to the people who stayed with me through thick and thin..thank you so much

10 | You’ll Never Walk Alone



series warnings: mature themes, strong language, violence, substance abuse, eventual smut. this chapter contains graphic content such as violence and alcohol

Originally posted by aestheticvbts

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The Secret (9)

prologue; part one; part two; part three; part four; part five; part six; part seven; part eight; part nine; part ten; part eleven; part twelve; part thirteen; epilogue.

Baekhyun could feel his heartbeat pounding hard against his chest, loud and fast as he slowly weaved through the chairs towards you and a shy Zoe. He’d never felt this nervous for anything in his life, not even when he debuted and performed at his first showcase with the rest of EXO. He didn’t want to mess this up: his daughter was too important and this was his chance to make up for the years he’d lost.

He introduced himself cheerfully, trying not to let his nerves shine through his voice. He flashed his daughter a bright smile that he hoped would comfort her a little. On the inside however, his stomach was doing somersaults.

“I’m your dad.”

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Avis Draconis

Pairing - Gajevy

Type - AU: Dragons and fairies because I’m trash for that trope

Words - 4334

Note: this was originally gonna be something for Gajevy love fest, so I’m still gonna put the tag, but I decided to post it now bc I’m too in love with it to wait until the day I was gonna post it. Also, this is going to become an actual fanfic, so here is the link to the story! Thanks for all the support so far <3

Levy let out a weak cry as she slid down the cold iron bar, too exhausted to stand any longer, much less throw herself against the cage like she had been. The frigid metal seemed to continually sap the life right out of her veins, and it was all she could do to keep the tears that blurred her vision from falling.

The dragon had thrown her in this cage, then up and left. He was probably preparing his torturous means of killing her. He’d probably start by cutting up her wings before tearing them off. Each slice in the thin membrane would cause her immense pain. Then, for all she knew he might even decide to break her flight bones before he even tore them from her back. The thought made her curl even further into herself and conceal her frightened form with those large wings he’d go for first.

The silvery feathers along the bottom of the membrane were out of place and mangled. The gold ones lining the bones at the top were patchy and dull. Her species of fairy, the ancient Avis people of the south, were a prideful one. So the sight of her plumage in such poor condition brought a feeling of shame upon her.

Not that its appearance was her fault though…

At the sound of footsteps approaching, she scrambled back from the door of the cage. But these footsteps sounded different than the ones she heard when the dragon left. She wasn’t sure how long ago that was, but she knew it had been a fair amount of time. So the sound of these new footsteps lit a dark curiosity in her. They echoed off the stone walls in what she could only assume was the dragon’s aerie, though it was dismal and bare, with only two windows and a dragon-sized door that had been slammed shut after they arrived.

“I’ve heard much about your people,” came a gruff voice from the darkness. She could only assume that it came from the same creature as the footsteps. “The prideful fairies of the south, the powerful, legendary Avis who come out only when the sun is at its peak, and when the moon is at its fullest.”

The torch on the wall near the cage only illuminated so far into the darkness, and whomever was now circling her stayed just outside its reach.

“I say you’re just arrogant fools who’ve hidden in your enchanted forest for far too long,” the voice hissed. Judging from it, she could tell it was a man, though she could not glean what species he was from the few words he had spoken. “You value your knowledge and your wings more than anything, so you have failed to notice all the changes going on in the world outside your borders…”

“You call me arrogant,” she croaked, her throat feeling like a desert. “Yet you keep company with a dragon. That seems to me both foolish AND arrogant…”

The man chuckled, the sound bouncing off the walls to give the feeling that his laughter was surrounding her. The next thing she knew, a hand reached through the bars at her back to take hold of her narrow chin and turn her around to face him.

“My poor little fairy, that dragon and I are practically one in the same,” he grinned. The sight of him took her breath away to the point that she had no response.

A wild mane of unkept black hair fell down his back, which was covered by a thick, luxurious cape. He had on a dark shirt with a high neck and no sleeves, giving a full view of his muscular, scarred arms. His light pants were tucked into worn leather boots to complete the look. But even more captivating was his face. A sharp jawline and prominent cheekbones gave him a very angular appearance. One odd thing about him though was the piercings scattered about his face. Three lined either side of the bridge of his nose, four were fastened in the place of both of his eyebrows, and two dotted the space between his lower lip and chin. His ears were littered with even more metal studs, and she found herself wondering what they felt like.

The grin that still cut across his face exposed his bright white teeth. Upon closer inspection, his canines were much longer - not to mention sharper - than any normal fae’s. Dragging her gaze away from them, she hesitantly brought it up to meet his own, then instantly regretted the decision. Once they made eye contact, she felt that she was paralyzed in her seat. His irises were the color of freshly spilled blood, and they bore hungrily into her soul. A stroke of fear shot through her, and she mustered all her will to tear away from his grasp and scramble away from him. Huddling on the opposite side of the cage, she concealed her body once more with her bird-like wings, leaving her head free to watch him skeptically.

“Aww come on little fairy. I just wanted to play a little,” he gave a dramatic pout as he took hold of the bars in front of him and hung almost seductively against them. “What do you think I’m gonna do, clip your precious little wings?”

“No, I’m sure the dragon will take care of that,” she muttered, voice wavering slightly at the thought.

“Come now, you really think that big metal head has enough use of his paws to be able to rip the wings off a teeny fairy like yourself?” He scoffed, straightening and slowly making his way around the cage toward her. He took a slow pace, emphasizing each step and clasping his hands behind his head. “If anything, should he decide he wants your wings clipped, he’d have me do it. But I don’t think that’s his intention…”

She hesitated, staying very still as the man continued to approach her. “T-Then what is his intention…if you know him as well as you claim?”

He sighed, coming to a stop behind her. He reached through the bars once again, but this time much more gently, to tug her closer to him. “I think it’s something much simpler than that, little fairy…” he murmured as he leaned down to nearly brush his nose to hers.

“Tell me…please…” It came out no louder than a whisper.

“Maybe he was captivated.” The sound of metal clinking against metal did not even register to her in that moment. “Maybe he wanted to keep you for himself.” The door was suddenly unlocked and opened, but Levy still was not free, as the man was suddenly situated atop her slight frame, his long legs straddling her waist and her arms pinned gently above her head with one of his hands.

“Maybe he wants to make you queen of all the lands he rules over instead of letting you become queen of that silly little forest. I’ve watched for two centuries as the war between the dragons and fae raged on, just waiting for a chance to end it, and I finally found that when you were named heir to the throne…”

“What are you talking about? You’ve been watching for two centuries? I’m the answer to the end of the-” Her voice trailed off as realization dawned on her. “Y-you… you’re the dragon aren’t you?” Terror coursed through her veins, but so did something else. Something much sweeter, much softer.

His expression changed slightly, looking almost guilty. “And what would you do if I said yes?” It was his turn to speak in no more than a whisper. “Would you run away terrified like all the rest of your kind? Would you refuse any consolation or friendship I might offer? No, I don’t think you would do that…” His free hand moved to slowly brush the strands of blue hair away from her face, almost lovingly. He then trailed it down her side until he reached her once awe-inspiring wings. “I thoroughly apologize for what I did to your wings, little one. It can be a bit difficult for a matured dragon to catch a fairy as quick as you. I foolishly hoped there’d be little or no collateral damage, but obviously I was mistaken.” Regret tinged his voice, almost making her believe him.

“If you say you’ve been around for two centuries, why did you wait for me to end this war? It’s claimed the lives of millions of fae and thousands of dragons…” Her voice was colored with fear still, and she didn’t try to stop it from trembling.

“Because I was the dragon that started it in the first place…” he admitted after a moment, not meeting her gaze.

“You aren’t-” She gasped quietly. “Black Steel Gajeel, the Iron King of the Dragons.”

“Do I frighten you a little more now? Does the name strike terror in your heart? I know I was the cause of all these deaths, and I wish I would’ve known two centuries ago what havoc it would bring. But I cannot let the rest of my brethren die off into extinction, nor do I have any more desire to bring destruction to your kind.” He dropped his head slightly, his face now hidden from her sight.

As his grip on her hands loosened, Levy slipped one free with ease, before hesitantly placing it under his chin to make him look at her. His skin was hot to the touch, and smoother than she would have expected from such a rugged looking man. “I think I understand why you brought me here then…” she admitted.

He glanced to his sides as movement caught his eye. But it was simply her wings, rising around him. Their impressive span was more than enough to wrap around the large man above her, and she nearly laughed at the fascinated look on his face as he inspected the feathered barrier around him.

“But I think I’d rather hear your explanation…”

He visibly swallowed, looking almost nervous. Never in a thousand years would Levy have thought she could make a dragon, much less their king, look nervous…

“I want to bring this cursed war to an end, my little fairy.”

Gathering her courage once more, she smiled ever so slightly. “Is that all you want? I find it hard to believe that the mighty Iron King would want just one thing of a lowly fairy like me.”

“You are no lowly fairy. You are Princess Levy McGarden, Heir to the throne of Avion, future ruler of the lands of Fiore and all the fae who reside within its borders. I may be king of the dragons, but if there is any creature to equal my power, it is you, both in status and magical ability.” He gazed down at her with such intensity that her heart fluttered in her chest. “I would like nothing more than for you to remain here by my side. Only together can we bring this fighting to an end. And only together would we be able to lead into the future to assure it does not occur again.”

“Convince me, o dragon king… why should I listen to a word you’re saying? I cannot deny that, while I’m tempted to accept your offer,” Levy hesitated, letting her fingers slowly trail down his neck to tug down the collar of his shirt. “I’m sure it would be an unlawful relationship in every meaning of the word. And while I’ll admit, you’re quite handsome…” Raising herself up on her already freed arm, she tugged the other from his grasp and wrapped it around the back of his neck. Only when they were nearly nose-to-nose did she finish. “Tell me how you wish to atone for all the sins that dirty those hands of yours.”

The almost stunned look on his face gave her enough self confidence to stay in that position. Otherwise, she’d have blushed so intensely she’d have burned to a crisp! But that confidence was tested as he gave a low chuckle. Here she was, trying her hardest to be intimidating and hopefully appealing, and he had the audacity to laugh at her… Anger tinged her expression as he stopped.

“I apologize, my little princess. This was much more than I’d expected. Had I known this would be the route you would decide to take me on, I’d have prepared a room for you to do with me as you saw fit, instead of leaving you in a cage…” As his words brought a deep blush to her cheeks, he ducked his head to press his lips softly to her neck. The tenderness of the gesture sent a chill down her spine.

He continued on after a moment of kissing her sweet skin. “So I hope it suits your needs-” he paused again, this time to look up at her. “If I offer my personal chambers instead.” With that, he allowed his lips to return to her neck, this time with the addition of gentle teeth scraping against her creamy skin.

Her wings slowly fell away from the pair as she felt herself going nearly limp at the feeling. As they made contact with the metal floor of the cage, she felt him slip one arm under the small of her back, and one beneath her head in what she thought was a mere romantic gesture. While she may have been partially correct, a strange leathery sound drew her attention away from the feeling of his mouth.

Opening her eyes, she drew in a quiet gasp. Above her rose a pair of metallic-looking dragon’s wings that put her own to shame, both in appearance and span. Gajeel gave her neck one last nibble before grinning down at her. The next thing she knew, they were out of the cage and soaring through the cavernous passages of the Iron Dragon’s stronghold. She was tucked against his broad, muscular chest, her wings folded tight against her back as his pumped thunderously above her.

Just as she had grown accustomed to the feeling of flying without her own wings, they were slowing to a stop. It was then that she realized that her arms were secured around his neck, and her body was pressed flush against his. As he folded his wings to his back, allowing the thick cape to cover them once again, she looked at him in wonder.

“Would you like to hang on my neck all night princess, or would you like to try and get at least a wink of sleep?” He grinned as that adorable blush spread over her cheeks once again. She released her hold on him, only to be lowered about a foot to the ground by his strong hands on her waist. She then truly realized how much larger he was in comparison to her.

As he turned to push open a set of enormous metal doors, she made to follow, but froze at the sight that awaited her. She had thought the previous cave was his aerie, but she was surely mistaken. This cavern put the previous one to shame. Mountains of treasure rose up along the curved wall, and six tall pillars carved to look like incredibly realistic dragons helped support the ceiling, from which hung an ornate crystal chandelier lit with hundreds of light lacrima. But the center of the space was what truly caught her attention.

A smaller collection of treasures surrounded a raised platform that contained what appeared to be some type of nest. The treasures there looked much more valuable than those along the walls, as this horde contained crowns and treasure chests overflowing with jewels. While the surrounding ones glittered gold, this pile glittered every color of the rainbow, reflecting the light from the chandelier above.

She took slow steps toward the altar as Gajeel watched her with his arms crossed and a small smile on his face. She looked so small and fragile against the backdrop of his chamber. All the metal and treasure surrounding her, with her tattered wings and torn dress. Yet he truly believed that, should it ever come to pass, he would protect her with more ferocity than he would ever protect any of the treasure that he had gathered over the last two centuries.

She paused at the steps to the altar and glanced back at him as he stood in the doorway. Receiving a nod of approval, she ascended the stone steps to the place where his nest was perched. She circled the structure slowly, noticing the iron shell on the outside, and running her hand along the large pillows that lined the edge of it. It was very much akin to the nests her own people slept in, but on a much, much larger scale. As she reached the back of it, she paused to look up at Gajeel. With a look of dangerous curiosity and mischief, she unfurled her wings and leapt into the air.

Her plan was to simply fly up a little ways then fall softly into the nest. But her battered wings had other ideas. She only pumped her wings twice, before pain shot through them and her face contorted. Before she could even start to fall toward the nest, Gajeel was there, arms holding her protectively against himself as she tried her hardest not to cry out from the pain.

He slowly lowered them to the nest, placing her gently among the blankets and pillows before moving to inspect her wings. He moved his fingers carefully along the bone of her left wing, then finding it intact, he moved to the right one. He found that it wasn’t in fact broken, but there was a patch of skin along the bone that was heavily irritated. The feathers there were torn up and several were missing. Guilt welled up in his chest as he folded his wings once again and called out in a language Levy couldn’t understand.

“I’m so sorry my little fairy, I’ll get you patched up in no time,” he murmured into her hair. He gently pulled her into his lap, keeping her injured wing free. She laid against his chest for a long moment, before he felt her stir. She reached up to undo the clasp at his throat, letting the heavy cape fall away and leaving his wings exposed. Looking up at him, he nodded with a smile as he got what she was silently asking.

He slowly unfurled he left wing, bringing it forward so she could see it. He smiled at the look of wonder that came to her face as she gazed silently at it. She reached out a tentative hand to run her fingers over the length of his flight bone. After she reached the end of it, she trailed her fingertips down the leathery membrane of the wing itself, fascinated as she brushed over the bones extending down from the main one through the membrane to end in a little claw at the edge of the wing. The structures were so foreign to her, so captivating, that she didn’t even notice someone else entering the chamber.

“Gajeel, I have what you asked for,” came a clear, deep voice from the doorway. With a start, Levy looked up at Gajeel in confusion, and he nodded with a smile before looking toward the door.

“Thank you Pantherlily. You can bring it in.” With his wing in front of her, Levy couldn’t see who was approaching. So she slowly peeked around the large obstruction only to be dumbstruck at the sight.

A small black cat approached them carrying a bag full of what appeared to be medical supplies over his shoulder. The cat wore a pair of billowy olive green pants and walked on two legs, and as she glanced around, she decided it had to have been him that spoke before.

Retracting his wing and returning it to his back, Gajeel watched Levy’s expression carefully. She looked astonished as the little Exceed approached them, and it brought a smile to his face. As Lily stopped at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the nest, he bowed low, a gesture he had long since abandoned with Gajeel.

“Why bow now Lily? You haven’t done that in decades? Gajeel chuckled.

“The bow wasn’t for you screwhead. It was for her highness, Princess Levy of Avion,” the cat rolled his eyes. Levy laughed quietly, relaxing slightly against Gajeel’s chest.

“I like him,” she murmured to the dragon beside her.

“Tch, just hand me the supplies and be on your way,” Gajeel grumbled. As the cat stepped up to hand him the bag, he clambered over the side of the nest to joint them, seemingly much to Gajeel’s annoyance.

“So, Pantherlily, you seem to know who I am, but I can’t say the same about you,” Levy smiled as Gajeel shifted beneath her. She extended the injured wing, then shifted so her back was pressed to Gajeel’s chest so he could reach it with greater ease. She could have sworn he held his breath as she moved. “Where do you hail from?”

“I am an Exceed from the kingdom of Exlandia, a far away country where creatures like myself thrive. It’s nice to finally have someone around here to talk to about things as trivial as this,” he chuckled and shot a playful look at Gajeel. The dragon scoffed as he gently spread a salve over the injured area. It stung a bit at first, but after a moment Levy sighed as it soothed the pain.

“So tell me, what makes you stick around here Pantherlily?” She asked curiously.

“Gajeel saved me from many a battle when we were younger. Without his ugly mug, I wouldn’t be alive today. So I suppose it’s because we’ve formed a friendship. Or maybe I’m just too scared to fight with that dragon he hides inside that skin of his…” The little cat shuddered at some unspoken memory, which spiked Levy’s curiosity before she decided it would be better not to ask.

She inhaled sharply, trying to keep her wing still as she felt the ever unpleasant sensation of feathers being plucked from her skin. “What are you doing?” She hissed, turning to see what Gajeel was getting at.

“I’m sorry, but these feathers aren’t going to regrow unless they’re-”

“Removed, I know,” she cut him off. “But there are less painful ways of going about that, you know.” Her voice was colored in thinly veiled annoyance. “Let me handle this part. I won’t lose a single feather more than I have to.”

Rolling his eyes, Gajeel eased her off his legs to stand up. “Also know that your left wing is swollen near the base. Don’t fly for a while, I won’t have you injuring yourself further.” Stepping to the edge of the nest, he hopped out onto the altar. “I’ll be back.”

Her sense of safety wavered, and mild anger washed over her. “It’s not as though I asked to be injured and captured by a dragon today,” she muttered to herself. His footsteps halted, and she looked up to see him turn on his heel to face her.

“Do you want to end this war or not? Would you not sacrifice yourself for the sake of your people? Because I sure as hell would. I figured this would be the best alternative to one, or even both of us, having to die…” he retorted.

“You could have at least offered a treaty. Had you tried to arrange this peacefully, I would be much more open-minded to the idea, not to mention my wings wouldn’t look like a fledgling who fell out of her nest!” She replied somewhat defiantly.

In an instant, he was back in front of her, but now she was pressed against the pillows on the edge of the nest. His wings were flared out around him, and with the light from above him casting his face in darkness, she felt a true spike of fear run through her body.

“It can be a bit difficult to write out a treaty when you never learned to write in the language of your enemy,” he hissed, his eyes nearly glowing with frustration.

She was silent for a moment, letting his words sink in. Of course he wouldn’t know how to write in Fiorean. He was a dragon from the north. Up here they spoke Draconic, a long forgotten language in Fiore. Merely four fae still knew the language from the time before the war, and they were incredibly difficult to get in contact with. So should a treaty come to the queen of Fiore in Draconic, it would have taken an exceptionally long time to get it translated.

“I’ll make a deal with you then,” she proposed as an idea came to mind.

“What is your deal little fairy? I’m interested to know what you could offer.” His wings slowly lowered to his back, but his expression hardly softened.

“Teach me Draconic, and in return I will teach you to write Fiorean. I know it’s not much, but all I can really offer you is knowledge. I was a scholar, a magic wielder. I’m sure we would both benefit from this deal, just think it over…”

Since she was a little girl, some hundred years ago, she had always been fascinated with the dragons that plagued her people. She had heard tales of their complex language, and had dreamt of learning it. So the thought of finally being able to have a chance at learning even a bit of the difficult language intrigued her.

He hesitated, standing to his full height above her. “I’ll consider it.” Then he was walking away again, leaving her and a dumbstruck Pantherlily in his nest to tend to her wings.

anonymous asked:

"You fell asleep on me in the subway and I should probably wake you up and its my stop next stop but it’s okay, I can always just catch the subway back…" if you have time!! :)

Dedicated to @biblionerd07!

– –

“Great job!” Bucky says, jogging to catch up to Steve Rogers as he leaves the office. “I thought those mock-ups were fantastic.”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Steve says, adjusting his scarf. It, along with his puffy coat, look like they’re about to swallow him. It’s adorable.

“And your presentation was super polished. I was really impressed. I’m in sales—”

“I know you’re in sales,” Steve says.

Bucky tries not to read in that. “Yeah! Good. I was just tryin’ to say that um, we don’t see a lot of presentations that’re that polished. It was really refreshin’.”

Somehow, despite the scarf and coat and his thick-framed glasses, Steve manages to level Bucky with a Look. “Thanks,” he says.

“So are you, uh, gettin’ the F train?” Bucky asks. “I’ve seen you on it a few times. I take it every day,” he adds, hoping it doesn’t come out as creepy. It probably came out as creepy.

He waits a long moment then says, “Yeah, I’ll be on the F train.”

Bucky nods and keeps walking, pretty sure that Steve just wants him to shut up and leave him alone.

Of course, the one time he actually has an excuse to talk to Steve and he’s already worn out his welcome.

After a minute or so, Steve sighs. “Sorry,” he says. “I’m being a jerk.”

“No, no!” Bucky says. “It’s not a big, I mean, I’m the one who…”

“I was up all night working on the presentation,” Steve says. “I haven’t slept all night, and I didn’t shower, so I’m pretty embarrassed to even be talking to you.” He sort of shrinks down into his scarf.

“Oh jeez,” Bucky says, as they start down the staircase to the train station.

“So I promise that I’m more of a person sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” Bucky asks, swiping his card and going through the turnstiles, still close behind Steve.

Steve shrugs. “I’m not a people person,” he says.

“Better than a lizard in a person suit,” Bucky says. Steve shoots him another Look, but this time he’s… smiling a little.

“I guess,” he says.

They walk to the platform, Bucky happily surprised that Steve is letting him tag along, even if they are just standing in silence. When the train pulls up Steve walks in, then looks back towards Bucky and gestures for him to follow. Trying to keep his smile from getting too wide, Bucky scurries after him.

There are a few open seats and Steve drops into one with a huff. Bucky sits next to him, unable to keep from feeling a bit smug. He’s on the train next to his crush. Doesn’t get a whole lot better than that. “Where’s your stop?” Bucky asks.

“Neptune Avenue,” Steve says. “You?”

“Prospect Park.”

“Not too far from each other, all things considered,” Steve says, yawning.

“Nope!” Bucky says. He waits a long minute and then says, wringing his hands, “Maybe if you’re not busy we could—“

He almost jumps when Steve’s head hits his shoulder.

Bucky looks down and Steve is out, snoring and adorable, glasses askew. Bucky smiles and settles in. There’s no harm in letting Steve get some rest, and Bucky is sure that he won’t sleep for that long. Bucky hasn’t been able to do so much as take a cat nap on the train.

But then one stop goes by, and another. The car gets increasingly crowded but Steve remains asleep, soft hair tickling the edge of Bucky’s jaw.

Bucky realizes that Steve’s going to sleep through his stop. Of course, Bucky would have to wake him up to get off at Prospect Park, but given how easily Steve conked out the first time, there’s a pretty good chance that he’d just fall back asleep.

Prospect Park comes and goes, and Bucky stays in the train.

It’s not hard to sit and wait for Steve’s stop. The crowd thins out and things get more comfortable, so it’s actually pleasant. A few minutes before Neptune Avenue Bucky maneuvers himself around so that he can tap Steve’s shoulder. “Steve?” he asks. Steve grumbles and sort of rubs his head into Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky chuckles. “C’mon buddy, your stop is comin’ up,” Bucky says.

“Oh!” Steve says, sort of popping up. He’s got lines on the side of his face from Bucky’s jacket, and his glasses are completely askew. He looks over at Bucky and squints. “I slept?” he asks.

“The whole way,” Bucky says.

Steve clears his throat. “Your stop was…”

Bucky shrugs. “I’ll call an Uber or somethin’.”

“I’m such a jerk,” Steve says as he adjusts his glasses.

“No, no! I just… You’re tired. I didn’t want you to fall asleep again and miss your stop.”

The tinny voice that announces the stop says they’re approaching Neptune Avenue.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Steve says. “Meet me after work tomorrow, okay?” Steve asks, standing up.

“Really?” Bucky asks.

“Definitely,” Steve says. “Maybe we can both get off at Prospect Park,” he adds with a little grin, then scampers off the train. Bucky watches him as the doors close, grinning as Steve turns around to wave him goodbye.

“Wow,” Bucky mutters. “Lucky me.”

Then he realizes that they’re on their way to Coney Island and he groans.

You’re Afraid - Loki x Reader - (REQUEST)

Originally posted by oneformischief

Summary/Request: In which Loki ignores (Y/N) for reasons she cannot explain
REQUESTED BY: ANON (thank you! ❤️)
4: Walk out that door, and we’re through.16: Just talk to me
19: I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me
20: I think you’re just afraid to be happy

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Warning: hella fluff my bad // Was suppose to be a Drabble by ended up long like every other one I’ve done!

Word count: 1.5K

[[ Check Out My Masterlist ]]

A/N: Requests are open and I absolutely am open to anything! I love speaking to you guys and receiving any type of feed back so please don’t hesitate to send an ask or message (:
With that being said, I never close request so if you do happen to send a message, please be patient! It could take a day or a month! Thank you.

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unidentifiedblackthorn  asked:

we were forced to hide in this very cramped space (from friends/authority figures/people trying to kill us) and this is a very awkward position to be stuck in with someone you’re avoiding because they’re too attractive for you to deal with” au WITH RHYS AND LUCIEN?? PLS??? I CRY???

this was for the prompts from a while ago!! still doing them, it’s just taking me 5ever lol. BUT THANK U FOR THIS GIFT IM ALSO CRY. 



“Get off me, you idiotic–”

“You’re the one who’s on me, you get off.”

But there is nowhere to go, and after a few moments of futile struggle, Lucien is forced to settle with his shoulder wedged against the door, half being poked by the cleaning supplies sticking from the shelves in this comically small maintenance closet, and half with Rhysand flush against him, their limbs askew and intertwined as they’re posed to avoid randomly hung buckets and mops.

Lucien swears and Rhysand asks, almost incredulous, “does the Fall Court not believe in adequate storage space?”

“Couldn’t you just replace all their memories with giant squids or something?” Lucien snaps in response, “Cauldron boil me, you’re supposed to be this all-powerful godlike creature and we’re hiding in a closet–”

Rhysand puffs out a laugh and Lucien can feel it on his ear. “I am an all-powerful godlike creature, first of all. And there should be an ‘extraordinarily handsome’ somewhere in there too.”

Insufferable. Insufferable. That he is, in fact, extraordinary handsome, and the slight implication that he knows Lucien thinks that… there are so many awful people in this court it seems impossible that Rhysand could introduce him to new ways to hate a person, but here they are, pure frustrated loathing coursing hot through Lucien’s veins as they hide from the Fall Court guards.

It is entirely Rhysand’s fault, a stunning highlight to this diplomatic trip that seems to have been planned with the specific goal of making Lucien’s life difficult every turn. Today Rhysand had been taking an uncomfortably close look at one of the Fall Court heirlooms, when he definitely had no business being unaccompanied in the vaults–Lucien had stumbled across him and must have startled him, because Rhysand dropped the precious glass artifact he was inspecting, and the sound of shattering was met with cries from the guards and the sounds of approaching boots. A mutual look of fury and fear–neither prince wanted to be associated with the crime, much less face Beron’s wrath for it–and they’d taken off down the hall, since winnowing was magically disabled in the palace. Lucien had been the one to pull them into a closet as the guards drew closer, and as Rhysand’s elbow digs further into his side, he regrets it fervently. His father’s retribution–or almost anything–would have been better than enduring this. It’s pitch black in the closet, and the darkness is heightening his other senses: Rhysand is warm and firm against him, and Lucien is discovering nuances in Rhysand’s scent, thick between them, something like saltwater under the citrus-musk, and he likes it and he hates that he likes it.

Rhysand goes on after a pause; Lucien suspects it’s because he can’t handle the mere suggestion that he’s less powerful than he’s supposed to be.

“In any case, the peace between Night and Fall is tenuous–”

“It gets more tenuous with every passing second of your knee jamming into my thigh.”

Rhys pauses to make a huffy little show of being interrupted. “–As I was saying, is tenuous, and tampering with will or memories leaves traces, if you know where to look. Your father employs people who know where to look. I’d like to not endanger that peace by giving anyone cause for suspicion.”

“Yes, we certainly wouldn’t want you, sneaking around the vaults alone and fondling ancient magical items, to seem suspicious.” Lucien loads it with as much venomous sarcasm as possible.

“Interesting word choice.”

“Oh, you’re going to distract me from your snooping with innuendo? Very mature behavior from a High Lord apparent.”

“I’m not the one who said fondling.” A pause, and Lucien can hear the filthy smirk in Rhysand’s voice when he adds, low and breathy, “And I could distract you with a lot more than innuendo, if I wanted to.”

The points where their bodies press into one another suddenly feel very heavy, and the air around them very thin. Lucien is going to kill him. He’s going to set all of Rhysand’s clothes on fire at once; even if Lucien gets third degree burns by proximity and/or murdered by Night Court spies in retaliation it’ll be worth it.

“Do you just go through life assuming everyone in the world is insatiably attracted to you?” He hisses.

Rhysand hums faintly. “Mostly. I tend to be right, though.”

How can he be so casually haughty, so at ease in this ridiculous pose they’re holding? How in the world does this not phase him?

And what would it take to break that cavalier composure of his?

Lucien feels the urge to try, one way or another, throttle him or kiss him, something, anything, to bring him down to some part of Lucien’s emotional level of lusting contempt. He manages, with great effort, to ignore it and lie instead.

“Consider me an exception.”

“Really?” It’s an amused little purr. “You’ve never thought about me fondling anything other than glass trinkets?”

“Incredibly, I find arrogance something of a turn-off,” Lucien bites out.

“I’m not sure I believe you. Maybe I should rifle around in your head and check.”

“Stay the fuck out of my mind, Rhysand,” Lucien snarls; aware that it’s bait, rising to it anyway. “I catch you trying to get past my shields and I swear I’ll—“

“You’ll what? Mouth off to me some more?” Rhysand says, sharply, baldly. Lucien feels thin fingers find his face in the dark, finds himself paralyzed with equal parts fury and heat as Rhysand traces the shape of his lips, his jaw.  “That temper of yours is going to get you into trouble, little Lucien. I hope you get as good at finishing things as you are at starting them.”

The nickname is too much.

Lucien snaps with something like a growl in his throat, and they collide with the clatter of cleaning supplies, door rattling as Rhysand shoves him against it, lips hot and seeking against Lucien’s. Hands grapple ungracefully, pulling, tugging, digging into clothing, both of them seeking to take; Rhysand tastes like sweat and the dust of the room and a bittersweet darkness, and Lucien is all teeth in search of more of it.

“You bit me,” Rhysand grunts, although it doesn’t stop his hand’s frenzied ascent up under Lucien’s now-untucked shirt to touch his bare chest.

“You called me Little Lucien,” Lucien pants petulantly, as Rhys latches onto his neck, sucking out his revenge.

“Well you are proving me wrong, aren’t you?” Rhys palms the generous bulge of Lucien’s hardening cock by way of explanation. “Not so little.”

Lucien holds back a groan, instead gritting out, “Fuck, I hate you.”

Rhysand chuckles, and Lucien kisses him again, rough, sloppy, just so he’ll shut up, for cauldron’s sake—

And then the world is bright, and they’re both tumbling backwards. Lucien hits the ground hard, arousal interrupted by the painful weight of Rhys landing almost entirely on top of him.

The poor maid who opened the door—and managed to dodge out of the way before her prince and the foreign dignitary he’s clearly making out with tumbled out—stands there in absolute shock, a hand clasped over her mouth.

“Sorry,” Lucien apologizes to her vaguely, feeling his shame return to him with his sense of sight.


Rhysand rights himself and slips away before Lucien can finish calming the frazzled, embarrassed maid, and is mercifully absent for the rest of the day, as Lucien grows more and more mortified about the event. By the time he retires for the night, he’s considering hiding in his room for the remaining days of Rhysand’s visit and also maybe the rest of eternity.

But he opens the door to see Rhysand, calmly inspecting the contents of his desk.

“What are you doing here?” Lucien blurts, too surprised and lingeringly embarrassed to put any real hostility behind it.

Rhysand puts down whatever he was playing with, walks over to where Lucien is rooted to the floor with that brand of disaffected self-assurance that reminds Lucien: he hates him, he hates him, don’t make out with him again–

“We weren’t finished when we were interrupted earlier,” Rhysand murmurs, and kisses him.

Arrogant, entitled, presumptuous, insufferable, insufferable, insufferable–

Lucien’s resolve crumples like wet paper and he kisses him back, Rhysand’s night-cool aura washing over his senses, making him forget why this was ever a bad idea. Somehow they end up stumbling towards the bed, Lucien gripping the back of Rhysand’s neck as they tumble onto it.

“It’s Rhys, not Rhysand, when you come,” Rhys manages to get out against Lucien’s lips, somehow still imperious when he’s underneath Lucien, both of them flushed.

Lucien swears softly. “Only if you promise to stop talking.”

anonymous asked:

pleasee write nb!alex in college, like could they meet maggie in college too? also just as a personal preference cause I love the idea could alex have a really cool undercut? wow I love your writing and college nb!alex would be amazing

It’ll all be okay next term.

Next term, when Kara comes to school with them, when Kara will be a freshman.

Because Eliza is always talking about Alex needing to take care of Kara, and Alex is always thinking of taking care of Kara.

But it’s been a while since they’ve realized how much Kara takes care of them, too, without even meaning to.

Because the phone calls and the FaceTime sessions aren’t enough.

Especially now.

Especially now with their new undercut – it took a couple anti-anxiety meds to actually go through with it, because you’re already underperforming in your coursework, Alexandra, and now you’re distracting yourself further with ridiculous haircuts? – and especially now with the binder they’d saved for all of fall term to be able to afford.

The binder that finally helps them be able to wear henleys, because the damn shirts never fell right on their body before. The binder that will undoubtedly draw cries of protest from Eliza, because oh Alexandra – or would you prefer Alexander? You know this is all so much for me to take in – your body is beautiful, and aren’t you concerned about the wear and tear with such intense compression, and what will you do when you have to spend hours in the lab and you get overheated in that thing? You are still intending to spend hours in the lab, aren’t you? Because after you failed that last test, I keep worrying that you’ll just forsake all that you’ve spent so long building for… what? Some girl? Is there a girl? God, can you let me deal with this gender stuff before bringing home a girl? Would that girl be a lesbian, anyway? Oh, Alexan – Alex – why can nothing ever be simple with you, it used to be so simple with you.

The binder that will draw protests, but hell, they’re failing a couple of classes anyway – and Eliza makes sure they can’t forget it – so why not fail at everything, right?

At least, when Alex looks in the mirror with their new binder on – their roommate Lucy had grinned like a fiend listening to Alex stumble around the bathroom, pulling it up over their legs and ass, upside down and backwards, so they could slip it up their body properly, and Lucy’s grin had only gotten bigger at Alex’s excited squeals as they tossed open the door and kept running their hands over their flattened chest, standing front ways, sideways, all ways, tossing on shirt after shirt after shirt, just to watch them finally fit properly – at least when they look in the mirror now, they see their own smile, their own tears, Lucy’s grin, hear Kara’s squeals over FaceTime, rather than Eliza’s disapproval.

“The girls are gonna love you even more than they already did, Danvers,” Lucy nudges them as the two friends sit very illegally on the ledge of their first floor dorm room, their legs hanging out of their window, a couple of feet off the ground, and Alex pffts, and Alex splutters, and Alex blushes.

But then Alex glances down at their newly-bound chest, first with excitement, first with pride, then with… panic, and they grow serious.

“But what if my mom’s right? What if the gay girls just want… well…”

“Straight up girls?”

Alex nods with tears in their eyes.

“You’re amazing, Alex. Binding or not, whatever pronouns you use. Any girl can see that a mile away. And uh… hey. Looks like that gorgeous one already has.”

Alex’s heart plummets and they try to follow Lucy’s gaze, the slight nod of her head, subtly, subtly, subtly.

And then they almost tumble right off the windowsill, because the girl Lucy’s talking about?

The girl who just parked her motorcycle in the lot across from their dorm room, all thick leather jacket and boots and denim and dimples?

That girl is the most beautiful girl Alex has ever seen, and she’s staring right at them.

Alex sends a silent thank you to the queer goddesses that Lucy’s lawyerly aspirations include a military-style commitment to fitness, because somehow, even with her much smaller frame, she manages to grab Alex subtly enough to not make it obvious, strong enough to make sure they don’t splat out of the window.

The girl notices despite Lucy’s subtlety, and she grins.

Her eyes are bright and her dimples are adorable and Lucy mutters a reminder for Alex to breathe.

“Alright there?” the girl calls, and Lucy nudges Alex in the ribs.

“Nice ride,” they call back, and Lucy sits a little straighter, proud of her friend for using… words.

The girl struts over – Alex doesn’t know how to think about her walk as anything other than a confident, almost cocky, strut, and Alex is gone, gone, gone – with a small grin still on her face, a thin backpack slung over both shoulders and her helmet still in her hand.

“You two supposed to be hanging out of your window like that?”

Alex thinks of a lot of possible responses.

You supposed to be so hot amongst unsuspecting queers?

You supposed to be riding that motorcycle on campus? You can cause an accident with how good you look on it.

You supposed to have a voice that sounds like my first kiss and a face that looks like my heaven?

They think of a lot of possible responses, but they only splutter one.

“Sure, we – I mean, no, but pfft, rules? I mean, you rode a Triumph to school, like come on, screw rules, right?”

Lucy grimaces, claps Alex on the shoulder, and swings her legs up and back into their dorm room.

“Well. Good luck with this one,” she says to Maggie with a grin. “I’m Lucy Lane, and their name – if they never get around to telling you – is Alex Danvers. Feel free to stop by any time…”

“Maggie Sawyer,” the girl answers, but her eyes are on Alex’s face, which has gone pale since Lucy used their proper pronouns to introduce them to this gorgeous girl, since Maggie’s eyes traced slowly up and down Alex’s body, taking in their undercut, their flat chest, their boy jeans, their black, short-sleeved henley.

“Well. You kids have fun,” Lucy claps Alex’s shoulder again, and Alex thinks about asking her – begging her – to stay, but Lucy’s hopped back inside before Alex can form words.

“So, college has you so busy that you’re window hanging, Danvers?” the new girl teases. Maggie. Maggie Sawyer.

Alex rolls the name around in their mind, on their tongue, and decide they love it.

They shrug. “I’m usually in the lab.” They point haphazardly in the direction of one of the science buildings. “But I uh… I’ve had a lot going on lately, depression and whatever, and my mom’s been ragging on me more than usual, so I haven’t been doing so great in classes, so they gave me time off from the lab to fix my grades and – shit, I’m sorry, I… I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”

“They tend to ramble in front of cute girls, Sawyer!” Lucy shouts from inside their living room, and Alex nearly leans in to take a swipe at her, but Maggie just grins.

“They’re lucky I find rambling charming, then,” Maggie calls back with a tilted head and a bright smile.

She used my pronouns. She used my pronouns. She used my pronouns and she’s smiling at me like maybe she can like me and holy shit, is she – she is – oh shit shit shit fuck fuck fuck I’m gonna either kill Lucy or get her a car or something as a thank you…

Because Maggie is swinging her backpack off her back and gingerly placing her helmet on top of it on the ground, and she’s arching an eyebrow.

“Want some company up there, Danvers?” she asks, holding up a hand, and Alex gulps, and Alex leans down to grasp it.

They both inhale sharply at the other’s touch, at the strength in the other’s grip. At the spark, the heat, that shoots through both of their bodies on contact.

Alex tugs her up easily, and Maggie situates herself next to them on the window ledge.

“So your parents have hella painful expectations of you too, huh?” she asks, her voice deliberately light.

“Just my mom. My dad, he uh… plane crash.”

“Oh shit, Danvers, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to – “

“No. No, it’s okay. Your parents too? Expectations?”

Maggie grins wryly and studies their fingernails. “It’s whatever. But hey – looks like you got yourself a nice roommate.”

“Damn right they do!”

“Oh my god, Lucy!”

“What, am I cramping your non-existent style, Al?”

Alex groans but Maggie just laughs. “She looks out for you,” she says softly after a few moments, like it’s hard for her to believe that people have relationships like that. Friendships like that. Family like that.

Like it’s a foreign concept to her.

Alex runs their hand over the side of their head that’s shaved, and bites the inside of their cheek.

“Do you not? Have people who look out for you?”

Maggie just shrugs. “I’m new here. New to… cities, generally.”

Alex studies her for a moment. “Welcome, then, Maggie Sawyer. Consider yourself looked out for.” They hold out their hand, and Maggie looks wary, like touching them again will catapult her into a world she’s scared to go, terrified to trust, petrified to hope for.

But Alex’s face is kind, and it’s open, and damn, it’s cute as hell.

And cute queers always were Maggie’s weakness.

Or, now, maybe… her hope.

She takes Alex’s hand, and shakes it, and she watches Alex groan good-naturedly when Lucy whoops from inside their living room.

“Can you get your own life?!” Alex calls back inside, not bothering to take their hand from Maggie’s.

“Not when yours is so straight out of a movie!”

Alex blushes and Maggie beams and Alex thinks, for once, that maybe, if this is part of their life movie, that they’re not such a failure after all.

You’re Worth The Danger.

Request from anon:Can I request a Bucky x reader? She’s a civilian but they’ve been dating for months. Some hydra agents have been watching her and try to kidnap her when she was home alone. She manages to run away and hide inside a store calling Bucky to get her. After he picks her up he has her move in with him at the tower where she’ll be safe. Tony has a soft spot for her so he gives her an all access key and welcomes her to the family.

Note: All Russian was done through Google translate so I apologise to anyone who understands it and it doesn’t actually mean what it should do!

Bucky x Reader

Words: 2,437

Warnings: Violence, intimidating behaviour, threat to life and a swear word.

Disclaimer: None of the GIFs used are mine so all credit goes to their creators <3

Originally posted by stupidteletubbie

Sometimes you wished you could stay frozen in this moment of time forever…your boyfriend’s arms wrapped protectively around you as he slept peacefully next to you and your eyes gazing upon his perfect face. Every morning for the past few months now you had been greeted with this sight and it never grew old. Not only was he ridiculously handsome but he was part of the Avengers too! Yes you, an ordinary civilian, was dating an individual that helped to save the world on pretty much a daily basis……it was like your life had suddenly turned into a script from a movie and even now as you felt his presence and you looked upon him you still couldn’t wrap your head around it all.

“Are you watching me sleep again [y/n]?”

A tired smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he slowly, and a little reluctantly, opened both of his eyes. He knew you did it every morning but until now he had never mentioned it. It amused him that rather than getting up and starting your day you would just lay there and watch him instead. He couldn’t see any fascination with him sleeping but if it kept you happy then he would live with it.

Keep reading

B r o k e n   F e e t

Requested: Yes~  

You should do 2 and 32  

Member: Jeon Jungkook Fuckboy!au

Genre: Humor, fluff, slight angst, implied smut

Word Count: 3,110

#2- “I’m gonna need you to put on some underwear before you say anything else.”

#32- “Look I know you really want that seat, but I do too now you should move before I sit on your lap.”

A/N- I’m sorry this just had to be a fuckboy one but I’m totally not sorry Well, here it is, my friend requested so I hope y’all like it~ THANKS LOVELIES

     A harsh knock disrupted you from your sleep, which, mind this dream snatcher, has been the first good few hours of sleep you’d gotten in a long time. Begrudgingly, after enough knocks to think the door would break down, you slid out from the covers of your loft that seemed surprisingly soft and mumbled a quiet, “coming”. When you threw open the door to confront the person who might get punched in the face from you, you surely did not expect to see the fuckboy of the campus, Jeon Jungkook. Oh god, how you hated his guts. You had always hated fuckboys, I mean, who other than sluts liked them? Unfortunately, you two had known each other for quite sometime. You had both grown up in the same hometown, and graduated in the same class. You frequently questioned the universe why you couldn’t have been born a year or two before, just anything to get away from this boy. He used to be so cute and shy - the little boy who was ever scared to accept dandelions from the girls on the playground when he was on the swings for recess. Hell, you two used to be friends, even though you would tease him for having boy cooties. You would always walk with him, wrestle him in the mud when no one else would, and he would finger paint you some picture that meant the world to him and pick you first for flag football on his team. He was your closest friend, your everything. He would never make fun of you for wearing cargo shorts and not dresses, for playing football and blocks instead of house and dress up. But, alas, not all good things last forever. Around sixth or seventh grade, things changed. Puberty hit, and you went from wearing cargo and basketball shorts to leggings and denim shorts. He got taller - surprisingly taller. But you thought that this lanky alien was still the boy you loved, the boy who would stick with you through thick and thin.

     But shit, you couldn’t be more wrong.

     You pretty much acted the same - you’d rather stick to basketball and soccer rather than dance and softball, but hormones got the best of him. He was one of the cool kids, obviously too cool for you. And you knew this was going to happen, but never that fast. You both expected to stick together until out of college, where you’d both either have your own lives and families, or just end up marrying each other. But nope. Life doesn’t ever want you to have what you want, and you had learned that the hard way. He stuck to his sports, but he tried to get as far away from you as possible. He’d ask to switch his seat if he ever got one next to you, and frankly, most people could see how hurt you were. You two had always been glued at the hips, you being one of the only people who he would actually talk to. It almost hurt other people to see this happen, but you learned to get over it. You’d learned to cage up your heart at a young age, and let only a few people crack that barrier, but never infiltrate it. With everything you did, every step you took, you told yourself, don’t ever get close to anyone again. You stuck to two friends, both girls who were like you in many ways, and you all understood each other well. You’d eventually turn into a pop, but not the “Oh look at me, I’m a slut who wears skirts and plays sports and has had one hundred boyfriends already”. Oh no. Far from it. Everyone knew you as the girl who would fight for herself, the girl with the good grades, and the girl who will beat you to a pulp if you’d ever insult her. So, that being known by the whole school, people were decently nice to you. You heard the rumors people say, since your friends give you all the gossip, but couldn’t ever find a shit to give about what anyone had said anymore. You’d basically cut everyone out from your life except those two special friends, to the point where you wouldn’t talk to your parents and they had almost reached out to a therapist. And honestly, you couldn’t even try to believe this all happened because of some measly boy, and you’d try to tell yourself otherwise. He’d hang out with the jocks, and do anything in his power to stay away from you. By eighth grade, you just gave up and blocked him out too. He was a no one to you at this point, you’d pretty much forgotten about him.

     But on that faithful day, when he showed up to your college dorm dripping wet and naked, you were quite amused from the look of pure horror that slapped him in the face.

     Apologies spewed out of his mouth like water from a fountain. Your attention had drifted down to his bare torso. Seeing as it was only 2 in the morning, nothing could really keep your focus for more than a minute. With a lift of a single finger from you, his ranting ceased, and your eyes looked back up to his face. A heavy sigh drifted out of your lips, and you were ready to just crawl back into bed and forget that any of this happened.

     “I’m gonna need you to put on some underwear before you say anything else.” You laughed at his red face, thinking, Wow, the one and only Jeon Jungkook, just blushed. This must be a dream. You moved to slam the door shut in his face, but as the action happened, he moved his bare foot between the door frame and the door. A howl of pain erupted from his throat, and you could’ve sworn you heard a few bones crunch. Sighing, you opened your door back up and ignored his hopping figure as you went to find some kind of cover for him. Settling on a towel, you threw it at his chest and slammed the door shut.

     “(Y/N)!!!! Please, open the door, you’re the only person I know for at least three square blocks!!!! I’m sorry for what I did, and what has happened, and I know that none of this should be happening because if I was smarter as a kid we might be in a better college in a nice apartment with better friends and-”

     “Fuck off, Jeon. You made your choice, and I chose to block you out from my life completely. Now keep the damn towel, spare the early birds some nightmares for later tonight, and get the fuck away from me.” Ouch. You could tell that hit something in him, because it even plucked a few of your heart strings. Hearing the soft sigh and the receding patter of feet, you decided to just head back to sleep and persuade yourself that all of this was a dream.


     “He did what?” You rolled your eyes at the question from your friend and went on to sipping your coffee.

     “He showed up to my dorm, naked, dripping wet, spewing out some kind of apology and asking for what I assume was clothes and a towel. I won’t be surprised if he comes out to find me again. Oh, and I probably broke his foot.”

     “Why the fuck would you break his foot?!” Her exclamation earned you both a few shushes and judgmental stares, as well as a hard glare from you. You answered with a shrug and something simple:

     “He wouldn’t move his foot.” That, also, earned you a groan from her.

     “That’s when you report him, or shove him out, not shatter his bones!”

     “That is very well an option in that situation, and you know it.” A sigh escaped her lips, and she moved to gather all of her stuff into her bag.

     “(Y/N), you know he can sue you, right?”

     “And you know he wouldn’t, right?” You mocked, putting your book mark in your book and placing it in your bag while getting up. “He won’t do it knowing what he did to me and how badly he screwed up my life. I can guarantee you that the little boy is still in there, but he’s just caged up.” You shrugged at her and walked out of the cafe to your classes.

     “… Oh for god’s sake, your literature major is getting to you. Bring the old (Y/N) back, please.” Her hands clasped together in a dramatic show, earning the finger from you. A laugh poured from her lips as she waved and walked to her art building. “There she is. Anyways, see you at lunch!” She jogs away from you as you head to your class, giving her a small wave. Today’s going to be pure hell, you thought. You knew word of what happened had already gotten around, but you also knew that you didn’t care. And that no one cared enough to ask you about it, but just simply play telephone until the story is completely twisted and wrong.


     You thought you’d heard everything by now. You heard that he’d fucked you. You heard that you stabbed him, and attacked him, hence the broken foot. Hell, you heard that you were actually the leader of a gang and called your members over to kill him. You liked that one the best, it made you laugh. Your classes had ended now, and you’d had one too many run-ins with some of Jungkook’s friends. Luckily, and surprisingly, one of them was your friend. Park Jimin. He was one who stuck with you through your little experience, and had always comforted you when the stories got to your head. Anyways, you two had made plans for you to come to the theater downtown with him for the midnight viewing of “The Mummy”. Now, you were planning to go alone some night that wasn’t the opening, but how could you resist the absolute sweetheart named Jimin? So, your friends being your friends, they invited themselves over to your dorm to, “Help you with your outfit,” despite their lack of fashion sense.

     “So Jimin, huh?” Both of them snickered at your irritated face as you slid into the simple outfit of black denim jeans, a cut off Obey crop top, and some black Vans.

     “Oh, you’re both so fucking funny. Don’t pull that bullshit on me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a movie to watch with my friend and I would appreciate it if you both got the fuck out of my room.” With sarcastic smiles, they both trudged out of your room as you shut and locked the door. Just as you hit the stairwell, you heard one call after you.

     “Don’t forget to tell us the details (Y/N)!~” Once again, her comment earned another finger and you trotted down the stairs and meet up with Jimin.


     Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

     Those were the only two words running through your head as you saw the silhouette of someone who’s build looked a hell of a lot like Jeon Jungkook’s.

     Including the bulky quad of someone who would be wearing a boot.

     Perhaps the boot of someone with a broken foot.  

     Which may have been caused by someone slamming said foot with a door.

     Yeah, that was him.

     You were contemplating turning and sprinting away while you still could, but it was too late at that time, seeing as you could hear Jimin calling out your name. Damn you Jimin. But, the closer you approached, you saw the apologetic look in his eyes, now fully understanding that this was all the little brat’s choice, and Jimin couldn’t have possibly stopped him. So, you chose to walk in with them, ignoring the gaze that was burning holes into the back of your skull. After everyone but Jungkook found their seats, you took up the duty to gather the snacks and drinks. One your way back up the isle, you knocked shoulders with Jungkook, setting him off balance. You knew he was more confident today, your outburst from last night, or rather early this morning, boosting his esteem.

     “Don’t get to rough just yet Princess, it’s only the first night.”

    Princess? God, you were so close to barfing and breaking his other foot. How were you both friends once? But, choosing to just walk away and get back to your duty, you came back later with snacks for everyone. But that wasn’t the only thing you came back to. He was in your spot. Your spot. A growl was threatening to tear from your throat, but you just quietly handed everyone their food and went to block his view. You gulped as you saw his signature smirk glued onto his face as he gazed at you, and wait, why were you nervous? Why is your heart hammering? (Y/N), keep it under control! A sigh escaped your lips, and you chose to go the simple way, seeing as the room was much too quiet for the both of you to start up a fight.

     “Look, I know you really want that seat, but I do too now you should move before I sit on your lap.” Oh shit, there’s that blush again. You couldn’t believe this. The Jeon Jungkook, blushed at your words for a second time. That was absolute madness. You even caught how he adverted his eyes for a second, and how he uncomfortably squirmed the slightest bit before patting his thighs and smirking all over again.

     “Have at it.” And so you did.

     That was something he wasn’t expecting.

     And fuck, you realized that he’s still a guy, let alone one who goes around fucking girls, and that’s when you felt it. Ohhhhhh no. Please, let that be something in his pocket, please oh please oh please oh please. But by the groan that came from his lips that he tried to cover with a cough, you knew it wasn’t something in his pocket.

     Ladies and gents, you had just given him a boner.

     In some way, you were sort of proud, because hey, don’t fucking mess with me bitch. But, you also were aware of the bright blush on your cheeks as you trained your eyes on the screen. This was going to be a long night.


     Around the mid way point of the movie, you slipped out to use the bathroom, yet almost everyone in that damn theater knew that wasn’t the case, seeing as you didn’t dare to move for majority of the movie. With that being said, you opted out on chilling on the sinks for a bit before you heard the footsteps of a limp enter. Your eyes widened as Jungkook limped his way in, trying to be as quiet as possible for someone in his situation.

     “What the fuck are you doing in here?!” The sharp whisper left your lips as you jumped down to pull him out of sight of anyone who might come in. “You’re gonna get us kicked out! What if someone saw you?! Oh god, someone saw you didn-” Your sentence gets cut off by the soft feeling of his plush lips pressed against yours, and the first thing you noticed was the sweet strawberry taste of the Twizzlers he had been eating. Your cheeks burn, and he pulls you flush against him with his arms draped around your waist. His tongue swiped over your lips, and you graciously granted access.

     After a few minutes of hair pulling and tongue fighting, you both broke away gasping for air, and that old bunny-like smile plastered over his swollen lips.  “I had to shut you up one way or another, so I went with the one I would’ve liked best.” He was back, the little boy you loved so much, the one who you had found out loved you back. “(Y/N)… I’m still sorry about all that happened… I was so stupid, and naive, and I honestly don’t know why I thought I could ever live without you in my life.”

     A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you tilted your head to look up at him. “Yes, you were all those things, but I still love you and I don’t really think any dick move you did could’ve eliminated my feelings for good. Jeon Jungkook, I love you, always have, and always will.” A smile graced your lips as you ended, and a grin placed itself on Jungkook’s.

     “I love you too (Y/N).” And he topped it off with a kiss.

     You were right, tonight was going to be a long night.


     “Corinna, come on, mommy needs to get you to school on time!” The giggle of your daughter lit up your eyes, and you set off to find her and your son. Your husband peeked out from the bedroom, looking down over the upstairs railing at you.

     “Hide and seek again?”

     “Yes Jungkook, now instead of playing with them again, could you please help me try to find them?” A laugh bubbled out from his chest, and you couldn’t help but grin and the melodious sound.

     “Okay baby, just a sec.” He goes to find them, hands fiddling in an attempt to tie his tie. But he certainly didn’t expect the door of his childrens’ bedroom to slam shut on his foot, a yelp of agony slipping from his throat.

     Both of the children joined in yelling for you, saying that, “DADDY’S FOOT GOT STUCK IN THE DOOR AGAIN!!!” You rushed up the stairs to see your husband cradling his foot on the floor and a laugh broke out from your lips.

     “Really Jungkook, what is it with you and breaking your foot in doors?” This made a smile tug at his lips, and you swoop in for a quick peck. The kids chide in with sounds of distaste as you both laugh, and you pull out your phone. “I’ll call in for you, and we’ll get you to the hospital after dropping the kids off at school.”

     “Thanks baby, I love you~”

     “I love you too, now go rest that foot.”

     And suddenly, all of your childhood fantasies had come true, and you knew you could never ask for a different life.

Say no more

Feeling a tad bit angsty though i’m not sure if I delivered that through the piece. This was probably not what you had in mind when you requested this but it took a turn like this so hopefully you don’t mind at all! Thank you for sending in your request and I hope you enjoy. 

PS: My sickness just got worst and now I’m running a fever too so updates will really be slow until I can function normally like a healthy person! I’ll be putting my health first but rest assured, I will be getting through your requests as soon as I can. Hopefully, I’ll be less sick tomorrow and well enough the day after. Hope you guys understand! Thank you.

You can read the second installment here: TWO

You never thought you would ever come to this point in your relationship. You always thought the two of you were strong enough to go through it together but your nights are mostly spent alone and you barely even see him anymore. You don’t know if this is because he is getting busier by the waking minute or if he has fallen out of love with you. You can’t tell at all.

There are times when he doesn’t even come home for a few days, a week at most and during those times when he is not at home, he barely even sends you any text messages and you are just so consumed with worry that you have started to neglect your own feelings and even your own health.

You miss your boyfriend. You absolutely miss Tim.

Things used to be really wonderful between the two of you before. He rarely ever kept secrets from you. You knew he had been Robin before he became Red Robin. All of his important secrets – even his parents – he has never kept them away from you. He would often tell you things about his missions, the people he has managed to save and the people that he didn’t manage to save at all. Sometimes you think Tim’s empathy will be the cause of his own downfall. Still you keep by his side, supporting him through thick and thin, ups and downs.

So when Tim finally comes back to you completely plastered, right off the bat you knew something is wrong. Tim rarely ever drinks to the point where he gets this plastered. Tipsy, yes but drunk, rarely ever.

You didn’t recognize the man standing in front of you but he had been surprised to see you there. You had caught that look on his face before it disappeared, replaced by yet another unreadable expression. You shrug it off – Tim’s the only thing that matters right now.

“I didn’t really know who to call or how to operate his phone.” The man simply tells you before depositing the drunk Tim in to your arms. You can smell the alcohol on him and you almost want to puke – you’ve never really liked the smell of alcohol. You quietly thank the man and with one last (questioning?) look at you, the man leaves the building and you close the door behind you with an uneasy, heavy heart.

“Tim, what have you been doing?” You ask yourself as you try to help Tim to go to the bedroom. You are currently supporting him, holding his arm and trying to lead him to the bedroom. Tim groans and says something intangible. You strain to hear his words – you have missed listening to his voice so much. “I can’t understand you, Tim.”

Tim narrows his eyes at you before trying to pull away from you, shoving your shoulders. He is weak and drunk enough that he was not able to put in a lot of strength in his push but you still manage to stumble a little bit, quite surprised by his reaction. “Let go of me.” He hisses, surprising you yet again with his response.

You can feel your heart starting to race because this is not how you envisioned meeting your boyfriend after not being around for a week. You envisioned something more like Tim hugging you and telling you he misses you just like how you have missed him. This is certainly not what you had expected: Tim coming back to you, drunk and hostile towards you.

You release the hold you have on Tim and he pulls his arms away from your hold, moving away with much difficulty from you. You would be lying if you say that did not hurt your feelings because it did. It hurt you so much.

You follow after Tim, keeping your distance especially when he kept growling at you for following him closely. There were words said that Tim normally wouldn’t say being thrown at you too. “I am not incompetent!” He yells at you after the fifth time you tried to follow him to help and this causes you to abruptly stop.

Tim maneuvers around the place drunkenly, hands on the wall and manages to somehow reach the bedroom in his drunken state. You follow after him quietly and when he flops down on to the bed, that is when you begin to talk to him. In hindsight, you probably should have not since Tim looked like he was not in any state of rational talking but you just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Where have you been, Tim? I miss you.” Half of you weren’t really expecting any sort of coherent answer because of how intoxicated he currently is. The other half is just hoping he would at least give you an explanation.

Tim surprises you. “Here and there but mostly there. This place is just suffocating me. I hate it.” His words cut you like a knife. You can feel your blood draining and your face is probably pale. “It’s like I’m being buried alive.” You never knew Tim felt that way – is this how he felt about being in a relationship with you? It makes you wonder if all those times you spent with him meant nothing to him. Is this the reason why he barely came home at all?

Hearing those words from him made you feel as if your entire being has started sinking with depression. You knew right at that moment; you would have to ask him. Not for his sake but mostly for your own. You love Tim far too much to let him continue to hurt you like this. Tears well up in your eyes as your heart begins to crack, pieces falling off in to the dark abyss that is beginning to grow inside you.

“Did you ever love me, Tim?” You try your hardest to hold back the sobs but your vision is starting to get blurry and you know there are tears streaming down your face. You didn’t even bother wiping them away. What is the point?

Tim rolls his eyes, groaning at how annoying and high-pitched your voice sounds like. “Can you just shut up?” He grumbles before glaring at you as best as he can. “Probably not in the way you wanted me to.” He slurs before promptly turning to look away from you. A few seconds later, Tim is dead to the world, snoring away in his sleep.

You knew you should not really take his words to heart because Tim is drunk but you really just could not take it anymore. Tim has been neglecting you and you have spent all of those times worrying about him and yet, this is how he treats you. He takes your heart and rips them apart in to pieces.

You begin to sob uncontrollably. Despite how much you try to muffle your sobs; you really could not help yourself. You cried and cried for the longest time.

“I can’t stay here.” You tell yourself once you managed to get your sobbing under control. You really don’t think you can face Tim in the morning and still act as if nothing had happened the previous night even when you know he had torn your heart in to irreparable pieces. You may know how to act but you are not that good of an actress.

So you pick yourself up, head over to your wardrobe, grab a few pieces of clothing and head over to your vanity table to grab your purse. You made sure you had every important belonging with you – your passport most importantly.

As much as you hated leaving at the middle of the night like this, you have had enough and despite wanting to leave Tim unattended, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. So you pour him a glass of water, place said glass of water, some Advil and a bottle of water on his bedside table.

“I love you so much, Tim.” Your heart simply continues to break – you don’t think it will ever be alright ever again – and right now, you are just too damn tired to pick up the pieces anymore. So you take one last look at Tim before leaving the apartment and the man that has taken your heart entirely.

Heart-Shaped Sucker


Words:  6758 (holy crap)

Excerpt:  He pulls the stick out from between his teeth, and Phil then realizes that he had been sucking on a lollipop, red and heart-shaped. Dan’s mouth moves as he speaks, his lips wet and shiny with the effects of the sucker he’d slid against them temptingly, and when he places it back in his mouth so slowly, Phil’s stomach feels like it’s in knots.

Warnings: smut!!!! (blowjobs, pillow grinding), food mentions, swearing, nothing too bad just know there’s a lot of sexual themes

SEQUEL: Part Two

Part Three

Check out the gr8 art for this story!!: here

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hotel walls

Originally posted by ji-min

pairing: minjoon + yoonseok
length: one shot, 4.5k
genre: smut
rating: M
tags: sexual tension, accidental voyeurism, exhibitionism, over all smut antics


“um,” jimin begins, breaking the silence, “hyung, should we–uh–tell them?”

“i-i don’t think so,” namjoon stutters, “what would we do, just knock on the door?”

ao3 link

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Mellifluous - Reddie (Part Two)

Mellifluous - A sound that is sweet, smooth, and pleasing to hear.

(part 1 here)

Reddie AU- Richie Tozier, a 17 year old broken boy in a broken home and his best friend/first love, Eddie Kaspbrak, a 16 year old mute boy who’s silence is loud enough to keep Richie sane.

hey guys! so as you know, if you read my post, i’ve been dealing with some stuff which is why part 2 was not posted right away. obviously though, here it is!! i really hope you enjoy it :-)

Warnings - a homophobic slur in the flashback, panic attack (things that happen during panic/anxiety attacks)

Italics - Flashbacks

Word Count - 1.5k

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Circumstance (Part 2)

Rowaelin daughter x Feysand son 

Here’s Part 2! Thank you all so much for the positive feedback already. Keep it coming!

Tagging a few people who have been helping me: @readinggiraffe @rhysand-and-rowan @autumn03 @destiny14444 (If you want to be tagged in future parts, let me know!)

Fic Masterlist

Cadewyn is amazed by the beauty of Terrasen. The towering mountains, crystal clear lakes, and enormous, flourishing pine trees that surround the capital city of Orynth is completely breathtaking. As he follows the Captain of the Guard, Aedion, around the palace grounds, he is struck by how different it is from the Night Court.

In Velaris, his parents do not own a large castle, or a huge plot of land. There is Aunt Elain’s garden, but Cade is sure she would love to see the one in Terrasen thrice the size of her own. Only in the last few years has Cade been able to venture down to the Court of Nightmares, and the difference between the two capitals is practically palpable.

Terrasen is fresh, new, and clean, with smiles passed between everyone and a calm atmosphere. The palace, which Cade has learned was built only in the last couple decades, is pristine, though old fashioned, and though it is enormous, has an incredibly homey feel to it. Hewn City is dark, extravagant, and the tension that is constantly floating in the air gives him a headache whenever he visits. The architecture is old and, though it is kept very clean, feels dirty.  

Quickly, and without much effort, Cade finds himself at ease in the company of the captain as they stroll along the edge of the forest and make polite conversation. Aedion only looks a few years older than Cade, but the boy knows better. The captain may not have pointed ears or elongated teeth, but Cade can recognize the smell of fae blood in him.

They have been walking a few minutes in silence, just admiring their surroundings, when Cade finally works up the courage to ask. “So, how old are you?” He wonders, trying to be nonchalant about it so as not to seem rude.

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Green eyes of envy Jerome X Reader

“Shoo kitten I have important business to attend. I don’t need you hanging around my shoulders.. You’re getting in the way.” Jerome stared at me his green eyes glimmering with anger and what I read to be hate. Nodding afraid I backed out of the room Jerome and the others were in. This new group of obsessed cultists that built Jerome up to be a god, having broken Jerome out of Arkham for the whole Bruce Wayne circus thing. Now he was just an uppity, cocky, brat! None of the Gotham officials knew where he was only the fact that he was gone. This made it so we could live fairly comfortably in the mansion of one of the cultists. 

At that moment they were all chatting about their great come-out called “Panic! under the disco” the name being a close rip-off but was accepted due to Jerome’s enthusiasm. Unimpressed I stormed back to the room Jerome and I shared slamming myself down on the bed weakly hitting one of the pillows.  Mockingly I insulted Jerome with childish remarks like “Rotten Ginger” and “Bitch baby blah blah blah” things he would probably not like to hear. “Oh darling!” He cried happily his footsteps coming down the same hallway I had just stormed down. I sat up acting happy “Yes Jerome?” I said pretending to be happy. He poked his head in the door smiling his usual wide smile. “Oh there you are” I watched him stroll confidently sitting down on the bed in front of me crossing his legs like a child. “I need you to put on the most ravishing and..” he came close to me whispering deeply. ‘and revealing” I smirked watching him put on his show of explaining that I was going to be the main bait. Great. I loved being bait. Like the good girl I am I nodded happily snooping around in the closet for my tight black dress that had crossed strings all the way down the dress stopping in an arrow just before my… girly parts. I absolutely despised wearing revealing clothes it made me feel unattractive and like a caged animal only there to let greasy eyes fantasize about the things they would like to do to me. Jerome watched me put on the dress smirking like an asshole. I carried on flicking my long black and purple hair behind my pale shoulders. walking into the bathroom that connected to the right of our walk in closet. 

Jerome didn’t follow only saying “We tango in five!” then left the room. I rolled my eyes applying my make-up faster then I was comfortable with. I settled with a mediocre smokey eye and the overrated winged eyeliner everyone and their grandma wore. When I was satisfied I grabbed a pair of black flat and ran barefoot out the door. I saw black SUV we used as transportation creeping down the driveway. Knowing Jerome would never have them stop for me I began to run at the van the gravel below my feet seeming to rip my sole to pieces. When I got close enough the back door swung open and I was able to dive in panting.  I heaved out of breathe looking at Jerome who sat smiling smudgy in the front seat. “I hope you brought other shoes doll, those flats just won’t do.” I looked down worried knowing that I was most likely going to be a cause of one of his legendary melt-downs. He sat up suddenly in his seat peering angrily at me. Without me being aware what was going on a par of heavy black heels was thrown at me striking me hard in the face. Jerome laughed clapping his hands. “Strike one!” turning his attention way from me to the road ahead. I held my stinging cheek breathing deeply to avoid crying. Jerome got off on tears, mine would only get him going more. He had become such an asshole ever since he had his face flailed off, just because he had come back from the dead and has all these new followers didn’t mean he was so high and mighty. I shook the thoughts away pulling on the heels. “Stop huffing and puffing dear it’s not attractive.” I glared at his face which was gazing still out the window. o my surprise he turned his head seeing my hateful glare. I dropped my head hoping he wouldn’t say anything, he didn’t having been interrupted the the SUV having it’s breaks slammed. 

Jerome bounced up and down excitedly in his chair. “Woo! you ready boys!” He slammed the drivers shoulder. They all jumped out hollering sneaking in through the back to go planting some bomb or do whatever they had planned for the nights festivities. I grunted opening the door and getting out. My ankles wobbled in the heels Jerome had struck me with due to their height and weight. I wandered up the side of the building towards the entrance. It was spray painted with cults and gang sighs, a type of art work that had seemed to be marking every corner of this city. I didn’t know how I felt about that to wbe honest, now I was no goody-goody I had killed more people than most war vets but still I imagined a mother holding her sons hands walking down the street, her son would smile and point to the bit of graffiti asking innocently ‘what is that mommy?’ she would only frown having a feeling that her sons infatuation could lead to involvement and then blam! death by gang member. I wouldn’t want my kids to end up this way. Coming around the front I spotted the doorman, he was young and handsome, easy to woo. I smiled walking up to him. “Gee it’s awful cold out. Do you mind if I step in and warm my hands.” Gently I swirled my hands around his belt feeling his heartbeat quicken. “Su-Sure step right in” I winked walking past him. “Thank you” I would make sure he would live on past tonight. Inside the club was the same as the rest of them baring music, flashing decorations, dumb young people blah, blah, blah. I made my way to the bar ordering three shots of tequila, salt on the rims or each. 

The bartender was quick and courteous serving me them up quick so I could down them all feeling the unwelcome burn of hard alcohol. I grimaced at the taste. I took money out of my bra and slid it a crossed the table thanking hi before turning around and mapping everything out. Jerome was no where to be seen only a mass of bobbing heads none of them having the fire red hair he did. I grew lonely at the thought of him not being around but then again I didn’t really ever want to see him when he was around. He had become to cruel ever since he came back to.. dead. almost. 

I squinted looking harder, nothing. “Hello miss?” I heard a smooth voice say. I turned to it looking at the face addressing me. He was a thin guy handsome strong jawline, thick black hair. I smiled “How-do-you-do?” I said politely warming up to the stranger. He blushed almost shocked to have my attention. “I’m doing goo-” he dropped his head embarrassed, chuckling to himself quietly. “The real reason I came over here was to ask you to dance. You’re so beautiful and.. alone. It do sent seem right” Now this sounds pathetic but my heart seemed to skip a little. He had the face of a kind hearted man that understood other struggles. I quivered a bit. “S-sure”  He led my carefully out to the dance floor reaching the far right corner where it wasn’t to crowded. We faced each other getting into a casual dancing routine, polite and friendly. Neither of us talked very much but we often exchanged looks smiling like fools whenever his happened. A part of me wanted to lay my head on his shoulders to feel his heart beat as well as the sway of his body, but I didn’t not wanting to ruin the moment. I opened my mouth to ask him his name but before I could get it out a voice cracked over the loud speakers. “Good evening ladies and gentleman what a great-” The voice cut out. Squinting i looked towards the speakers that seemed to be projecting the voice. Jerome was standing in top of the tallest speaker microphone in hand, DJ bleeding out next to him. Jerome’s stare seemed to radiate disgust and hate. “Oh Y/N?” he said in a matter of fact tone. I tugged on my new found friends shoulder urging him to leave with me. “Hey someone stop her!” Jerome yelled something like panic wavering in his voice. I grabbed onto the strangers hand harder pushing our way through the mass o confused people. 

None of his men could catch us so we were out of the club and out of sight by the time they reached the front door. “You need to get in your car and hurry home” The stranger nodded knowing who Jerome was. Before he turned to leave he closed in on my face slowly planting a warm kiss on my lips. I shivered this being the first compassionate kiss since.. well.. never? He walked away without saying another word leaving me out in the wet night air. I giggled like a little girl twirling around on the sidewalk until something cold stopped me. Cringing I knew exactly what it was.

 “Who’s your new boyfriend?” the voice writhed. Sighing I turned around “Jerome-” he cut me off with one finger grabbing my hand and leading me to the alleyway we had parked in. “Let’s talk doll?” Nervously I stopped dead in my track knowing this could end in one of his famous torture cessions. He glared back at me snarling. “I said let’s talk.” he yanked harder on my arm forcing me to follow behind. “ladies first” he said opening the passenger side door ushering me in with a big smile. Nervously I gt in feeling a bit relieved to be off my feet, He got in the drivers side silently fuming as he started p the car. I avoided his gaze instead focusing on the city lights that whizzed by. He headed in the direction of the home we were currently staying in., hopefully if all things went right we would hash out of anger in the bedroom between the satin sheets like we always had but I had a feeling this wasn’t going to be one of those times. We had just reached the gravel driveway when Jerome slammed on the breaks. He looked at me smiling sickly “I apologize I haven’t had my drivers license since.. well.. never!” he shrugged happily for a moment until his grin faded. He started the breathe heavily staring uncomfortably into my eyes. 

I tried to look away wanting to focus my attention on the night sky but his gaze held me still. We stayed put for a few seconds until in some fit of rage he pulled out a pistol and stuck it to my forehead. “ya know I should kill ya’ doll embarrassing me in front t of all those people?” he snaked towards me a mulishness grin overtaking his face, he was hurt though something in the deep part of his eyes told me so. I wanted to scream at him expressing how horrible he had been to me but that would only make him want to blast me even more so I took his cruelties. He stared st me not blinking until I nodded acknowledging him. Slowly he took the gun down looking out the front window chuckling to himself.

 I wiped a tear off of my cheek sneaking a look at him, his eyes were widened with the night sky, his fists pulsating on the steering wheel. Suddenly he began to laugh harder thrashing his fists and head off of the wheel yelling nonsense at no one in particular. He grabbed my hair pulling me closer to his face. Seething in my ear. “Why did you do this to me?” His hand shook as he held onto my hair. “I-I’m sorry I-” I shook my head slightly trying to loosen his grip but it was no use. “You will be sorry Kitten- I you were stronger than this” I opened myself up a little hoping to deescalate the situation. “You’re cruel to me Jerome. You treat me like one of your thugs that you can just throw around all you want. I’m not though and you know it.” He let go of my hair looking coldly into my eyes. “Since when have you become so entitled?” He asked ending with a horrible laugh. I rolled my eyes getting out of the SUV before getting out all the way though I chucked the blasted heels he had previously thrown at me. They hit him and he gasped, I didn’t see his reaction due to the door slamming him out of my view. 

I started walking the sound of the cold gravel crunched under my feet. I focused on the sound instead of the possibility of Jerome starting up the car and running me over. “Y/n wait!” I heard him yell beginning to jog after me. I started in a full run hoping to get far far away from him. His pace quickened behind me I was always a slow runner and plus he had shoes on so it wouldn’t be long until he caught up to me. Again I tried to focus on the night sky as I ran but it was no use the feeling of his hand latching onto my arm. “gotcha” he said  His fingernails dug into my skin, I winced at the pain kicking him as hard as I could in the shin. He growled loosing his balance and falling to the floor. I took off in a full sprint distracted when I heard him cock his gun behind me. I ducked hearing it fire three times. I stayed flat on the ground feeling the dust form the rocks get into my eyes. I blinked rapidly trying to rid myself of this pain. Jerome walked up to me sticking out his left hand, his gun still in the right. I grabbed it and he helped me up. “What is the matter with you?!” I said mad. 

He shrugged looking into my face. “You think?-” He shook his head looking for the right thing to say. “Look I haven’t been the nicest guy- I know- but seeing you kiss” He growled violently kicking rocks, “I dont want to talk about it! the point is- I’m sorry! Just stop doing this and be my doll again.” I was shocked at his words he looked defeated his face morphed in sadness. I nodded grabbing his hand.. “Why did you kiss him?” he said suddenly walking back to the car. I shrugged “I don’t know” he scoffed “I don’t know?, I don’t know!” His hand wrapped around my throat. “How do you not know. You act like it’s nothing but you don’t have to live with it. You don’t have to live with that-” he busted out laughing striking the car with his fists until his knuckles bled. Pan icing at the smudged blood on the car window I ran up behind him and hugged his waist as hard as I could hoping to calm him down. He stopped breathing heavily. “Oh doll you kill me” he said hopelessly. 

I unraveled my arms and grabbed his hand skipping the car ride home walking him the ten feet to the house. I opened the front door letting us both in. “Who was he? huh? Some stud? Business broker with his life in gold?” Hr groaned leaning up against the kitchen table that sat to the right of the door. I shrugged again saying ‘I don’t know’ he winced at my words flipping the table over. “Stop saying that! You’re my whole world and this is how you-” he laughed. I dropped my head all to be lifted up when he was quickly in front of me. “I need to speak with you in the bedroom.” He growled walking away. I grew excited watching his broad shoulders imagining them without the white button up shirt he was wearing. I smiled skipping behind him entering the bedroom just as he was sitting on the desk in front of his bed a devilish look on his face. He snake up to me whispering in my ear. “I’m going to make you forget all about him. I’m the only stud in your life. You got that Doll?” I nodded my hear pulsing in my head. 

His hands made their way up under my shirt, his skin cold on my body heat. I closed my eyes letting myself enjoy the sensation until my shirt was completely off. His lips kissed my neck smoothly while he continued to grip the rest. I sighed wishing he was always like this. His lips moved up to my ear, nibbling slightly on my earlobe. He began to whisper. “Don’t even hurt me again.” I opened my eyes sadness coming over my whole body until I saw him smirking as he left the room. “Jerome!” I yelled. IT took awhile for him to answer. “Sorry kitten things to do, places to be, doll snatchers to kill. But don’t worry” Jerome poked his head into the room smiling “I will be back when he’s dead” I shivered in excitement as his foot steps traveled down the hall again and out the front door. 

Thank you for reading all more to come Same Bat-Time, Same Bat-Channel!

Originally posted by kittycheshirestuff

Anywhere, Everywhere (Loki x Reader)

Note: It’s getting chilly now and this just popped into my head. Just another random Loki imagine; meeting him in a cafe on a cold winter’s day. 

Words: 1577

It was a cold, winter morning, the kind you loved. Your breath was visible in the freezing air. The grass was white with frozen dew, the bare branches holding thousands of tiny icicles. You felt chilled to the core, probably because you’d left your scarf and coat in your hallway, but you didn’t care. There really was nothing better than feeling truly cold.

As you walked briskly around the park, you couldn’t help but smile at the people that waddled around in their thick winter jackets. They all looked at you like you were mad for bracing this weather in nothing but jeans and a thin shirt - and they probably had a point. Soon, your fingers began to go numb and you knew it was time to change your course.

You diverted off the busy path down another road to your favourite cafe. As you entered the building, you were hit by the thick wave of hot air, courtesy of the heaters working on overdrive to keep the cold away. You couldn’t help but sigh; why did no-one appreciate the chill like you? Surely you couldn’t be the only one to hate the warm?

Spying your usual table in the corner by the window, you waved to the girl on the till and took your seat. Even though the cafe was full, people having flocked to the warmth it offered, she still recognised you through the crowd and immediately set about making your order. The pros of visiting every day meant the staff knew your order inside and out and you never had to wait in the queue.

You let your mind wander while you waited until your attention was drawn to the man entering. Your first thought was that he was tall. Very tall. After that, you took in the rest of his features, intrigued by what you saw. It wasn’t often you saw someone with eyes that green paired with long black hair - you wondered if he actually dyed it for that effect. He was hardly your normal type but on him the combination was stunning. He had a radiance about him that you could only compare to the formality of royalty.

His eyes flickered across the entire cafe, looking for a seat. They fell on the only empty space in the building; the chair opposite you at your table. You averted your gaze, even though he hadn’t been staring directly at you, and tapped your fingers on the table as you waited for the waitress to bring over your order.

               "May I?“ A male voice asked a few moments later.

You looked up into the deep green eyes of that gorgeous man and nodded cautiously. This wasn’t normal behaviour. You were British. You didn’t talk to strangers and you certainly didn’t ask to sit with them. Still, looking around at the rest of the people in the cafe, you decided you could certainly do worse for company.

You sat in silence and kept your gaze on the outside world, feeling far too awkward to start up conversation with the intriguing man that sat opposite you. It reached a point, though, where your curiosity was too much to bear and you let yourself sneak a look out of the corner of your eye. You caught his gaze and immediately turned away.

               "Here you go,” an overly cheerful waitress said, placing a cup of boiling hot chocolate (made with almond milk, heaps of sugar and topped with marshmallows) and a toasted ham and cheese sandwich (with extra cheese) in front of you. She turned to the mystery man and asked, “Anything for you?”

He eyed your food curiously and then, after a moment’s indecision, shook his head. “No, thank you.”

She gave you both another smile and disappeared, leaving you alone again.

Savouring the taste of your hot chocolate as it warmed you from the inside, you noticed the man once again eyeing your sandwich. With a sigh, you said, “If you want half, you need only ask. Go on, just take it.”

Feeling compelled to make conversation now that you were sharing food - or he was eating your lunch, same difference - you said, “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

               "Loki,“ the man told you, taking a bite into the sandwich. An appreciative look crossed his face, as if this were the first time he’d ever had such a food - but then who had never had a toasted ham and cheese sandwich before?

The name rang a bell somewhere in the back of your mind, you just couldn’t place it. Although annoying, you pushed the thought away and asked, "So, what are you doing round here? Live nearby?”

               "Just visiting,“ he answered vaguely. "You?”

               "I only live round the corner. It’s a bit of a ritual to come here after a walk through the park.“

Loki’s eyebrows crumpled into a small frown as he looked at your clothes and then to the back of your chair. "You often walk in this weather without a coat?”

You shrugged, feeling the familiar judgement. You took another sip of your drink and answered enthusiastically, “I like the cold. It makes me feel more alive. It’s invigorating being able to feel the blood pump around your body. I guess you’re one of those people that prefers the warm?”

               "No, actually.“

               "You’re in luck then. Apparently it’s one of the coldest days here since records began.” Of course, minus ten could hardly match the record temperatures of the Antarctic but it was naturally causing mayhem anyway. You could understand why people thought you strange to go out without real protection against the elements but the five minute walk from your apartment would hardly kill you - at least, it hadn’t done yet. “What do you think of our glorious city, then? How long are you staying?”

               "Just today,“ he said, finishing off the half of the sandwich. You weren’t sure why, but the fact that he was leaving so soon made you sad. "As for your city…”

You let out a laugh, putting down your drink and tearing a small section off of your half of the sandwich. “Yeah, it’s dull. I know. I keep meaning to go out and see the world but there never seems time.”

               "Make time.“

               "Easier said than done…” you sighed, ripping off another chunk of the sandwich. Not really hungry, you offered the rest to Loki. “Have you travelled far?”

A small smile caught the edge of his lips, mischievous and somehow knowing as if in on a great secret I’d never be parry to. “You could say that. Where do you want to go?”

               "Anywhere. Everywhere.“

               "How telling… Be specific,” he groaned. “Where do you most wish to visit?”

You shrugged. Like everyone, you had a list of places you wanted to see; the great wonders and tourist destinations of the world. The pyramids. Rome. Aztec temples. The Caribbean. You wanted to see it all but were stuck at home with a crappy job that would never fund such luxurious travels. Out of nowhere, another destination came to mind. “Sark.”

               "Never heard of it.“

               "It’s a tiny island in the Channel. It’s nothing special but at night there’s no light. Everyone turns everything out. In true darkness you can see the Milky Way with the naked eye.” You weren’t sure why you were telling a stranger this, after all he was probably bored stiff and just being polite, but something about him made you think he might actually care. “It’s supposed to be breathtaking. I heard about it on the radio one day and have wanted to go ever since.”

               "You should go,“ Loki told you, keeping with his emerging trend of short, to the point responses.

               "One day I will,” you said, knowing you probably never would. “But for now, I have to stay put and work. Speaking of, I should be heading off. I’ve got a meeting this afternoon that I can’t miss.”

Loki stood with you and you felt even shorter than normal, standing beside him. “Thank you for sharing your lunch with me.”

You gave him a smile and told him it was nothing. “Thanks for keeping me company. Have a good life, Loki.”

You went over to the counter to pay and by the time you’d tapped your card on the reader your lunchtime companion was gone. You pulled out your phone as you stepped into the freezing cold and googled Loki, trying to work out why you knew the name. When the search came up with a Norse god you almost laughed. Who would name their child after a god of mischief and lies?!

Shivering as the chill began to seep into your bones, you shook out your limbs and powered back through the park to your home.

A few days later, a thick envelope came through your letterbox. You opened it up curiously and stared in amazement at the contents: tickets for a private boat to Sark; confirmation of a cottage for a week on the so-called dark island and a few hundred pounds in cash. There was a short, handwritten note included too that read:

The world waits for no-one, important meetings or otherwise. Lunch is on me next time.

It wasn’t signed but even you could take a guess as to who it was from. A smile on your face, you found yourself wondering just how soon “next time” would be.

@archy3001 @marvel-fanfiction @aekr

Essays in Existentialism: The Blakes III

Hey I loved the second part of the Blakes. When ever you get a chance can you maybe continue it? That’s of course if you have time. Thank you!! :)

Previously on The Blakes

The winter that came was long and unforgiving. For Clarke, it was an apt metaphor for the cold war that existed with her brother; neither flinching, neither blinking, neither backing down or making any moves at all. Instead, the winter just stayed, refused to thaw, and the siblings continued much the same.

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domestic dad promptis bliss

There is one thing in this world that Noctis Lucis Caelum loves as much as Prompto Argentum, and that is sleep. A good, solid, eight plus hours a night. It’s pretty much essential to his existence. Being king, sometimes he doesn’t get it, and he’s always miserable when he’s running on sleep deprivation and stress, to the point where Prompto’s usually guiding him off to bed, forging Noct’s signature on the last of the paperwork and calling Ignis to reschedule early morning meets to a more Noctis-appropriate time.

Right now, Noct and his true love, sleep, are very much at odds.

It’s three in the morning, and the baby is crying.

“Fuck,” Noctis grumbles. He buries his face in Prompto’s shoulder and refuses to open his eyes.

“ ‘s your turn,” Prompto groans, reaching for the pillow and tugging it over his own head. Noct’s well aware that it’s his turn. Some nights that are especially bad, Prompto will take over and let him sleep. Prompto was up all last night with the prince, though, and it’s definitely, no excuses, Noct’s turn.

“Think he’ll stop?” Noct asks, voice thick with sleep.

The sobs turn louder, more frantic, and Prompto nudges back against Noctis, “dude, he’s awake, I swear Noct if you make me get up…”

Noctis groans, and he’s pretty sure he could roll over and go back to sleep if he really wanted to. He’s capable of sleeping through pretty much anything. It’s a gift, really. A blessing. But Noct’s paternal instincts have kicked into overdrive, and even though he really wants to go back to sleep, he can’t.

And really, even though Noctis loves sleep almost as much as Prompto, his husband wins out. Every goddamn time.

“ ‘m going,” Noctis sighs. He leans in to press his lips to Prompto’s shoulder, the arm around his waist curling in a half-hug, and then he’s disentangling and crawling out of bed.

Their son’s crib is in a little attached room in the royal chambers. Even though Noct’s magic has shifted some, with his ascension and subsequent return, he still sees better in the dark than most. The nightlight – chocobo themed, because of course it is – casts pale yellow shadows across the blue walls.

“Shh,” Noctis says, dipping down over the side of the crib. His back aches with the effort of it, the wounds that skewed straight through him never really fully healed. The pain is a small price to pay, miniscule in exchange, and easily set aside as Noct gently lifts the baby into his arms.

There’s a little jolt of magic, something that’s manifested in the tiny baby, the future heir to the throne, to an entire goddamn new world of light, and it’s comforting. It has Noctis sighing, like a deep-seated, primal urge has been sated, having the tiny boy in his arms. It seems, too, to comfort and quiet the baby, because the great, heaving sobs gently ebb, fading into a quiet cooing noise as Noctis carefully cradles him up pressed against his chest, the baby’s head tucked under his chin.

“It’s okay,” he says, quiet, in a soft voice. Noct’s always been good with babies. They’ve always been easier to deal with than people who talk back. And he likes kids – they see the world in a raw, beautiful way. It reminds Noctis of his earlier days, so long ago. Before he got hurt, the first time. Before his dad was worn too thin by the crystal. Before he felt so alone.

“Dad’s here,” Noctis murmurs, and the baby coos in the response, a tiny, fat little hand reaching up, cupping at the scruff of his beard and making him laugh a little. “You don’t ever have to be alone. We’re here.”

There’s a bit of a lilt to his step, a comforting sway as Noctis shuffles across the room. He nudges the curtains aside to look out over Insomnia. The rebuild is slow, but the night is lit up bright with the stars and the moon, and the city lights from the portion that’s already been inhabited again, been brought back from the crumbling ruin they’d found it in only a couple of years back.

Noctis leans his shoulder against the window, and he sighs. His head tips down, and he presses a kiss into the delicate, impossibly soft black curls of his son’s head. The baby makes a quiet, gurgling sound in response, against his skin, and Noctis smiles. He’s exhausted, his eyes half-closed, but he’s content. On his finger, the silvery wedding band catches the moonlight. Around his neck, from the chain where the ring used to hang, there’s a little, gold chocobo pendant.

“C’mon, feather-butt,” Noctis teases, quiet, as he finds the energy to move, to lift his half-closed eyes from the cityscape, and he cradles the baby close as he heads into the kitchen of their quarters, “dad’s tired. Bet you are, too. Let’s get you a snack.”

After he’s warmed up a bottle and laid their son back to sleep, Noctis crawls into bed. His eyes are burning with the effort of staying open, and he tucks an arm around Prompto’s waist again, burying his face in the crook of his husband’s neck and breathing in the scent of him.

Prompto sighs, and a hand shifts to cover Noct’s, their fingers twining.

“Thanks,” Prompto mumbles sleepily, “for getting him. For being here.” It’s a half-awake confession, talking about something deeper, something they’ve said a thousand times over now, and it’s not something they need to say anymore. It still resonates in Noct though, has him feeling warm, happy, pushing past the aching scars that mar his chest and his back. It’s everything.

“Go back to sleep,” Noctis replies with a smile, with a kiss pressed into Prompto’s skin, “love you, Prom.”

Circumstance (Part 4)

Sorry for the wait! I made it extra long though ;)

Tagging: @autumn03 @readinggiraffe @rhysandpurred @crazybookladythings (let me know if you want to be tagged in future parts!)

Rowaelin daughter x Feysand son

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6

When Ember wakes up the next day, there is almost no one on the street outside the window. The sun is only just raising above the mountainous skyline and from what Feyre told her last night, she’s sure that morning is probably the slowest time in the Night Court. Carefully, Ember folds the nice smelling blanket and sets it on the meticulous bed that she hasn’t even sat on yet.

Pulling some fresh clothes out of her suitcase, Ember puts her hair up and glances in the mirror once. It was nearing winter in Terrasen when she left so her collection of clothes are mostly long-sleeved and warm. In Velaris however, it seems incredibly warm outside, and Ember knows that she will probably have to find something else to wear.

Only Feyre, Rhysand, and the Morrigan are downstairs, all chatting around the island in the kitchen. “Good morning, Ember,” Rhys greets when he sees her hesitating in the doorway. His eyes meet hers and Ember has to take a step back in surprise. Having the dream so recently brought the violet color to the forefront of her mind and she is shocked to see such similar orbs in real life for the first time. Rhys’ eyes however, are just off, the ones in her dream just a bit more blue than his.

The adults don’t seem to notice her shock, however, and the Morrigan skitters over to her excitedly. “Time for a girls day out!” She exclaims, looping her arm through Ember’s elbow. The girl stares at her, wide-eyed.

“Don’t break her, Mor, her parents expect her home in one piece.” Rhys reminds his cousin with a small smirk.

The Morrigan winks. “No promises.” It does not help Ember’s nervousness.

“Have fun!” Feyre calls as the woman pulls Ember out of the room.

The Morrigan is practically skipping as they make their way onto the sparse street. “We’ll grab some food on the way to the tailor.” She tells Ember.

“The tailor, Morrigan?” The princess wonders, barely able to keep up with the woman’s fast pace.

The Morrigan groans. “Do not call me that. It’s just Mor.” Ember nods. “We gotta get you some Night Court attire or you’ll stick out like a sore thumb. Everyone already knows that a princess is visiting, we don’t need them all staring at your clothes too.”

Ember’s face heats. She looks down at her clothes and compares it to the people around her, realizing that her tunic and thick pants really do contrast with the thin and baggy attire of others. “Well, um, okay…”

“Great! I know just the place.”

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