their acceptance speech even though he knows you already did :( is uber embarrassed at how emotional his speech was. I was gonna go up and accept it like a nonchalant cool mysterious man but NO! I just had to cry. he doesn't talk about the win much to you, preferring to just enjoy a quiet night in after the crazy evening. whispers to you once you fall asleep that this is why he does music and thanks you and the boys for being his biggest fans.

THE8: sends you the badass photo of him with all their trophies, followed with a long paragraph about how grateful he is to have you next to him through it all. he's unbelievably bright and happy for the next couple weeks, resulting in you kind of missing sassy Hao and asking for him back. side eyes you when you ask and quips "you didn't win a daesang- I did." Well...he's back ig.

MINGYU: comes home and the first thing he says to you is: aren't you proud i didn't cry? pouts when you rewind the clip to point out: he did in fact cry, he was just hiding his ginormous body behind his members. vows to you he won't cry the next time they win- and yes, he promises there will be a next time. and many after that.

DK: a bundle of joy upon his arrival home. keeps telling you he doesn't know what he did to deserve all this- completely floored when you start ranting about why he deserves it all. blushes and hides his face cause the compliments have him shy.

SEUNGKWAN: comes home fully ready to unleash his bragging rights. asks you to only address him by AOTY daesang winner for the next hour, until the joke gets old and he just wants to relax with you. gets a little sappy retelling stories about their trainee days as you both walk down memory lane together.

VERNON: hands you a wad of cash the moment he enters your shared apartment. oh well. i lost the bet. he literally bet against his team winning and ofc you took him on it cause obv seventeen is gonna win?? tells you he was confident svt was going to win he just wanted an excuse to give you cash.

DINO: promises to shout you out the next time svt wins a daesang. obv you don't believe him, so he defends himself, promising that he will 100% name drop his girlfriend on global television for shits and giggles. yeah, i'll just grab the mic and say "i dedicate this award to my WIFE" and watch the internet explode. why not?

[paulyenvol6]

Delicate

Based on this amazing request (Thank you so much, I had a blast writing this :)). Just wanted to let you know that I haven't watched Materialists yet so I'm sorry if I wasn't able to capture Harry's character so well, but I tried my best! Anyways, enjoy <3

Contains: fluff, sweetness overload, brief mentions of anxiety and panic, little bit of crying but nothing heavy, mentions of alcohol, kissing, suggestive tension

Wordcount: 7,796

Masterlist

You nibbled at your thumb and instantly cursed yourself as you dropped your hand.

You weren't supposed to be so nervous. And you certainly weren't supposed to fall back into your old habits and bite your nails out of nervousness. This was just a date after all, a nice dinner at a beautiful restaurant to see how the two of you would be going along.

On one hand you didn't want to go into this with too many expectations. But when you thought about Harry, his gentle smile and soft brown eyes you couldn't help it. You couldn't help but feel your heart clench and as much as it could be caused by sheer anxiety, part of you knew that after your first meeting at the wedding last week, you sort of had a little… crush? Who could blame you, really? He was a dream. A perfect, surreal dream that was almost too good to be real.

"Hi!"

You twirled around, clumsy hands reaching for the wall of the building next to the restaurant to ground yourself and prevent yourself from stumbling.

"H-Hi, Harry," you smiled, your heartrate shooting up, but the curl of your lips genuine. Then your gaze dropped to what he was holding in his left hand and this time your heartbeat didn't fasten, but on the contrary, it stopped for a brief moment. He had a bouquet of flowers in his hand, with shades of purple and violet catching your eyes as you took in the various tulips, asters, petunias, and clematis.

"Oh," you made and involutarily squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassement. This was the worst reply you could think of. No 'thank you' or 'wow', just a stupid 'oh'.

"It's very good to see you," Harry said, smirking as he handed you the bouquet of flowers. "For you. You mentioned that purple is your favorite color, so I thought…"

He left the sentence unfinished, but your eyes were on the bright purple anyway. The muscles around your mouth were twitching and tingling, an untamable chaos thrumming in your stomach as you took the bouquet with trembling hands and then looked up to him again.

Say something. Thank you. Anything.

"Thank you so much," you eventually said, a little too late, but still reasonable.

"You're welcome," he answered, invitingly raising his eyebrows."I can carry the bouquet while we go inside. It might be a bit unwieldy. Besides, you've got your purse."

You blinked a few times and all you were able to think about was how dumb and slow you must look to him. It took you an extra 10 seconds to process each of his words, and then you responded with as few words as possible.

"Yeah, that'd be great. And really, thank you. I love the color purple and the flowers are so pretty." You were content with yourself now, softly exhaling as Harry glanced at your profile while offering you his arm.

"I'm glad. There were two bouquets I liked and had to choose between and I wasn't really sure which one to take, but I was in a rush because I obviously didn't want to make you wait and so I was forced to make a decision. Sorry for being a little late by the way."

You chuckled, turning toward him while taking his arm.

"You were not late. I was a bit too early."

Harry pushed the door open, but you were too absentminded to observe your surroundings such as the waiter standing by the door, the dimly lit interior of the italian restaurante, the bar and the flower bouquets by the entrance that didn't quite match the color of your flowers, but didn't look any less pretty. You were so taken by Harry, he was like a black hole sucking in all your attention and making you hyperaware of every single detail of him – the things you had already noticed the day you had met him as well as the new ones. The little scar on his hairline, the few grey strands highlighting his thick black hair and of course his indistinct smile. The way it seemed to reach his eyes at once, making them shimmer and radiate warmth and comfort, which you found remarkable considering the fact that you had only just met him.

Harry exchanged a few words with the waiter, but you couldn't hear them. Not just because you were daydreaming about the man next to you, but also because of the loud noises in the restaurant. For a moment you feared that the muffled mumuring and loud laughter might impose a struggle for your conversation, but it turned out the waiter was leading you to a table slightly away from the others. The distant piano music was still in your ear, but a lot more subtle now and so was the mumbling from the other guests.

Harry, the polite gentleman that he was, pulled back the chair, waited until you had sat down and then adjusted it while you smiled over your shoulder.

"Thank you. Your manners really are remarkable. I almost feel bad because I wasn't taught all of this."

He grinned while taking his seat across the table.

"Don't. I like things to be a little romantic. Or, you know… I like a retro vibe at times. But I don't demand or - or god forbid expect the same from the people around me."

You nodded and ran your eyes over the cutlery spread out in front of you, swallowing at the sight of four spoons, four knives, and four forks. This was an expensive establishment and although you weren't surprised by Harry taking you somewhere fancy, you still felt a little lost.

"It's so beautiful in here. I love the tapestries and the paintings. Do you come here often?"

"Not really. I like to save this place for special occasions."

God he was a flirt and the wink of his left eye didn't exactly improve the situation. You were his special occasion and despite acknowledging his words for a polite gesture, you found that it wouldn't have been necessary to answer that way. Maybe…, just maybe he actually saw potential for this, just like you did.

"But do you have any recommendations?" you wanted to know, hoping that the slight flushness on your face would be swallowed by the bad lightning.

"They have good pasta. I had the mushroom pasta once and I liked it," Harry answered with such a welcoming smile that you felt like your awkwardness didn't matter at all. He was encouraging you, giving you signs that none of this was odd or uncomfortable with subtle gestures such as his flashing eyes or his soft tone when he was adressing you.

"Maybe I'm gonna try that one then," you said more to yourself and dropped your eyes to the menu. The prices next to the selections of food were making your eyes widen, but you had a strong feeling, Harry hadn't accidentally chosen this place. At least you didn't want to order the most expensive meal on the menu, so you actually decided to go with the mushroom pasta.

"How was your day?" Harry asked once the waiter had taken your orders (Pasta Arrabiata for your date) and leaned over the table, elbows resting on the surface.

"Oh whatever," you wryly grinned, swinging your head to the side as you made yourself comfortable on the cushion.

"What does that mean?" he asked, wrinkling his forehead.

"Work was a little stressful. And I got into a fight with my sister. But you know… I was just thinking of our dinner tonight and that kept me going."

Harry returned the smile, his hand toying with the salt shaker, but his eyes on you.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Yes. If you really wanna know… My sister's getting married soon and I wanna be supportive and patient and you know, be calm even when she freaks out, but today I don't know…" You sighed, wiping over your eyes. "I was stressed because of work and then we met for lunch and I immediatly saw how nervous and restless she was and so we were both kind of strained and had a fight. Over something stupid, it doesn't even really matter. But now I feel bad because I feel like I have to be a better sister and I'm unsupportive because this is such a special time for her and I wasn't there for her today."

Harry nodded in understanding, biting down on his lip as he watched you.

"I'm sorry. But your feelings are valid too. You felt stressed and overloaded and that means you deserve someone to be there for you too."

You carefully glanced up to him, feeling so relieved and touched by his words, but regretful over the fact that it had taken less than 5 minutes for you to complain and pour your heart out to him. What must he think of you? That you were an emotionally unstable drama queen who wasn't capable of having normal small talk? You sighed, forcing your lips to curl into a smile.

"Thank you. And… I'm sorry, I don't wanna bother you with my problems now while we are in such a nice place. How was your day?"

Harry lowly chuckled, chewing on his bottom lip and was just about to say something when the waiter came to bring your beverages. A bottle of Sangiovese and two glasses that he placed in front of the two of you. After he had poured you an appropriate amount of the deep red liquid, Harry looked at you again.

"Now I forgot what I wanted to say… Oh yeah I know: don't apologise, okay? I'm glad you feel comfortable talking to me about stuff like this and I'm happy to listen. And you're not bothering me with it. If it makes you feel better, I'm all ears for you. Okay?"

You laughed, your finger tracing the base of the wine glass and a telling pink creeping up on your cheeks.

How could someone be that nice?

Your face was glowing, your heart pounding in your chest as you gave him a nod.

"Good," he answered, leaning back in his chair and raising his glass along with you.

"To good conversation then," he grinned and your glasses gently clinked together, producing a soft, tinkling sound.

"Damn small talk," you joined and then took a careful sip from the wine.

"Oh it's good," you said once you had removed the glass from your lips and put it back down on the table.

"It is. And I thought it would go well with both of your pastas." Harry did the same thing as you, lowering the glass and then tilting his head.

"Oh and you asked about my day… Not that stressful fortunately. But I did have a weird encounter with a cat on my way to work."

"With a cat?" you giggled.

"Yeah. She wouldn't stop following me until I was about to step into the office building. I don't know what it was, but I guess I should feel flattered."

You smirked and rested your chin on your palm, watching Harry with a sparkle in your eyes.

"You should've adopted her. Maybe you just met your soulmate."

"I do hope that my soulmate is not a cat," he scoffed. "And maybe I need to keep myself available for now. Not jump into a new relationship while I'm getting to know someone as lovely as you."

You almost shuddered at his words, a warm shiver rushing down your spine in the most comforting way.

"You're right about that. And I mean I couldn't possibly compete with a cat like that. Especially when she's so loyal to you."

Harry winked, taking another sip from his wine.

"I don't think you have to worry about that. Not being able to compete with a cat, I mean."

The two of you laughed and only now did you realise how comfortable and at ease you were. There was no trace left of the initial nervousness and you could only once again silently thank Harry for his endearing and calm nature.

Soon the food came and a little later the two of you were deeply invested in a hot-headed discussion about literature. You found out about his love for modernism and that his favorite author was Kafka and long after your plates were empty and all that was left of the wine were a few stains at the edge of the glasses, your conversation drifted to music. Harry turned out to be a big fan of 70s and 80s music and you were more than happy to have found an equally passionate counterpart when it came to your favourite bands and musicians. And then, noticing your yawns that grew more regular over time, Harry cleared his throat, dimples visible as he raised his eyebrows.

"Are you tired?" he asked, his voice so soft and husky that you felt goosebumps rise on your arms.

"Yes, a little. I think it would be good to get home soon, I have to be at work early tomorrow," you admitted, apologetically pursing your lips.

"Of course. How did you get here, do you want me to drive you home?" he asked, but already scanned the restaurant for a waiter.

"No, no, that's alright. I took the subway."

He stopped in the motion, his gaze lingering on your eyes and a frown visible on his brow.

"I'm not gonna let you take the subway so late. I'm afraid I have to insist."

You were doubtful, but couldn't deny the bubbly coil in your stomach area. He was sweet and affectionate and unfortunately you were the kind of person to fall for stuff like that.

"But it's not really on your way, is it?" you whispered nonetheless because you really didn't want him to waste his time and be the reason for it.

"Y/n," he said, carefully, almost shyly, placing his hand on top of yours, which made the corners of your mouth lift.

"I want to drive you home. It's about 15 minutes. Otherwise you would have to take the train and not only wouldn't it be safe, but this is much faster. Please let me."

What were you to say against this? You found you had no choice but to approve, but thanked him a million times in the next few minutes until Harry once again stated that you were doing him a favor by letting him drive you.

"I wouldn't be able to have a peaceful drive home if I was worried about your safety."

Then you stayed silent about the topic and found yourself in his passenger seat five minutes later. His expensive passenger seat, as it might be worth mentioning. The leather felt cool against your naked thigh and although Harry had told you that he drove the black mercedes for almost 4 years now, it still smelled new and fresh. Of warm vinyl, something clean and money.

Harry had held you the door open and now walked around the car to take his seat on the other side.

"Ready to go?" he asked once the two of you had fastened your belts and glanced at your profile with a mischievous smile.

"Always," you replied and then the bright lights around you, the distanced red of some traffic lights, the logo of a cinema across the street and the lights behind the restaurant winows began dancing before your eyes as Harry started the drive to your apartment.

"I had a really good time tonight," he said after a few seconds, his eyes on the street, but his pupils flickering like he had to fight the urge not to look at you to watch you for your reaction.

"So did I. I would love to do it again," you answered, but then furrowed your brow. "But I can't have you invite me to such an expensive restaurant again, Harry. Although this was probably the best pasta I've ever had."

"Then why not? I like making you happy and I don't mind. But if you really want to do something else, I know a nice bar just down the street. We could meet there and grab something to drink later this week. Maybe it would also be better to do something earlier so you won't be tired for work the next day."

You had to bite your lip, partly because you loved the way he cared about you, remembering all the little signs and things you had said earlier, but also because the prospect of going out with him again this week made you fear for the sound that might escape your throat.

"I would love that. Just tell me when and where," you grinned and excitedly intertwined your fingers.

"Perfect. What do you think about Thursday? I get off work at 6, so maybe 7?"

You could only nod with a stupid smile glued to your lips, but Harry couldn't see it anyways.

"So we're making plans before you have even dropped me off… I'd say that's a good sign, right?"

His teeth scraped his lower lip, a brief glimpse in your direction the only answer you received.

You tapped on your phone screen, your breath coming out in sharp hitches.

6:57.

You would make it, you were sure. The bar was just around the corner and you still had 3 minutes, so you just had to hurry up a little. But you didn't want to be soaked with sweat when you arrived.

What was more important? Being on time or your face not glistening with sweat?

Fuck it, you thought and slowed down. One or two minutes too late wasn't a big deal. Last time you had waited for Harry for 5 minutes, but to be fair, you had been 10 minutes early. You briefly closed your eyes, shaking your head to clear your mind and forcing your racing breath to calm down. Everything would be fine and overthinking it would only make you more nervous.

You were heading around the corner now, blinking a few times at the sun-drowned street and raising your hand to protect your eyes from the soft, golden rays. You looked at your phone again. 5:59 and no text from Harry.

A part of you, a strange, anxious and insecure part of you feared to get a massage cancelling the date from him, but at the same time the rational part of you knew that he wouldn't do that. It was him after all.

Him, who you hadn't been able to stop thinking about for the past two days. Him, who had been haunting your mind like a ghost howling around a scary, decayed lodge and him, who was now standing in front of the bar a few feet away from you.

You waved, but instantly felt awkward doing it so you lowered your hand. Harry had noticed you though and turned toward you, the smile on his face visible even from the distance.

"Hey!" he said once you were in reach and determindely took a step toward you, pulling you in for a gentle hug, which you welcomed with an inaudible happy sigh. He was so warm, so soft and big. His hands were on your back, sprawled out on the small of your back and stroking up and down your clothed skin.

"Very good to see you. You look beautiful" he said against your hair.

It took you much too long to answer him, your senses overstimulated and cloudy from the smell of his aftershave in your nose, but when you eventually did, Harry had already withdrawn, leaving you disappointed that the body contact had ended so soon.

"Thank you, so do you. And I'm happy to see you too. How have you been doing? Any more weird encounters with cats?"

"Oh way too many," Harry answered, chuckling softly and putting his hands in his front pockets.

He looked absolutely gorgeous tonight, wearing a black turtelneck, a jacket and plain, grey tousers that fitted him suspiciously well. So well that you were almost sure they were tailored to his body.

"But no, she luckily left me alone. You get aaaaall my attention tonight, I swear. Should we go in? Then you gotta tell me about the concert. I'm just happy to see you and the band wasn't so taken by you that they took you on tour with them."

Harry placed a hand on the small of your back, gently guiding you to the door and you immediately felt your heartrate picking up as the warmth of his palm spread in your body. You just hoped that it wouldn't be too hot inside because you were already struggling here, the air somehow stuffy although a cool breeze was blowing through the city.

Soft piano music was lingering in the air as Harry opened the door, taking a step aside, so you could enter the bar. You were welcomed by indistinct mumbling combined with the tinkling jazz notes the woman by the piano produced with her elegant slender hands dancing over the keyboard.

"Over there?" you said over your shoulder, your hand gesturing to a table in the corner of the bar, and approached it once Harry had given you a nod.

The butterflies were awakened at the sight of him taking off his jacket and putting it over his chair. Tonight you noticed a ring on his pinky finger, a green emerald if your eyes weren't mistaken by the dim light.

"And?" Harry said loudly to overcast the noises from a larger group of people gathered by the counter.

"What?" you asked, frowning in confusion.

"Tell me about the concert."

"Oh right. It was amazing. Absolutely amazing. My friend and I were at the venue at like… I think like 3pm and I'm eternally grateful to her for calling in sick for the afternoon just so we could be there early. I don't think my legs are every gonna recover from standing so long, but it was amazing. And it was worth it, we were second row."

You wore a broad smile, your eyes sparkling as you told about the perfect night that had happened the day before and reached for your phone in your back pocket.

"You wanna see a picture?"

"Sure," Harry said, leaning over the table to watch the photos on your phone.

"Oh wow. You really had a great view. And – oh I see... the bass you told me about."

"Yes," you grinned proudly, turning your phone so you could take another look at the instrument of your dreams.

"It sounded soooo good, you wouldn't be able to imagine it. And to take a look at it from up close? It was more than I could pray for. And of course the band… They were magical. One of the best concerts I've ever been to, and the crowd, the vibes… I'm already missing it."

Harry watched your screen for a few more seconds before leaning back in his chair again, wrinkles around his eyes as he tapped with his fingers over the wooden surface of the table.

"I'm really glad you had a good time and everything turned out so well. Do you know how many people were there?"

"Mhmm I'm really bad at estimating stuff like that, but maybe… I don't know, like 4000 people? It wasn't a large show, but not super small either."

With trembling hands you put the phone back into your pocket. Not only because just thinking about the show from last night made you all excited and pumped with adrenaline again, but also because you almost lost it at the way Harry seemed genuinely interested in what you had been doing and were telling him right now. You felt appreciated and seen. Like this man sincerely wanted to know about you and what was going on in your life and you could honestly say that no man had ever made you feel like that.

"But what about you? Anything special that happened the last days?"

Harry thoughtfully pursed his lips, scratching his temple and crossing his legs under the table.

"I met with my brother, which was nice. But apart from that just a lot of work. Which is fine, I don't wanna complain, but I almost feel bad that this is all I can report from the last two days."

"No, don't. I don't go to a concert every week. This was special for me too."

Harry smiled at you, taking in your face and the softness around your eyes. His knee briefly brushed against your leg, making your heart skip a beat and you wondered how you would ever be able to initiate any kind of physical contact if you reacted to the briefest touch of his knee like that.

"Good. I don't wanna lie to you, I'm not the biggest party person. I like going out like this or have dinner at a restaurant or go to the movies, but my favorite nights are nights in."

"I get that. I love a solid night on the couch with a good movie and takeout food."

At this point, you were interrupted by a waiter taking your orders which consisted of two beers, but once he was gone, Harry picked up the conversation right where it had stopped.

"Noted," he smirked and you would have giggled like a teenage girl, hadn't you swallowed the sound in the last second.

"Did I mention that I have pets, by the way?" you tried to avert from your childish reaction, planting your elbows on the table.

"No, you haven't. What pets?"

"You can guess. I give you three options, but it's a bit unusual."

Harry narrowed his eyes, but nodded.

"Okay. I'm all ears."

"A: Two sand boas, B: axolotls or C: an ant colony."

You triumphantly glanced at him, watching as you could hear it rattle behind his scalp and challengingly lifting your eyebrows once Harry opened his mouth.

"I'm going for… Okay let me explain my thought process: It's not the axolotl. I don't know why, there is no explanation, but I just don't see you with one."

"Do you know me that well already, Harry Castillo?" you hissed through small eyes, but Harry just laughed it off and pointed at you.

"No, no, no. Don't you play mind tricks with me. I mean it could be the axolotl. But I don't think so for some reason. In my head you wouldn't really like them. And then… I think a sand boa is a bit more conventional, right? I think I'm saying A. Just because… I honestly really don't know why, but I pick A."

You hesitated for a moment, savouring the curious and prying look from your opposite before you slowly folded your hands in front of you.

"It's C. The ant colony."

Harry's face dropped, a fist bumping on the table as his face drew with exasperation.

"Damn it. But honestly… I'd call it a win. I said that it's not the axolotl and I was right. I just know you."

"Harry, you said A. And it was C. I wouldn't call that a win."

The two of you broke into laughter, your body vibrating until Harry chewed on his bottom lip.

"So an ant colony… That's cool. How did you come up with it?"

Before you could answer, your beers were brought to the table, your warm, sweaty hands instantly reaching for the cold glass. When the waiter was gone, you cleared your throat.

"That's actually a very good question. My family and I had a big garden growing up with lots of insects obviously. My mother loves gardening and she always specifically planted plants that are bee and butterfly friendly. My sisters and I always used to play in the garden and I don't know, maybe it's just some childhood thing, but a couple of years ago I was thinking about having a little pet in my apartment and I knew that my place would be much too small for a dog or cat so I thought why not something smaller."

"And you went for the very small ones," Harry chuckled, wrapping a hand around his glass.

"I did, yeah. But I love them. They are easy to keep, they aren't a lot of work but I still like looking at them. They might not be as cute as a dog, but in my apartment that would be animal cruelty. I wouldn't have enough time for a dog anyway."

"I get that. I love dogs too, but I would only get one if I lived in the countryside. Ants are nice though. They don't make loud noises or take up much space. Although… I haven't asked how big the terrarium is."

He watched you with acted suspicion, eliciting a scoff from you.

"Don't worry, it's not that large. There are around 400 of them. I keep them in a terrarium on a shelf in my bedroom."

You raised your glass and winked.

"What're we drinking to today?" you asked. "Please not ants."

Harry sniggered, lifting his glass as well and twisting his lips.

"Then… maybe to us?"

"Cheers," you replied, softly clinging your beer against his, your eyes locked and everything around you suddenly very unimportant.

An hour and a half later, the noises in the bar grew louder. The group by the bar was now severely drunk, producing a volume of laughter fitting their level of intoxication.

"Would you like to go?" Harry fought against the chattering, leaning over the table to get closer to your ear. "It's so loud in here and I'm afraid we're gonna lose our voices."

You gave him a short nod, looking around for a waiter, but Harry sensed what you were about to do before you could act.

"Let me, okay?" he said and put a large hand on top of yours.

"But Harry, come on, I – "

"I invited you, haven't I?" he smiled, but there was something genuinely pleadingful in his eyes that made you let out a soft laughter.

"Damn it," you made, but sank back in the chair while Harry made eye contact with a waiter.

"I'm feeling genuinely bad, Harry. You can't just invite me all of the time, I feel… I just feel bad."

"Please don't. How many times do I have to tell you? You make me happy by letting me pay the bill. And once again: I invited you and asked you on a date. So it only makes sense that I pay."

With determined and deliberate hands he grabbed the bill the waiter had left there and took out his briefcase. Fortunately, you had only been in a bar after all so the check wouldn't be too high.

Soon he was done, had left a generous tip and rose to his feet while you did the same. Leaving the bar, you felt his warm hand on your back again and this time, walking through a dense crowd, you were even more grateful for it. The cold air outside hit you like a sharp smack in the face, the air knocked out of your lungs. Goosebumps instantly spread on your naked arms and legs like a disease and Harry certainly didn't have to be a genius to notice the signs of your coldness.

"Take that," he said at once, taking off his jacket and putting it around your shoulders.

"Oh my god, thank you. But tell me if you're freezing," you replied, immediately feeling a comforting warmth travelling from your stomach through your body and to every last fingertip, but you couldn't be certain that the change was caused by the jacket and not just the mere gesture.

"No problem. I'm all good."

He turned toward you with his body, your gaze catching at his broad chest and you silently cursed yourself for being so obvious.

"I had an amazing night. Thank you," you said instead to distract him from your telling stare.

"So did I. I… Actually I wanted to know if you would like to come over to my apartment for a bit. We could have a drink and have a chat in a more quiet place if you want to. If not that's fine of course. I can also just drop you off at your place."

Your heartbeat was thundering up your throat, both excitement and the fear of saying something wrong making your head dizzy.

"No, I would love that. I would love to go to your place. Thank you."

And so it happened. Harry opened the passenger door for you, waited until you were inside, closed it and then walked around the car just like he had done two nights ago. Within the blink of an eye, he sat next to you, hands on the steering wheel, but his gaze lingering on your eyes.

"You really look pretty tonight. Not that it's an exception though."

"Thank you, Harry. Thank you for everything, you are… you are the sweetest."

You didn't know where that unfamiliar boldness was coming from, but it seemed to have the desired effect. Harry gave you a wide grin and then started the car while you were getting comfortable in the passenger seat.

"You say 'thank you' too often. It's cute, you know, but you don't have to."

"Maybe I just want to be cute."

Jesus Christ, was that the alcohol speaking out of you?

You hadn't had much to drink, not more than a single glass, but you felt so… light and courgeous. You had nothing to lose and Harry had given you more than one signal during your two dates. He definitely was interested and so were you, so what were you waiting for?

"I can promise you, you don't need that to be cute. I'm more than satisfied with what I got."

His voice was low and a little raspy and frankly, it drove you insane. This was so much better than in the bar where the two of you had to scream just so you could hear one another.

"Alright then. That's all I've wanted in the first place."

With one last mischievous dart in your direction Harry activated the indicators and drove out of the parking space heading west where his apartment was located. It wasn't more than a ten minute drive and time passed so quick that you were almost surprised when Harry slowed down, looked over his shoulder and parked the car right by a very fancy looking apartment building. During the drive, the car had been filled with chatter and laughter, a flirty kind of tension still heavy in the air at all times, but now that Harry had parked the car, unbuckled the seatbelt and opened the driver's door, most of the playfulness was gone and something hot and intense was lingering around the two of you like a cloud.

A quiet 'Wow' escaped your mouth at the sight of the expensive cars parked by the building and you most certainly didn't have to be very smart to figure out what kind of neighbourhood you were visiting right now. Harry had seen your look of sheer baffle, but didn't comment it, instead unlocking the door and holding it open for you.

"Welcome, my lady."

You quietly giggled, curiously stepped inside and found yourself in front of a door with the name 'Castillo' next to the doorbell plate a minute after the two of you had walked up a few stairs.

Everything here screamed luxury, the warm walnut wood that coated the walls, radiating a soft and effortless warmth without being too obnoxious, a thick carpet floor that swallowed the sound of your heels on the ground with each step and this very specific scent in the air. It was nothing radical, nothing aggressive or stark. Just a faint, soft hint of cedar. Or was it pine? You didn't know, all you knew was that it reminded you of something woody, something that made a warm and coiling feeling of comfort gush from your heart.

"There… we go," Harry murmured as he opened the door to his apartment and once again, a sound of amasement catched in your throat.

The last thing you wanted was to make the impression that you were reducing him to his money and you most certainly didn't. It was him, his character and gentle nature that had swept you off your feet and you were sure that nothing would change that, no matter how often he would insist on paying the bill or how many times you would step into this impressive apartment of his. It was Harry you were here for. It was him you wanted to see across the table while having dinner and it was him you wanted to be led through the apartment by. And you still wanted all of these things even if the two of you were eating at a McDonalds and Harry was leading you through a rancid barn.

Nonetheless, the beauty and elegance of his apartment could not be denied. The marble floor, the spacious hallway that was stretching to a door that looked like it led to the living area and the few paintings decorating the walls were marvelous and you told Harry so.

"It's lovely, Harry."

He turned around, giving you a smile that looked almost shy and then stopped in his motion.

"You're lovely."

Your heart stopped and it wasn't just because of his words. It was his eyes that looked even more puppy-like in the subdued light of his apartment. And god he looked beautiful in his black turtleneck shirt, showing off his broad shoulders and muscular arms.

Slowly, he approached you, his eyes on you at all times and with each step he took, your legs seemed to become weaker. By the time he had reached you, you felt like you were about to faint, your head spinning and your hands playing with the hem of your skirt.

"Can I kiss you?" Harry murmured when all that was separating you from him was a few cubic centimeters of hot, steamy air.

"Yes," you breathed and then your lips finally connected and all of this tension and pressure that had accumulated over the past few hours (past few days actually) was finally released.

His lips were soft and careful at first, like he was still trying to savour the moment and not go all in immediately. Like he wanted to slowly explore you, not rush things, but enjoy every new inch of tender skin one by one. Take his time with you. He gently took your bottom lip between his, sucking and covering it with small kisses and all it took was a minute of his sweet treatment for you to start sighing.

In the meantime, Harry's hands were on your waist, palming you through your dress while yours were combing through the babyhair in his neck, twisting single strands around your fingers.

And yet, when his hands wandered down your side, touching your bare skin right where your dress ended, you stiffened up. Not because you didn't like his hands on your body and not because you had changed your mind about Harry. But his intentions were clear, his mouth hungry and demanding against yours and somehow you didn't feel ready yet. It was just… you couldn't even describe it in your head, but this thing between Harry and you was special. Beautiful and delicate, new and unfamiliar, but something that you wanted to savour to the very last drop. And not that you felt appalled by him – you had actually been drooling over him like an animal all night – but it was in that moment that you realised what you wanted was to wait. You didn't know for how long, maybe you would like to sleep with him on your next date, but you knew tonight was too fast for you. Therefore you felt yourself tense up and Harry seemed to notice it as well.

"Are you alright?" he asked against your lips, hands on your legs coming to a stop and his face withdrawing just a little bit.

"Yes. But… can we wait a little? I don't know, just… I don't feel ready for that step yet."

His expression softened and you felt a wave of relief crash upon you. You had feared, almost expected to find his first red flag because honestly, how could a man be that perfect, but he once again turned out to be understanding and caring.

"Of course," he whispered, his voice so low and gentle, your legs started to tremble. "You don't need to explain yourself. We can wait for as long as you want to."

He stepped away from you, one corner of his mouth lifting while he gestured to a door across the hallway.

"I'm sorry. I was really rude overrunning you like this, I just… I couldn't help myself."

"No, no. I enjoyed the kiss, I really did. And I – I feel drawn to you. I thought I made that obvious. I don't know, I guess I just wanna explore things slowly. Wait until it feels right and maybe tonight would just be a little too rushed for me. But that doesn't mean I'm not interested, really."

You didn't know why, but suddenly tears were swimming in your eyes. Maybe it was overload or the fear of pushing him away. What if you were sending the wrong signals and Harry wouldn't ask you on another date because he thought you had lost interest? That couldn't be further from the truth and the anxiety of having just rammed a deep gorge between the two of you made you panic, eyes big and wet with frustration about yourself. Why couldn't you just kiss him back, proceed and spend the night with him? Why couldn't you just feel ready and kiss him with the same passion and a clear head? Why had there been those doubtful thoughts swirling in your head?

"Hey," Harry suddenly made, reaching for your hand and squeezing it gently like he was afraid to hurt you.

"It's okay… It's all good, there's no need to panic," he hushed you, but you just shook your head.

"Come. Let's get you inside."

Harry slowly, yet determindely guided you into his living room and then to the couch. The cushions creaked when the two of you sank down, his worried gaze on the wetness gushing from the corners of your eyes at once.

"Listen to me okay? We're all good, aren't we? There's absolutely no reason to feel bad. Please, I don't ever want you to feel bad for not wanting something. This is important, okay? I'm so happy you told me about your boundaries and you should be really proud of yourself. You think either of us would've had a good time if we did something that you're uncomfortable with?"

His words had a good effect on you, the lump in your throat slowly dissolving and yet you weren't quite ready to accept his affectionate words yet.

"But – But I don't know why. I mean, I don't know why I wanna wait, because… because I like how things are going right now, but in that moment… I don't know, I just felt that I wasn't ready for it. Maybe… I don't know, maybe I just need a little more time. If you're willing to give me that time."

Your round eyes shyly glanced at him and you had to swallow as Harry briefly sighed before taking your hands into his.

"Oh y/n… You think that's the only reason I'm going out with you? You think that's all I'm after? I'll give you as much time as you need, hell, I don't care how much time you need, I'm doing this because I'm interested in you. I, shit, I don't want this to be too much for a third date, but I really like you. I… I can feel that there's something between us and if you're willing to go on another date with me I'd love to figure out what it is."

You exhaled again and it felt amazing. Fresh air was entering your lungs, your chest heaving heavily with the newly found freedom.

"Yes. Of course I want that. I'm really sorry for this whole drama, jesus… I didn't plan on crying, but I guess some things you just don't see coming."

"Don't apologise for that…," he murmured, briefly brushing with his thumb over your knuckles.

"But actually I'm rather concerned about the picture you have of me. I don't want you to think of me as this kind of guy who only dates for the one thing. I mean, yes, I couldn't really hold back tonight because I was just… in awe of how beautiful you look, but as I said, that's not why I asked you on this date. I want you to know that, okay? I asked you because I think you're smart and funny and interesting and I just feel comfortable around you."

You swallowed hard, but this time because his words moved you in a way that was making your throat dry.

"Thank you, Harry," you whispered, slightly moving closer to him. "I don't think of you that way. I guess I was just panicking because I thought that you might feel like I'm pushing you away. Which is the opposite of what I want. I felt like I wasn't giving enough and like I was risking it all by telling you that it was going too quickly for me. Because I thought maybe it's not going fast enough for you. But I feel comfortable around you too and I wanna get to know you better. I wanna know all about you and – and just see where this is going. Because I'm optimistic about this."

You smiled and Harry returned the most sincere and gentle smile you had ever seen. It was the kind of smile that you wished you were the first person in his life to receive.

"Is that okay?" he then said, draping an arm around your shoulders and caressing your skin.

"Yes," you replied and even slightly crouched against him until your head was resting on his shoulder.

"Good. Do you wanna drink something, by the way? Sorry, I'm a really bad host today."

You chuckled, eyes closed and your face gleaming with sheer satisfaction and peace with the moment.

"It's alright. I'm good. I would just like to stay like that for a while," you grinned, unaware of Harry's admiring gaze on your profile and perhaps it was for the better, he thought.

He didn't want to deter you with these feelings he had about you.

They were fragile and new, yet to be figured out, but already so intense that he couldn't believe this was basically your second date.

"Okay," he purred, his lips still curled into a grin long after the word had left his mouth.

[er1nne]

unraveling threads

Pairing – coriolanus snow x female!reader Word Count? 1.4k Summary – Modeling for Tigris leads to an unexpectedly tense encounter with her cousin, Coriolanus, that leaves him questioning his composure. Tags: some cute fluff, some indecent exposure, flustered coriolanus AN: Something I wrote in-between classes, something cute & sweet & not too long. lol hope y'all enjoy. again, do not plagarize or copy my work, if you do you're going to hell.

The workshop buzzed with the creative chaos that was Tigris’s signature. Bolts of fabric spilled from their shelves, pooling in soft heaps on the floor. Pinned sketches of daring designs adorned the walls, each one a whisper of ambition and artistry. You stood in the center of it all, perched on the raised wooden platform framed by three mirrors. Today’s project—a delicate long-sleeve blouse with sheer detailing and an intricate open neckline—felt like something out of a dream, shimmering faintly under the warm afternoon light. The soft fabric hugged your frame like a secret meant only for you. You had been friends with Tigris since before she started attending fashion school, and when she asked if you would help her with her projects, it felt natural to say yes. She needed someone to model her work—her doll, her muse—and you couldn’t resist the idea. You’d stepped in to be her muse and “living mannequin,” thrilled to help a friend bring her visions to life. “What girl doesn’t like playing dress-up?” It was fun to see her artistic vision come to life on your body, and even more so to support her as she poured her heart into every stitch. Sometimes, you wondered if she realized how much you truly enjoyed being part of her creative world.

Tigris circled you, her sharp eyes taking in every angle of the unfinished design. “Stay still,” she instructed, her tone clipped but not unkind. Her fingers deftly adjusted the fabric near your collarbone. “The neckline is tricky. If you move too much, the stitching might—” Her words were cut off by a faint but unmistakable rip.

The silence that followed was heavy. You froze, glancing down at the blouse in the mirror. A seam along the neckline had given way, causing the fabric to slip lower on one side, baring more of your chest than you intended. Your breath caught, heat rushing to your cheeks as you instinctively clutched at the torn material to keep it in place.

“Well,” Tigris sighed, straightening and pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I warned you, didn’t I? It’s not a disaster, though. I can fix it.” She stepped back, scanning the damage with a critical eye. “Just stay here. Don’t move, or it’ll get worse. I’ll grab my sewing kit.”

“I didn’t move,” you protested softly, your tone tinged with indignation and humor. Your reflection in the mirror betrayed your flustered amusement, caught somewhere between embarrassment and mischief.

Tigris waved you off with an exasperated flick of her hand, already walking toward the adjoining room. “Of course you didn’t,” she muttered absently as she disappeared.

Left alone, you sighed, holding the torn blouse carefully in place as you studied yourself in the mirror. The design, even in its incomplete state, was stunning. The sheer sleeves were embroidered with delicate golden threads, catching the light like tiny strands of spun sunlight. But now, with the neckline slipping dangerously low, the blouse seemed to transform from ethereal elegance to something daringly seductive. A small smile tugged at your lips. Perhaps the rip wasn’t such a disaster after all.

The sound of the door creaking open behind you pulled you from your thoughts. Assuming it was Tigris, you didn’t bother turning around. “Did you find the—” The words died on your lips as you glanced over your shoulder.

Coriolanus Snow stood in the doorway, his tall frame framed by the soft glow of the hallway light. His usually composed expression was frozen in surprise, his pale blue eyes locked on you. His gaze flickered to the torn neckline of the blouse, lingering for a fraction too long before darting away.

“Coriolanus,” you said, your voice calm despite the sudden tension thickening the air. “I didn’t know you were coming by.”

His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. For someone who always seemed to have a sharp reply or calculated observation, he looked completely undone. “I—I thought Tigris was here,” he stammered at last, his usual smoothness replaced by a rare awkwardness. His hand tightened on the doorknob, his knuckles pale against the polished brass.

“She stepped out,” you explained, adjusting the fabric with deliberate slowness. “The blouse ripped. She went to get her sewing kit.”

His jaw clenched, the muscles working beneath his pale skin as if he were physically willing himself not to look at you again. “I shouldn’t interrupt,” he said stiffly, already stepping back toward the door. His movements were abrupt, almost frantic, as though the very air in the room burned him.

“You’re not interrupting,” you said, tilting your head slightly. A teasing smile danced on your lips, the sight of his flustered expression too tempting to ignore. “Unless you’re afraid of a little torn fabric.”

His eyes flicked to the torn neckline, and for a moment, he forgot himself. The fabric had slipped just enough to bare the soft curve of your chest, still modest but undeniably daring in its exposure. The delicate embroidery and sheer material only added to the effect, catching the warm light and creating a shimmering contrast between what was hidden and what wasn’t. He could he should look away—should step back and give you space—but his gaze lingered a fraction too long, drawn to the elegance of the moment. It wasn’t just the exposure that held his attention; it was the way you stood there, unbothered, one hand carefully holding the fabric in place while the other rested at your side, as if you hadn’t noticed how the blouse now seemed to toe the line between sophistication and seduction. The faint smile on your lips, almost amused, only made the image more arresting. He blinked, realizing too late that his hesitation betrayed him, and he forced his gaze upward, his expression carefully blank.

His cheeks flushed a faint pink, the first crack in his stoic façade. “I’ll come back later,” he muttered, his voice strained. Before you could say anything else, he turned and fled, the door clicking shut behind him.

Later That Day

When Tigris returned minutes later, she found you still standing on the platform, the torn blouse carefully held in place. “This design,” she muttered as she worked to repair the seam, her skilled fingers moving with practiced ease, “is going to be the death of me. But it’ll be worth it when it’s finished.”

You hummed in agreement, though your thoughts were elsewhere. Coriolanus’s reaction played on a loop in your mind, each detail more amusing than the last—the widening of his eyes, the faint flush creeping up his neck, the way he couldn’t seem to get out of the room fast enough. For someone so composed, so calculated, it had been thrilling to see him unravel so completely.

“I didn’t move,” you murmured again, a quiet chuckle escaping your lips. Tigris glanced up briefly, raising an eyebrow at your cryptic remark, but said nothing.

Later, you found Coriolanus in the sitting area near the back of the workshop. He was hunched over a teacup, the porcelain dwarfed by his long fingers. His back was to you, but you could see the tension in his shoulders, the rigid line of his posture. Tigris was already there, leaning casually against the table with an amused smile playing on her lips.

“Something wrong, cousin?” she asked lightly, her tone laced with faux innocence. Coriolanus didn’t look up, his gaze fixed intently on the steaming tea as though it held the answers to all of life’s problems. “No,” he said curtly, his voice clipped and controlled.

Before Tigris could respond, a soft laugh escaped your lips, drawing both their attention. You leaned casually against the doorway, still dressed in the repaired blouse, the shimmer of the fabric catching the light just so. “Thanks for today, Tigris,” you said with a smile, your voice warm and genuine. Then, turning your gaze to Coriolanus, your tone shifted into something softer, lower. “Goodbye, Coriolanus,” you said, the faintest hint of teasing lacing your words.

His breath hitched, his posture stiffening as your words lingered in the air. You slipped out of the room with a playful sway in your step, not bothering to look back. But you didn’t need to. You could feel his gaze burning into your retreating figure.

Once the door shut behind you, Coriolanus let out a heavy sigh, his head falling into his hands. “She’s impossible,” he muttered, his voice muffled but laced with something that sounded suspiciously like defeat.

For the first time, he admitted to himself the truth he’d been avoiding all afternoon: he had a crush on you. And worse, there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Tigris smirked, watching him over the rim of her teacup. “You’ve got it bad,” she teased, but he ignored her, groaning softly as he leaned back in his chair. The memory of you—half

© ER1NNE est. 2024 belonging to @er1nne, do not plagarize or copy

[etheraltides]

Wind whispers ೄྀ࿐

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summarize: after arriving in Outer Banks without his dad, Rafe goes straight back to the only soft constant in his crazy life.

Warning(s): mention of death and drowning. It’s basically just fluff with a hint of angst

A/N: This is just a little something cause I was bored but Let me know if you’d like a full version of with smut, maybe ;) Feedback is always more than welcome!

The night was warm, the soft rustle of leaves outside mingling with the gentle hum of crickets. You lay beside Rafe in the quietness of your room, the moonlight casting a faint glow through the sheer curtains. His body was still trembling slightly from your shared moment, the air between you thick with something deeper than either of you was ready to admit.

You had always kept things light with Rafe. No strings, no commitments. It was easier that way – especially for him, the guy who had always kept his walls up, the one who never let anyone too close. But tonight, something was different, you could feel it.

He was quieter, his eyes distant, lost in a place you couldn’t reach as he stared at your white ceiling. His dad was dead, you had heard someone around the island say. The weight of it was written in every line of his body, and you could feel the heaviness of it sinking into him. He hadn’t said much since he showed up at your door. Just walked in, kissed you, and let it unfold like it always did. Without any pressure.

Now, though, as you ran your fingers through his shaved hair, something twisted deep inside you. A need, more than just physical. You wanted to reach him, wanted to hold him beyond the fleeting moments of passion. The quiet between you thickened, and you felt your heart race, your chest tightening as you tried to find the words. You didn’t want him to think he was alone now.

“I want you,” you said softly, your voice breaking the silence. Rafe’s eyes flicked up to yours, dark and unreadable. You took a breath, your hand sliding down his chest, fingers tracing the lines of his abs, feeling the tension beneath his skin. “I want you with me, on me, in me.” The words slipped out, soft but laced with all the intensity you had kept hidden.

He didn’t say anything at first, just stared at you like he was trying to make sense of what you had just said. His brows furrowed, his breathing a little more uneven. You wondered if you had pushed too far, crossed the unspoken boundary that had always existed between you.

But then he moved. His hand came up to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek in such a careful tender way, almost as if he was scared to hurt you. His gaze softened, something flickering behind the walls he always kept up. “I’m here,” he whispered, his voice rough, almost vulnerable.

Rafe always feared he’d damage you. Taint your softness with his anger, bring chaos to the peace he always felt coming from you. He was feeling selfish tonight.

You leaned into his touch, your lips brushing against his. It wasn’t just lust this time. It was more, something you both had avoided for too long. And now, in the dim light of your bedroom, with the weight of the world pressing down on him, you were both finally ready to admit it – even if neither of you knew exactly how.

His kiss deepened, slow and languid, as if he was savoring every second. His hands traced your skin, but it wasn’t rushed like usual. It was careful, almost as if he was afraid to lose you in the moment. And maybe, for the first time, he was.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Rafe muttered against your lips, his voice tight with something you hadn’t heard from him before—fear. “I feel like I’m drowning. He’s gone. Everyone’s gone.”

You pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around him. “Then let me hold you up,” you whispered. “I’m here, Rafe. I’ve always been here.”

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken feelings, but it was enough. For now, this moment was enough.

He wasn’t alone. He had you.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Please interact with the story. Your reblogs, likes and comments helps me stay motivated. Your support means the world! ^ྀི 🩵

[yawnderu]

>Commission for the lovely @slava-the-stalker! Thank you so much for supporting me with comms for my surgery. TTwTT 💗💗

John stared deep into the mirror, his visage scrunched up in a mix of discomfort and insecurity upon seeing his own reflection. What used to be a normal human face is nothing like the... thing staring back at him, his own hands coming up to caress the rough, scarred skin. While he's glad the bastard who failed all those ghouls is no longer recognizable, part of him feels a growing pit of anxiety boiling up in his stomach, threatening to explode at any moment now, the sound of your gentle humming coming from the bedroom calming him down even if only for a second. 

With one last look of disdain at his own face, he makes his way out of the bathroom, his chest lightly puffed out in fake confidence, not wanting you to sense the inner turmoil in his head. The pure devotion in your eyes makes him hesitate, yet he pushes himself to be closer, lying down next to your body, one of his cold hands running up and down the crevice of your waist. 

“Took you long enough.” The pure mirth in your eyes makes the corners of his lips tilt up into a smile despite himself, fighting the urge to recoil back the moment your hand meets his cheek, the warmth spreading all over his cold skin, bringing a sense of comfort amidst the chaos in his head. 

“Looking this good ain't easy.” That fake confidence will be his demise one day, he knows it, yet the sweet laugh leaving your lips is enough to push the thought to the back of his mind, his eyes closing at the sensation of your thumb caressing his skin with nothing short of worship. He can feel you inching closer, not doing a damn thing to stop you as your lips crash against his, moving at an almost agonizingly slow pace, your breath hot against his face. 

His hand drifts lower and lower as your kiss becomes more heated, cold fingers curling around your supple ass, squeezing it harshly as he pulls you closer to him, all the blood rushing down to his cock the moment your tongue enters his parted lips, wrapping around him without any trace of disgust. Your free hand comes down to his groin, teasingly tracing the outline of his hardening cock with your index before fully cupping it, feeling the vibrations of a groan leaving his lips against your own. 

You can feel him harden beneath your palm, your fingers curling around the outline of his cock as your warm tongue meets his, battling for a dominance that he instantly surrenders, the feeling of his hands groping your ass harder dragging a moan out of your lips, only breaking away from the kiss to lean your forehead against his. 

“I have been having slightly more impure thoughts than usual.” He confesses, his voice barely a whisper as a hint of hesitation dances in his dark eyes. 

“Maybe it's time we... act on those.” His nervous chuckle doesn't go ignored, only making the tenderness in your eyes grow at the slight display of nervousness written all over his face. You've heard his thoughts about your relationship— about how he thinks you don't want to wake up to his mug every morning, and how he would never wish that on anyone he cared for; yet for you, John Hancock is a work of art. Every single intricate pattern on his skin, the way he carries himself, the strong sense of responsibility and morality towards his cause, and the sheer kindness seeping through his entire soul, clear in his very own actions. 

The only response he gets is a soft peck on the lips, your gentle eyes meeting his, serving as a soothing balm for the insecurities that run deep within. He allows his body to relax despite the way his muscles are threatening to tense at the sensation of your fingers unbuttoning his pants, his hand instinctively reaching out to hold yours the moment your fingers touch his zipper. 

“You don't... have to.” He reassures, not wanting you to feel forced to look at his disfigured, ghoul body. 

“I want to.” Your tone is even and firm, your intentions clear as day, yet he only moves his hand away after seeing the way your pupils dilate when looking up at him. John has been alone for what feels like an eternity, the idea of being intimate with someone he loves being such a foreign and mildly scary concept even for the bravest of men. 

He forces his body to relax, laying down on his back as you undo his zipper, a sharp hiss leaving his thin lips the moment your warm hands pull his hard cock out, blown pupils fully admiring every single detail; the thick, darker veins running over his length, to the dark pink bulbous tip, glistening with precum that seems to leak like a broken faucet. A deep groan leaves his lips as your fingers curl around his thick length, moving up and down at such an agonizingly slow pace that he's close to throwing his pride away and begging. 

His lips part, half-lidded eyes staring up at the ceiling as his jaw clenches, feeling the mattress sink with the weight of your knees, parting his legs just enough for your body to fit between them. Your tongue darts out, licking a tantalizing stripe over his sensitive tip, running over his thin slit, the taste of salty precum overwhelming your senses, mixing in with your slimy saliva. His hand goes to the back of your head, cold fingers caressing your scalp rather than pushing you closer, his grip tightening momentarily the moment your warm tongue runs up and down the thickest vein on his shaft. 

“Please, love...” He's not even sure why he's pleading, yet surrendering all control to the person he loves the most brings out an exhilarating feeling he never knew was possible without drugs. You obey, slowly pushing his throbbing cock deeper into your mouth, relaxing your throat just to take him deeper without triggering your gag reflex. The tears dotting your eyelashes only make you look even more charming to him, lightly bucking his hips so you can finish taking all of him, your nose against his trimmed pubic hair, the feeling of his soft, heavy balls against your chin only makes it more enticing, sucking in your cheeks as you start to bob your head up and down, taking in the feeling of his cock sliding down your throat. 

His grip tightens on your hair, inhibitions thrown out the window as he stars to guide your movements, his eyes darkening at the way every single inch of his cock disappears into your needy, willing throat, squelching sounds mixing in with his deep groans, his head thrown back, the way his Adam's apple bobs up and down fully on display for your curious eyes. Your hands squeeze his thighs once you're unable to get air anymore and he immediately helps you pull away, gently wiping the trail of saliva going down the corners of your lips, using the chance to cup your cheek and stare down at you with nothing but pure, undying love. 

“I'd like to try something new tonight.” His face tilts to the side slightly, curiosity clear in his expression, resting his heavy body on his elbows as his dark eyes focus on the way you seductively strip of your clothes, layer after layer coming off to reveal the soft, untainted flesh, so unlike his own— so pure and clean. 

His gaze follows your movements, instinctively fitting his body on top of yours the moment you lay down on your back, one hand supporting his weight, and the other one drifting down your plush thigh, roaming up and down as if it's the first time he feels something so tender, forever enamored with the way your body feels against his no matter how many times you make love. 

His fingers drift down to your sopping cunt, swiftly running over your erect clit for a second before he's back to gathering your slick on his fingers, teasing your entrance before going up, rubbing circles over your clit, the way your back arches and your tits jiggle slightly simply makes his cock throb, lowering his hand to grip it, rubbing himself up and down a few times before guiding his thick tip to your entrance, starting to push in. Your hand on his bicep forces him to halt his movements, shooting you a curious, worried look. 

“Not... not that hole.” It only takes a second for your words to register, amusement clear in his face, yet a speck of doubt manages to always crawl its way into his brain. Do you truly want a bastard like him to defile you? Your legs parting to give him more space, not a single hint of hesitation in the way you move, presenting yourself to him.

Perhaps it's about time John allows himself to be selfish— to take what's being offered to him. His grip tightens on his cock, rubbing the tip up and down your sopping pussy, gathering as much slick as he can around the tip, knowing you're going to be a tight fit. 

“Say the word if y'want me to stop.” Your little nod is all he needs, relaxing your lower body as he applies pressure against your tight, puckered hole, feeling it give in and wrap tightly around the tip of his cock, a small groan leaving his lips at the sensation. He sinks into you slowly and carefully, a loud sigh escaping him the moment he managed to bottom out, yet his eyes never once leave your face, his hand coming up to cup your cheek and caress the tender skin with his thumb, giving you as much time as you need to get used to the foreign sensation. 

“You can move now.” The sweetness of your words makes his lips curl up into a sincere smile, his hips rocking into you slowly, feeling your tight hole grip him like a vice, the warmth surrounding him is almost enough to make him cum, yet he focuses solely on your pleasure, his thin lips coming down to kiss your neck, licking a tantalizing stripe over the sensitive skin just to feel your body shudder at the sensation, your hands coming up to caress his back, pulling his body so close that your heat is spreading all over, touching his very own soul. 

“I love this...” His tongue applies more pressure to your neck as you drag out your words, taking full advantage of the sensitive nerves just to feel your throat vibrating against hips lips with each sweet moan that comes out of your lips, daring to fuck into you deeper and harder now that you're used to his size. 

“I love you.” His hips falter for a second, unable to hide the surprise dancing in his slightly widened eyes at your confession, yet the look of love and trust written all over your face drags away any disbelief he felt, his soul freed even if only for a moment as your face finds shelter on the crook of his neck the moment his thrusts speed up, fucking into your tight ass at an almost unlawful pace, wanting you to feel every single inch of his hard cock, of his love. 

A loud groan escapes his lips the moment he feels your teeth bite into his shoulder, likely trying to muffle your crescendo moans, the stinging sensation making his cock throb, slamming himself as deep as he can into your puckered hole, his body weight keeping you pressed down as ropes of thick, hot cum shoot deep into you, painting your tight walls white. His heavy body rests on top of yours, too exhausted to move out of the way yet, the sensation of being lightly crushed oddly pleasant. 

“I love you too. More than anything, more than anyone...” He whispers into your ear, slowly pulling out of you, his dark eyes taking a few seconds to admire his work of art— your gaping hole leaking with his hot, white cum, a thin layer of sweat covering your exhausted, fucked-out body. He lays down next to you, his arms wrapping around your waist just to bring you closer, planting a gentle kiss on top of your forehead. 

His eyes drift down to the red teeth marks on his shoulder, letting out a small chuckle at the idea of having a future bruise as a reminder of your night together.

[onceuponastory]

nothing - bucky barnes x reader

In all this mayhem, you've made me feel again But some of me won't be saved - spell it out by you me at six

Plot: As the Void grips New York, Y/N saves a civilian in need...only to be saved herself by the one person she wasn't expecting. Pairing: Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of death, a near death experience, thinking you're going to die. Also mentions of mild injuries and bruising, crowd panic and surges. If I miss any triggers, please let me know! Notes: When I tell you I've had this fic in mind since I saw the first teaser trailer for Thunderbolts* and I'm just now getting round to finishing it.... LMAO. My first fic in a LONG TIME. I hope you love it <3

Y/N had never given much thought to how she’d die. How it would happen, when it would happen, or even what’s on the other side. However, she certainly didn't expect it to happen at this precise moment. 

The day had started off like any other, with her usual routine of working from home in her apartment, then heading to her local coffee shop for a mid morning treat. Instead, as soon as she stepped outside, she found herself in a nightmare. People run in every direction, full of panic, screaming and crying. “What the hell is going on?” She asks no one in particular. But she soon gets her answer. The building opposite her crumbles around them, sending dust and debris everywhere, narrowly avoiding hitting her. It’s chaos. The crowd surges, people pushing and shoving past her as they desperately flee and escape the danger. She looks around, terrified, looking for something or someone to explain what the hell is causing this. But nothing comes. For a second, she goes to join them, stumbling wildly through the streets, dodging debris and other bodies. And then….

“Help! Someone help!” The desperate plea brings her to a stop, and she follows the voice, seeing a sight that chills her blood. A woman lays trapped in the middle of the road, and an out-of-control van hurtles towards her.

Y/N’s adrenaline kicks in immediately, and without a second thought, she rushes over, helping the woman to her feet. “You’re okay. You’re safe, don’t worry. I’ve got you.” She gasps, pulling her up and passing her off to the side.

But then, the horrible realisation hits her. Like being doused in a bucket of cold water, the dread seeps through her.

Who’s going to help her?

The van is close now, tires screeching as it barrels down on her. There’s nothing she can do. Even if she tries to jump, it’ll hit her, regardless. She just stands there, paralysed with fear, her heart pounding against her ribcage as all the noise and panic around her fades into nothing. And Y/N slowly comes to terms with her fate.

It’s not like it is in the movies, with a flashback of your entire life until now. Or with regrets of all the things you left unsaid, or didn’t do.

Instead, there’s just…nothing. And that scares her most of all.

As she braces herself for impact, tears streaming down her cheeks, a blurred figure passes in front of her. Then a metallic thud breaks through the silence, one that reverberates through her body. A whoosh of air passes over her, the sheer force of it knocking her to the ground. When she next opens her eyes, she’s laying on the ground. She tries to sit up, groaning in pain as she registers gravel and debris cutting into her bare skin. Her vision is blurry, her head pounds and her limbs are heavy, but she’s…alive?

As she looks around, her eyes trying to focus on her bearings, a black and gold glint of metal reaches out to her through the haze.

Is that…an arm?

“You alright?” A voice asks. And then a face appears, worry etched on his features.

“Bucky Barnes?” She gasps in disbelief, her eyes widening. “A-Am I fucking dreaming? Is this heaven?” He chuckles in response, but thankfully not one to mock her. The sound is warm, gentle, bringing a sense of peace and safety after whatever the hell just happened to her.

“Nah. Thankfully, you’re still breathing. I pulled you out of the way, and the impact must’ve knocked you over,” he explains, relief filling her body. “I got the van out of the way, so-” She’s shocked by the calmness in his voice, a stark contrast to the gravity of what he did. He talks about it like it’s as simple as making the bed, not stopping an over hundred tonne vehicle barrelling towards her with just his arm, not saving her life. Her heart pounds, and she stares up at him, eyes wide with shock and gratitude.

She’s seen Bucky on TV, of course. So has most of the country. Whether it’s showing him saving the world by fighting alongside two Captain Americas, or by running for Congress, the small screen loves James Buchanan Barnes.

Or maybe that’s just her constantly having his interviews on repeat, his voice playing on a loop through her apartment. But who could blame her for falling for him? With his captivating charm, his warm smile, his kind eyes, and how he always stands up for the little guy, the downtrodden? And now, he’s standing beside her, his hair tousled, his clothes dirty and torn after saving her life. He’s somehow even more attractive in real life than he is on TV. And that was a remarkably high bar, all things considered.

“You saved me…you’re a real hero.” she murmurs, still in awe and still convinced she’s dreaming. “Like some knight in shining armour in a storybook shit. Sir Barnes.” She chuckles, gazing dreamily up at him as he kneels beside her to see if she’s alright. Bucky raises a brow, confusion filling his gaze.

“Did you hit your head or something?”

“Maybe a little, but I swear I’m telling you the truth!” She responds, her voice raised. “Okay, maybe I’m a bit of a nerd, but you saved my by punching a fucking van out of my path and expect me not to call you a hero?” Bucky sighs, running a hand through his hair as he begins checking her over. His fingers lightly and gently run over her skin, and she shivers slightly as the cool metal brushes against her.

“People haven’t called me a hero in a long time,” he admits with a self-deprecating chuckle. “And definitely not a knight.” Her heart sinks, and she shakes her head. 

“Well, in my eyes, what happened to you was never your fault.” she says, giving his hand a small squeeze without even thinking about it. “And…you are a hero to me.” she insists. And then, he smiles at her. Really smiles at her. A big, genuine smile that goes right to his eyes and makes her go all weak at the knees and creates a warmth blooming in her chest, like the sweetest moment in a romance movie that makes you squeal from cuteness as you watch it. Y/N thought moments like this never happened to her.

But laying here, in the middle of the street, being checked over by James Buchanan Barnes himself...Y/N realised maybe her life is more like a movie than she thought.

“Thanks, my fair maiden.” he chuckles, his eyes twinkling, which sends her swooning all over again. “And your name is?”

“Oh, Y/N.”

“Y/N.” He nods, sending another smile her way.

As Bucky continues to check her over, Y/N finds herself extremely glad she had the foresight to wear something she feels cute in today. And oh god, she could’ve died. Why is she thinking about how incredibly attractive her rescuer is, his dazzling smile, and the way he looks at her? Even though she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t hoping Bucky would want to see her after this.

To check she’s healing well, of course...definitely for no other reason.... But the thought of seeing Bucky again makes her smile.

Y/N nervously chatters about herself and Bucky, hoping to distract him from her obvious, romantic gaze, and to distract herself from thinking about him too much. Everything from her own life and her job to Bucky’s work as an Avenger and in Congress.

“You’re a very talkative patient.” Bucky remarks as he looks at a developing bruise on her leg.

“How many patients have you had?” She raises a brow.

“...Just you,” he chuckles, a low rumble in his chest that still sends shivers down her spine.

“Sorry if I’m annoying you.” She stammers. “It’s just with all this scary shit going on, I wanted to change the subject, and it’s not every day a real life superhero-”

“Y/N. "It's fine," he insists gently, his hand resting reassuringly on her arm. “I don’t mind. I enjoy getting to know you.” Heat spreads across her cheeks, and she grins. “You’ll be fine. You’re just bruised.” Bucky nods. To be honest, she’s not sure she takes much, or any, of his words in. The realisation that he genuinely likes her, even her rambling, leaves her breathless and slightly dazed. “How do you feel? Any pain?”

“I think I’m still in shock.” She murmurs.

“That's to be expected. I’d still go to the hospital and get checked out.” Bucky nods, helping her to her feet.

“Thank you so much for everything. You really-” But then, she notices him staring behind her, up in the sky.

“What the hell?”

She turns. A figure cloaked in all black hangs in the air, a stark, ominous presence against the skyline. His dark cape billows dramatically behind him as he tilts his head, as if noticing her presence. “Who the-”

“Y/N! Look out!”

The figure raises his hand, pointing right at her.

And then…nothing.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

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[bluey0petal]

𝐢 | 𝐎𝐍𝐄

— CW ; blood, decapitation, violence, 3rd POV.

— Synopsis ; On the isle of Berk, chaos unfolds as yet another raid throws the village into shambles. Whilst fire burns away at wood and smoke clouds the air, a boy happens to commit an act nobody thought was possible. His only witness ; a girl who is just as confused as he is.

— Word count ; 7243

Masterlist | 𝐢𝐢 | 𝐓𝐖𝐎 — ᚨᚠᛊᛟᚲᚢᚾ

ᛟᛚᛁᚲᚱ

A horn blew, loud and obnoxious as the thunderous buzz trembled through the wood making up the huts of the village. It seemed as if the floor had actually moved with the booming noise, but it hadn't— and everything was still in place where it had been left inside the hut.

A girl whom had been fast asleep in her bed, wrapped in furs and tucked underneath the cozy embrace of linen blankets shot up abruptly from the rude awakening, the sound bringing one familiar meaning back.

She sprang out of bed, ignoring the chill haunting the midst of the night and the sheer stab that pricked her skin once the cool air lingering around nipped at her skin. It was cold, the winters grasp being ruthless and unforgiving this time of year— but that didn't stop her from blinking awake in a panic.

Footsteps from the loft above in her home stamped their way around, two bulky figures rushing down the steps and hulking axes in their hands, her eyes snapping to the two, illuminated in the orange warmth of the torches that flickered inside, her parents.

"Is it another raid?" She asked, receiving a small nod from her father, confirming her suspicions. The man was muscular, but it a beefy and square way— his hair chopped and a dark black tint that hid the dirt and grime mixed into the follicles. Her mother, whom was getting ready next to the man muscular as well, slightly less hulking than her father, but still strong nonetheless. Her mother's hair was brown, braided into strands and tied back out of her face for practical reasons.

Being woken up by the horn wasn't uncommon, but that didn't mean it was any less unusual and off-putting than any other time the deafening boom would awaken the village.

"Aye, gotta get goin' hun, there's work to do," he gruffly informed her, pulling on shiny metal shoulder guards with patterns engraved in the iron, heaving them onto his shoulders and letting them sit easily on the bone.

The girl grumbled, turning away to her own business as she grabbed her thick leather fur topped boots that sat by the end of her basic wooden bed. They were hefty, made to keep her feet warm in the blizzards that terrorised the island, and they did the job fortunately enough.

Raids were common, every other day or so— and frankly, they were starting to get annoying. The pests outside just couldn't seem to let the village be, waking them up in the middle of the night or keeping them up until morning, causing the village to spend the rest of the days replenishing what had been lost.

It was a hard lifestyle, rigorous and demanding, but it was one she'd grown up in, and that had built her resilience to the constant broken sleep and lack thereof. The woman and man rushed out the hut, already dressed seeing as they'd been prepared much more than her, and they charged out hurriedly to the blaze peering in from outside.

War cries were already audible, the sounds of screams and yelled orders breaking way into her ears as she shuffled her final boot on, stumbling up and rushing towards the exit.

She shoved her way out of the hut, barging past the wooden door and stepping out into the contrasting blazes of temperature that filled the paths between every house.

Smoke billowed in the distance, fires already beginning to spark and the cries of sheep bleating as they were carried off striking urgency within herself. The flashing changed in temperature piled sweat on her skin, the glossy coat of grimy secretions somehow formulating in the cold of the early morning.

Vikings ran all around, chaos creating a frenzy of buzzing people who chased after winged beasts, some throwing bolas while others heaved nets over the tops of the scaled creatures.

Roars erupted from teethed maws, lined with serrated and sharp bones that could rip an arm right off of need be, and usually they did just that. Her feet thudded against the ground, leather meeting frozen and slightly slippery soil as she ran, dodging and weaving past running figures and the occasional fire blast that may singe her if she got too close.

As she ran through the familiar streets, one job on her mind— a figure bumped into her, a rather tall but overweight boy stumbling back as the water he held within a bucket sloshed around, some spilling out the sides.

"Oh— sorry (Name)!" He apologised, shaking his head apologetically, and the girl waved him off, turning her attention to the boy her age, one whom she was lucky to have run into right about now.

"Fishlegs, are there any jobs?" (Name) questioned the nervous blonde boy, looking up to him as he shifted on his feet restlessly, eyes darting around with paranoia that they may very well be shot at by some wayward spines.

"Uh— Hoark's house is on fire... but Astrid is dealing with that. Maybe check with Snotlout, he's over at the water trough—" the boy stuttered out nervously, informing her of the current situation and she nodded in acceptance.

"Right, thanks— see ya soon!" She bid him farewell, the two heading opposite directions as she ran towards the town square, while Fishlegs ran over to a house nearby that had been lit up by the licking flames produce by the sky beasts.

She was bumped a few times as she ran, shoulders nodding against others, but she did her best to weave her way carefully through the streets as she reached the town square, eyes scanning for the short and stocky figure of Snotlout.

Like Fishlegs had said, her eyes latched onto the dark haired boy scooping water out of a trough where the emergency eatery was stationed, multiple buckets filled to the brim already lined up and ready to go for those darting back and forth between alight houses.

"Snotlout, hey!" She called out to the boy, grabbing his attention as he placed the last of the buckets down, some water spilling over the sides and dampening the wood— but in the end it mostly stayed within the confines of its container.

"(Name), hey! Were you looking for me? I know you were—" he smugly snorted, already rolling a terribly strange contortion of his facial features in what was a soggy attempt at flirting with the girl as she came towards him.

"Not the time Snotlout. Are there any jobs?"she ushered him along with urgency lacing her tone, the anxiety dripping from her words and the boy reluctantly drew himself back to the ruckus going on in the moment.

"Uh... I think Ingrid's house was on fire—" he murmured blankly, trying to use the only two brain cells left within his head to form a sentence, but he was interrupted by a strong explosion, both of the teens whipping around to see a house had been turned to flames when a stray blast had hit the building.

"Well, there's one. Get the buckets!" She snapped, grabbing her own pale, the weight in her hands feeling heavy, but not to the point where it weakened her. Behind her, Snotlout followed along with his own buckets of water, the two teens apart of the fire squad rushing over to the burning building before it could get too bad.

They splashed water over the flames, dimming the fire and dampening the wood just in time for only a few charred scorch marks to be left as a stain, though that could easily be fixed in later repairs.

"That was hot babe, wanna come by to train sometime?" Snotlout nudged (Name) with his elbow now that the fire was out, and she looked over to the cocky boy, a smug grin stretching across his face as he winked, wiggling his unkempt eyebrows.

"I'll get Astrid to hit you," she deadpanned, refusing to show any sign of being moved or flustered by the bold statement the boy her age had made. "Oh come on! One chance?" He pleaded, groaning in annoyance at the constant denials from every girl he had flirted with.

Snotlout wasn't what you'd call a 'ladies man'... he was— more so a woman repellent, as one of other the kids your age had put it one time, leaving the boy to be wallowing in his own embarrassment during dinner that time in the great hall.

It wasn't uncommon for Snotlout to flirt. He did it with any girl he deemed hot enough, so (Name) and the other girls had grown used to the constant flattery that somehow managed to turn into offensive comments on the regular.

Out of the corner of her eye, (Name) spotted familiar figures running back to the trough, and she sent one last glance to the boy before speeding off. "No, now let's regroup," she hummed, running over to the four teens gathered by the trough, Snotlout running after her as the duo joined their peers carrying empty buckets.

"Guys! How's things going?" (Name) called out to the group, causing them to look up at her and Snotlout, the duo drawing their attention. "Decent, only three houses have been lit up and we've all put them out," Astrid, a blonde haired, tall and skinny— yet slightly muscular girl explained.

"Personally, I would've let them burn..." a lanky blonde boy grumbled, the young man standing next to a girl who looked almost identical to him. "Yeah, I'm with you there bro," the twin of his snorted, her own long blonde hair tied into messy bubble braids that were rather matted and untimely, though everyone had just woken up— so it wasn't out of place.

"Shut it you two, we've got more work to do," Astrid glared at the disastrous duo, using her bucket to scoop more water as she nodded her head towards another house that had been lit up, the flames burning brightly and towering heavily over the rest.

It was out of control— they'd need a good six buckets at the least to put it out... that wasn't good. They had to stop it before it grew too large and possibly jumped to the other houses nearby.

"On it," (Name) nodded, taking her own pale and scooping up water, the rest of the group following after her moves seeing as the fire roaring in the distance was incredibly large, and would probably need all hands on deck to be extinguished.

They quickly refilled their buckets, water lulling against the brim of the edges as each of the teens rushed towards the house, the full squadron of the fire brigade working at once, which wasn't a rare occasion.

First Fishlegs threw his bucket on the fire, dampening the wood, but it wasn't enough to end the roaring embers— and that made the twins run up at the same time, rushing to the sight that was probably a work of art to the two.

They threw their own buckets at the same time; as they always did... apparently some 'twintuition' they'd been ranting on about lately, explaining how both of them thought everything the same, which nobody believed except for the ever gullible kids of the tribe.

Even after three buckets, the fire was still going strong, Snotlout coming up to throw his bucket high and extinguish a good part of the fire, leaving only a small amount of the building in flames.

Astrid rushed up behind him, the blonde lass throwing her bucket onto the house, the water dousing a large amount of what was left— but I wasn't quite enough just yet.

(Name) ran up quickly behind her, throwing her bucket on the last bit of fire and successfully extinguishing the fire that had once soared as high as the sky. Though, that was the reason they were there. While the big Vikings killed dragons and let heads roll about, they put out the fires and tried to stop as much collateral damage from happening as possible.

She turned away, running back to the group who'd walked back to the troughs, but right as she turned on her heel, another stray fire ball hit the house they'd just doused, exploding the wooden shelter to smithereens.

She snapped back around to look at the now burning wreckage, grumbling underneath her breath before rushing back over to the group by the water trough. "What glorious work..." one of the twins smiled, his eyes dreamy and lingering on the ruins that were once a hut, only to be jabbed in the side by Astrid.

"That was Gunnar's home Tuffnut. If you want to watch something explode, go explode a dragon," she chided the boy for his admiration of chaos, ending with Tuffnut rolling his eyes at her.

"You're not my mum..." he grumbled, with his sister stepping up to join his retort. "Yeah, our mum's cool," she spat, and Astrid held back from socking the duo in the face, instead glancing at a Viking who'd run up to the group.

He was exhausted, the helmet on his head dented and his beard slightly singed with some of the brown hairs having turned black. "Down the lower bank— three fires," he wheezed, and Astrid looked back to the group, nodding a silent command as they all wordlessly began to fill their buckets back up, the supply draining unfortunately quickly for what they all needed.

The bunch of teens all ran off, running past the forge and ignoring the rather stick like boy peering excitedly out the window, only for his small frame to be dragged back in.

The teens split into three groups, with Astrid and Ruffnut taking the middle towards a burning house, Snotlout and Tuffnut running towards the left, a line of fencing having been destroyed by a blaze that needed to be extinguished, and (Name) and Fishlegs running to the right where yet another house was just barely beginning to go up in flames.

The teens passed by multiple Vikings with weapons in the air, maces and and axes flying about as they avoided the teeth of dragons that threatened to snap them up, focusing on their job of putting out fires rather than how they were nearly being eaten.

(Name) and Fishlegs quickly doused their own fire, throwing their contents of water on the vastly small fire and leaving a house with only a few rather obvious scorch marks on the wood.

"T'ank's lads!!" A voice thanked them from somewhere, and (Name) nodded on instinct, gesturing back to wherever the unknown voice had come from.

Both her and Fishlegs had a coat of thick sweat dousing their faces, only the soothing air of the frosty morning being there to blow a soft wind that dried the sheen, cooling them both down. "Let's go back," she suggested, turning to the larger lad who was more than eager to return to where he had safety in numbers with the others.

They both flipped around, turning to rush back through streets where the food supply was unfortunately getting lower. They ran past, and as they did so— (Name) had to skid to a stop when the dead body of a dragon rolled to a close right in front of her, the limp form of a Nadder dropping right in front of her.

"ARGGHH!!" The Viking whom had knocked the dragon flat on its face called, rushing up with an axe and not failing to hurl the weapon down on the neck with a thunk, splitting the head from the body and splattering a spray of red on the unlucky girl who'd been standing near the corpse.

The man noticed the girl once he successfully decapitated the dragon's body, turning back to the girl with an apologetic smile. "S'rry (Name), lass," his gruff voice called, and she winced at the feeling of the warm blood burning on her skin, face scrunched uncomfortably.

"It's— it's alright..." she mumbled, side stepping around the two to catch up to Fishlegs who'd seen the unlucky event. "Are you okay...?" The boy asked nervously, blinking at the warm spray on her face, and she nodded, walking past him to continue the trek back up hill.

They ran back up through the villages, tumbling through the streets of fighting as they arrived back at the town square, where the others had already finished their previous jobs and made it back before them. Their peers turned to them, noticing the array of red littering the unlucky girls face as she looked rather annoyed upon spotting some had gotten stuck to her hair.

"Woah, what happened to you?" Tuffnut blinked, questioning the obvious with a dumbfounded expression on his face, the boys eyes scrunching as he scrutinised her.

"I think you look amazing (Name)—" Snotlout once more, tried to turn this into a flirting session, as he always did. "I mean, red looks really good on you! You look like a Viking," He continued, nodding to the untimely liquid spray across your upper half, and the twins snickered off to the side at his accidental mockery.

"Dragon happened," she grumbled, slipping past them and going to dunk her bucket in the trough, only to find it empty. "It's empty, we'll have to use the wells," Astrid informed the other girl from where she stood, the others already having found the lack of water.

"I can see that—" she huffed, opening her mouth to continue as a loud shriek ripped through the air. It was bone chilling, blood curdling and sent goosebumps rising on the groups arms the moment they registered just what the sound was.

"NIGHT FURY!"

"GET DOWN!"

Everyone ducked, some using shields to cover their heads, and some trying to hide behind whatever they could find as the noise grew louder, before being ended in a large purple explosion, shattering a catapult off in the distance. It crumpled the structure like it was nothing, turning a heavily supported wooden catapult to flames in mere seconds, and with only once shot.

It was sudden, the collapse immediate— and once it seemed the coast was clear everyone returned to stand, the ruckus beginning almost instantaneously. "Great, that thing is back..." Snotlout groaned, gesturing to the skies as another shriek seared through the air, only to again erupt in an explosion of smoke and fire, yet another catapult being ultimately destroyed.

"What beauty..!" Ruffnut gasped, looking off towards the southern point of the island where the catapults fell from the jaded edges of land into the rocky expanse of the sea, a painful trade off. "I don't think we'll be able to put that out..." Fishlegs gulped, staring at the far off blaze that began to slowly spread to the grass fields.

"We have to try," (Name) stated, grabbing her bucket and rushing away, starting up the others too as they all ran through the village, through the winding paths and finding the well that was often used— the villages main source of water.

A bucket was already hooked to the sturdy twist of rope that stretched deep into the pit, and luckily, the raging villagers around steered clear of the well as best as they could once the fire squad pulled up, running to the circular mechanism built upon bricks.

The group ran over to the well, Astrid having approached the winch that held up the bucket, and slowly began to lower the pale down into the void, the depths echoing nothing but small dribbles of water that were drowned out with the roars and yells over top.

The group of teens stood anxiously around the well, a rushing edge of nervousness that begged Astrid to pull up the bucket faster. The well wasn't exactly a reliable source of water when it came to emergency supplies or fire extinguishing, but it's all they had at the moment— and so they had to be as patient as possible.

(Name) bit the inside of her cheek nervously, staring at the rope that faded into nothing, before drawing her attention out to the sporadic noises surrounding her. It was absolute hel— from what she could see atleast. A flock of Nadders were trapped under a net, having been squawking and squirming at a group of sheep that were cowering from the dragons in fear. A pair of Zipplebacks snagged an arm right from a man's body, his cries becoming the loudest things there— and (Name) looked away to avoid the spray of red that was so similar to the one staining her face.

The loss of lives or limbs wasn't uncommon, but Odin did everyone wish it was. There were always gruesome sights during the raids. Heads rolling from shoulders, bones twisted uncomfortably or someone spewing their guts after being socked too hard in the gut. The Viking life wasn't pretty, but it was all they had.

As her eyes continued to travel around, they found their way to a hill, not illuminated by the torches that were found hanging off of buildings— or the ones that had been raised to draw the dragons attention. Instead, it lay away from the chaos, grass untouched and a lonely figure standing atop the edge, watching out for something with a strange mechanism sitting in front of them.

"Wait— is that...?" She narrowed her eyes, murmuring to herself as the silhouette became one that she knew. A boy who wasn't meant to be outside. "Guys— give me a minute," (Name) excused herself quickly, dashing past a line of Vikings awaiting their mended tools at an empty forge, and passing the open building on the trail to the hill behind it.

"Hiccup! What are you doing!?" She called out to the small boy, but he didn't pay attention to her, instead staring out at the sky with a determination that could only be found in his sage tinted irises. She huffed at his ignorant behaviour, pounding her way up the hill and coming to stand behind him.

"Aren't you meant to be inside?" She hissed, trying to draw his attention, but he stayed focused as he watched the dim sky, his eyes darting around the star dotted sky. "Uh... hello— am I not here?" She snapped her fingers near his ear, causing him to flinch and whip around to look at her.

"Not now— just... give me a minute!" He yelped, turning back to the sky and staring out at it. "If you're trying to shoot down 'another' dragon... I'd think again," she sarcastically told him, rolling her eyes as he seemed adamant on staying atop the hill.

Hiccup was a short boy, a runt, if you will. He was small both in height and width, muscle not really plaguing the boy like it did her or the other Vikings in the village.

She watched him closely, arms crossing over her chest and her eyes watching him with a gaze as piercing as a hawk, not letting even a twitch escape her watchful eye. The mountain hill was colder than down in the village, probably because the hill was away from the fires and screaming,

The air began to scream, chilling and high pitched just like the last ones— and Hiccup adjusted his stance to scan the sky for the source. (Name's) own hairs began to stand on end, her eyes aimlessly searching the night sky for the dragon nobodies ever seen— bit it was useless in the end as the figure remained hidden, even as another last of purple exploded the second last catapult.

The blast jolted her, even if it hadn't hit her— and if she had jumped any harder, she might've missed how Hiccup had unleashed a flying bola with the machine he had, the sound of it twirling through their air whipping until it wasn't heard anymore.

Nothing happened for a moment, and (Name) almost expected some sort of destruction to automatically ensue, but instead, a loud shriek of pain tore through the sky, reaching both of their ears and confirming the results.

"It— it worked!" Hiccup cheered, stepping back from the catapult like item in-front of him, and whirling back around to face the girl who had also witnessed the moment he had actually shot down a dragon. He had done it. He had actually gotten one of his crazy ideas to work without destroying several houses. Had the gods blessed them?

"Did you see that!? I shot down the Night Fury!" He beamed, his eyes wide with pride and wonder as he gripped the girls shoulders, his grasp surprisingly firm for someone with so little strength. "Yeah... I— I did..." she nodded, still staring at the sky, the place the dragon had once inhabited it self.

It seemed impossible, the fact that Hiccup the 'Useless' had somehow shot down the dragon nobody has ever seen— the Night Fury.

As he kept a grip of (Name's) shoulders, a darkened creature crawled up from the cliff side, talons shredding the grass as it gripped the cliff side, pulling itself up to reveal its position.

A low growl reverberated through the air, crisp and guttural as it drew both of the teens attentions, with Hiccup turning to look over at what ever had scuttled its way up the side of the jutted out hill.

A Monstrous Nightmare, yellow eyes piercing and red scales gleaming as it stared at the two, pulling itself up fully and crushing the mechanism Hiccup had brought along with him as it stood before them both, teeth bared.

"Uh oh..."

"RUN!" (Name) shouted, pushing the boy in front of her to give the small lad a head start, both of them beginning to speed down the hill as the large dragon gave chase. It nipped at them, narrowly missing them both as Hiccup let out what appeared to be one of the loudest screams (Name) had ever heard.

"Go— go go go!" (Name) pushed the boy forward, the two running past the forge into the clearing where one of the torches stood high up, protruding from the ground. (Name) sprinted to the left, hoping to attract the dragons attention, but it took the easier prey and followed Hiccup as he darted towards the large post, hiding himself behind it.

His breaths were ragged, pulling himself tightly together to hide behind the mast, and scrunching his eyes shut as fire spewed from the other side, burning down the other half and charring the wood.

The boy stood frozen in fear, gathering himself pathetically while peering around the side once the onslaught of fire had stopped. As he turned, he only saw flames licking up the side of the post, the heat sizzling against his skin from the proximity.

(Name) had stopped once she noticed the dragon hadn't followed her; whirring around to spot the dragon creeping up on Hiccup from the other side, where the boy was blissfully unaware of the teeth that waited to snatch him up.

"Hiccup!" She yelled, drawing his attention as she began to run towards him, hoping to make it in time. Yet she wasn't able to— a large hand grabbed her shoulder, shoving her backwards. "Stay back!" A voice boomed, the hulking figure of a large man sprinted past her towards the scene.

He was vast in size, a deep green kilt swaying down to his ankles that was overlayed by a torn dragon scale skirt and a rather sizeable belt that wrapped around his waist. His hair was a burning orange, like the flames around him, and the thick beard that sprouted from his chin was plaited into multiple different sections, the thick amount of hair needing to be contained by the twists of the style.

His furred cape swayed as he pounced on the dragon creeping up on Hiccup, two heavy armoured shoulder guards keeping his large fur cape attached and in place as he roughly handled the scaled beast.

It growled as he jumped on it, snapping at the large man. The man rolled back, dodging the jaws that aimed for him viciously, barely avoiding the curved and serrated fangs that poked towards him.

The Nightmare reeled back, its eyes narrowed down and pupils squashed into thin skits that locked onto the man in front of it. Crackling sounded from the beast, a subtle glow of building flame lighting in its throat— before being spewed out towards the man, but the flames only became a few embers that fell like liquid drops of magma from the mouth of the dragon.

The dragon croaked, staring at the barely visible amount of fire that had left it, before looking back to the eager Viking before it. The man adjusted his helmet, sitting it back straight on his head— before rolling his shoulder to adjust the joint.

"You're all out..." the red headed man grinned, charging his way over to the dragon, his fists clenched tightly into balls. Punches were thrown one after the other, each hit connecting painfully with the jaw of the dragon— leaving a sickening crack coming from it each time.

The dragon yelped in pain, its head flicking to the side every time it was forcefully snapped to look away by the mighty fist of the burly Viking it fought against. (Name) watched on in shock, seeing how easily the man slammed his fists into the face of the dragon, spilling red blood from the weakened teeth that seemed to wobble unnaturally in the mouth.

The dragon jumped back before another punch was thrown into its face, its wings spreading open and lifting itself into the air with one powerful slap. Its head shook, disoriented and confused after so many hits head on— and it flew away into the skies that began to gradually grow lighter with the first light of dawn.

The cries around seemed to die down as the dragons retreated into the sky, dozens upon dozens of scaled beasts lifting themselves into the air and taking whatever they could with them as they sped away. She bleated in panic, held in claws— and some dead fish fell through talons that grasped multiple in one large handful.

Soft footsteps began to fill the area, the Vikings whom had been fighting now gathering in the spot where the three had once stood alone, all staring into the middle of the area.

The red haired man turned to look at the torch post, the large trunk charred and still burning as it began to crack, the post gradually growing weaker. It creaked further, tilting to the side dangerously before it gave way under the pressure of whatever was left, falling over and toppling its way down into the village.

It crashed into walkways, the burning flames flickering against grass and rolling down the slope the village was built upon. It crashed into a trio of netted Nadders, burning away the net and letting them free with sheep they managed to grasp last minute, flying off high into the air with the now dissipating flock of beasts.

The large and broken torch finally rolled off the end of the island, falling off the cliff side and toppling down into the waters of the salty ocean below, the sound of it hitting the water hard the only confirmation it had actually fallen.

" 'at's not gud..." a viking to the side murmured, staring off at the path of destruction before everyone turned back to Hiccup, looking to where the small boy was standing, his shoulders hunched and lips pressed thinly into an awkward line.

"Sorry... dad," Hiccup winced, looking to the floor as all the attention was on the boy who'd apparently 'caused' this mess, the boy who should never step outside.

"Okay but I hit a Night Fury—" he suddenly blurted out, his words almost intelligible as he practically spat the syllables, only to be grasped by the scruff of his green tunic and lifted easily into the air by the ginger haired man— who was also his father.

"It's not like the last time dad! I mean I really, actually hit it—!" He cried, being dragged off through the crowds against his will, the sight plaguing those around with second hand embarrassment. "I saw it! It went off the coast, near Raven Point! Let's get a search party out there and—" hiccup stuttered, trying to explain the situation to his already brooding father.

The man stopped in place, dropping his son and whirling around to face the small boy. "STOP! Just— stop. Can't you stay still for one minute? Every time you step outside— disaster follows!" He bellowed, his hands twitching with obvious anger as everyone around had to bear witness to the unforgiving scene between the family members.

"But I did— (Name) saw it!" He cried, gesturing to where the girl stood in the crowd, and suddenly whispers arose, the attention turning to the lass awkwardly and sporadically out on the spot.

The eyes roved her, hungry for answers and nagging at her form for confirmation about the boys claims. "Well lass?" A Viking chirped, encouraging her to give an answer, coaxing the words from her lips that they all expected to hear. 'He's lying' was what everyone expected, and it was only natural seeing as Hiccup had lied multiple times about shooting down an actual dragon before.

She shifted uncomfortably on the spot, her eyes scanning the crowd before they connected with Hiccup's, and his expression was pitiful. His eyes were wide with hope, begging for her to stand up and say something for him— to defend him from the villagers that bellowed their disappointment at him.

"I mean— it's hard to say... he hit— something! But I didn't really see.." she mumbled nervously, unsure of what to truly say once she was pushed into the centre of attention so roughly. "See, even te lass don't know! Tha' boys lying," someone from the crowd called out, and she panicked to correct herself— but she wasn't able to before a whole storm of agreement sprung from the crowd.

The feasting eyes turned back to Hiccup, her own included as his face dropped with betrayal, but he couldn't exactly say he was expecting anything else to happen, really. His father turned back to him, gaze narrowed and frustrated, in his eyes, it was just another lie the boy had blurted out to save himself.

"Gods... can't you see that I have bigger problems than your antics—?! Winter is a few days away, and I have an entire village to feed!" He barked, gesturing to the crowd, who was in fact hungry after the early morning raid that had pulled them from their beds far too early for normal, their bellies awakening with hunger at the same time.

(Name) frowned at the scene, guilt tugging at her as something within her conscience was struck by the scene. She had seen him hit something out of the sky, a dragon at the least— a Night Fury at the most. But if he was claimed to be lying when even she saw it, how many other times had his accomplishments been over looked by the Vikings hungry for drama on this boring and barren island depraved of exciting events?

Hiccup blinked at his father, his lips tugging further down into another embarrassed frown as he was reminded of the duties that kept his father away from him. The duty of a chief was no joke, but neither was the duty of a father. "I mean— between you and me... the village could do with a little less feeding, don't'cha think?" Hiccup quipped back sarcastically, gesturing someone in the crowd secretly who happened to be a little more overweight than those of the others.

The chief grumbled, shaking his head and raking a hand down his face to ease the bubbling anger that sat menacingly on the tip of his tongue, words that are better left unsaid ready to pour out. "This isn't a joke son! Lives are at stake!" He lectured, but the scolding only seemed to stir the pot of defiance further within the small boy.

"I'm not joking! I really hit it— just... let's get a search party out there, and we can probably find it by noon!" He suggested, battling back against the man thrice his size in an argument that usually nobody would be brave enough to start— but that was teenagers for you.

"Gods above, why are you like this?" The man sighed, his energy dimming from one of an angered father and chief, to that of a disappointed dad right before everyone's eyes. Hiccup visibly sagged at his father's words, fists clenching by his sides before he relaxed them to keep his stature steady.

"I— I just can't stop myself. I see a dragon and I have to just— kill it! It's.. who I am dad," he bit back, gesturing to himself, but the adamancy on being a beast slayer only drove the man further up the wall. "No... Hiccup, you are many things. But a dragon killer? Not one of 'em," his father huffed, and those words seemed to finally blow out the flames of resistance within the boy.

At the relinquishing posture of the small boy, the chief turned to a one-legged, one-armed Viking with a rather dusty and soot coated outfit, a nasty overbite hanging onto his face and a small helmet resting stop his otherwise bald head, only a blonde moustache being any source of hair in sight.

"Gobber, take him to the hut. Make sure he gets there, I have his mess to clean up," the chief ordered, and Gobber nodded, hobbling over to Hiccup before patting the boy on the back with his hook, shuffling him along through the crowd that parted out of his way, yet never took their beady eyes off of him.

"Wow, I've never seen anyone mess up that badly! That helped!" Snotlout snickered from where he stood with the others of the fire brigade, the teens having finished their job and now stood in a judging group that lurched words at the boy their age— who happened to be the outcast of the litter.

"Thank you.. I was trying— so..." Hiccup mumbled, trying to create another sarcastic quip but only coming up dry as his mood dampened further with the comments thrown his way, the man leading him home doing nothing to put a stop to the insults.

"I can't believe he'd try and drag (Name) into his stuff... what a loser," Tuffnut laughed, nudging his sister who stood next to him with a matching grin of mockery. "Yeah, she's way too cool for him," Ruffnut agreed, both of their piercing gazes following the boy as it travelled up the hill.

The Vikings around had started to disperse, the chief ordering those who could still help out around as the adults got to work immediately, beginning the repairs the village so desperately needed in this moment.

(Name) herself moved from where she once stood frozen, coming to join the group who'd just been mocking Hiccup a mere moment ago, and even though she stood by her peers, her eyes were locked onto Hiccup as he disappeared behind the door of the chiefs hut.

"Yo, (Name)! Let's go get some breakfast babe," Snotlout smiled, throwing his arm over the shoulder of the girl, and even though his comment irked her— she couldn't find it in her to say much in response. "Yeah... I guess I'm hungry," she hummed, slipping away from the arm that had wrapped around her, moving towards the Meade hall.

.

The hustle and bustle inside the great hall was nothing new to the kids, as they were kind of the main part of it. Their loud jeers and clattering voices clashed with the barking laughs of the adults sitting at other tables, jugs of mead being slammed down harshly as yet another wayward Viking bellow to their others jokes.

(Name) sat between Astrid and Snotlout, the girl having wanted to sit next to her friend, while Snotlout insisted he take perch next to her for a reason she didn't bother to listen to.

The food in front of her was untouched, toyed with and left to cool as the simmering chicken was left painstakingly alone, even a girl as hungry as herself not daring to touch the mouth watering meal after the events that had just occurred.

"And then he grabbed his leg, and somehow shoved it up his—"

"Okay Tuffnut, we really don't need to know what your uncle Magmar can do with himself..." Astrid cut the boy off, a wooden cup filled with water in hand, her eyes striking a glare at the boy who had been eagerly explaining a story nobody wanted to hear.

"It's actually our GREAT uncle Magmar, Astrid. And boy... was he great. I once watched him grab a Nadder and somehow fit it down his throat!" Ruffnut piped up, defending her and her brother's great uncle as she continued on with the 'amazing' feats the man had committed.

"Whatever, keep telling your stories, I'm off to train.. don't blame me when you get killed in training tomorrow," the blonde hummed, pushing herself up from the table and walking off, taking her axe with her. She somehow managed to bring the blade everywhere, and it was question roving around whether or not she had some kind of special attachment to the weapon.

"Wait... dragon training is tomorrow?" Tuffnut blinked, his jaw dropping and his eyes looking to the rest of the tables inhabitants, awaiting an answer. "Uh— yeah? We've known this for weeks," Fishlegs murmured, the boy still chowing down on his own food as he answered the twins question.

"Uh... no we haven't," Tuffnut denied, crossing his arms firmly in denial. "Yes we have you dimwits. Did your parents not tell you?" Snotlout glared at the boy across from him, raising an eyebrow at the stupidity he displayed so easily.

"...no," Ruffnut hummed, shrugging her shoulders and leaning her weight down onto her hand, perching her head atop her palm. "Nah, last time we spoke to our parents, they — —— — —— ———" the noise of Tuffnut explanation drowned out, (Name's) thoughts being dragged from the conversation and instead perched on the look of a boy.

It haunted her, that look of betrayal that shouldn't have hurt as much as it did. She barely knew him, why did how he looked at her make her heart clench like it did? Why did the horror and embarrassment he exuded reflect back onto her? He was the village muck-up, not her. So why did it affect her as much as it did?

That's it. She wasn't going to sit here and stir in her thoughts— she was going to find Hiccup, and... ugh, apologise.

The table groaned when her weight shifted, her body lifting itself and stepping away from the chair without touching her food, eyes drawn to the large doors that would lead her outside the Great Hall. "I'm gonna go train with Astrid, see ya," and with that, she rushed away, ignoring the sudden yelped of Snotlout as he scrambled up, trying to follow after her. Something about living in his parent's basement.

[arminsumi]

Breakfast fluff

G. Satoru — さとる

NOTE : pls ignore errors i have neither slept nor proofread this 👍 i'm just craving breakfast so bad rn which is funny considering i hate cooking breakfast lol

SUMMARY — waking up to Gojo making breakfast and fussing over the kids on a typical Sunday

CONTENT — domestic fluff, just a wholesome morning with hubby Gojo

🍒 — J ⋅ reblogs and comments help a lot ! enjoy reading :)

It's a very early morning. The sunlight through the sheer curtains is soft. You take your time getting out of bed, soaking up the enjoyable softness of the blankets and pillows. Though you're quick to miss the warmth that you usually wake up to. Blinking awake and going into the bathroom, Satoru hears the soft thumping of your footsteps down the hallway and smiles to himself.

Satoru's not usually an early riser, in fact he usually stays in bed with you and locks an arm around your waist when you try to leave. But it's a Sunday morning, and Sunday mornings were special. Because it became a tradition to go down to the bustling market, clutching the week's savings in his hand, and buy thick bacon and eggs. The freshest kind.

You and Satoru were living in a bare bones apartment with sparse money, as two young "parents" with three tots under your wings. Somehow, you two made it work, even though there were struggles you smiled through them and never strayed from each other's sides. He'd often work the night shift, and come home at ungodly hours so tired that he melted into your body like a sick child, aching for your affectionate touch.

While you lazily carry out your morning routine in the other room, the kids crowd around Satoru as he stands in the kitchen — trying desperately to balance the chaos of entertaining Yuji, Nobara and Megumi while simultaneously cooking up breakfast.

And he cooks breakfast with such meticulousness. He considers it an art form. There's a remarkable swiftness in the way that he wields a kitchen knife to cut the bacon block into strips, and a talent in the way he cracks open eggs with one hand.

" Nobara, Yuji, what are you yelling about ? "

A little voice whined, " Nobara bit me ! "

" Nobara, don't bite Yuji. " Satoru lectured softly, eyes focused on the food cooking in the pan.

" I only did it because he tried to take your sweeties out of the pantry, dad ! " she reasoned.

" Don't eat my sweeties Yuji, you can have some later today — smell this ? Daddy's cooking up yummy breakfast so don't spoil your appetite, okay. You're gonna love it. "

The bacon and eggs crackle and pop in the oiled pan, sometimes so loudly that it makes Megumi jump in fright.

" Gumi, don't stand too close to the skillet. " Satoru warns, placing a hand on his head of messy bed hair and ruffling it, causing it to look even more unruly.

A steamy breakfast aroma wafts down the hallway and satisfyingly fills your lungs. You can hear the four of them chattering and Satoru's interspersed mini-lectures.

You look at them from the doorframe, Yuji and Nobara run out the other way into the interleading sitting room.

" Who's that peering 'round the corner ? " Satoru playfully teases, his voice bringing you warmth.

" Maaa. " Megumi groans and trots over to you, giving you as big of a hug as his little body could manage.

You comb your fingers through his hair, fixing up the mess that Satoru's previous ruffling caused — as usual.

And he flashes a look behind him at you, winking like a cheeky flirt. His smile is so big because of how purely happy the sight of you makes him; especially with that bleary-eyed morning face. You look so cozy, it makes his heart lurch to see you wearing his oversized t-shirt.

" Hey ! You didn't give me a morning hug ! " Satoru pouts and complains to his son.

Megumi groans. With a small encouragement from you, he quickly dives in for a rushed and almost shy hug. His arms wrap around Satoru's legs. And like the menace your husband is, he ruffles Megumi's hair to ruin again — making the boy groan annoyedly and break the hug.

" Ugh, daaad stop. Mom just fixed my hair. " Megumi grimaced, promptly running away when Satoru smiled down at him evilly — because that smile was the one he made before going in for tickles. And tickles from Satoru? They were devastating, truly.

So little footsteps thump out of the kitchen and the two loud voices that have been sounding from the sitting room become three loud voices. You notice how Megumi's accent takes after Satoru's rather than yours, and it warms your heart.

You approach the stressed, apron-clad chef and immediately he turns around to engulf you in an energetic kiss and embrace.

" You're burning the bacon, dad. " you giggle, face squishing into his torso.

" NOOO — shitshitshit. " he mutters under his breath, lips tingling from that tasty kiss he just snatched off your lips.

" Language, 'Toru. " you murmur at him, arms wrapping around his slim waist. You give him butterflies and then he loses all composure, causing a burnt disaster in the pan. The eggs are crusted brown, the bacon is glitterring as it sizzles a deep color.

Automatically, you go around the kitchen collecting and preparing plates and cutlery for the meal. The clang and clash of plastic reminds you that today is a big deal; you and Satoru were going to go out and use the rest of your weekly savings on new kitchenware.

Stopping for a moment to amire the attractive view of your husband's physique from behind, while he rather chaotically shovels the cooked contents of the pan out onto the serving plate that you slide next to him.

" Ah the bacon is saved. . . " he breathes in relief.

The sizzling food finds its home on plates. Satoru steals a quick kiss.

And then another. And another and another until the two of you zone out for a moment and feel like you're just two teenagers again, stealing lovey dovey kisses on your way to morning classes, of course his lips always caused you to be you late to everything back then.

But before you and Satoru can completely intertwine like lovers, there's the common interrruption of Yuji's wailing coming from the sitting room. You and your husband exchange those parental sighs and smiles, before you head into the other room to fix the little commotion. Poor Yuji complains to you through teary eyes that Nobara bit him "for being annoying" and Megumi is just wandering back into the kitchen to help his dad serve up breakfast without him even needing to be asked. He was just a sweet boy like that.

And it's a good meal. One that hits all the spots. You wish you could have more, even though Satoru did put from his plate onto yours throughout the meal. It's a caring habit of his that you never realize until after you've devoured everything. You pay him thanks with a tasty kiss, and he smiles into it like he always does.

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

[rory-cakes]

The Child

She was here…

“Alastor! She’s here! In heaven!!!” 

“Who Birdy?”

“Eudora!” 

Huh?

“Oh, I HAVE to go meet her! I’ll get approval for her to come down and visit you too!”

His daughter was here…

“Everything’s so bright up here…” 

Eudora was in awe of the sights of heaven. Her jaw dropped for a moment while she looked around. 

Emily giggled, “Yeah! It’s so great!!” 

“Emily, there was someone I hoped you could help me find. Her name was-”

“Eudora?”

The woman could have been her twin. Sure, there were little differences here and there, but overall, the two were one and the same. Despite having never met her, Eudora could never forget the face of the woman in the painting in her family home—the woman who gave her life for her own. The woman was her mother, without a doubt. 

“Mama?”

Tears welled in the singer’s eyes,

“Oh, my baby!!!” 

The women rush forward in a crushing embrace. Y/n’s body shook from the sheer emotion of being able to hold her child for the first time. She finally got to hold her baby. 

“Hi mama.”

“Hi baby.”

A certain antlered man was a lot more quiet than usual.

Normally, Alastor would delight in the chaos that the hotel provided. Even Husk started to get anxious as that man hadn’t threatened him in a good three days. 

“Soooooo, anyone know what’s wrong with smiles over there?”

“Now that you mention it, he hasn’t been meddling lately.”

“I’m taken it as a blessing.”

“Come on guys we should go see what’s wrong!”

“Uh Char, I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“Why not?”

“Cause smiles ‘ll rip ya head off?” 

“You don’t know that…”

…

“Okay maybe! But-”

The front door is opened and a golden glow floods into the space. 

“Hi everyone I’m back!!”

“Y/n! I’m so glad your here! What’s wrong with Alastor?” 

“What ever do you mean?”

“Well he’s been mopey for days!”

“Mopey? My husband? Really?”

“Uh Mama?”

Everyone freezes. 

In the doorway is another angel. 

She is the spitting image of their angel friend. 

“Ah right! Everyone this is mine and Alastor’s daughter Eudora!”

Alastor has a what? 

“The deer procreated?”

“The what?”

“Birdy is that you?”

“Yes my darling! Come here!”

Alastor’s heart stopped.

She was so beautiful. 

“Hi Pop…”

“My little doe…”

The facade falls. 

The members of the hazbin hotel watch as the small family is reunited. 

The Child Is Home…

A/n: I hope you all enjoyed the family reuniting!!

Taglist: @crazed-flower, @nanamunath, @preferably-fictional, @eccedentesiast-sapphic, @leximus98, @cupidsgift, @mag-chan, @stygianoir, @thereeallink, @yelloeukulele, @mariaclarade-la-cruz1, blurpleuni-squid, @galaxywing-has-adhd, @just-here-reading, @deez-nuts0, @strawberry-gothic, @purplerose291,@1-800-mocha, @trashbin-nie, @queenmizuki, @nkirukaj @bennythebitch @otherthoughtsofbu, @fantasycantasy, @hunnybee11626, @notally-tormal, @valerie-36, @lovingyeet, @holographicage, @har-har-harvey, @i-love-jafar, @cupidsgift, @meow-meowo, @theblueslytherin, @deadt3tinside, @lyralibra, @the-unhinged-raccoon, @avitute, @alastorswifeee, @stygianoir, @sideshow-b0b, @deadlymouse123, @mysingularitybts, @emotionalfangirl2002, @t0xic1vi, @goodlittlepup, @starsatmyhome, @wendds, @reader3, @redfoxgotlost, @hurthermore, @frostychurro, @isa-dragon

[planet-hwa]

BAD BOY FACADE CHAPTER 6 — 산

. . . ⇢ previous chapter  ◦  series masterlist word count     2.5k

warnings     petnames, swearing, gang affiliations, gang fights, mentions of drug dealing, slight gore?

❝ when you look at me like that, my darling, what did you expect? ❞ 🎧 now playing   505 ; arctic monkeys

Speeding down the streets and passing all the nice houses, eventually turning to the wretched ones, San glanced at the message Wooyoung sent once again.

‘White Guardians at the warehouse. They’re looking for you.’

Harshly stopping at the entrance of the abandoned warehouse, bikes owned by members of The Black Pirates were mixed with other bikes belonging to their biggest rivals — a larger number of bikes. San jumped off his bike and rushed inside, met with the stand off of the two gangs.

The two gangs used to be closer, more recently , business partners some would say. Everyone but authorities knew that The Black Pirates held a drug dealing operation, and The White Guardians used to be one of their biggest consumers. Until a younger generation of the gang got caught with the contents, and were quick to rat out the providers. That was the moment The Black Pirates cut all dealing ties with the gang, and unintentionally started a hell cycle of sabotages and physical altercations between the two.

“What the fuck do you dicks want?”

“Finally, the man of the hour!” A tall boy cheered, the smaller group behind him snickering at his comments.

Of course, it was always this group that would cause trouble, never the older members of the gang. And San, Wooyoung, Mingi and Jongho were always the four that had to deal with them.

“I’ll ask again,” He said, standing face in front of the ring leader of the group, still threatening enough even to the taller boy. “What the fuck do you want?”

“You know what we want.” The boy said, serious and determined to intimidate San, but his confidence was hard to falter.

“We don’t sell to you anymore, now fuck off.” San snapped.

The boy scoffed, turning before pulling his fist back and throwing a punch, one San avoided quickly. Chaos erupted quickly, kicks and punches being thrown around. Though there were a couple more on the attackers, the small group of Black Pirates held up a good fight, majorly keeping the upper hand.

San focused his attention on the main boy, landing every punch he could, and gaining a few in return. The boy backed up and swiftly pulled out a pocket knife before lunging back at San, avoiding any potential fatal wounds he could. The two gangs were so focused on attempted murders that the sound of police sirens growing closer didn’t render to them until the last available second.

_________________________

Night fell upon the town, the moonlight shimmering through the sheer of your curtains and casting a gentle glow in your room, along with the white light that gleamed from your phone. Your eyes grew weary as you did your ritualistic scroll through social media before bed, blinking away the blue light induced tears that glassed over your eyes.

Though it was extremely late — 12:27am to be exact; and the rest of the house lay quiet, you couldn’t sleep no matter how tired you were. Even with all of the commotion throughout the last week, every emotion and image of what happened still burning away in the back of your brain, sleep just refused to chase you. You closed your phone and placed it on charge, turning away to try and rest for the night. Just as your eyelids started to feel heavy and ready to grace you with slumber, the sound of an engine outside caught your attention.

Who would be driving at this hour?

As the noise became louder, it became more recognisable. It wasn’t a car’s engine, but the engine of the motorbike that dropped you home earlier tonight. Questions began racking your brain; why would San be on this side of town at this hour, what was he here for, was he coming to see you? You peaked through the window’s curtain that sat just above your bed, glancing up and down the street and finally catching sight of the bike as it slowed at your driveway. You watched as San hopped off the bike, quick to notice the way he stumbled as he began walking to your front door.

Was he drunk?

Before he could reach the door, you had quickly tiptoed down stairs so as to not wake anyone — considering they somehow didn't wake from the loud, revving engine outside their yard. He raised a knuckle to the door, ready to knock, but it creaked open before he could. As you gained more of a sight of him, your heart sank. Your eyes gazed over his face, though it was in the shadows, you could see the discolouration and access of blood.

“Hey princess.” He mumbled, a weak smile on his lips.

“San, what are you doing here, are you okay?” You whispered, concern laced in your voice and readable on your face; he thought it was adorable.

“S-sorry, I know it’s late but…” He looked down at his bruised knuckles before returning his eyes to yours. “I didn’t feel safe going anywhere else right now.”

Glancing over his body, you noticed the blood dripping from his knuckles and the slight tears in his clothing, as well as the bruises and splits in his face. You grasped his hand gently, not wanting to hurt him more, before quietly pulling him inside and up the stairs to your bedroom. Thankfully, your bathroom was connected to your room, so the little noise you would make would be shielded by the extra walls of your bedroom.

“Sit on the toilet seat, please.” You pointed whilst bringing in a small stool from your makeup vanity, he did as you said and sat down, positioning the stool in front of him as you collected your small first aid kit from the drawers.

He achingly removed his leather jacket and discarded it on the floor, the bruises up his arms easily noticeable, especially with the lack of sleeves on the grey tank top he wore. Your eyes ran over his biceps as he rubbed over them soothingly. Though he was bruised and injured, you couldn’t help the gaze that was glued on the defined muscles, quickly looking away once he caught you staring.

“You don’t have to-”

“Shhh~” You hushed, wetting a cotton pad with disinfectant before beginning to lightly dab it on the cuts on his face. He winced at the sudden sting but remained still. “You can’t let them get infected.”

Wiping away any dried blood and adding ointment to the small, non scarring cuts that scattered over his face, you moved your attention to the worst of them. A nice split through his eyebrow that was likely to scar and a deep cut on the side of his lip, almost looking like piercings gone wrong. The moment the damp cotton pad grazed against his eyebrow split, San pulled back suddenly at the strong sting, sharp eyes glared back at you.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, gently cupping his face with your free hand and pulling it closer, you pressed the cotton pad lightly against the cut once again — now he accepted the comfort and warmth of your hand that held his chilled cheek, he almost melted into the touch.

You replaced the cotton pad, now soaked with burgundy blood, with some tissue and continued dabbing away any reminiscence of pain. So focused on curing San, you hadn’t noticed the way his eyes remained fixed on you and your every movement. The way his gaze stayed on your eyes, never roaming your body which felt slightly more exposed than usual, even in fully covered pajamas. The small smile that settled on his lips the moment you opened the door, and how it remained the entire time even with the pain he was feeling.

“Can I ask,” You paused, watching as he cocked an eyebrow slightly, a small nod encouraging you to continue. “What happened?”

“Uhhh, just a small fight.” He smiled and lied right through his teeth, and you knew it — there is no way a ‘small fight' would cause such harm. “You don’t have to worry about it.”

“It’s hard not to worry about it when you leave in a hurry, and then show up in the middle of the night covered in cuts and bruises.”

San hummed softly in response, eyes still deeply attached to your own, yet he was quick to glance away once you looked back at him. Holding his chin in your hand, you tilted his head up slightly, his eyes turning from fierce cat eyes to gentle puppy eyes, and began swiping the cotton pad against his lip. The cut was deep, almost splitting his lip completely in half, but he remained still as the antiseptic pad wiped the dried blood away. 

Finally finished clearing his beautiful face of injury, you focused your attention on his bloody knuckles. “Give me your hands.” And he complied, resting his hands in yours as you cleaned his wounds.

“How do you know all this stuff?” San asked, watching intently as you began wrapping one of his hands with a bandage.

“I did a first aid course once,” You explained. “And, I have an older brother.”

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence as you finished off the final bandage, a small amount of blood still seeming to soak through the fabric. As you tightened the bandage, your fingers grazed against San’s causing bolts of electricity to flash through you — through the both of you. Tension buzzed through the static in the air, your hand still holding onto his and refusing to move, and he wasn’t pulling away from the touch either.

Looking up into his eyes, you were met with a gentle sense of adoration, something you weren’t used to. Usually San seemed confident and overly cocky around women, but it was different with you, he almost felt… shy. The moment you opened the door, his heart was fluttering uncontrollably. He’s never felt this way before, and it was more confusing to him than algebra.

There was no way that a girl he met only a few months ago could have this much of an effect on him.

“A-all finished.” You stuttered, shifting your eyes around the bathroom and attempting to avoid him, yet you were drawn back to them in an instant.

He smiled, his dimples prominently showing themselves. “Thank you, princess.”

You looked away and rolled your eyes jokingly. “You gotta stop calling me that-”

Your sentence was short lived, your attention being pulled away by the sudden hand that grabbed your chin lightly. You watched as San’s eyes drifted back and forth between yours and your lips before leaning closer towards you. His breath was warm against your skin, your lips were mere inches away but he still held a sense of hesitance, waiting for your unspoken conformation.

Suddenly, his lips were attached to yours, ever so gently. It wasn’t his usual tone, passionate and lustful, he wanted to embrace the moment. He wanted to feel the soft plushness of your lips against his. Noticing you weren’t pulling away, his hand cupped the nape of your neck and pulled you closer, adjusting you onto his lap, the material of the bandage around his knuckles lightly tickled your skin. His free arm wrapped around your waist securely, making sure you felt safe and weren’t going to fall backwards.

You never thought that you would kiss anyone else apart from Yunho; let alone San; let alone in your bathroom in the middle of the night. Butterflies flourished within your stomach as the kiss deepened, yet a sense of innocence remained. It was obvious there was no push for anything more, simply enjoying the feeling of your lips dancing together. Your hand held his jawline, fingertips tracing the defined bone lightly. A pink tinge painted across his cheeks at the touch, his ears beginning to turn a bright red.

After a few minutes, you disconnected to catch your breath, but his lips instantly tried to chase yours for more. Landing a chaste kiss on your lips, then another quickly on your cheek, he watched as your face grew flustered, giggling at his delicate actions. Your fingers were lightly intertwined with his, watching as your fingertips grazed over his bandaged knuckles, unsure of what to do or say next.

“I-I should probably go.” He mumbled, almost inaudible and stuttered.

“Or you could stay…” The second the word left your mouth, his eyes found yours once more.

He couldn’t tell if you were serious or not.

“I mean, in your condition, you probably shouldn’t be riding in complete darkness for twenty minutes.”

He thought about it for a few seconds before silently accepting your offer with a nod. You got off his lap, promising yourself you’d clean the bathroom tomorrow, and lead him back into your room. Quickly grabbing some clean clothes from your older brother’s room, extras he had left before heading to college, and gave them to San. As he began to change into the new clothes, you distracted yourself by dragging the mattress out from under your own bed and decorating it with cozy blankets and pillows.

“You can sleep on my bed-”

“No, I’m not kicking you out of your bed.” He shut down your offer quickly, holding a serious tone yet you could see a smile casted over his face in the dim light. “You will sleep in your bed, and I will sleep comfortably on the mattress.”

Rolling your eyes in slight annoyance, you didn’t fight him on it, seeing as he already had a tough enough fight tonight. You climbed into your bed, snuggling yourself under the covers and making sure no limb stuck out for any “monsters” to get — because, yes, you were still cautious at your grown age. San followed, falling into the mattress below and tugging the blankets over himself, turning his body to face your bed.

“Goodnight, San.”

“Goodnight, princess.”

The room fell quiet, the only sound being the light buzz of the internal heating and the soft, sleepy breaths from the two of you.

“Oh wait, I forgot something.” San whispered.

You heard him rustling around, unable to properly see anything but a moving shadow, until he was leaning above you. He cupped your face gently, pressing a soft kiss to your lips for the final time tonight before returning to the mattress. Warmth began to fill your body, your cheeks felt like they were on fire, and your lips tingled slightly. You hadn’t felt that way about a kiss since your first, though it was a feeling you welcomed.

The two of you drifted off soon after, the sound of San snoring lightly easing you to sleep after him. When you woke up in the morning, you expected to look down and see his quiet body, but he was gone. The mattress was tucked back under your bed, the pillows and blankets folded neatly on the floor along with the clothes you lent him. A small sense of dejection filled you at the sight, or lack thereof, of San — it almost made you feel like ‘just another girl’ even if you didn’t sleep with him.

Or maybe, he was just really good at Irish goodbyes…

. . . ⇢ next chapter

author's note this chapter is actually quite short because i deleted a bit of the fight due to it being a bit repetitive and wanting to leave a little to your imagination, but it wasn't posted on time because i worked two early morning shifts and was completely drained so i do apologise for that + a timeline check for this series if anyone is confused: this chapter is set roughly around 2-3 months after the first chapter

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written by planet-hwa™

[withthewindinherfootsteps]

For all the very self-sacrificial Wei Wuxian takes out there, I think they may actually fit Lan Wangji more?

…Before you disagree, there’s a big caveat to this – I don’t think these takes fit either of them well. But it’s interesting to compare their default responses to situations. Both want to help others – but whereas Wei Wuxian’s first instinct is to redirect (redirecting attacks to other targets, redirecting enemies’ attention to distract them, etc), Lan Wangji is much more direct in his protection*. And generally, that’s going to lead to putting yourself in harm’s way more often.

My favourite scene to demonstrate this is when Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji (alongside Jin Zixuan) are protecting Mianmian in the Xuanwu cave. Wei Wuxian does this by redirecting Wen Chao’s attention to him, provoking him and causing him to step out of Wen Zhuliu’s range of protection. Meanwhile, Lan Wangji stands in front of her, blocking her from danger directly… despite being at a disadvantage and already injured!

Wen Chao was enraged, shouting, “How dare you! Kill them!” A few of the Wen Sect’s disciples unsheathed their swords, rushing toward Lan WangJi and Jin ZiXuan (...) the two boys were at a loss in terms of both weaponry and sheer numbers. Even more, after the past days of being constantly on the move, they were in quite a bad state, not to mention that Lan WangJi had been injured. They definitely wouldn’t be able to last long. Chapter 52, EXR translation

This is a scenario with high stakes (Mianmian’s life), but also with multiple solutions, meaning that their choices aren’t muddied by there only being one option. Yet we still see Lan Wangji directly defend – despite the fact that, if Wei Wuxian hadn’t intervened, he almost certainly would have died! And that’s true of another moment in the Xuanwu cave I never hear anyone talk about:

Before Wei WuXian could think of what to do next, his body tilted as somebody shoved him to the side. Lan WangJi had pushed him out of the way. With this opportunity, the jaws of the beast had closed, biting down on his leg. Wei WuXian’s right leg hurt from simply watching the scene. Lan WangJi’s face was still expressionless. He had only frowned slightly. Afterward, he was immediately dragged away! (...) Lan WangJi didn’t expect that [Wei Wuxian] could catch up even under such circumstances. He was utterly shocked. Chapter 53, EXR translation

Admittedly, this is a scenario with more limited options, which is why I mentioned Mianmian first. But his reaction stays consistent – directly blocking somebody from a threat with his own body. And again, he didn’t think Wei Wuxian could do anything to rescue him! He does not expect to survive, and we just… don’t talk about this???

(And note that when Wei Wuxian rescues him, he actually puts himself in less danger! Again, this is mainly due to the limited solutions – you can’t rescue someone who’s already bitten down on by blocking the mouth from biting down on them – but he’s still in a position where he does have the option to get out of the situation if he chooses (he’s not between the teeth! His hands are opening the teeth from the outside, his feet are on its shell, he can jump into the water at any time and does after Lan Wangji is safe. There is danger of the Xuanwu choosing to attack him, but his position on its own doesn’t put him in mortal peril, which is not the case for Lan Wangji here). So though it doesn’t give us that much insight into how he prefers to deal with situations, the dynamic is still interesting to consider with regard to how fanon!WWX is often treated.)

Now, maybe these examples are unfair. Maybe Lan Wangji here was very tired (he was), stressed (he was) and not thinking straight, and so he just didn’t think of other options that he would’ve chosen in normal circumstances. If that’s the case, it still supports my point – no matter his eventual course of action, his first thought/instinct is still to obstruct directly – but this isn’t just a pattern limited to this arc, and to such high-stakes situations. For example, look at his reaction when the Wens order the Lans to burn the Cloud Recesses (and though I’d be very surprised if Lan Wangji wasn’t stressed here too, he’s at least less tired).

Wei WuXian, “Is Lan Zhan’s leg related to this?” The disciple, “Of course. The first place that Wen Xu ordered them to burn down was the Library Pavilion. He declared that he’ll teach anyone who wasn’t willing to do it a lesson. Lan WangJi refused. He was attacked by Wen Xu’s people and they broke one of his legs.” - Chapter 52, EXR translation

I say this is low-stakes because actions won’t actually have that much of an impact – though there is danger, the Cloud Recesses are going to be burned down no matter what, so it’s not something you’re risking by not acting to prevent it. Yet Lan Wangji still chooses to directly oppose, to directly protect the pavilion as much as he can (even if that’s very little, and even if I do think the main factor here was actually his refusal to go against his principles and burn down the Cloud Recesses, not him trying to protect them. But that still leads to the same course of action: to act very directly). And again, that results in direct bodily harm to him**! 

But even in situations where he’s not stressed or under any pressure, we still see that direct protection is his default. Just look at the way he acts towards Wei Wuxian in the present day. One of his very first actions towards him (and pretty much the very first after finding out his identity!) is to block Jiang Cheng from hurting ‘Mo Xuanyu’ with Zidian – to quote EXR, “[Wei Wuxian] hadn’t been hit by the whip yet only because Lan WangJi acted as a barricade in front of him.” – and after that we often see him protecting Wei Wuxian from dogs, we see him let Wei Wuxian stand behind him when Jiang Cheng is angry at the Golden Core reveal (Chapter 102), we even see him protecting Wei Wuxian from things they both know he can face (Su She):

On the other hand, Lan WangJi gripped Bichen in one hand as he grabbed Wei WuXian’s waist with his other, pushing Wei WuXian behind him for better protection. In reality, Wei WuXian had no need for his protection, but he still leaned against his body with both comfort and compliance. Chapter 104, EXR

None of this leads to any harm of either of them, but it still holds true to the pattern of Lan Wangji protecting by physically putting himself between what he’s defending, and harm’s way. This response of his is extremely consistent! And it’s not just towards Wei Wuxian either – there’s a tiny moment in the Lotus Seed Pod extra which you could argue fits this pattern, where Lan Wangji chooses to physically hold the heavy roof of an abandoned shed to block the rain from reaching an injured man and a few other people, rather than trying something like using wood from the shed (including the four pieces of unattached wood propping the shed up) to build a temporary shelter for them until help arrives. The circumstances and therefore actions are slightly different, but the process leading to them is still the same – Lan Wangji still acts in the most direct way he can to protect the people from the rain, which does involve exerting himself even in a situation where there would probably be other ways to solve it (even if his Lan arm strength means he can hold the roof up without a problem). It’s not a deliberate choice to do whatever puts him in harm’s way the most, but directly using himself to protect people, whatever form that takes, is his main and default course of action.

The final thing I want to mention is that even Lan Wangji’s ‘big reveal’ moment – him being the one to take Wei Wuxian away from Nightless City, fighting 33 elders to protect him – calls back to this trait as well (MDZS is so well put together)! Once more, Lan Wangji is directly protecting, risking and suffering serious bodily harm as a result. Recovering took a few years!

…And yet. I never see anybody thinking Lan Wangji is self-sacrificial. I’d argue they’re right – but why? Why, when he puts himself in harm’s way more than Wei Wuxian does?

Maybe it’s because of something like this: ‘but he does this because he loves Wei Wuxian and doesn’t want to see him hurt, and protecting others is just part of his morals! It doesn’t point to any issue within him, he does have a stable sense of self and self-worth – at least there isn’t anything pointing to the opposite’.

Which, again, I’d argue is right.

But… does that really not apply to Wei Wuxian, too?

---

*And there are moments where they don’t act like this, especially for Wei Wuxian, but that’s generally in situations where there aren’t any other options which still lead to them accomplishing their goals. Protecting the Wens by… redirecting the Jianghu’s hatred towards other people? How would he do that? How would that help anything??

**It’s quite interesting to think of how Wei Wuxian would act in these situations, actually – both being forced to burn down the Cloud Recesses (or Lotus Pier, in this case), and in preventing (in this case) Lan Wangji from being eaten by a Xuanwu rushing towards him. The first, I’m not actually sure what exactly he would do (especially as nothing he can do will stop the burning) – I’m not sure he’d just go along with it, but I don’t see him just refusing to despite that not doing anything, either (especially since if he’s unharmed, he’ll be more able to protect his shidi and shimei if they’re in danger, since he’s a much more skilled cultivator/fighter than they are), at least not in the same way. Hearing people’s thoughts on that would be really interesting, actually!

As for the second – if there’s really no time to change anything about the head or its direction, he would probably do the same (with the only other option being letting Lan Wangji die). But if there was the smallest room to change something, I could definitely see him activating another fire talisman (to distract the Xuanwu and redirect its attention to the pillar of flame instead of Lan Wangji, even if just for a moment). And even if self sacrifice really needed to be an option, with no way out beside it, I think Wei Wuxian’s would take the form of redirecting the Xuanwu’s head towards him rather than directly blocking it from reaching Lan Wangji. When he does put himself in danger in canon, this is usually how he does it (see: him redirecting the corpses towards himself during the Second Siege, while Lan Wangji is protecting him and blocking them from reaching him… another nice example of their situational response!).

I do plan on writing a separate meta about Wei Wuxian’s tendency to redirect, though, so some of these points may be reiterated there.

[11queensupreme11]

Continueing with the Shiva Au where Percy is the fourth wife of Shiva and going on with the idea you had of Loki being love with Shiva let's run with it the whole reason Loki desired to fight her is that he is love with her and he's also super jealous the she's married to someone else and like Baldur he wants to both kill and love her.

During the fight, Loki, driven by love, jealousy, and sheer insanity, fights Percy with everything he has and then when Percy pushing herself and in desperation starts to eat him alive Loki comes to realize he’s really into it when she starts eating him alive. Instead of fear, Loki is completely turned on, and in a moment of pure horniness and stupidity, he moans out loud that he’s in love with her, wants to marry her, and then kisses her mid-fight.

The entire Norse Pantheon collectively facepalms. This is since, Shiva and his wives were in the stands and could hear and see everything they were already watching intently to ensure Loki didn’t hurt Percy once they hear what he says out loud and once he kissed her they immediately lose their minds. Shiva has to be restrained by his best friend Rudra from jumping into the arena to kill Loki. Durga, Kali, and Parvati also have to be physically restrained by other gods in their Pantheon, while Platonic Yandere Poseidon—already seething over Percy being married to Shiva—completely snaps at the thought of Loki as a suitor and has to be restrained by Zeus and Hades.

Percy, utterly bewildered, wins the fight thanks to Loki’s sheer stupidity and horniess, but the chaos doesn’t end there. Shiva and his wives rush to smother Percy with affection take her back to their palace before turning their wrath on Loki, who now has to run for his life. With an enraged Poseidon also in the mix, Odin refuses to intervene, and even Thor nopes out of the situation. Now, it’s up to Percy to somehow stop four furious, yandere Hindu gods and her overprotective father from murdering Loki.

LMAO SEE THIS IS EXACTLY THE SORT OF SHIT THAT WOULD HAPPEN IF LOKI GOT CHOSEN TO FIGHT PERCY IN RAGNAROK 😭😭😭😭😭

he'd take it seriously at first, really focused on getting her to forfeit while causing as minimal damage as possible.......

but then percy's dumb ass starts nibbling on him and he creams his fucking pants on live television 😭

this was a very accurate description anon, well done 😭💖💖💖

but this is also a hilarious way for humanity to be saved: because a stupid god got too horny during the fight and accidentally lost 💀

the gods are never gonna forgive loki for this btw, first he gets horny for a taken woman in live broadcast and then he fucking FUMBLES THE TOURNAMENT BECAUSE OF IT 💀💀💀💀💀💀

[otherone12]

I Don't Need a VIP Pass

Gerard Way x Reader

-> Masterlist

A/N: Heyy!! This fic was quite short, but I really think it turned out well… anyway, I don't think there was any reason to extend it. Hupe u enjoy it!

(Plz sand me requests! Literally anything... )

Summary: You are a non-public Gerard's partner, 'because you never really cared about put this under the spotlight, 'cause you love each other and thats enough for you. He invited you to see MCR's concert, but you didn't found him anfter the show. Looking for him, you went to the "meet & great" area, but you haven't a VIP pass.

- Word Count: 900

- Warnings: None :)

- Ps: I'll not use y/n…

- Ps2: I'm brazilian, so english is not my first language... sorry if i wrote something wrong.

___________________________________________

1st Person POV

The crowd’s cheers still echoed in my ears as I maneuvered backstage, a mix of adrenaline and nerves coursing through me. MCR had just put on an epic show, and all I wanted was to be with Gerard, like we always do after shows. 

Our post-show meetings are practically a ritual. Right after the show I meet him backstage, then we go to the hotel and enjoy some of the quiet time we have during the tour. When there's a meet-and-greet, it's customary for us to see each other beforehand, and I stand nearby waiting. But this time I couldn't find him anywhere.

- Did anyone see Gee? - I called out, trying to maintain my composure as the backstage chaos unfolded around me. It was usually easy to find him, everyone here knew I was his girlfriend, and I never needed any pass or else. But tonight, the backstage area felt like a maze, and I was losing my sense of direction.

- Good luck finding him! - Frank joked as he rushed past me. - He’s probably off kissing some fan or something.

- Ha, very funny, - I shot back, rolling my eyes. But my heart raced with a mix of annoyance and concern. He always made it a point to find me right after the show. Why was this time different?

I made my way toward the meet-and-greet area, where fans buzzed with excitement, but my stomach twisted when I couldn’t spot Gerard’s familiar bright-red hair in the crowd.

A couple of girls, probably around my age, stood near the front. They looked like they knew everything going on so I approached them casually.

- Hey, have you seen Gerard? - I asked calmly - I’ve been looking everywhere for him.

One of the girls immediately gave me the up-and-down, zeroing in on my neck.

- You don’t have a VIP pass. - she said, in an affronting tone.

- Yeah, I know, - I forced a smile, tryng to keep calm - I don’t need one.

I kept my eyes darting around, trying to spot him.

- Well, we paid for ours, so we do need one. - Her friend snorted and rolled her eyes. - If you don't have a pass, you're not supposed to be here.

Her voice dripped with that Karen-level smugness, making my skin prickle.

- I’m not here to meet the band, I’m just looking for Gerard.

 I said, trying even hard to keep calm. My patience was wearing thin.

She crossed her arms with a mean smirk.

- Well, too bad. If you don’t leave, I’ll get security.

I took a deep breath, again, forcing myself to relax, though anxiety and frustration gnawed at me. Where the hell was he?

- Look, I don’t want trouble, -  I said, my voice tight. - I just need to find Gee-

- SECURITY! - she yelled, cutting me off.

A wave of exasperation hit me like a truck. Great.

A large security guard lumbered toward me, parting the crowd with the sheer size of his presence. 

- Where’s your VIP pass? -  he asked gruffly, crossing his arms.

- I. Don’t. Need. One. - I clenched my jaw.

- Why do you think you’re so special, huh? - The obnoxious girl made a loud scoff, apparently trying to get as many people as possible to look at the whole scene

I was about to open my mouth and replace her. The things running into my mind to say that weren't friendly at all, but when I saw Gerard, weaving through the crowd, with that cute smile I loved so much and his hazel eyes sparkling under the dim lights, relief flooded me.

- Gee! - I called, waving at him.

- Sugar! - His face lit up when he saw me. 

 He practically ran over, slipping an arm around my waist and pulling me close.

- There you are, - he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to my temple. - I’ve been looking for you everywhere.

- So was I,- I said with a grin, running my hand along his cheek and pulling him in for a proper kiss. 

His lips met mine slowly, sweetly, in that overly dramatic way only Gerard could pull off. And, of course, I made sure the smug fan saw every second of it.

When we finally pulled apart, I glanced at her. The look on her face was priceless. Eyes wide, mouth agape, disbelief painted across every feature. I couldn’t resist shooting her a wicked grin.

- That’s why I don’t need a VIP pass, - I murmured just loud enough for her to hear.

- What? - Gerard blinked, confused but amused. 

- Never mind.-  I held his leather jacket, pulling him for a kiss again, smirking against his lips before pulling away. - But next time, babe, can you make sure I get a VIP pass?

I know that wasn’t nice for me to doing this, but damn it was so fun. I made sure to get the most touchy possible while we’re talking, hands under his jacket, hugging him.

- Why? - He raised an eyebrow, grinning.

- Because I really don’t want to have to punch your fans. -  I wrinkled my nose playfully.

- You wouldn’t-

- Oh, I would,- I teased, cutting him off - For you? In a heartbeat.

He let out a soft whine, squeezing me tighter. 

- But they’re not like groupies… just enthusiastic fans, babe, you know that.

I gave him a sly look. 

- Sure, Gee. Whatever you say. - I packed his lips one last time before we walked away together.

___________________________________________

~ Soo that's it! Lemme know if u liked it! <3