#if you see me at any point during this do the polite thing and nod towards me before minding your own business 😽

[ettadunham]

forgot to update my age, whoops, anyway, i am now what we call a christ age 🥉🥉✌

[melzula]

Can you please write jealous Zuko? It can be however you like😊

a/n: i love jealous zuko! however this ended up being more angsty than i intended😭 hope you enjoy!

summary: a party at the palace leads to a deep revelation for zuko

He was miserable.

The palace didn’t throw parties very often these days, but the recent conquering of another Earth colony was deemed a call for celebration, and so all of the noble families in the Capital City were invited to attend. A grand feast was held and praises were showered upon Ozai throughout the night. It was one of the rare times Zuko didn’t have to worry about his father’s wrath, and so he should have been enjoying himself.

But he couldn’t, not when he could see that across the way another boy was flirting with you right in front of him.

You were Zuko’s everything- his childhood best friend that he’d always held harbored feelings for. During his banishment he thought of you constantly, and upon his arrival he immediately asked you to be his girlfriend. You were sweet and friendly, easily approachable and always able to cheer him up despite his moodiness, you were perfect. And apparently this other boy could see this too.

You smile out of politeness and nod along to the boy’s rambling story about his fire bending skills and high IQ, not very interested in listening but too nice to brush him off. It infuriates Zuko to see someone else take advantage of your kindness, and he’s unable to just sit back and watch any longer.

A harsh hand lands upon the boy’s shoulder, startling both of you in the process. Zuko’s eyes are blazing with fury, his palm scorching the fabric of the boy’s robes and scaring the spirits out of him in the process.

“Can’t you take a hint? She doesn’t want to talk to you!” the Prince bellow angrily, prompting a few guests nearby to turn their heads curiously towards the commotion. A bit embarrassed at the sudden attention, you gently pull Zuko’s hand away and drag him out to the gardens before he can escalate the situation any further. The last thing you need is for him to cause a scene at his father’s party.

“What?” Zuko says defensively as you wordlessly walk through the palace hallways. “I was helping you!”

“You were acting jealous again,” you chide gently.

“No I wasn’t!” He argues defensively only to shrink under your pointed gaze. “…I was.”

“I love you, Zuko, but I don’t love how jealous you can get sometimes. I’m your girlfriend, don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I do!” He interjects quickly, almost offended at the notion.

“Then what is it? Why do you act this way?”

Zuko is silent, his eyes casted sullenly to the floor as you patiently wait for his answer. You take his hands in your own and give them a reassuring squeeze to let him know you’re there for him, and the act seems to coax him out of his stupor.

“I’m afraid you’ll change your mind about being with me, and once the right guy comes along you’ll realize you’re better off without me,” he admits quietly, almost ashamed to voice the thought out loud.

“Zuko…” you utter sadly, heartbroken at the fact that he could even believe such a thing.

“Why do you want to be with a boy who’s been exiled from his own country before? Whose own father burned his face? Who’s so messed up in every way possible?”

Gently carefully cupping his face in your hands, you tilt his head upward to meet your sincere gaze. His eyes are glossy with tears he refuses to let fall, and your heart aches for the poor boy before you. You wish you could take away all of his hurt in agony, but you can’t, so you do your best to take away his insecurity instead.

“I wish you could yourself the way I see you,” you tell him lovingly. “You are more than enough for me, more than I could ever ask for. You’re strong, you’re brave, you’re smart. You’re you. I love you, Zuko. No one’s ever going to get into the way of that.”

He says nothing in response but simply yanks you into his arms for the tightest hug you’ve ever possibly received. You know he isn’t the best at words or emotions, but his embrace conveys that he is grateful for every word to come out of your mouth.

He knows he may be jealous at times, but he also knows that he doesn’t have to be anymore.

Because you’re not going anywhere.

| atla tags: @sirkekselord @niktwazny303

| zuko tags: @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @taeeemin

[bluejeanstrash]

inspired by this and this (sfw)

tags: idol! seungcheol x idol! reader, reader is a certified brat, brat taming, seungcheol and reader are hooking up, use of oppa and hyung, suggestive conversation | wc: 1.4k

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

seungcheol swears he’s mistaken when he hears the first paparazzi call your name. but there it is again, and again, and by the time the crowd is screaming hysterically, he’s sure it must be you. he turns around as he’s being escorted into the venue to see you on the red carpet, waving to the cameras, posing with a poise only a professional idol has. you look jaw-droppingly good, and he curses at the fact that he only got to see you for two seconds.

things work out in his favour though. he reaches his table to see a place card with your name on it. idols seated together. not a bad marketing decision.

unlike the vibrant red carpet, the inside of the venue is dim, a velvety purple hue painting the room, and there’s a dj whose set suits seungcheol’s taste. it’s nice being here after months of hiatus, and it would be even nicer if you’d get here quicker. your group and seventeen were contemporaries, and pretty good friends, though in the public eye it seemed like you’d barely interacted. everyone wanted to keep it that way.

finally, after what feels like hours, you walk in, heads turning as you make your way to the table. he checks you out, slowly this time, blown away by just how incredible you look. your dress is sensual yet subtle, and his hands are itching to feel the fabric, and you under it. you’re a few steps away when you pause, spotting him, equally surprised to see him here. you would rarely cross paths during schedules, so this was unusual.

respectful bows are exchanged before you take a seat. a waiter comes by to drop off glasses of champagne, and you take that as an opportunity to check seungcheol out. all black everything with faded auburn hair looks very sexy on him. you make a quick decision about what you want him to do to you in this outfit.

‘i didn’t know you were attending. just you?’ he asks politely, in stark contrast to how impolitely he'd fucked you the last time you met.

‘just me. just you?’

‘and wonwoo. wonwoo!’ seungcheol waves him down as wonwoo makes his way to the table, taking a seat to your other side.

‘hyung, they need you for some solo press’ he informs and seungcheol is escorted away by his manager.

in the 10 to 15 minutes that seungcheol’s gone, you make small talk with wonwoo, touching on agency-approved topics like comebacks, dance challenges, and the like. topics that wouldn’t cause an internet meltdown when someone would inevitably zoom into your lips and try to breakdown every word being said.

what you’d actually been dying to discuss with wonwoo was his latest fling, and why he’d ghosted them, but that’s filed away for another day.

seungcheol returns with a second drink in his hand, and message for wonwoo ‘wonwoo-ya, they’re calling you now. do well’ he encourages like always.

seungcheol takes a seat beside you, close enough to dispel any negative rumours and far enough to not get pulled into dating ones.

‘have you finished press?’

‘what?’ you lean forward, the music too loud to speak at a distance. he does the same, almost placing his hand on your thigh but he catches himself in the last second, closing his palm into a loose fist and resting it on the table. seungcheol repeats his question, and you nod. yes, you’re done with press.

‘there are way too many cameras here’ he recognises a few fans who run his biggest fansites, all “discreetly” pointing huge DSLRs in his direction. he has to be careful not to accidentally touch you. not to do something that makes both your names start trending tonight.

‘are you done with schedule? what are you doing after this?’ he gives your dress a once over, trying to figure out how to undo it. there’s a complicated knot at the back which makes him eager to try.

the corners of your mouth curl into a playful smile before you take a sip of the bubbly. the sparkling gold goes down easy, and your words come out smooth,

‘you’

his eyes widen as the gulp of champagne he’s taking enters the wrong pipe, sending him into a tiny coughing fit. his eyes dart around the room to see if anyone caught that.

he takes another sip to recover, regaining any composure lost. then he leans in, plump cherry lips brushing against your ear ‘don’t say shit like that when we’re in public or i swear to god’

he sits back, adjusting the fall of his suit, and runs his fingers nervously through his thick hair which bounces right back into place.

this time you lean in completely, seungcheol refusing to meet you halfway, your earrings dangling with the motion ‘or what? what’s oppa going to do to me? punish me for being bad?’ you have a dangerous lilt in your tone that makes his dick throb.

‘stop. it.’ he mouths a warning. as if that has ever made a difference.

to seungcheol’s surprise, you had turned out to be quite a handful. you were different from your idol image. same, but different. he’d liked you instantly when you’d met outside work at his manager’s party and one thing led to another till you both had hooked up. he couldn’t believe it. you were two of his favourite things — a brat and a nasty slut combined into one gorgeous woman, and seungcheol wouldn’t have it any other way.

though, right now he could, because at this moment you were a pain in the ass and a throb in his dick, both of which he couldn’t afford. it’s not like he could refuse to engage in conversation with you. how bad would that look? so he stays still, listening to whatever lewd filth you’re whispering into his ear.

‘oppa, you know that thing you said you wanted to try with me? you wanted to put it inside my…while you turned on the vibrator in my other hole? can we try it? please?’ you leave your words vague, his imagination running wild. he’s going to kill you. it can’t get any worse, he thinks, but then the music changes.

an rnb song. no, an rnb song that’s no. 24 on your blended spotify sex playlist. in a biological reaction that would make pavlov proud, his cock starts to stiffen in his pants from the very first note. he catches your eye, looking away instantly. this is bad. this is very bad.

in an attempt to hide the tent that’s pitching in his pants, seungcheol crosses one leg over the other, taking further precautions to cover his crotch with a drape of his arms. it’s clear to you what’s happening, and if it wasn’t obvious enough he starts bouncing his knee, moving it a million times a minute. he’d read somewhere it gets rid of an unwanted erection, but it seems to be doing jack shit.

you lean back, amused, smoothing a flyaway hair, and elegantly throw your sleek locks over your shoulder to reveal a hint of your cleavage. seungcheol has spent a lot of time in there — kissing, licking, sucking…and shooting cum on that strip of skin. you know what you’re doing. he knows what you’re doing. the waiter who just walked past knows what you’re doing. seungcheol makes a mental note to tell his manager not to book you both at the same event ever again.

he tears his gaze away from your chest, focusing on the table in front of him. how many overlapping stitches can he see? he counts.

but you’re not done yet. no, you want him riled up and pissed off. you want that vein in his neck to pop. you wonder if you can run the risk of sliding your foot up his leg. probably not, and yet a second later the point of your heel slides up the inner seam of his pants, making him jump in his chair.

his jaw clenches, his neck tightens ‘that’s enough, you fucking brat’ he spits, forgetting to lean in or hide his mouth.

you grin impishly, taking a congratulatory sip of your champagne. he doesn’t know this but you’re soaking wet, your panties sticking uncomfortably to your cunt. riling him up always made you leak arousal in anticipation for the impending punishment.

unfortunately, before you can get a teaser of what’s to come, wonwoo returns, walking alongside your manager. you’ve done your part, made your appearance, and it’s time to leave, he says. you say your goodbyes, first to wonwoo, and then turn to seungcheol who lets out a small huff of air before standing up. he smiles for the cameras and bows, glaring at you as you lock eyes and whispers,

‘you’re in so much trouble’

[im-a-killer-queen]

Yesterday I saw Aquaman and the lost kingdom and I fell in love with Orm again so I’m gonna leave this here.

Orm Marius x Reader

Warnings: no proof read, fem!reader, curly!hair!reader, chubby!reader.

Author note: I think I’m gonna start writing more about him, there are barely any fics of him and he deserves them.

So i head canon that as an evolution trait under the water, no one in Atlantis has curly hair, because of the friction and all of that.

So imagine the first time Orm goes to the surface after helping Arthur.

He is walking, admiring the view, completely mesmerized when his eyes meets you.

Your hair is the first thing his eyes see, and he is curious about it, he walks towards you like he was in a trance.

He looks at your face and he swears he has never seen someone as beautiful and exotic as you.

He admires your plush thighs and tummy, your body is different from any Atlantean woman, he is used to slim bodies and looking at yours felt like looking at a work of art.

Before he knew it he was in front of you, staring at you shinny eyes.

You look around and then at him.

“E-excuse me, are you okay?” At first you were scared, now that he was close you didn’t feel that he was a threat but still, you felt a bit uncomfortable.

He suddenly comes back to reality and takes a step back.

“I apologize, didn’t want to bother you, just…” he took air, you were talking to him and your voice was more beautiful than any siren song.

“You are beautiful” he breathed out in a whisper.

“Sorry?”

He chuckles awkwardly “It’s just… I’m lost” he finally gets himself together “Im new here and just wanted to ask for your help but… it’s just…” he points at you hair.

Your hand flies there, to see if everything is okay “is there something wrong with my hair?”

“No!” You get startled “it’s… different” you frown in confusion “the form, you know…” he moves his finger in circular motions.

“My curls?” You ask?

“Yes, I’ve never seen that before”

“Really? I mean not everyone has them but…” you stop and chuckle “are you trying to flirt with me or something?”

“Flirt?” He looked like a lost puppy.

You shake your head.

“Never mind” you say “where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere I can buy a greasy cheese burger” he smiles

You chuckle.

“There is a good place in the seafront”

He nods slowly, still staring at you.

You stare back and turn you head a bit to try and make him realize he is staring.

He comes back to reality once more and he closes his eyes a bit ashamed then chuckle.

“I’m sorry… again, I just really like you hair, I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable”

“It’s okay” You laugh, he is very strange but he is polite and he just seems genuinely lost.

“I’ll show you the place”

“That would be great” he smiles.

After five minutes walking you get there, he apologized one more time during the walk and told you he was gonna stay around for a few weeks.

Once you got there you told him to give you his number.

“My… number?”

“Yes, phone number”

“I don’t have that”

“Oh” you look around not knowing what to say.

“You live in the village?” He asks.

“Yes” you smile.

“I’ll see you around then” he says determined.

“See you”

You leave him there and go back to your life.

You thought you would never see him again and it would end like a weird and funny story to tell your friends.

Little did you know that atalantis prince was completely smitten for you.

He was ready to swallow all his pride and ask Arthur for help so he doesn’t seem like a creepy weirdo again.

He knew you were his favorite thing in the surface and he was going to marry you.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Love strategy p.4

Hii guyss, I hope you enjoy part 4, if you have missed part 3 here it is :)

After Lando drives you to your hotel, you make your way to Carlos's room, focusing on the work at hand. You knock, waiting for the familiar sight of Carlos to greet you.

But when the door swings open, it’s not Carlos who stands in front of you—it’s his latest girlfriend, her expression unreadable, though her stance seems less than welcoming.

"Hey, sorry to bother you," you begin politely, forcing a smile, "but I need to talk to Carlos about his schedule and interviews for tomorrow."

Her eyes narrow slightly, and she doesn’t open the door any wider. "Couldn't you do this later? Or, I don’t know, just send him a message or something. We were… in the middle of something."

You try not to let her cold response get to you, but before you can reply, Carlos’s voice drifts from behind her. "Who's at the door?"

She rolls her eyes but steps aside just enough for Carlos to come into view. He spots you and waves you inside with a casual, "Come on in."

You walk into the room, feeling a bit awkward under his girlfriend's lingering stare. Carlos notices your unease but seems oblivious to the tension. "What's up?" he asks, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Why didn’t you tell me about this on the plane?"

You blink, momentarily taken aback. "Carlos," you say slowly, "I didn’t fly with you. I was on a different plane."

He looks confused for a second, clearly trying to piece things together. "Wait… you didn’t? I didn’t even realize."

A flicker of disappointment tugs at your chest, but you brush it off. "Yeah, I flew with someone else," you say, your tone neutral as you shift focus to work. "Anyway, I just wanted to give you a heads-up for tomorrow. You’ve got the usual interviews in the morning, and you need to film a video with Charles after that. Also, you and Charles are filming a collaboration with McLaren tomorrow afternoon."

Carlos nods, processing the information, though he still looks a little distracted. "Right, got it. Thanks."

But as you finish, the awkward tension in the room only intensifies. His girlfriend is sitting on the bed now, watching you with a thinly veiled irritation, like your presence is an unwelcome intrusion. You feel the weight of her stare, and suddenly, the air in the room feels thick, stifling.

"I should go," you say quickly, stepping back toward the door. "I’ll see you tomorrow."

Carlos looks up, but he doesn’t argue. "Yeah, see you."

As you slip out of the room and back into the hallway, you release a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

You head straight to your own room, shutting the door behind you. Between Lando, the unexpected airport headline, and now the icy reception from Carlos's girlfriend, it’s been a long day. All you want now is some peace and quiet.

But just as you’re starting to unwind, your phone buzzes from across the room. You sigh, standing up to grab it, half-expecting it to be another work-related message. Instead, it’s Lando.

Lando: Hey, how’s it going? Lando: Surviving over there with the Ferrari crew?

A small smile tugs at your lips as you read his message. You quickly type back.

You: Barely. Had a lovely chat with Carlos’s girlfriend. You: How about you?

It only takes a few seconds for Lando to reply.

Lando: Oof, sounds intense. I’m sure you handled it well. Lando: So, listen—I’ve been thinking. Tomorrow, during the interview McLaren’s doing with Ferrari… maybe we should just, you know, drop the news then?

Your heart skips a beat as you stare at the message. He’s talking about going public with your "relationship" during one of the most high-profile interviews of the weekend. It makes sense, but the thought of it being so… public, especially with both teams involved, makes your stomach twist in nervousness.

You: Tomorrow? You: In front of everyone? Isn’t that kind of… a big deal?

Lando sends back a laughing emoji.

Lando: Isn’t that the point? Gotta make it look convincing, right?

You bite your lip, anxiety fluttering in your chest. You knew this was part of the plan, but now that it’s so close, the reality is setting in. You type back hesitantly.

You: Yeah, I get it. I’m just… nervous. It’s a lot.

A moment passes before Lando responds, and when he does, it’s with his usual playful tone.

Lando: Don’t worry, I’ve got your back. We’ll drop it casually, like it’s no big deal. Lando: I’ll just say something like, “Yeah, we’re dating. No biggie. Now let’s talk about the race!” 😎

You can’t help but laugh out loud at that, the image of Lando casually announcing something so major with that level of nonchalance easing some of your nerves.

You: You’re impossible, Norris. You: But seriously, what if I mess it up?

His response is quick, and this time it’s more reassuring.

Lando: You won’t. Besides, I’m nervous too. This whole thing is crazy, but we’ll make it work.

It helps to know that even Lando, who seems so effortlessly confident, is feeling the pressure too.

You: Fine, let’s do it. But if it goes terribly, I’m holding you responsible.

Lando: Deal. But trust me, it’ll be great. See you tomorrow!

You set your phone down, a small smile lingering on your face despite the lingering nervousness. Tomorrow is going to be a big day, and the thought of stepping into that interview with Lando, letting the world believe in this staged relationship, makes your heart race. But somehow, knowing that he’s just as anxious as you—and still managing to joke about it—makes it feel a little less overwhelming.

Here's part 5

Tag list: @abq654 , @spaceflowergal, @mads94sworld, @anewpersonthatexists, @qlovalova, @itsskavya, anaferreira-4, @willowsnook, @larastark3107, @blueberry648579, @luckyangelballoon, @runs-with-sciss0rs, @gtwdahhh, @edsmunsonsgirl

[axelsagewrites]

Where Am I?*Part Two

Pairing: modern!f!reader x (to be determined...) Ubbe, Ivar, Sigurd, Hviserks, Bjorn

Series Summary: After falling head first the reader wakes up face to face with a group of strangely dressed men who look eerily like the vikings she studies

Word count: 3026

Part one here

Masterlist Here

Warnings: time travel being possible, getting chased by vikings, imprisonment

The only thing that was stopping you from going insane so far was Ivar. He’d stayed true to his word and brought you bread and meat later that night which you devoured in seconds, suddenly realising how hungry you were. However, he also brought you mead which was a welcome blessing. But Ivar couldn’t leave it there. He had practically a thousand questions.

You did your best to answer them, but you didn’t exactly have all the wars and political events from the early Viking age to your time memorised to be able to answer them. The company however was refreshing. You’d been in this cage for three days now. Well, that’s what he told you anyway.

Ivar had visited you at least three times a day so far. Ubbe stopped by each day, sometimes with either of the other brothers, but always with a small hunk of bread and soup.

“Here,” he told you this morning as he passed it through the bars though this time, he was alone. He sighed as he watched you take it. “Will you tell me your name?” you had yet to speak to any of the other brothers and Ivar was determined to keep your conversations a secret it seems. “Do you understand me?” Ubbe asked as you bit into the bread.

He pointed to himself, “Ubbe,” he said, jabbing his chest. “My name is Ubbe. What is,” he pointed at you, “yours?”

“Ubbe,” you said pointing at him. he looked shocked that you could speak which made it hard for you not to chuckle, but you supposed that wouldn’t please him.

“Yes,” he smiled, pointing at himself again, “Ubbe. You?” he pointed at you again. You finally decided to give in and tell him your name, “What an unusual name,” he murmured before someone began to call for him. Aslaug you thought. She hadn’t visited you once since your last meeting, but you were oddly grateful for that. “I go now,” he said pointing to himself then the door. “You stay here. I will be back,” he went to leave but paused to add, “We don’t want to hurt you, but we can’t let you go. Not just yet,”

As if you could leave, you wanted to say but you bit your tongue. You weren’t sure how much time had passed between Ubbe leaving and Ivar creeping into the room, but you were grateful to see him, nonetheless.

This time he brought you chicken which was a welcomed gift. “How old are you?” he asked as you ate the food. You told him as you finished the meat, sitting the bone in the bowl. You grimaced however as you moved. “Are you okay? did someone hurt you?” he asked, an anger flaring behind his eyes.

You tried to calm it quickly, “No. only Ubbe visits with food but he never stays long. it just hurts sitting still for so long. my back aches,”

Ivar nodded, seemingly processing and debating something in his mind, “I could let you out,” he offered, though quickly adding, “but you cannot leave. If you do, they will find you. but I could let you move around,”

“Really?” you said desperately, clinging to the bars, “Oh Ivar even just 10 minutes to stretch my legs would do me the wonder of good,”

Ivars eyes narrowed for a moment as he eyed you up and down, “I will let you out,” he finally decided, “but don’t be fooled. I may be a cripple, but I am not dumb,”

“Of course, you’re not dumb Ivar,” you said, honestly a bit shocked by how casually he called himself that.

He nodded, cautiously moving to unlatch the cage. You waited until he shuffled back to let yourself out. You sighed as you stood up, stretching and hearing your joints pop as you did so. “That feels amazing,” you sighed, moving your legs around. “Thank you, Ivar,”

When he visited now, he would let you out during it, staying for longer each time so you could relax your legs. Two more days passed before Ragnar would return. The news came while Ivar was visiting you.

“Ivar! Where are you?” you heard Aslaug call out.

“Go!” he whispers yelled at you, urging you to get back in the cage. You did so quickly, shutting the door, “I’ll be back,” he said, rushing to the door to find his mother before she found him.

However, as the door shut behind him you realised. He hadn’t locked it.

-

At least an hour had passed, and he still had not returned. The cage lay unlocked. You listened carefully for any noises outside but there was none. Your eyes fell to where your bags sat in the corner. Carefully you opened the cage and crept out.

You padded over to the front door, your legs still feeling stiff as you did so. Pushing it open slightly you peered out. You barely stepped outside as you surveyed the area. You were in a hut on what looked like the near outskirts of town. There were a few other huts around, all bigger than this one, however no one else was here.

Behind you was a forest thick with trees, in front of you was a cliff edge where you could see the classic Viking style boats sailing in. you knew if you went left and followed the path you’d likely end up at the docks or somewhere else populated with Vikings.

You crept back inside and quickly grabbed your bag and opened it. just from going through it quickly you realised it hadn’t been touched. Perhaps they’d been too frightened of what it was to attempt it. you quickly zipped your backpack and put it over your shoulders. You grabbed your guitar bag and put the long strap over your shoulder before creeping back out the hut.

Now that you had stretched your legs there was no way you could go back in that god forsaken cage. Instead, you decided to take the risk and try the forest again. Maybe somehow, you’d trip and hit your head hard enough to snap out of this hellish nightmare.

However, as you went through the woods you realised just how tired your body was from sitting in one position for so long plus the sun was beginning to set. After walking for what you guessed was half an hour you decided to take a break for the night by a small lake you found. You dumped your bags on the ground and sat down on the dirt and sighed a breath of relief. You were free, for now at least.

-

Ubbe’s pov.

“It’s a good thing fathers back,” he said to his brother Hvitserk who raised an eyebrow at him, “That girl. We can’t keep her like that much longer,” he sighed as he watched his mother talk with his father presumably about the girl judging by their concerned faces.

“She’ll be fine brother,” Sigurd said, “For all we know she’s a witch,”

“I don’t think she is,” Hvitserk said making them both look at him questioningly, “If she was a witch wouldn’t she have well done something to us by now? Or escaped?”

“You all worry too much,” Ivar sighed, and it was hard for Ubbe not to roll his eyes. A random girl in strange clothing shows up out of nowhere not knowing their language and with some weird bag contraption and of course the youngest brother is not even slightly afraid.

Their debates however were quickly ended when Aslaug walked over, “Go fetch the girl. Bring her our home,” she said, her eyes flicking between Ubbe and Hvitserk, “and be discreet about it,” she added in a whisper, “we do not need these men to worry,”

There was only one slight problem, “Where the fuck is she!?”

“Fuck Sigurd was right!”

Both boys sprinted back to the mass gathering of celebrating raiders bragging to all the women and their panic did not go unnoticed, “Mother,” Hvitserk panted as he reached where she stood with Ragnar and Bjorn, “She’s gone. The girl is gone,”

“Who’s gone?” Bjorn asked, his eyes flicking between the group, “What happened while I was away?”

-

Your pov

You sat beside the small fire you’d managed to create and mentally thanked yourself for buying a lighter that day, so you didn’t have to rub sticks together. you had also gone through your back and found some sweets you had bought. However, you only let yourself half a couple to ration them out however you did gulp down the water you had.

Your phone however was still acting up so to entertain yourself you decided to take out your guitar and strum a couple songs quietly, singing under your breath. However even that got boring. Your stomach also began to growl so you decided to eat one of the granola bars you’d pact. Thank god you’d time travelled on a day you’d actually been prepared you laughed to yourself.

Eventually you’d even tried to skip stones to pass the time but that also grew tiresome. Soon you were sat in front of the fire, bored out your mind, flicking your lighter on and off.

Ubbe pov

“We should just grab her,” Sigurd whispered to Ubbe and Hvitserk as the three stared at the girl through the trees.

Ubbe was honestly half disappointed she hadn’t run further away all things considered. However, he was glad to be the one that had found her. “Okay,” he said, nodding his head as he tried to think of the best way to do it since last time you had outrun them for an embarrassingly long time. “On the count of- “

“Wait,” Hvitserk said, flying his arm across his brother’s chest to stop them, “What is she doing?” he said before all three boys jumped back, “Is she holding fire?”

“I think she’s creating it,” Sigurd whispered, his eyes growing wide, “I’m not getting burned to death by a witch!” he whispers yelled at them.

Ubbe felt his blood run cold. “Its okay,” he said quietly, knowing full well it was not okay that their prisoner had escaped and could now control fire, “Sigurd go run and get father and once we have back up, we will grab her. we will stay watch,”

“Can I go instead- “Hvitserk tried to ask but Ubbe shot him a glare. Hvitserk nodded before turning to Sigurd, “Well hurry up then!” he whispers yelled at him before his eyes turned to glue themselves back onto the prisoner who was now turning fire off and on in her hand.

-

Ivar’s pov

He didn’t know what was worse. The fact he’d accidentally let you escape or the fact he didn’t think you would have run. Now he was sat with his father, mother and older brother who know all anxiously waited in the great hall for his other brothers to hopefully return with you.

Bjorn had wanted to send out multiple search parties, but Aslaug had convinced him and Ragnar to try keep this as quiet as possible, so they only told the highest-ranking men. However, that was clearly going to change by the way Sigurd sprinted into the room.

“We found her,” he panted, “but there’s a problem,” he announced which made everyone in the hall stop their chatter.

“Well, what is it?” Bjorn asked, standing from his chair. “What has she done?”

Ragnar had been sat back in his chair the whole time, not fully believing this girl could be some kind of threat. That was until Sigurd spoke, “We found her holding fire,” several gasps came from around the room.

“What do you mean holding fire?” Ragnar asked, sitting up suddenly, “What did you see?”

“She was making fire appear in her hand. We saw it with our own eyes,”

“Where is she? Take me to her,”

-

Your pov

By now it was dark, and the fire was still burning pretty well considering you’d never done one before. you’d decided however to stash the lighter back in your bag since you weren’t going to figure out how to light one from scratch anytime soon. Now you were laying down a foot or so from the fire with your eyes shut.

Even though the whole situation was absolutely terrifying there was something oddly peaceful about this moment. You could hear owls hooting and the wind grazing through the leaves and a crackling fire. It was calm and serene. The only reason you even sat up was to stop yourself from being lulled asleep.

However, as you did you felt your blood run cold at the sight of two Viking men with a sack and a rope creeping towards you. “Fuck!” you tried to scramble to your feet but as you tried to run you felt one grab your wrist and a bag was forced over your head.

You weren’t sure where they were taking you or why they felt the need to tie your hands together in front of you, but you knew one thing. This couldn’t be good.

-

You weren’t sure how far you had walked but you knew your legs hurt and they men forcing you along did not slow down even when you would trip and almost fall. Without a warning the bag was ripped off your head and one of the men grabbed your shoulders tightly to stop you from running.

Your eyes went wide when they met with the bright blue eyes of Ragnar Lothbrok. Surely you had went insane. “Who are you?” he asked, stepping closer to examine you better, “What are you?” he asked as your eyes quickly scanned the room.

It looked like some kind of village hall, and it was filled with the most terrifying looking Vikings you had ever seen in your life. Which to be fair was very few till now. However, your eyes soon caught another blue pairs gaze. “Ivar,” you whispered, “Help me please Ivar tell them I didn’t do anything,” you soon began to beg when you noticed every single man in the room had their hand on the hilt of their weapons.

“How do you know my son?” Ragnar yelled, stepping closer, “Who sent you here?”

“No one I swear I haven’t done anything please,” your voice grew higher, and your eyes looked around the room in a craze. Soon they fell on the other three brothers who were now looking at Ivar with very concerned looks. “You said you didn’t want to hurt me,” you pleaded to Ubbe who’s eyes grew somehow wider than your own.

“I don’t,” he said, stepping forward making Bjorn glare at him. Bjorn, you suddenly realised, as in Bjorn ironside aka someone you really did not want glaring at you right now, “Father please. she hasn’t done anything,”

“She was holding fire,” Bjorn spat at his brother as Ragnar stepped back from you as if in some kind of internal debate.

Your face however scrunched up in confusion, something Ragnar seemed to take note of, “No I wasn’t!” you protested, searching for some kind of explanation when it suddenly clicked, “It was a lighter. I was using a lighter I swear I didn’t hold fire it was just a lighter,”

Silence fell across the room as Ragnar turned to look at you, “What is a lighter?”

You sighed. How the hell where you supposed to explain this without sounding like a witch? “It’s a device where I’m from that produces a flame but that’s all. It isn’t dangerous,”

You weren’t sure if they believed you. Ragnar stepped back to speak to his eldest son who whispered something in his ear while his eyes were fixed on you. Ragnar nodded before stepping forward again, “Show us this ‘lighter’,” he said.

“Its in my bag. I don’t know where it is,” you said just as one of the men behind you shoved the bag into your hands as quickly as possible. You wanted to roll your eyes but decided now wasn’t the best time. you crouched down with the bag and tried to unzip it as quickly as possible with your hands tied together.

Ragnar however took a step away from you as you searched in the bag. You could feel everyone’s eyes on you and finally you found it and stood back up. “See?” you said, flicking the flame on making them all jump back. You took your finger off the button so it would go away making them gasp, “Here. You try,” you offered it to Ragnar.

He went to reach for it, ignoring his wives protests as he took the plastic into his hand. “What do I do?” he said, looking the thing over.

“Press that down,” you tried to reach to show him, but he flinched from your touch, “Sorry,” you mumbled.

Ragnar narrowed his eyes at you before turning his attention back to the lighter. He took a deep breath and pushed it down. The flame sparked. The men in the room gasped, Ragnar jumped making the flame disappear, but a smile found its way onto his face. He tried it again, “Did the gods give you it?” Aslaug called over to you.

“No,” you said as you looked to her, now feeling more confident in your speech, “but where I’m from we have lots of things like this,”

“Is it magic?” a random man called out.

“No,” you said as Ragnar continued to play with the lighter before passing it to Bjorn. “I don’t have magic,” you were tempted to point out that magic wasn’t real but at this point who knew what was real, “it’s just science,”

Before anyone could question what that was Ragnar finally decided to speak after Bjorn had just burnt his finger trying to test if the flame was real, “Untie her hands,” he said and another man, Floki you somehow recognised, tried to protest but Ragnar spoke again, “You are no longer our prisoner but a guest. The gods have sent you to us and it is high time we showed you our hospitality,”

Part three

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[dyaz-stories]

open the blinds, let me see your face || gojo satoru x reader

synopsis: After the death of one of his former students, Satoru insists he's fine. He's lying.

word count: 1k

cw: canon compliant, teacher!reader, angst, minor character death, hurt/comfort, implied fwb relationship with gojo

a/n: reader is the same as in say my name and everything just stops (smut, please only read if you're comfortable with that)

soundtrack

You stand by the door of the morgue, leaning against the wall, arms folded against your chest. Less than an hour ago, you received Ijichi’s report. Factual, direct, stern words. A curse was misclassed. The exorcist sent to deal somehow still managed to complete the job, but passed away as he was being taken back. It’s a story you’ve heard before; it’s a story you’ll hear again.

Except this time, you knew that name.

Of course, you have a good knowledge of most registered exorcists in Japan. Your job requires that. This particular exorcist, you hadn’t met personally — but you’d heard stories.

He was one of the students Gojo taught during his first year as a teacher at Jujutsu High.

You know he’s already inside, and you don’t want to interrupt him at a time of grieving, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stay away.

Just a few minutes ago, Shoko passed by you, giving you a polite nod. She looked tired, unlit cigarette hanging from her lips as she entered the room. You know it’s only a matter of time before she starts handling the body, which means any moment now, Gojo will come out.

You’re not sure what you will do, not really sure why you’re here. You suppose what it comes down to is that you don’t know that he’ll have anyone else. The idea of him being alone, at such a time, makes your heart ache.

So you wait.

It’s a few minutes more before he steps out. He looks the same as he always does: blindfold on, hair an elegant mess, shoulders relaxed. A smile forms on his lips when he sees you, with just an instant of delay, just a moment too late, and in a few steps, he reaches you.

“Aw, did you miss me already?”

His tone is light, his body language playful, in the way he leans forward to tower over you.

You know better than to buy into it.

“I came to check on you,” you say. “I got Ijichi’s report.”

“Ah, about that?” he asks, pointing towards the closed doors. “That’s handled, don’t worry about it. Unfortunately,” a heavy sigh, “I’m afraid I got some things to take care of now, so I’m going to have to cut this short.”

He pulls away so fast all you can do is blink, turning away from you to keep walking. You follow after him, struggling to keep up with his wide strides.

“I’m fine,” he lies without so much as glancing in your direction. “It’s not the first person we lose.”

“Satoru,” you say, and he pauses for a second, tilting his head to look at you.

“Aw,” he teases, “pulling out the ‘Satoru’? You’re really worried aren’t ya?”

Annoyance bubbles inside of you, but you know that’s why he’s doing this. It would be so easy to throw your hands up and decide that he is fine and you should just let him be.

Except if you do that, he’ll truly be alone.

“I am,” you answer genuinely. It’s the best way you’ve found to deal with this. Honest, direct answers, engaging with what he means instead of his tone or behavior. You watch him swallow, and you know you’ve made the right call.

“I’m fine,” he says, a little colder this time.

“Satoru…” you say again, reaching out to touch his face — except your hand stops, a few inches away from his body.

It takes you a second to understand what happened, and once you do, cold washes over you. Outside of sparring session, he’s never used the Infinity to shut you out. You’re aware that the spell is active at all times. You’re also aware that he can choose what he does and does not let in.

“I really do have to go,” he tells you, no longer playful, but he does nothing to move away.

You don’t remove your hand.

After a few seconds, during which neither of you move, he sighs, and the spell allows you in. Gently, your fingers brush against his cheek, and he leans into your touch, ever so slightly.

“I’m fine,” he repeats for a third time, voice even weaker.

There is no need for you to be the strongest right now,’ you want to say. ‘You get to be weak, too,’ you want to say.

“You don’t have to be,” you say instead, cupping his cheek and lightly stroking it. The moment feels fragile. This is not what your relationship is supposed to be — but then again, it had never been just sex, either.

With a trembling sigh, Gojo’s body melts into you. His arms wrap around you, he buries his face in your neck, and he relaxes fully. The hallway is empty except for the two of you, and on another day maybe you would worry about getting caught. Today, it doesn’t matter, and you just close your arms around him, and let him be.

When he pulls away, long fingers tilt your head towards him, only the fingertips brushing against your skin, as if you were made of porcelain and he feared breaking you. He kisses you oh so softly, a caress of his mouth against yours. You press your lips back against his, tilting your head back to give him a better access. It only lasts a second — a second during which you can feel him containing himself — before he takes a step back.

“I need to go check that there’s nothing left out there,” he says, composing himself once more. “But I’ll make sure to visit you when I get back, m’kay?”

He points a finger at you, and you’re sure he’d be winking, if not for the blindfold.

You roll your eyes and scoff, letting him put the mask back on. It’s not the first time someone he knows dies, it won’t be the last either. Everyone, in this line of work, has come to terms with that — but Satoru Gojo is one of the few who never gets a moment to grieve, before he’s needed elsewhere.

“If you must.”

“Oh, but I must, you’d miss me too much if I didn’t, right?”

“If you wake me up, I swear you’ll regret it.”

“A small price to pay,” he grins. “I’ll see you soon.”

He’s gone in the blink of an eye, and you’re left standing in the hallway, alone.

He was right. You would have missed him.

just a quick little thing, hope you liked it! please consider reblogging and commenting to support me if you enjoy my work and would like to see more of it ^-^

you can find more of my gojo x reader writing here if you're interested

[bellatrixscurls]

pairing : artrick x reader

warnings : mentions of sexual toys, patrick being mean (just for a sec), flirting.

hear me out,, sexshop workers art and patrick. except, they are together and pat convinced art to get a job there, so they can get each other off and fuck whenever the shop isn’t as busy.

so what happened when one time, you didn’t see the closed sign on the door during one of their “breaks”, and you walked in. the place was noisy, vibrators turned on, but it seemed to be more than that. you moved around and there was nobody there. you almost went to walk out BUT right before you were out of earshot, you heard what sounded like wood hitting a wall, repeatedly.

“hello?” you called out softly, and the sound immediately stopped. “fuck you, pat. i told you it was a bad idea!” you heard someone curse under their breath, before the door that said “staff only” opened and revealed two guys, their faces flushed and you could swear that you saw one of them tucking it in last minute.

they eyed you for a moment, and the blonde one went to speak, but was cut off before he could say anything. “didn’t you see the fucking sign that says closed?! you just walk in like it’s your damn house and-” “patrick, shut up!”

the aforementioned boy turned to you once again, eyes wide and a look of embarrassment on his face, because you just had to have heard them. “i’m so sorry about my colleague. what are you looking for today?” he smiled politely and you realise that you forgot what you were, in fact, looking for.

“my colleague” the other one, patrick, said under his breath, rolling his eyes as he followed you and art around the store.

“i’m just looking for an… egg, i think that is? it’s on my best friend’s birthday wishlist and i’m pretty sure it’s not about a normal egg” you rambled, fiddling with your fingers, because never have you ever thought that you’d actually go into a sexshop, and even worse, that two hot guys would have to check you out.

art gave you a tight-lipped smile and turned his back to you, seemingly looking for said egg. god, is it embarrassing. “excuse me for a minute, i have to look in the back room.”

and just like that, you were left with patrick for a good two minutes, and the smug smile he was giving you did nothing to soothe your nerves. you had a feeling that wasn’t what he meant to do anyway. “so, never been in a sexshop before?”

you sighed, there we go. “what gave it away?” you tried to smile at him, ignoring your nerves and the way your palms were sweating just from looking at him.

“eh, just figured” he responded nonchalantly, the smirk still present on his face. he made a quick turn, now fully facing you and your eyes widened slightly. “what do you think about my colleague?”

“s-sorry?” you responded, startled by his directness. but he didn’t say anything, just arched his brow at you. “he is pretty” you cleared your throat, looking anywhere but at him.

patrick grinned widely, his blue eyes analysing every inch of you. “just pretty?” he pouted. that fucker. “i think he’d have many more things to say about you. i saw they way you looked at each other.”

“oh, it’s not that. i mean, i look at you just the same, so it’s not-” you sighed, now you really were fucked, “i heard you guys, back there. i don’t want you to think that i like your boyfriend or colleague or-”

“you talk so fuckin’ much.. it’s cute” he nodded to himself and your face instantly reddened. this guy was trying to fuck with your head. he leaned in when he heard the door open, art’s footsteps closer and closer. “you gotta know though, these things are magic” he pointed toward the vibrators, specifically at a large purple one. “me and my boyfriend can help you pick one out the next time you come.”

patrick quickly retreated and you turned, startled, to see art holding several of what seemed to be eggs in his hands, all different colours and shapes. “hey, you have any idea what size would your friend be fond of?”

he was so fucking cute.

[anisespice]

“ the fuck-it list ” || hq! pt. 2

one || three || four

synopsis: there’s a list going around consisting of hot guys on campus that are deemed “fuckable” with theories as to what they’d be like in bed. it’s all fun and games until somehow your boyfriend ends up on this list. 

pairing: various x gn!reader [ hinata, bokuto, kuroo ]

warnings: cursing, suggestive language, hinata’s is SUPER long lol mild objectification, bo and kuroo’s are criminally the shortest ones i’ve written so far ugh (but they get the point across), and I think that’s it :D

notes: first of all, can i just say THANK Y'ALL SO MUCH ♡♡♡ i did not expect that headcanon to blow up, so i will do my very best to make the following ones just as juicy and entertaining for y'all :))) special thanks to @melanatedkink for helping out with this, she helps bring out my inner whore lol hope you guys enjoy !!

notes ii: didn't want the situations to get too repetitive, so these may take me a little longer for the other characters i do in the future, but i appreciate the love and patience for the series thus far !!! you guys are awesome

tagged: @daedaep69 , @ahahadumbo , @viktoryn , @mdsb , @ourgoddessathena , @ushygushybaby , @hyori2 , @lumpywolf , @fantasycantasy

HINATA knew all about the list. Being the social butterfly he was, it would be impossible for the topic not to come up in conversation, especially since a lot of his friends were on it. He found it interesting, to say the least, but never really took the whole thing too seriously. It was just for shits and giggles after all, right?

During a water break in the gym, Hinata aimed for his mouth while squeezing the bottle. Most made it inside, but the rest dripped down his chin. Thinking nothing of it, the spiker used the bottom of his jersey to wipe his face dry, be it water or sweat. And even though it was for a split second, it was more than enough time for the damage to be done to the hearts of those chilling up by the railing on the first level. Beneath the LEDs, in all their sinful glory, were Shoyo Hinata’s nipple piercings. 

The gates of heaven have opened, and the choir sings a hymn. But, along came Satan, as he rubbed his seedy hands together in mischief. The groupies were shellshocked and knew they must alert the masses, eyeing their prey all the way until the end of practice. This caught the attention of a certain blonde setter, who brought it to Hinata’s attention right off the bat as they cleaned up the court.

“Oi. Don’t wanna alarm ya or anythin’, but…those spectators up there been eye-ballin’ you for quite a while. Could be trouble.”

The tangerine gave a confused grin, looking over his shoulder in their direction. Sure enough, their eyes never wavered, not even after being caught. However, he merely shrugged it off. “It’s probably nothing.”

Atsumu hummed, skeptically. Though, he didn’t push it any further.

Once they were dismissed and sent to the showers, by the time Hinata was done he'd be the only one left in the locker room. He had to take his time and be extra careful not to bump his piercings, still kinda sensitive. Kageyama offered to stay behind so they could walk back together, "HINATA-BOKE, HURRY UP BEFORE I LEAVE YOUR SLOW ASS IN HERE."

But, Hinata politely declined. "SUCK A DICK, BAKAYAMA. I'm going over [_____]'s tonight, so go on ahead!"

With a nod, the stoic setter took his leave. "Cool. Tell 'em I said hey. See you tomorrow."

"See ya tomorrow!"

And then, all was quiet.

The only sounds filling the space were the running water, his humming, and the flickering overhead lights. When he stepped out with a towel wrapped snuggly around his waist, Hinata heard the sound of his phone ringing in his bag. His tired expression soon melted into joy at the cheesy love song he used as your ringtone.

Pressing the answer button, Hinata greeted you with his face all in the camera, and a bright, "Hi, [_____]!!~ You here already?"

Your eyes were on the road but you grinned, adoringly. "Hi, Sho. And, no, almost there though. I stopped by the canteen to grab some dinner. Know how hungry you get after practice."

"Mmm, starved. You're an angel, angel."

Staying on the call as he changed, the two of you conversed about each other's day as normal. However, when the topic of those groupies eventually came up, it instantly made you tense. Even though most of his fans were harmless, there were still a few rotten apples in the bunch that made you wary. "God, don’t tell me they asked you to spike their ass like a ball again."

Hinata snorted, throwing on a clean shirt, "That wasn't me, remember? That was Sakusa-san. Never seen him look so horrified." You laughed, having recalled. "But, according to 'tsumu-san, they hardly took their eyes off me tonight.”

“That’s old news, babe. Those vultures are always watching you.”

“Not always-”

"ALWAYS." You affirmed, pulling up to the building. Parking outside the doors, you teasingly said, "We can continue talking about how wrong you are in the car, I’m outside. And hurry, the food's gonna get cold."

"Yes, boss," he chuckled, gathering up his things. Throwing the duffle over his shoulder, Hinata made haste for the lobby, making sure to turn the lights off behind him. “See you in a minute, sunshine.~”

With that he hung up, walking with a spring in his step. He had a surprise for you, and couldn’t wait to finally show them off later. Now that the piercings had healed enough, Hinata couldn’t fight the obscene images clouding his mind of all the things you’d do once you saw them. It made him dizzy just thinking about it…

Unfortunately, someone would beat him to the punch. Or, more specifically, something.

‘Shoyo Hinata. 5’6ft sweetheart, and a ball of energy who’ll light up any room he walks into. He may look all innocent, but clearly, we’ve been underestimating him. Kinda has everyone wondering what other piercings he may be hiding…and where.~ What he may lack in height, he makes up for in girth. Expect to go for several rounds back to back, ‘cause he’s got STAMINA. This man will also be very vocal—Talk you through an orgasm, how good you make him feel, dirty-talk, begging, you name it—He is BIG on communication. He's also a cuddler, after-care will be disgustingly sweet, and pillow talk will be a must. 100/10.’

Wow. You suspected those parasites were up to no good, but never would’ve expected this. The picture attached to the thread was of your boyfriend, mid-air from blocking a ball, with his arms straight up. As he was coming down, his shirt was coming up, exposing his whole torso. It was a little blurry, but whoever took the photo zoomed in enough to where you could easily make out the silver on his nipples.

You pursed your lips, uncertain on how to feel. On one hand, you were kinda annoyed they, let alone the whole campus, got to see them before you even knew about them. But, on the horny hand…

“Hey, gorgeous!” Hinata exclaimed, startling you out of your thoughts. He had opened the back door, and threw his bag on the seat before eagerly joining you in the front. Leaning across the console to give you a kiss, he was taken aback when you stopped him, placing a finger on his lips. “Mmm?”

You gave him a blank look, making him a little nervous. He was just on the phone with you and things were totally fine, what could’ve possibly changed in the five minutes it took him to get to the car? Hinata didn’t have to ponder for long, though. Not when you used that very same finger to hook around his collar, yanking it downward. He yelped, pulling away in the last second, but his reflexes couldn’t save him this time.

You confirmed it with your own eyes now.

“I uh—…T-Those are…,” he spluttered, scratching his cheek. You happily watched him squirm, arms crossed with a knowing grin on your face. Hinata sweat-dropped. “I-I was gonna t-tell you, I swear, but I wanted them to heal a little before I did, so that you could…”

“Could what, Sho?”

His face was pure vermilion. With a huff, Hinata whined, “How’d you even find out? I had a whole thing planned and everything! Was it Bakayama? Did he tell you?? Dammit, I knew I should’ve asked someone else to come with me to the appointment!”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “No, it wasn’t Kageyama. I told you so, those vultures are always watching.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll tell you later. For now,” you reached over again, this time with both hands as lithe fingertips slid underneath the thin cotton of his shirt, trailing up the smooth skin until you brushed against the perked nubs. Hinata twitched, immediately biting back a moan as you began teasing them at once. If he got any redder, he’d surely pass out from all the blood rushing to his head. Luckily, it was also rushing elsewhere. “Let’s hurry and get you back to mine’s, hm?"

"...S-So I uhn," he keened when you lightly tugged on one, hand reflexively grabbing your wrist, but not to stop you. His eyes fluttered as he let you feel him up as much as you pleased, mouth hung open as he began panting like a dog. "...I take it y-you like them, then?"

"Oh, baby, I love 'em. Best investment ever, honestly. Can't wait to put them in my mouth," you sighed dreamily, gently pinching to elicit a moan from the ginger. Music to your ears. From the look on his face, he could probably cum from this feeling alone. You pulled away at the thought, smirking as he instantly began protesting.

"Aht, not so fast, we still gotta eat. But, don't worry. You'll get your dessert."

Homie nodded so quick, you were sure he gave himself whiplash. Adorable.

By the end of a very long night full of debauchery, you eventually told him about the list and how exactly you found out about the piercings. And you know what? He couldn’t even be mad. At least it wasn't Kageyama.

“Oh! He says ‘hey’ by the way.”

Now, BOKUTO thought he knew about the list. But after the whole…misunderstanding with Akaashi, it turned out he knew absolutely nothing. Granted, how he felt about it didn’t really change after his friends spent over an hour explaining it to him. If anything, it fueled his distaste for it even more. When he showed up on your doorstep looking absolutely distraught, fat tears rolling down his face as he proclaimed his unwavering devotion to you, you only needed one guess. 

‘Kotaro Bokuto. 6’2ft of GAWD DAMN. He's sweet, confident, and R E S P E C T F U L?? We love a triple threat. Not to mention how MASSIVE he is, and don’t even get me started on his ass. Would literally be unable to keep my hands to myself, just saying. Like how you see him dominate the volleyball court, the same could be said for the bedroom, without a doubt. Bokuto loves to give, but he’s also a taker. Definitely gives off Switch with service Dom tendencies. Plus he’s greedy. He doesn’t care if you already came four times, give him some more!!! ∞/10. He is beyond the standard. Argue with the wall.’ 

You remembered reading it while taking a break from studying, merely brushing it off. It was only a matter of time he’d end up on their radar, you had prepared for it since the list first started circulating around campus. Frankly, you had completely forgotten about it; up until now. 

“Ko, baby, please calm down-”

“I don’t care how many people wanna touch my ass! They can’t have it, it’s for you to touch and nobody else!” 

You quickly pulled him into your room before he screamed any more embarrassing stuff in the hallway, knowing your neighbors probably recognized his voice by now. The last thing you wanted was another noise complaint, your RA already despised his visits enough to consider banning him altogether–Whether or not they had the authority, you’d rather not find out today. 

Once behind the safety of a closed door, the behemoth of a man came crashing down to his knees, arms circling around your midriff as he buried himself in your stomach. You jumped slightly as your room shook from the sudden action, deeply exhaling in order to reconfigure your thinning patience. Taking a page from Akaashi’s book, you knew getting snippy with Bokuto while he was in this state would only worsen it, so you approached cautiously. 

“Ko,” you cooed, reaching down to caress his deflated hair. He sniffled, hugging you closer in response. Gently, you pushed him far enough to see his face, wiping away the tears as you offered him a soft smile. “Look at me, do I look upset to you?”

Bokuto took a moment to search your eyes, then shook his head.

“Exactly. Which means you don’t need to be, you’ve done nothing wrong. Now stand up, I’m sure that drop hurt your knees, didn’t it?” 

He sniffled once more, then nodded. Slightly embarrassed, Bokuto stumbled back up to his full height, and sure enough, his knees were red. You tsked, gesturing to your desk chair for him to sit on while you fetched an ice pack from your fridge. 

“Although I appreciate the reassurance, I already knew you were on the list, babe.” 

Bokuto’s head shot up from looking at the floor, mood instantly doing a one-eighty as he gaped at you in shock. “HUH? Why didn’t you say anything to me about it?”

“I didn’t think you cared,” you replied, chuckling. “It’s been up for weeks. I figured you saw it and just ignored it, or something. Besides, I’ve gotten used to people openly expressing their attraction to you, so it wasn’t anything new.” 

“You shouldn’t have to get used to it! People need to respect our relationship, no matter how fantastic I am!” 

You snorted, but couldn’t help the chuckle. Returning with an ice pack, you kneeled by his legs and placed the cooling relief upon the irritated skin. “Mm, you are pretty fantastic. But, I don’t mind the attention you get, Ko. Because I know I’m the lucky one who gets you all to myself.” 

Bokuto beamed down at you, lower lip quivering at the praise. 

Effortlessly, he swooped you up from the floor and held you in his lap, the ice pack long forgotten as it slipped out your hands. With a loving squeeze, Bokuto nuzzled into the side of your neck, forcing soft giggles out of you from the ticklish feeling as you hugged him back. You felt so warm in his embrace, and he smelled like home. Even if you’d never say such corny things out loud, the way you melted in his arms was enough for him to know exactly how you felt; it was mutual.

"Plus, you can get a bit intense. They wouldn't last the night."

"Hey, hey, hey, you got that right," Bokuto grinned, smugly. "No one could ever handle me as well as you do, baby owl..." he purred, warm breath fanning over the skin of your shoulder, signaling goosebumps up your arms. You hummed in thought, snuggling in closer, whilst also not-so-accidentally grinding back against the flag pole in his sweats. He grunted, hips jerking upward in surprise.

"Hm, I dunno. It's been a while, I may have forgotten how."

Bokuto chuckled at the tease, the vibrations deep within his chest as he squeezed you a little tighter. You bit your lip to hold in your giddiness as his large hands began to wander, feeling a different kind of warmth as he began to overwhelm your senses. Trailing wet kisses from your shoulder to the side of your face, he playfully nipped at your cheek, eliciting a tiny squeal from you as you wiggled in his hold. And doing so only made you grind back on him even more.

His breathing grew heavier with each passing second, letting out a guttural groan before he flipped you around, making you straddle him. To anyone else, experiencing his sudden mood changes would've given them whiplash. Just moments prior, he'd been on his knees, crying with his head buried in your stomach like it was the end of the world. Now, he looked about five seconds from being on his knees for a different reason. For you, it was just another Wednesday.

"That so? How 'bout I remind you then?"

KUROO thought the list was the most hilarious thing to ever occur on campus, hands down one of his go-to's for entertainment when he’s bored. 

Like right now. 

The lecture dragged on for what felt like forever, the professor mumbling about absolutely nothing of value as everyone in the class busied themselves with whatever would keep them awake. Some played games on their laptops pretending to take notes, while others blatantly chatted with their deskmates.

With an airpod in, Kuroo had you on facetime in the corner of his screen so that you could keep each other company while he scrolled through social media, and you put away dishes. You tried to convince him to leave the class early, "Clearly you aren't paying attention, so you might as well."

"Unfortunately, he only counts attendance if you sign your name on the exit sheet at the very end of the lecture. So leaving early's out of the question." He muttered. You hummed in understanding, then chortled.

"Oh. Sucks to be you, then."

Kuroo glared half-heartedly at you, but it completely softened at the sound of your laughter, despite it being at his expense. He kissed his teeth after checking the time, mildly annoyed that he still had less than ten minutes. “Why’d you even take the course if you couldn’t care less about it?”

“I needed another elective. And…Kenma was the one who recommended it. Said it’d be an easy pass.”

“And you believed him?” Cue another round of your laughter.

He grumbled, off-screen for you but clearly pouting as he chose to ignore your question. No matter, his silence was answer enough.

With a mere shake of your head, you continued putting away dishes on your end. Kuroo, on the other hand, found himself stumbling upon something that perked him up instantly. After refreshing the feed for more mindless content, the user-handle he knew all too well showed itself like a beacon of hope, beckoning him with the promise of filling the next ten minutes with something way more interesting than…whatever this class was about.

@/FckIt22.

After the last fiasco with Bokuto, then later on Kenma, the ravenette contemplated blocking them. As golden as those situations were, something told him that deep down he could be next. But, it was days like this he was glad he didn’t. His boredom was becoming unbearable…and it was so tempting. What harm could it do to look at this one little upda—“HAH?!”

‘Tetsurou Kuroo. 6’2ft gentleman that you’d proudly take home to mom, and even get your father’s approval. With his charm and roguish good looks, it's no wonder his reputation screams 'playboy'. But, he can’t fool me. I know what he is. A whole SUB, no sandwich. I’m sure being as tall as he is, and how he carries himself, people automatically assume he’s a Dom. False. If you’re looking to be dominated, keep looking. Kuroo wants to be babied, told he’s a good boy, and edged until he nearly passes out. Definitely a little brat, but his hair defies gravity for a reason, PULL ON IT. Boss him around, take control, and watch him literally melt in your hands. 8/10 because he's also a stubborn mofo. Literally would pay to see this man cry from overstimulation ugh.’ 

Kuroo shot out of his seat, practically piercing right through the air of humdrum. He not only startled you, but the entire lecture hall including the professor. Comically slapping a hand over his mouth, Kuroo’s face immediately began to burn from not only his outburst but also at the fact that his karma came way sooner than he was prepared for...

He wanted nothing more than for the ceiling to collapse on him and him only.

“Tetsu?? Are you okay, what happened?? Hello??”

"U-Uh, I'll call you back." He squeaked, double-tapping his airpod to end the call.

The professor crossed his arms, "Mr. Tetsurou. I understand that my lecture may not be the most enjoyable part of your day, but I would appreciate it if you endured it for just," the professor checks his watch, "six more minutes. Is that alright with you?"

Before he could even open his mouth to give an excuse, a chorus of vibrations, dings, and whistles from various phones instantly made the business major shrivel up. Next thing he knew, what used to be a room full of the undead was now livelier than ever before. Kuroo could feel every single one of their searing gazes; like being an insect under a microscope.

"Bro, this you?" A student sitting behind him leaned forward, phone in hand as he shoved it in Kuroo's face. The picture stared back at him, smugly grinning and shirtless as he ironically thirst-trapped the camera. Out of all the pictures…

He internally cringed. "U-Uhh..."

"Please, everyone settle down, so we can continue-" The professor attempted to redirect focus, but he had already lost it way before all this happened. A few more students jumped straight into bombarding him with questions, eager to push for more info now that this supposed new side of him had been revealed.

“Whoa, how much of this is true??”

“Kuroo-san, I’ll happily baby you!~”

“Aw man, thought for sure you’d be the type to take control, not give it up. What a bummer. No offense.”

He absolutely took offense to that.

With no help from the professor, as he tried and failed to recollect everyone's attention, Kuroo thought of the next best course of action to get him out of this sticky situation. Jumping out a two-story window didn't sound so bad, and the broken bones would be a great distraction from the suffocating feeling of public humiliation.

In the midst of all the theories and queries being thrown at him from every angle, his phone went off multiple times. Mostly from you, but the rest were no doubt the groupchat clowning him once they caught wind of the news. The guys weren't gonna let him live this one down, that's for certain. And to make matters worse...he still had four long minutes left in the class.

He exhaled, "Should've blocked 'em when I had the chance..."

Gathering up his stuff, Kuroo used his long legs to evade the ever-growing crowd of prodding students, all most likely not even caring about the post itself, but more so just wanting to kill class time; he refused to be a scapegoat.

Marching right up to the professor, who gave up trying to round up the class, the rooster-head mustered up the most pathetic look possible to evoke sympathy outta the wrinkly man. "Hey, so uh… may I please be excused a little early for this one time, sir? I'd really hate to be such a distraction from your insightful lecture-"

"Just go, Mr. Tetsurou." Didn't need to tell him twice.

As soon as he made it to your dorm, you could imagine his shock that his friends were already there, waiting as if they knew he'd come running straight to you. You offered him a teasing grin, shrugging as you said, “They came for…emotional support.”

He didn't know if he was mortified or mortified—Yaku, Yamamoto, Bokuto, Akaashi, hell, even Kenma rolled out of bed, wrapped in a blanket burrito and all, just to see the look on his best friend's face. He grinned, sardonically, then patted the empty spot on the couch right next to him. "Welcome to the club. We've been expecting you."

Oh, he was definitely blocking that godforsaken list now. And finding a new elective.

© 2023-2024 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[liveontelevision]

Hi! im in love with your Lucifer fics. You newest one has me gripped and i cant wait for the next part.

You got me brainstorming more Lucifer fics ideas

I was thinking of one where the reader has been helping/supporting Charlie at the Hotel and is almost like a mother/parental figure to her, and when Lucifer arrives he acts cold/mean no matter how much she tries to be polite. But then he warm up to her after see how much the reader really cares about Charlie and then he finally realises hes in love with her.

♡

Thank you! I literally could write about him for hours (kinda have already) and I really liked this prompt, so here's just a lil' something for ya, anon ♡

Honey | Lucifer x Reader

No smut, just some cute fluff here-

♡♡♡

As soon as you arrived in Hell, your eyes were drawn to the drab-looking hotel just up the hill. And you flew to it like a moth to a TV screen. That being said, you've known Charlie and the other residents for as long as you've been dead. They've all seen you at your worst, having to be the unlucky few to explain your death. Although, Charlie's comfort really made the whole being dead thing much more palatable. During this time, while she's supported you, you've seen her through thick and thin as well. Pretty soon, you became an important part of her life, offering a more parental influence when she needed one. You didn't really die at an old age, but a lot went on in your lifetime to give you the maturity to comfort people that way and you were always happy to do it.

Considering your skill set, some of the residents went to you in the same fashion. A little task you took to, just to help out, was fixing up some articles of clothing for people. It was a great mindless task for you to do, considering Alastor wasn't a fan of having phones and TVs in the hotel. So you simply sat, humming a little tune as you fixed up something from Angel's wardrobe.

Your trance was broken, seeing a pair of slender legs in front of you. Following them up, you finally meet eyes with a nervous-looking Charlie. She's fidgeting with her fingers, still trying to find the courage to say whatever she came to you for.

"You need something, hun? You can talk to me, c'mere." With a sweet voice, you patted the cushion on the couch next to you and kept on working. She let out a heavy breath you didn't realize she was holding.

"Soooo... my dad is coming to visit and I - uh.." she still struggled to find her words. Considering you've barely been outside the hotel, you really didn't question how big of a deal Lucifer was. But to see Charlie getting flustered about a little visit from her own father did make you feel uneasy.

"I guess - I don't know, I'm just nervous, is all! It's not that big a deal, I mean, he's my dad, but also.. he's... my dad..?" You nodded your head.

"Seems like a big deal. He's the king of Hell, so it makes sense that you're nervous. Can I help with anything?" Acknowledging her feelings and making sure to keep your tone smooth, you finally set aside the mini skirt you were fixing up to face her.

"Oh! Um - I was wondering if you could bake something for everyone! Niffty's making cookies, but I think dad might enjoy something a little more.." You both thought back on the disturbing display of desserts Niffty had made for everyone in the past, it sent a chill down your spine. You nodded your head fast, taking a hold of her hands.

“Yeah, I'd love to! I'll make sure it's something your dad would like, too! How's that sound?" You absolutely loved to bake, and doing it for other people always made it even better. There was some pressure on you, considering who you were catering to, but remembering that this is for Charlie, kept any nerves at bay. Charlie, who just happened to be shedding a tear or two of relief, gave you a hug that would've snapped you in two if it had gone on any longer. You were used to those at this point.

The day went by fast, Charlie preparing and stressing over little decisions for her dad's visit. You got the OK to bake an apple pie. A specialty you would make when you were alive, you went all out. You'd always make the dough from scratch, soak the apples in a homemade cinnamon butter, and somehow managed to spiffy it up to a commercial extent. You were batting off Pentious and Niffy as best you could until he arrived.

You saw a side of Charlie during that visit that you haven't really seen before. She was nervous, sure, but it was clear she felt so defeated. Each little quip on sinners being hopeless or how Charlie shouldn't even bother in this "whole redemption deal" made you understand her paranoia more and more.

As Charlie introduced each of the staff and residents, Lucifer got distracted by the still steaming pie sitting on the table in front of everyone. He definitely wasn't the only one whose mouth was watering just by staring at it, but he was the one who bit the bullet, taking the first piece. 

"And this is -" a loud hum of satisfaction interrupted Charlie's introduction to Sir Pentious, who looked deflated at the change in topic.

"Charlie! Good golly - This is great!" With another bite and hum, you watched his eyes flutter shut for a moment. A little boost of confidence immediately making you giddy.

"Oh! Well, that's good! Because this is our other guest! She made it herself -" Charlie took a hold of your shoulders and dragged you to face Lucifer. You could feel the nervous tremble coming from her hands. You looked up at her for a moment and smiled, placing a hand over top of hers. It really did seem to calm her nerves. And for some reason, he didn't seem to like that. 

"Well - I'll eat anything with apples since they're obviously my favorite. It’s not that special." He tossed the half-finished plate back onto the table and wiped his hands clean. He ignored you.

"U-Uhm.. yeah, that's - that's everyone, I guess!" Charlie stammered, not expecting him to turn such a cold shoulder to you. He spent his time examining you. Considering he didn't even care enough to learn your name at that moment, he sure was taking his time looking you up and down.

"Well then!" He clasped his hands together after finally tearing his eyes off you. "How about a little tour?" He suggested, clearly not invested in the other sinners now. Charlie looked down at you and you nodded, starting to clean up some little things around you. It was a nervous habit you had, but it helped to keep your hands busy and your mind off the insulting interaction you just had to endure.

Charlie took Vaggie's hand and went on to give the tour. Once they were out of sight around the corner, you slumped your shoulders letting out a groan.

"Short king's givin' you the cold shoulder, huh?" Angel leaned on the back of the couch, crossing one leg over the other.

"Right? Okay, glad I'm not the only one who noticed that. Is something wrong with the pie..?" Looking over to Sir Pentious, who was licking the already empty pie tin clean, he quickly shook his head.

"Maybe's got a thing for ya." Angel teased, jabbing you with his elbow. You rolled your eyes, finally taking the pie tin from Pentious.

"He didn't even get my name, I'm sure that's not it. Whatever.. " you grumbled, taking any dishes you could to the kitchen to keep your mind from exploring that option.

The extermination day battle was here. You followed the armies who attacked the hoards of exorcists when they finally arrived. As the battle went on, you hated to admit it, you found yourself in awe watching Lucifer kick Adam's ass. The sight of his wings and the little V thing - and obviously his immense power, somehow managed to make you blush as you were attacking angels. Definitely a new sensation for you, with the bloodlust muddling your other senses, but it was easy to forget about it once the new hotel was renovated and everyone was finally settled in.

As everything went back to normal, you went back to helping Charlie with anything you could, drinking at the bar with everyone and generally things went back to the way they were. There was only one difference. Lucifer made the decision to stay at the hotel. It was commendable for sure, his change of heart to support Charlie through this change, but it only left you feeling conscious about everything you'd do when he was around. The underlying crush didn't help much. Or Angel's teasing about said crush.

You really did try, when you'd pass him the hallway, you'd always send him your most sincere smile. Or when you spotted him reading or working on anything, you'd try and spark any kind of conversation or ask if he needed help. He never needed help. He was always too busy to chat. You honestly couldn't remember a time he looked you in the eyes before. You bit your tongue. No need to worry Charlie, or anyone really, about some feud you possibly made up in your mind.

It was especially important to you to not stress Charlie right now. Starting the hotel back up was a big task alone, but the loss of Sir Pentious weighed on everyone. And Charlie took full blame for it. A late night, where she most likely stayed up to try and find any kind of hope for redemption, any speck of proof to bring sinners in, she found herself burnt out. Approaching the memorial for Pentious, you stood beside Charlie. You found her visiting it every now and then, and when you did, you knew she needed a check in. And you were right. Without a word, Charlie suddenly clung to you. She went on about how it was all her fault. How he was gone because of her. How nothing seems to be working and she's terrified that it's all for nothing.

It took a while for her to calm down, but you would never leave her like this. By now, the two of you had fallen to the ground, sitting on your knees.

"Charlie, you are doing your absolute best. It's okay to cry, you know that. Think of everything you've done for everyone else, I mean - Pen would've never sacrificed himself if it wasn't for his friends." You brushed a tear from her still wet and puffy eyes. "You did that. You gave him something worth dying for." It was a hard truth, but you hoped it was enough for her. She's done more for you than she'd ever know, and you'd do anything to give it back. You didn't realize, but before approaching Charlie, Lucifer was pacing a nearby corridor, battling the decision to go up to her himself. He hadn't said much to her since extermination day, and he had always been nervous about saying something wrong, making things worse. Before he had the chance to muster up the courage, you had swooped in. It confused him. He should've been jealous or hurt, that he wasn't able to calm her down himself. That you beat him to the punch. But he didn't really feel that way, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise. Was it admiration? Sitting in the shadows until he assured Charlie was taken care of, he went back up to his workshop, flustered for a number of reasons.

There was one moment, where things started to look good. It was a regular night at the bar, you, Angel and Husk had gotten on the topic of your lives, looking at the positives which was a rarity. Charlie and Lucifer were nearby, Charlie enthralled in the discussions of what Earth was like.

"My homelife? It wasn't anything fancy, but.. um.. - oh I had a farm, actually! I ran it with my parents, it was.. nice." You hold onto your arms, a bittersweet smile on your face. With a light bulb going off in Charlie's head, she nudged you with her elbow.

"You didn't happen to have any birds or chickens or ducks - did you?" She hummed. She noticed the wedge between you and her dad, and it hurt her just as much as it hurt you. She's little miss "everyone should get along", of course, this hurt her. You didn't notice, but Lucifer peaked up at you for a split second before distracting himself by swaying the drink in his glass.

"Oh..? Oh! Yeah! Yes, actually! We raised a few ducklings that a neighbor gave us - we got them as eggs, so we got to see them grow up and everything!" Going on, telling a story about how you snuck one into your room to keep it as a pet, only to be scolded for it. You had the whole group in the palm of your hand. Including Lucifer. You met his eyes for just a moment, the twinkle in them immediately drawing you in. With a quick smile, he became flustered. He scoffed, pushing himself away from the bar and leaving. As much as that should've infuriated you, seeing those eyes and the growing redness across the apple of his cheeks felt like a win.

Since the hotel was newer, and word hadn't gotten out about Pentious's redemption yet, it was still vacant beside you, Angel, and occasionally Cherry Bomb. That gave the whole group a lot of time to enjoy the large space in the meantime.

Certain nights, Alastor would play the large, golden, piano that Lucifer had so generously created. This led to Charlie singing along to whatever he was playing, of course, and when Lucifer was in a good mood - or drunk - he would even pitch in. He'd sit atop the piano, his legs crossed, as he hiked the matching golden fiddle to his shoulder and played along. It was truly a sight to see. His skills were unmatched, but it still seemed to melt into the rest of the contributions. It was as if he invented the damn thing (He did).

This sort of became a tradition, when everyone was in a good mood and Alastor wasn't getting on Lucifer's nerves too much, everyone would join in, singing and dancing. It was rare, but Damn was it fun when it did happen. One of these nights, Alastor started off with a song that you knew, and had actually introduced to Charlie. She gasped as soon as she recognized the tune, pulling you close by both your hands to sing along. You had as good of a voice as anyone did, in a musical rendition of Hell, but you mainly stuck to harmonizing little things with Charlie. Swinging around with each other, until you were dizzy and laughing, you noticed that the room seemed a little empty.

Lucifer was seated where he usually was, on his phone. His fiddle was placed carefully at his side, and he was scrolling through his goddamn phone. 

"Don't feel like joining us, Your Highness?" You kept to titles since it was obvious he wasn't warmed up to you just yet. Even after living with you for a month or so.

"Mm. Don't know the song. It's not my cup of tea, just can't seem to get into it." He says bluntly, never looking up to you.

“Oh, come on! Just play along, it’s just for fun!” You slurred your words a bit, whatever you had been sipping throughout the night causing, what you would call, an outburst.

“Hm! Well, I’m not exactly here for your entertainment, am I? God forbid a sinner doesn't have fun in their eternal punishment.” The room went silent. You felt so defeated. You've been trying since the day you met him to try and at least get on good terms with him, but it seemed like he would even prefer a night with Alastor over you. Things like this never bugged you much, you tried so hard to not let it bug you, but when Charlie looked over to you, with those worried eyes, it was hard to keep back the bottled-up disappointment.

With a little sniffle and a quick wipe of your eyes with your sleeve, you start heading back up the newly decorated grand staircase, without a word to anyone.

"Heyyy - Dad..! I think you maybe.. might've... I don't know - hurt her feelings..? Would you wanna - " Charlie carefully approached her father, who immediately lit up and placed his device down when she spoke. "Could you talk to her? Maybe just check up on her..?" She was speaking barely above a whisper.

“You have to apologize. Um.. sir.” Vaggie finally blurted out. His smile was nervous, his eye twitching a bit at the concept. Taking in a deep breath, he rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a sad little laugh.

"Well, uh.. I don't know, Kiddo, maybe she's just tired." He muttered, obviously hesitant at the idea.

"Sounds like the king can't handle a little damsel in distress to me. Would you like me to comfort her, my dear?" Alastor was quick to chime in from the piano bench, offering a sympathetic smile to Charlie. Why did the concept of that make Lucifer’s blood boil?

"Oh fuck you, bambi, I can handle it." With a quick hop off of the piano top, he almost stormed up the stairs to find you. Definitely not what Charlie was hoping to motivate him, but she wasn't an idiot. She knew Alastor had his reasoning for that. She mouthed a little thank you to him, once Lucifer turned his back.

You were ecstatic to learn that Charlie worked an extensive library into the hotel. Walking into its large double doors, you almost struggled to see the back of the room with how full it was. You had a little corner you claimed as your own, leaving one of your blankets draped on the little loveseat there, and setting aside a pile of books you were still working through. It was a great place to calm yourself down after what had just happened.

Hearing heels click against the tile, you wrapped yourself tighter in your blanket as you pulled your legs up to your chest. 

"I'm fine Charlie, it's fine.. I just need a second, go back to the lobby." You shooed off the figure with one hand, wiping your face with the other.

"Ahha- Nope! Try again -" with a nervous chuckle, Lucifer greeted you with an awkward wave. Interrupting the silence by clearing his throat, he gestured to the seat next to you. With a quick nod, finally snapping out of your surprised state, you shifted your position to sit beside him. It wasn't exactly a two-person couch. Not for two people who might hate each other, at least. I mean it was a loveseat. He struggled to keep his distance, leaving your legs barely brushing together.

"Soooo.. you, uh- like.. reading..?" He asked after a long silence. You were mainly confused by his words, but simply nodded in response.

“Yeah it's - I-I love it in here.. There wasn’t anything like this on Earth, so this is nice." You managed to speak out, between sniffles. He agreed with a little hum, fidgeting with the ring on his finger.

“Glad you like it. It's uhh - just happens to be my personal collection.” He puffed out his chest, looking at his clawed nails with a little smirk on his face. He had no idea why he thought that would help, but it actually did a bit. when he looked your direction, you were slack-jawed in awe. The sight made him turn a bit red in the cheeks, quickly looking away, he patted the top of his legs to fill the silence.

“That's really cool! I guess it makes sense - considering you're older than the dawn of time- but, still. Thank you, I suppose. For letting me - I mean - us use it.” You rambled on for a moment your words became quieter the more you gushed.

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” He asked between laughter. You made him laugh. You hoped he didn't see the sparkle in your eyes at the notion. You stalled, lost in thought, before quickly shaking your head.

The two of you sat there for a moment, the awkward silence sitting a little more comfortably than before. Finally, Lucifer let out a sigh of defeat. 

"It’s my fault, right?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"Oh, uh.. I guess so, but.. I mean, I'm kind of drunk so it might be something with that - but I'm fine, I swear." You waved your hands in an attempt to soothe the serious discussion. But Lucifer knew better than anyone what someone holding their true intentions back looks like.

"You're really good for Charlie. I.. I wish I could take care of her. Like you do." He admitted. It surprised you for a moment. Was that why he's been so cold to you? Was there some form of jealousy in there? Or was he really concerned that you would replace him in some fashion?

"C'mon, you're just saying that to make me feel better. I saw you on extermination day, none of this would even be here without that little pep talk, you’ve done more for her than you know, I think. Charlie.. she loves you." The words made him perk up a little. Maybe even a king needs reassurance sometimes.

"Oh- Um.. I guess she does, huh..?" You could hear his smile. The two of you sat in silence for a moment. You didn't even realize you had the smallest smile on your own face. But he did. With another nervous laugh, he hesitates before planting a hand on your leg, just above your knee. No time like the present, you suppose.

"I’m sorry. I really am. For.. everything. You're actually amazing. I-I mean it.." Without a response from you yet, he lets his gentle touch linger a moment longer. You leaned in towards him, the smile on your face turning sly.

"Yeah? You think so? I almost thought you hated me." You were teasing him. He's been so cold to you this whole time, you just had to take advantage of the moment. He turns a bit red, covering his mouth with his free hand as he clears his throat into his fist.

"Of course I don't.." He muttered.

"Soo, would you say you like me?" You drew out your words, walking your fingers up his arm.

"W-What? How - " He clamped his hand over his mouth before desperately trying to rationalize his thoughts, " Of course I do! I just said you're great with Charlie and I -ahh.. I love Charlie, so I like - " He coughs up his words, " - I liked your pie, that you made! And you have a good voice, too, and your little duck story was cute, so - " God bless this man's tendency to overshare when he's nervous. The alcohol definitely gave you the little boost of confidence you needed to question him like this, but you would be lying if you said you didn't notice his reactions to you whenever you weren't paying attention. Or whenever he thought you weren't paying attention. It finally dawned on you that some of those glares might have had some other motivations.

You knew when to reel it in, but considering his hand was still on your leg, he moved it up a bit even, you assumed he was okay with the teasing. Maybe even enjoying it. Delicately drawing your fingers across his jaw, to his chin, you pulled his gaze to meet yours. You could feel his hand tense at every little touch.

"You have really nice eyes, Luci-" He audibly gulped, tugging at his bowtie. "You’ve been avoiding looking at me for months.. I wish you'd look at me more." You almost pouted, your fingers still lingering under his chin. With the slightest movement, he followed your hand towards your face. He took his hand off your thigh for a moment, only for you to take a hold of it and place it on your back. He was the one who pulled you closer at this point.

“Y-you can't just say things like that.. it’s embarrassing..” He muttered, trying his best to not close the gap between your bodies. 

“Embarrassing? I’m not embarrassed, your highness. Are you? Do I.. make you nervous? Hmm?” You placed your hands just above his knees, leaning closer through your chest. Sucking in his lips, he did his best to stay silent, knowing he’d dig his own grave no matter how he answered.

“I just think you’re so pretty, Luci, I can't help myself.” Before he could properly react, you leaned in close enough for him to feel your breath against his ear. Damn, what did you drink? You could feel his hand on your back clenching, either to bring you closer or just out of sheer nerves. With a little hum against his ear, he let out the quietest whimper. It apparently took both of you by surprise, you leaned back to get a look at his face with wide eyes. Meeting his eyes this time sent you both into a blushing, nervous state.

With a deep breath, you cupped his face after brushing some of his golden locks back into place, then gave him the lightest kiss on his lips. You didn't even linger long enough for him to return it, and he was clearly distraught by it. You unwrapped yourself from your blanket, giving a dumbstruck Lucifer another quick peck on his forehead, before standing.

“I’m going back downstairs. Take your time, Hun!” You called out so sweetly as if you hadn't just left him a heated mess. 

Finally returning to the lobby, you walked with your chest puffed out, beckoning for another drink from Husk.

"Did.. did Dad check in on you? Are you okay?" Charlie carefully approached you, and was immediately disarmed by your grin.

"Yup! I feel much better now. He apologized and we had a little.. Discussion. Thanks, hun." You said sweetly, taking a sip of the drink Husk slid into your hand. Angel gave you a dirty glare, and after meeting his eyes you quickly looked away.

"Well great! Where is he? Maybe we can pick back up where we left off!" Charlie clasped her hands together enthusiastically.

"Here! I-I'm here! Great idea, honey, let's keep playing!" He tripped over himself, rushing into the room and hoping nobody saw him re-fastening his tie. Sending him another quick smile, his face clearly hadn't cooled from the past events. He nearly dropped his fiddle, but as soon as he prepared he picked up the same song that was left unfinished moments before.

♡♡♡

I wanted to get through some asks, but I'm still working on Suffer, no worries, my friends

!Taglist!

( @vififofum @thornwolfy235 @tinywolfiegirl @chipper-chip @bat-boness @misfitgirlwrites @nayomi247 @lonelynmisunderstood @escapistoftherealworld @b4ts1e @hamthepan @kyo-kyo1 @looking1016 @polytheatrix @littledolly2345 @lillianastuff @yourlocalcryptidbee @0strawberrysorbet0 @themageofblood @jayyyayaysblog @floralsightings @azmosposts @8har0ley8 @actuallyspiderwoman @sirenetheblogger @christineblood @kaytemchugh @cimadreamer @simpdevil66 @azmosposts @m3ow1 @acrazyartist @redfoxwritesstuff @4k1to @meesachan @corvusskid )

[kivino]

Platonic!Task Force 141 x Eastern European!Reader

Word Counter – ~1.9k

Summary – a compilation of headcanons about how reader’s Eastern European background would affect interactions with Task Force 141 during an undercover mission together.

Tags/Warnings – Gn!reader, Eastern European!reader (obviously), Platonic!TF141, fluff, mostly.

A/n – RUSSIANS DNI (this is a personal boundary, so I ask you to respect it, if you don’t like it just scroll past this post). Very self-indulgent. Just showing more love to my fellow Eastern European readers. Since it is mostly based on my own experience growing up as a Ukrainian, I’m sorry if certain things don’t resonate with you! This whole thing was made for fun and fun only.

So, let’s assume our beloved Task Force needs to go undercover to get some information on Makarov and his merry band of goons. Obviously, they can’t do it without at least one team member, who is familiar with the way of living in Eastern Europe. So, naturally, Laswell introduces you to them – born and raised there, ready to help them and stop your sworn enemy from escalating an already pretty shitty situation.

“So, allow me to introduce your new team member for the duration of this mission” Laswell nods to the door when you walk in, saying your name and callsign, already catching some looks full of curiosity from Task Force 141.

First thing they noticed about you? Resting bitch face for days. Who needs a mask when you have a death stare that will give the heebie-jeebies to most if not all of your teammates? However, they feel even more taken aback when you suddenly greet them with a warm, welcoming smile and a firm handshake, not a trace of that sour expression on your face.

One would think that you’d spend hours preparing four of them for the mission by teaching them language, helping to memorize names and faces of contacts, Makarov’s trusted allies, and potential targets. Naturally, you did your job, but those precious hours were also spent with you standing next to a whiteboard, ranting about the politics and societal issues of your country, explaining certain national jokes, and teaching them swear words or poetry you studied at school. But hey, they’re not complaining (maybe a little).  

They were skeptical about this whole deal at first. However, there was a shared understanding between the four of them that they needed to do whatever it took to stop the spreading of Makarov’s influence and diminish his resources in other countries. With time, however, they’ve found things that made their life in a completely new environment a bit more enjoyable and interesting.

Soap would pick up on your native language the fastest out of the Task Force. Under all these jokes and goofiness Johnny’s a smart guy, inquisitive as hell too, which makes a pretty good mix. He’d try to write down how you pronounce things in his sketchbook, dedicating pages upon pages to making a small vocabulary of what you say, searching up the translations of words any chance he gets. Convinces himself that it just helps him to get more into his new way of life, and not at all because he likes seeing you all excited when he slips a word in your language somewhere in the conversation.

“So how do you say it?” he points to the sentence, messily scribbled on the page with the ballpoint pen he slipped from Gaz. There is a slight frown between your brows – the word looks unfamiliar, more like gibberish than something in your language. You can practically feel the gears in your head screech and come to a halt as you drill Soap’s handwriting with your eyes.

“Oh, wait. You made a mistake here. No wonder I have no idea what this is.” You quickly take the pen and scratch the right version of the word on the paper, while Johnny chuckles at your brutal honesty. He doesn’t say anything though. Some time passes and you’re already correcting other words he wrote down, explaining the right way to say them. And you can feel a pleasant warmth spread in your chest when you can see Soap’s utmost attention directed at you.

Johnny can’t help but feel that moments like these were somewhat of a way to bond for you two. He’d jokingly offer to give you some Scottish classes each time you playfully flick him on the forehead for a word he pronounced wrong. He never expected you to take him up on the offer until the five of you got stuck in a countryside safehouse and essentially had nothing to do while waiting.

On the topic of Eastern European countryside, Price is not an old man by any measure, man’s not even forty yet, but it would grow so massively on him that it’s concerning. When you finally got a good, reliable contact that gave you some useful information you had to lay low for some time in a safe house not far from one of many Makarov’s places where the next weapon deal would be held. And while you waited several days for his people to show up there, obviously almost all of you were bored out of your minds. Not Price though. The man went exploring. Of course, taking you with him (he only wanted company on his small journey through the cozy countryside, don’t blame him).

Soon enough, during your walk you two come across the abundance of berry bushes and fruit trees everywhere, and while you pick something to munch on from them constantly, Price only scolds you. You smirk in response, giving him a handful of ripe mulberries, your lips and fingers now a dark red color from the juice.  

“It’s going to rot if nobody eats it. People who plant these trees would rather someone enjoy them instead of fruits just falling on the ground, getting squished, and going to waste.” And Price takes note of that with a small smile. Soon enough the two of you find a spring the whole village uses, a willow standing tall beside it, providing shade for you two to rest, chat a bit, and cool yourself off with fresh water. The fact that there are not many people around also doesn’t miss him. It’s quiet and peaceful, Price finally feels like he has room to breathe with his whole chest.

“You know, I could get used to a life like this.” Price finally mutters, enjoying your simple, comforting presence, walking along the river shore, and hearing the distant sounds of a train passing through the village. You look at him with understanding in your eyes, as you see the tension in his shoulders finally slipping away. Your captain relaxes, which is a pleasant change of pace from the frown on his face that you got used to.  

All five of you had to live in the same apartment in an old panel building closer to the edge of town. Not the best place to live, but a good opportunity to blend in with the locals and find leads on Makarov’s criminal “friends”. More than once you’ve found yourself sitting together with Ghost on the balcony that creaked with each blow of the wind, in complete silence while he was smoking some cheap cigarettes that smelled more like burnt paper instead of tobacco.

“Can I join you?” Your voice is a quiet rasp, as you lean against the doorway, pushing the mosquito netting to the side. You couldn’t sleep. Not when the whole world will go down the drain if you fail your mission. Not when it’s been a month already and it felt like you were still right where you started.

“Knock yourself out” the man shrugs, patting the stool near him. You shuffle your bare feet on the newspapers that were laid out on the balcony floor, plopping down on the seat, your eyes immediately getting glued to the view, enjoying the breeze that seeped through the open window. You two sit in silence for so long, but it doesn’t feel awkward, quite on the contrary – weirdly calming and serene.

After that night these nightly smoke breaks became a sort of tradition for you two, a way to wind down after a long day. Ghost would nod towards the balcony, a silent invitation reserved only for you. Regardless of whether you’re a smoker or not, occasionally he would offer you a cigarette from his pack or a hit from the lit one. A gesture of camaraderie.

“Thought you’d be more talkative.” Ghost’s voice sounds gruff after the whole day working your asses off just to discover the lead that you had was absolute bullshit.

“And I thought you weren’t a type for small talk.” You grumble in return, just as annoyed about coming back to this dingy apartment with nothing.

“That I am” He lets out a low chuckle, flicking his cigarette into an ashtray in his hand, avoiding eye contact with you.  

Kyle found himself liking your cooking above everything else. The way he would eat anything thrown together in a hurry by you was quite flattering. So soon enough you offered to teach him how to make some of your favorite national dishes, and he couldn’t say no to your offer. So, you decided to start easy – picking out the fresh ingredients. And where do you go to do that? Not a grocery store, no way in hell. The market filled with tons of people is the place you need. A lot cheaper than your usual supermarket too.

The number of times you got discounts for fruits and vegetables on the market from older women just for Gaz’s pretty eyes was insane. He would just blink at you with confusion written all over his face anytime you glanced at him with that smile and refused to explain why you spent a lot less money than expected on the fresh vegetables. At some point, Gaz even questioned his ability to count before you told him just not to worry about it since you got a “very special bargain”. And, obviously, Kyle was the one carrying the plastic bags filled to the brim with fresh produce.  

“You know, your version of the dish is not half-bad,” You say, licking the spoon and giving Gaz a wide smile, which he immediately returns to you tenfold. Spending time like this with him was a pleasure. Each minute spent together made you loathe even thinking about the time when you’d have to part ways and you won’t be able to teach him your cultural cuisine like this anymore.

“Well, I have a great teacher to thank for that.” Gaz gives you a charming smile, so glad to finally have a distraction from the constant looming presence of Makarov in his thoughts. Right this moment he caught himself thinking that he was happy they had you here with them. It would be a lot harder if not for you supporting and guiding them through everything. He felt…thankful.

You’d bring the whole Task Force to different cafes that serve your country's most famous dishes, but Kyle would be the one to enjoy these outings the most, barely raising his eyes from the plate to participate in the conversation.

“Wow, are you in a hurry or something? The food won’t run away from you.” You chuckle, while Kyle ignores the odd saying coming from you and continues to eat with the huge appetite he had ever since this undercover mission started.

However, nothing lasts forever, so after finishing their business with you, getting all the information they needed, and “cleaning up the mess” Task Force 141 bids you farewell, returning to their usual duties. Saying goodbye is never easy, even if you knew each other just for several months you still got attached to them, just like they grew very fond of you (as much as some of them hated to admit that). But hey, they promised to visit you after they finish up with Makarov. They promised. And the four of them keep the promises they make.

taglist - @mockerycrow @stridersdiner

check out my masterlist for more fics or send me a request!

[vernons-girl]

never stopped loving you | lee dino

angsty but sweet,wc:0.9k

A few months back you broke up with your boyfriend Dino.

And you might ask, why would you break up with such a nice boyfriend ?

Well, you were not feeling good. You did not feel like yourself anymore, and nothing felt right, nor fully real. So you decided you needed to spend some time alone to focus on yourself and only yourself because you did not want to hurt anyone’s feeling or make them feel bad about the way you were feeling yourself. So you broke up with your boyfriend. Because he was affected by your state, and you noticed it.

Sometimes you would have mood swings and push him away, he wanted to help you though, he really did, but you knew he could not. He was not the problem but you did not want your relationship with him to become a part of it, so you put an end to it.

The thing is, during that phase you were angry, sad and in pain, but mostly angry. So that resulted in you breaking up with him in a fit of rage without giving him any real motive for your actions, he knew you were not feeling good, so he did not ask more questions and left.

But now, a few months later you felt better, but also guilty. Guilty about the way you treated him at the end of your relationship and guilty about how you broke up with him. So one evening you decided to text him and asked if he wanted to grab breakfast with you, and very much to your surprise, he immediately agreed.

So here you were, waiting for him at your non-officially designated table in your favorite signature café. You were anxiously chewing on your bottom lip, scrapping of the lip balm you had put on earlier in the morning, playing with your fingers you did not see him coming by your table.

“You will never get rid of that habit, won’t you ?” a voice said, you looked up to be met with him, Dino.

He had not changed much, his hair was slightly longer and his efforts to the gym had obviously paid off but he was still the same, he was still your Dino.

"Hello ? Earth to Y/N ?” he waved his hand in front of you, getting your attention back even though your mind stuck to the way your name rolled out of his tongue.

“Yeah sorry.. Please sit down !” you said pointing to the empty spot in front of you.

And he did just that, “Have you ordered yet ?” he asked, “Yes I did! I ordered for you, I hope you still like the same things from here though, I should’ve asked I am sorry !” you apologized, feeling your face get hotter.

He chuckled, god you had missed hearing his breathy laugh, “Don’t worry, some habits don’t change” he replied.

The waiter brought you guys your drinks and snacks, breaking the awkward silence that had taken place, “Enjoy your drinks.” he politely said before walking away, leaving you once again with your ex boyfriend.

“So..” he started, “Why did you want us to meet up ?” he asked.

“Well, I feel like I owe you some explanations about the last time we saw each others” you began, receiving a nod from him signaling you to continue.

“So as you know, I was not feeling the best when I ended things between us and I did not make you come here to give any excuse for what I have done, I just want - no I need to explain why I did it. I hated feeling that way but I also hated that you had to put up with it, and I know you dealt with it amazingly and the best you could, but it hurt me to see how my mental state could affect you. I did not feel like my old self, like the Y/N you fell in love with so I pushed you away before you could do the same. I thought that doing this would avoid unnecessary damages even though I was aware it was going to hurt one of us, if not both. But I felt like I had to do it for myself, for you and for us. And I know lots of time passed by but if you still love me, or at least have a tiny bit of faith left for us, I wondered if you could give me - us - another shot.. Because I miss you and I still love you, I’ve never stopped loving you.” you finished, letting out a big breath you did not know you were holding before focusing on the face of the man who was sitting in front of you.

He was smiling, that smile, you missed that too, you missed him.

“I’ve missed you too Y/N, and I’ve never stopped loving you either. I knew you were going through a rough time and I knew it was best for you and for our relationship to give you time and space. And I am glad I did.” he confessed, putting the brightest smile that had ever been on your face.

“Now get up from that sit and come sit next to me.” he said.

He pulled your closer next to him, turned your face towards his, delicately placed your chin between his fingers before lovingly, passionately kissing you, saying all the things words could not express.

[redvelvetcupcakes21]

Don't ask me why ask me why I wrote this.

But enjoy!

(I think I just got emotional over the parents dropping their kids off for the first time for their first day of school 😭)

The stupid fire was too much for any of them. It had been burning for over 4 days now and Tommy couldn't help but feel his stomach drop as he realized the fire had demolished the row of cabins that were scattered around the woods.

He and his team had managed to save a few people, sadly there was one family that Tommy's team could save except for the infant.

"Having a child is like having your heart walk outside your chest"

It was something he had heard Evan say when it came to Jee and Chris.

He understood it, he had had his own nephew, two nieces, and one God daughter.

He just never experienced it.

Until now.

At first he thought it was because it was out of guilt, they couldn't save the parents in time. And then he thought it was because the baby (he looked maybe 1 or 2 years old) had a port wine birthmark. A reminder of Evan, but unlike Evan the birthmark covered nearly half of the baby's face; just stopping shy of the boys nose and left ear. His hair was dark, as well as his eyes- the opposite of Evan. But Tommy couldn't help but think the kid looked like how Tommy did when he was little.

Or maybe, it had to do with the fact that the kid was deaf. Tommy noticed the hearing aids when they were loading the kid into the helicopter.

-

"Mr. Kinnard, you okay?"

Tommy smiled politely at the nurse and social worker standing outside of Lucas's door.

In the following days since his team had saved Lucas, Tommy had learned a few things 1) Lucas was 2 years old, he was indeed deaf and knew some ASL, 2) he had thankfully came out of the burning cabin with no burns but minimal smoke inhalation and 3) they had found some of Lucas's family- but unfortunately due to financial reasons and location, the family members couldn't take the toddler in.

Yeah, that broke Tommy's heart into pieces because the kid deserved to be with family.

Tommy knew some ASL, he had learned some as a child thanks to his next door neighbors daughter teaching him in the case Tommy wanted to say hi to his neighbor. He had picked more up while in the military during downtime but not enough to carry a conversation. So he had relied on the ASL interpreter when visiting Lucas.

"God, he's adorable." Buck cooed as he kneeled down on the floor where they had a blanket out for him, Lucas, and Tommy. They had decided to buy Lucas some cool toy firetrucks since Lucas had told everyone at the hospital that he was best friends with firefighter Tommy and Buck.

(Tommy would forever remember the moment when Lucas tried to stand up on the hospital bed, excitedly pointing to himself and then at Evan, signing something so quickly that the interpreter had to ask Lucas to sign again for her.

"What did he say?" Buck smiled, letting out a chuckle as Lucas went in for a hug.

"He said you look like him.")

"You know, Tasha said that they're going to begin looking for foster parents for him pretty soon." Tommy tried and failed to sound subtle, they had spoken about having kids in passing. It wasn't a number one priority for them, but it was something they did talk about.

Buck didn't even pretend to look shocked or surprised.

"Uh-Is that your way of talking about becoming foster parents for this cutie?" Buck smiled brightly, he looked at Lucas and signed "Hungry?"

Lucas signed "No." Happily going back to playing with firetruck. He pushed the truck into Tommy's knee, signing to the older man "Look!"

Tommy signed back "it's so cool."

(It surprised absolutely no one that Buck had immediately started to watch ASL videos the moment he learned about Lucas.)

"Are we really doing this?" Buck asked excitedly, he looked at Tommy hopefully. Tommy could see the excitement but fear in his boyfriend’s words.

"Yeah." Tommy nodded, "I think we really are." He smiled back, "We should talk to Tasha, see what we need to do."

Buck nodded, heaving a sigh as he remembered what Hen and Karen had gone through with both Nia and Mara. He wasn't sure if he could handle losing Lucas, but ever he had met Lucas he felt like had finally found the last missing puzzle piece of his heart.

"You ready for this?" Buck asked his boyfriend, he had noticed how attached Tommy was to the kid the moment Tommy had brought him to Buck after returning from his strike team deployment.

Tommy paused to look at Lucas, running his finger gingerly through the boy's dark curls. Lucas looked up and smiled lovingly at Tommy who reciprocated.

"I'm terrified to be honest with you, but I'm ready." Tommy admitted, "it's exciting and terrifying to hope we can become a permanent family."

Buck nodded in agreement. "So we're gonna keep our expectations low then, baby steps through out all this then. Right?"

"Right."

Buck squeezed Tommy's hand in reassurance. "So let's talk to Tasha then.

(Tasha had been ready for them, without a word she pulled a heavy manilla folder from her backpack, "I was wondering when you two would finally ask me about taking Lucas in." She told them excitedly.)

[skulls-soul]

Are there any fanfics in were Bowser signs a peace treaty because he wanted to date Luigi…

Like imagine Bowser is trying to get Mario’s blessing to date his brother because Kamek told him to (do it right this time you’re impatientNess)

Mario, of course says “ over my dead-a body. Will I allow-a you to date my brother”

It was only once he was talking to peach (he took Luigi and himself to the castle for Luigi’s protection that, and he was worried that the princess was gonna get kidnapped again) when she gave him the idea to give him trials and so throughout the entire afternoon Luigi just sat there, watching Mario and peach and daisy who they called up specifically for this conversation on what kind of things Bowser can do to prove himself

Although, at some point, Daisy mentioned about when exactly did Bowser get feelings for luigi, which intern cause everyone to turn to Luigi to see if he had any answers 

Luigi begrudgingly admitted that him and Bowser  would strike up in conversation during sporting events, party games and racing competitions, growing into being a bit of a “situation ship” ( say thanks to @silly-inky for the “Situationship” they mentioned it in a post of theirs, and I loved it too much, that I couldn’t not implicate it into something of mine)

Anyways flabbergasted, they started questioning Luigi on why he would strike up a conversation with the king Koopa. only for luigi to respond with “ you want me to ignore the koopa King or something? I don’t have a Deathwish!”

 They were shocked to hear that Bowser of all people would start up a conversation with one of the Mario brothers, although, in hindsight, it is just as equally as impossible for Luigi to start a conversation, if not more. Not letting the conversation go they poke around for more information

Luigi, without getting too into detail, tells them that it started off with a simple question. Bowser had asked him what he was doing in the sidelines instead of with the others in which Luigi responded with how he wasn’t as popular as the others, and would only be in the way

Mario and princesses didn’t appreciate this “fact” and was quick to tell him

Peach: you could never be in the way!

Mario: you have fans!

Daisy: yeah, me!

Luigi simply just shook his head in which the others were ready to tell him off once more if it wasn’t for the fact that Luigi spoke, saying how Bowser said something similar

Luigi: “ he said how he couldn’t believe someone who fought him was anything but popular”

 once again, the other three humans are caught off guard by Luigi’s words, or more specifically this time by Bowser’s. each of them having the same thought about how oddly kind that was of him

Luigi decides to forego mentioning about how his face immediately went hot with flustered embarrassment at Bowser’s words and instead mentioned that he intern, asked Bowser why he wasn’t with a Koopalings. After all his mama raised him right, if someone strikes up (somewhat) polite conversation with you then you should recuperate if possible

 Mario nods in response to that, the Brother ‘s were nice to the fault for a reason although it seems Luigis kindness surpasses Mario’s by a hair

Luigi: “ so after that, we just kind of started talking more and more sense we seemed to be on the sideline together a lot”

Luigi refuses to give more details, they don’t need to know about the copious amounts of time that the reptilian caused him to blush

Or about all of the flirty comments and what if scenarios that would slip into their conversation

Anyways, (I got a bit side tract sorry) by the end of the conversation that Bowser should sign a peace treaty with a Mushroom, Kingdom and Sahara desert that would lead Bowser in to doing charity work

Princess, peach and daisy were hoping for a an alliance(tho hopes were low) while Mario was hoping for Bowser to stick with his pride for once, since the Koopa king would never!!! Do charity work

 luigi on the other hand was sweating profusely as he hoped that Bowser would pass this trial that will allow them to be happy and open together 

Soon they will see who gets there wishes

[hllywdwhre]

Dreamer, Queen, Prince - Chapter 1

Pairing: Daemyra x fem!OC

Warnings: Please check masterlist for warnings. This work is 18+, MDNI

Masterlist

*112 AC

Viserea leaned down low against the saddle of Tessarion,

“Aderī! (Quickly.)” She shouted, smiling as the wind whipped in her face. Rhaenyra and Syrax were close behind them as they neared the dragonpit and Viserea was determined to win their race. As the four came dangerously close to the pit, Viserea called out to Tessarion again,

“Paerī, nepot. (Slow, to the pit).”

The dragons touched down at the same time and Viserea waited until the two dragonkeepers had Tessarion’s attention before dismounting. Giving her dragon one last loving pat on her neck, Viserea made her way over to where Rhaenyra stood with Lady Alicent Hightower.

Viserea bit her tongue and forced a polite smile onto her face as Rhaenyra and Alicent spoke for a moment more. They boarded the carriage together and Viserea kept her eyes out of the carriage window while they rode through the streets of King’s Landing. She didn’t bother joining in on the conversation. She and Alicent had never seen eye-to-eye on most things and she wouldn’t be the one to make Rhaenyra choose between her two closest friends, so staying quiet during the conversations between the two was the best thing she could think to do. Mayhaps it was jealousy, but Viserea refused to let her mind wander down that path. Every time she thought about it, she was left even more confused than before.

After exiting the carriage, Viserea stayed in step with Rhaenyra and Alicent, participating in their conversation just enough to not be considered rude. They approached Queen Aemma’s door and all three were swiftly let inside the Queen’s chambers. Alicent greeted the Queen, then gave a small bow to the Princesses, excusing herself to allow the two to visit with Aemma.

“My girls,” Aemma greeted with a warm smile which the Targaryens returned. “Must you two continue flying while I am in this condition? You know I do not like it.”

“Your Grace-” Viserea started, only to be stopped when Aemma held her hand up,

“Viserea, you have been my daughter for years now. Unless you wish for me to only address you as Princess, I ask you to stop referring to me as your Queen. Aemma will do fine,” Aemma told her, causing the girl to smile and nod her head.

“You don’t really prefer us flying while you're in any condition, mother,” Rhaenyra pointed out, causing her mother to chuckle, “Did you sleep?”

“I did,” Aemma answered.

“For how long?”

“You know I am the mother here, I do not need looking after.”

“Well all the attendants surrounding you seem to be focused on the babe, I can only count on myself and Viserea to attend to your needs.”

“Soon enough you two will both be going through the same discomfort. It is our duty to the realm,” Upon seeing both girls grimace, Aemma continued, “The knights ride into battle and we fight a battle here, ensuring our legacy lives on, and doing so with a stiff lip. Now go bathe, both of you. You smell of dragon.”

Viserea and Rhaenyra both bid the Queen goodbye and placed a kiss on her forehead before exiting the room.

“I know it is our duty, but I do not want to become a slave to that bed,” Rhaenyra said once they were far enough away that they could not be heard.

“Neither do I. I do not wish to become a slave to my husband either. Only viewed as a title with a womb that can give him and his house more power,” Viserea replied. This was a topic the two had discussed multiple times at depth.

“What is it you wish for in a marriage?” Rhaenyra asked Viserea, looking to her with genuine curiosity written across her features. Viserea blushed lightly as she answered,

“A marriage to rival Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys’. We would be wed in the Valyrian manner with cut lips and palms to bind us to each other. Someone who looked at me and did not view me as just a Targaryen Princess, but looked at me and recognized the power Targaryen Princesses truly held. Aegon did not lock Visenya and Rhaenys away to their bed chambers and force them to provide him with heirs. He had them fight alongside him and gave them a voice in his court by always taking their opinions into account.”

“You seem to have thought about this before.”

“And you have not?” Viserea asked, already knowing the answer.

“I am to be wed to Syrax and cake alone. Never to a man,” Rhaenyra joked, causing both her and Viserea to burst into a fit of laughter.

The two told each other they would meet at the Godswood and Rhaenyra made her way to the Small Council room as it was her day to be the cupbearer for the King.

It was one of the first things Viserys did. After making Viserea a member of his family, he declared both her and Rhaenyra to be cupbearers, saying they could each spend a day by his side, and that if there was a matter of extreme importance being discussed, there would simply be two cupbearers in the chamber.

While Rhaenyra carried out her duties, Viserea was bathed, redressed, and her hair was freshly braided. Ser Ryden met her at her door when she went to exit and begin heading to the tourney.

“Princess, there is someone here that wishes to see you in the throne room,” he informed her as he began guiding her to the throne room.

A wide smile came across Viserea’s face, already knowing who awaited. When she entered the throne room, it was to no surprise of hers that she saw Daemon seated upon the Iron Throne, though she could hear Ser Ryden behind her gasp at the disrespect.

“You play a dangerous game, Uncle. One might think your actions disrespectful and let you feel the wrath of a dragon,” Viserea greeted in their mother tongue of High Valyrian.

“Are we so sure that the Queen is to have a boy? This throne might end up mine yet,” Daemon said, a playful smirk on his face as he looked down at the Princess from where he sat.

“The King said he had a dream that it was a boy. Though he also said the boy was born wearing the crown of Aegon the Conquere so I am unsure of how much faith to place in his dream.”

“Is it not possible that the babe being born with a crown is a metaphor for him being crowned king later in life?” Daemon asked Viserea. She gave a shrug in response,

“Every dreamer is different. My dream of Rhaenyra and I was straightforward, but I do not know what Danys saw. It is alway possible that her dream was not actually of Valyria burning and she was left to decipher the meaning of her dream.” The limited knowledge on dragon dreams was something that had driven Viserea to tears many times; unable to tell if nightmares were just bad dreams, or if her family would truly face the fates she dreamed of.

“Describe the dream again,” Daemon commanded with a voice full of curiosity.

Viserea had explained the dream to him multiple times over by now, yet he asked to hear the story of it every time. She had no qualms with explaining it again and again to Daemon, for he seemed to be the only one, aside from Rhaenyra, who seemed curious about the dreams. Others seemed to be in a state of awe after hearing it and many at court used “meeting the dreamer” as a bragging right to their peers. Daemon and Rhaenyra were the two that helped her look at every possible angle with her dreams, prophetic or not, and decipher if there was another meaning to them. So Viserea retold the story of her dream and the events that had taken place the next day.

“If the whispers are to be believed, I will be gifting you a new saddle for your dragon, soon,” Daemon said, apparently not being able to come up with any other meaning for Viserea’s dream and changing the topic of conversation.

“The dragonmasters say she will outgrow the pit at the rate she is growing and possibly grow larger than Meleys and Caraxes in the coming years. There are many adult dragons down there that Tessarion has grown larger than,” Viserea spoke in the common tongue now, though anyone could have told she was proud of her dragon by the look on her face.

“It seems fitting that the Targaryen princess named for Visenya would hatch and bond to her own dragon that is bound to reach the same size as Vhagar.” Daemon wore a proud look on his face as he spoke.

“I believe Tessarion will outgrow Vhagar and that we are looking at the next Balerion.”

The voice came from behind Viserea and she turned to see Rhaenyra approaching her. “Nice to see you again, Uncle. What has brought you back?”

“The tourney in my honor, Princess,” Daemon answered, stepping down from the Iron Throne.

“He still is not sure that mother's babe is the heir,” Viserea told Rhaenyra, to which she nodded.

“And until she brings forth a son, you are all stuck with me.” Daemon stopped in front of the two girls, looking down at them.

“Then Viserea and I shall both hope for a son,” Rhaenyra said, smirking up at Daemon and causing Viserea to giggle.

Daemon smirked back at Rhaenyra then looked to Viserea with the same fond expression before pulling something out for each of them.

“I brought each of you something. Do you know what they are?”

Viserea and Rhaenyra each reached for the object he held out towards them. He had brought Viserea back a ring and earrings, which she gently took. The steel felt cold in her hands and she realized what it was at the same time as Rhaenyra.

“Valyrian steel,” they said at the same moment.

“So we can all have a piece of our ancestry. Turn around,” Daemon said to Rhaenyra.

Viserea took out the earrings she wore currently and put in the earrings Daemon had brought her while Daemon helped Rhaenyra fasten the new necklace. After he had fastened Rhaenyra’s necklace, he took the ring from Viserea and gently placed it on her hand.

“They were intended to be worn together, but I do believe you two are one of the same. If both of you wear it, the set might as well be worn by the same person,” Daemon remarked, causing both of the girls to look at each other and exchange smiles. “I’ll see you both at the Tourney.” He said, dipping his head respectfully to the girls before leaving the throne room.

Rhaenyra and Viserea looked at each other after they had watched him leave, then began making their way to the Godswood, where they were both due to go over their studies with Alicent.

“How was the Council?” Viserea asked, reverting back to speaking in Valyrian so that the matters handled in the council would stay private.

“The Maester asked about the Rogue’s progress on the City Watch, father brushed it off and said he was ‘occupied’,” Rhaenyra started, distaste clear in her voice and it was obvious to Viserea that Rhaenyra was giving her the nice version of what was really said, “the Sea Snake is worried about a Triarchy in the Stepstones being led by a man who calls himself the Crabfeeder and what it could mean for our ports. No one paid that any mind because soon the Tourney was brought up.”

Viserea interjected before Rhaenyra could continue, “The trading ports? If there is danger near them, I side with the Sea Snake. Those ports cannot be lost.”

Rhaenyra gave Viserea a look that said she agreed, “The Tourney holds father’s attention over the ports. Who wants to think of war when the future king is supposed to be born?”

Viserea did not reply, knowing the question was a rhetorical one. Her thoughts raced everywhere as they continued walking to the Godswood; some of them on Aemma’s labors, others thinking of the Tourney, others thinking of the ports in the Stepstones, and a small portion of her thoughts thinking of the ring on her finger, the necklace around Rhaenyra’s neck, and the earrings adorning her ears.

For once, Viserea was happy to see Alicent. She offered a distraction. Viserea could focus on the stories of the rulers before them instead of the matters at hand. She answered all of Alicent’s questions, and helped Rhaenyra answer the ones she tried to simply play off. Viserea watched as Rhaenyra laid her head in Alicent’s lap and continued brushing off all of Alicent’s questions, even as Alicent grew frustrated.

She stayed seated when Alicent stood up and let a smirk play across her face when Rhaenyra recited Princess Nymeria’s tale of fleeing across the Narrow Sea. Viserea knew Rhaenyra could recite most of the book, and that she was much smarter than she let on, and in the moments she showed it, pride would flow through Viserea.

As they walked back to the castle, the three of them laughed as Rhaenyra cussed the Septa, and let their topic of conversation change to that of who was attending the Tourney.

Viserea was awoken early the next morning, the light of day not even shining through her windows yet. Groggily, she stumbled to the door of her chambers, opening it and finding two handmaidens standing there.

“The Lord Hand sent us to ready you, Princess. A Small Council meeting has been called.” Stepping back, Viserea allowed the handmaidens to enter.

They dressed her quickly, and one of them styled her hair in a simple braid, given the short amount of time they had. Neither of them spoke to Viserea, knowing she was not talkative in the mornings, and Viserea was grateful. She thanked both of them once they were finished and stepped out of her room, being greeted by Ser Ryden.

“You look as lovely as ever, Princess,” he greeted, walking beside her as they made their way to the Council room.

“I do not feel it, Ser. I feel as though I have just been called out of bed before the sun has risen,” Viserea said bitterly, though the knight knew none of the bitterness was directed towards him.

The two met with Otto and the King as they neared the room,

“…it was an unprecedented roundup of alleged criminals of every ilk. Your brother made a public show of it, meting out the summary judgments himself. I'm told they needed a two-horse cart to haul away the resulting… dismemberments when it was done,” Otto said, paying no mind to Viserea as she joined them.

“Gods be good…” She heard Viserys mumble as the entered the Council room.

“The Prince cannot be allowed to act with this kind of unchecked impunity,” Otto continued before being interrupted by the Lord Commander, Redwyne.

Daemon’s presence sent a jolt through Viserea and it took her a moment to remember her duties. She walked to the side of the room and picked up the wine, beginning to fill the cups of the attending council members, though Daemon and Corlys were the only two to acknowledge her with a thanks.

Viserea stopped behind Otto’s chair, her eyes on the blood streak that stained Daemon’s gold cloak.

“Do not let me interrupt, my Lord Hand. You were saying something about my impunity?” Daemon spoke, both he and Viserea watching as Otto looked to the king to continue the conversation.

When he stayed silent, Otto moved to his seat, causing Viserea to have to quickly step to the side to avoid being hit by the chair. Lyonel Strong reached for Viserea’s arm to steady her and Daemon’s look towards Otto turned to a glare.

“You are to explain your doings with the City Watch,” Otto said, paying no mind to Viserea.

“What about them?” Daemons questioned. He sat down along with the rest of the council when the king sat down.

“Your new “gold cloaks” made quite an impression last night,” King Viserys finally spoke.

“Did they?” Daemon replied, causing Viserea to force back a smile.

“The City Watch is not a sword to be wielded at your whim. They are an extension of the crown,” Otto continued before being cut off.

“The Watch was enforcing the crown’s laws. Wouldn’t you say, Lord Strong?” Daemon and Viserea both looked to Lord Strong, who looked taken aback. He stuttered out a “My Prince” before Otto was speaking over him again.

“Making a public spectacle of wanton brutality is hardly in line with our laws,” the Hand said.

Viserea couldn’t help herself as she stood still between the Hand and the Master of Laws and let her eyes flicker between Otto and Daemon.

“Nobles from every corner of the realm are right now descending King’s Landing for my brother’s tourney. Do you want them to be mugged, raped, murdered?” Daemon’s face looked bored as he continued speaking to Otto, “You mightn’t know this unless you stepped out of the Red Keep, Lord Hightower, but much of King’s Landing is seen by the smallfolk as lawless and terrifying. Our city should be safe for all its people.”

“It’s true,” Viserea spoke, causing all heads to turn towards her. The blush that graced her cheeks matched the red in the gems of the jewelry gifted to her by Daemon which she currently wore. “The smallfolk don’t allow their children to roam the streets as they once did.”

“And how would you be aware of this?” Otto asked, looking up at her.

“Princess Rhaenyra and I notice it when we fly above. The children used to chase our dragons through the streets and now their parents keep a hand on them to prevent them from doing so,” She replied confidently, the lie coming easy to her. She would not tell them how she truly knew, though Viserys and Daemon both knew the truth and she could tell by the look the King was giving her.

“I agree that the city should be safe for all of its people, I just hope you don’t have to maim half my city to achieve this,” Viserys said, trying to calm the tension in the room.

“Time will tell,” Daemon answered easily, still looking up at Viserea.

Viserea looked away when Corlys voiced his support for Daemon and made her way around the table to top off anyone’s cups that needed it. She came to a stop next to Daemon when Otto brought up Daemon’s marriage. A sour taste filled Viserea’s mouth but she forced her face to remain blank.

“We understand from Lord Yorkers that you’ve not been seen in the Vale or at Runestone in some time. Queen Aemma was very proud to have arranged your union with Lady Rhea,” Otto continued on.

“I would think my bronze bitch is happier for my absence.” Daemon’s statement caused Lyman Beesbury and Lord Strong to both take sips of their wine, while Corlys and Viserea made eye contact and exchanged similar looks of amusement.

“Lady Rhea is your wife, a good and honorable lady of the Vale-“

“In the Vale, men are said to fuck sheep instead of women. I can assure you, the sheep are prettier.”

“You took a vow before the eyes of the Seven to honor the Lady Rhea in marriage.”

“Lady Rhea doesn’t seem to enjoy the Prince’s company either, is he to force himself on her?” Viserea quipped, an eyebrow raised toward the Hand.

Before Otto could reply, Daemon cut in again, seeing that Otto’s temper was about to turn on Viserea.

“I’d gladly give Lady Rhea to you, Lord Hightower, if you’re in need of a woman to warm your bed. Your own lady wife passed recently, did she not?”

Viserea nor Daemon flinched when Otto jumped from his chair, sending it toppling over.

“Perhaps you aren’t ready to move on just yet,” Daemon said, causing Viserea to cover her chuckle with a small cough.

“You know my brother makes sport of provoking you, Otto. Must you indulge him?” Viserys asked, his own exhaustion at the dynamic evident in his voice.

As Otto utters an apology and picks up his chair, Viserys looks up at Viserea, silently reprimanding her for aiding in Daemon’s comments. The King turned to Daemon and spoke once Otto had sat back down.

“The council has, at great expense, bettered the City Watch to your exact standards. Enforce my laws, but know that any further performances like last night’s will be answered.”

“Understood, Your Grace,” Daemon said, standing up from his spot, “Was there anything else?”

“That is all. You and Viserea can both be dismissed.”

Viserea was not surprised at her early dismissal, knowing it was the response to her comments and to her admitting she was sneaking around the city again.

She placed the wine down on its table and walked to the end of the table, where she took Daemon’s arm that he offered to her. She looked up at him as they left the room, clear confusion written on her face but no answers were given until the doors of the room were shut behind them.

Daemon answered her unspoken question, “I really do enjoy getting under our dear Hand’s skin, and offering the Princess my arm to escort her from the room and show that I do know how to use my manners is a great way of doing so.”

Viserea forced herself not to let the laughter consume her body, though the broad smile she wore showed just how amused she was at Daemon’s actions.

“I am glad I’m not the only one who enjoys watching his face turn red. It was worth being dismissed from the meeting early and any stern words I’ll receive from the King about my sneaking into the city if it means taking him down a peg.”

“You should be more careful, Princess. I am watching how you handle yourself in these meetings, and I cannot offer such a rebellious person a place in my council,” Daemon teased.

“Your council?” Viserea questioned, “Going by the King’s word, it will not be your council. It will be his son’s. I will be promised no place on the future King’s council so I might as well make sure my place is noted in the books. I do not wish to just be remembered as another Targaryen Princess married off to a Lord in order to further whichever King’s political gain.” Though her tone was light, her words held some weight.

“I shall see to it that you are remembered as more than that,” Daemon told her, his words completely erasing the joking atmosphere between the two. Viserea doesn’t doubt his words for a moment, looking up at him and offering him a small smile.

“I look forward to seeing how you carry out that promise,” she told him.

The rest of the day flew by uneventfully for Viserea. She had attended another council meeting of little importance later in the day, and recited the events of the two meetings to Rhaenyra in her chambers before they went to bed.

She did well when the Septa tested her on the histories and the Septa rewarded her with another book from the North, specifically from Winterfell, though this one was clearly written for her. It was a detailed history of the Starks and must have been written by the Starks own maester. The book was heavier than most, but Viserea knew some of that weight was mental. She had learned what she must about her family in her classes, but couldn’t bring herself to study more about them. It made her feel closer to her mother, but she found the cost to be just as large as the reward.

Viserea was never ashamed of who her mother was, in fact, she frequently wore dresses of Stark grey intertwined with Targaryen red to honor her mother and her mother’s family. However, she could only sometimes bring herself to do more than that. She loved Aemma as a mother figure, and she knew that Aemma loved her as if she was her own. Viserea was grateful for the love she received from her father’s family, but that did not fill the hole she felt of not having her own mother there with her. Learning about the Starks made her feel closer to her mother and farther away at the same time.

Viserea was more than grateful for the afternoon dragon ride she was able to take with Rhaenyra, though they kept the flight short in case Aemma’s condition changed at all. The short time in the air helped clear her head and she was back to her usual self by the time they returned to the pit.

That night, after Viserea had told Rhaenyra of the council meeting and they had bid each other a good night, Viserea fell asleep quickly. The sleep did not last long though.

She did not remember what the dream started as, but it quickly turned to one of horror. Aemma in pain, blood soaked sheets, and two pyres being burned by dragonfire at Rhaenyra’s command. She was shaken awake by Ser Ryden, concern written on his face as he checked her over for injuries and started to call for the maesters.

“No, don’t!” Viserea commanded, through a tear soaked face. “It was a dream, nothing is wrong with me.” She said, falling against Ser Ryden and sobbing into the cool metal of his armor.

“I need Nyra and Daemon.” She told him, pulling away. There wasn’t a single protest from him as he left the room to retrieve the two, coming back less than a moment later with a disheveled and concerned Rhaenyra.

“The Prince is not in his chambers.” Ser Ryden said, “I checked them myself on the way to the Princess’.”

Rhaenyra quickly made her way to Viserea’s bed and the two hugged each other tightly.

“Is it bad?” Rhaenyra asked her after a couple minutes of their embrace. Viserea took a shaky breath and nodded,

“Horrible. The other nightmares were nothing like this, they weren’t prophecies, this was.” Viserea told her, pulling away to look at Rhaenyra.

“What is it about?” Rhaenyra asked. Viserea tried to reply, but felt the tears start again and took a couple deep breaths to calm herself,

“I feel like if I say it out loud, it will make it come true and you will hate me for it.”

“I could never hate you.” Rhaenyra said quickly, taking Viserea’s hands in her own. “You see prophecies. They are already set in stone, you do not make them.”

“It’s mother.” Viserea said.

She gave Rhaenyra a moment to decide if she wanted to hear more and, once she nodded for her to continue, told her of the prophecy. She left out the gruesome details, telling her only that she saw Rhaenyra giving Syrax the command to burn their pyres.

“There’s more.” Rhaenyra wasn't asking, she knew that Viserea was withholding part of the dream.

“Trust me and hear me when I say that you do not want to know. It is not something you need to be haunted with.” Viserea’s voice was cold and serious, making Rhaenyra nod.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” Rhaenyra asked her, though she had already begun pulling the blankets back for herself.

“Please.” Viserea replied.

The two girls laid down next to each other, with Viserea pulling Rhaenyra into her side. Neither of them said another word. Neither of them knew what to say. They simply took what little comfort they could in each other’s presence.

Rhaenyra nor Viserea slept much the rest of the night, the two waking each other up due to a bad dream or anxiety the moment the other fell asleep. When their handmaidens saw to them the next morning, both girls looked as exhausted as they felt and neither of them wanted to attend breakfast.

The Princesses’ late arrival to the tourney did not go unnoticed by Viserys, who threw both girls a sidelong glance. Viserea and Rhaenyra both apologized to the nobles they had to climb across and Viserea sat on the side of Rhaenyra not occupied by Alicent.

When Viserea nor Rhaenyra showed much interest in Alicent’s gossip of Lady Elinor being secretly pregnant, Viserea saw her curve her body to face them and she dropped her voice.

“Are you feeling well?” She asked with a voice of genuine concern.

“Rea was sick last night, I stayed with her.” Rhaenyra lied quickly, though Viserea shook her head.

“She can know.” Viserea said, dropping her voice down and turning herself to the two girls beside her. “I had another dream last night. It was… gruesome to say the least.”

“Might I know the subject?” Alicent asked the two.

Viserys stood from behind the three of the girls,

“It has just been told to me that Queen Aemma has begun her labors!” He announced, smiling widely as the crowd cheered loudly.

Upon seeing Rhaenyra and Viserea exchange glances with clear worry written on their faces, Alicent quickly realized what the dream was about.

“Is there a way to stop it?” Alicent asked, but quickly backtracked “Apologies, you two would have already done it if you could.” She told them, taking one of their hands in each of her own.

“I won’t discuss the details of what I did see. They aren’t pleasant.” Viserea looked to Alicent, whose face was laced with curiosity and a sad look.

“She would not even tell me, only that she saw me burning the two pyres.” Rhaenyra said, her voice still dropped low, though all eyes were on the knights dueling below.

The three girls’ attention was drawn away from each other for a moment as the Master of Revels introduced Daemon and watched as he and his horse passed along the knights lined up.

When he pointed his lance to Gwayne Hightower, Viserea forced herself to keep the amused smile off of her face. Alicent was okay sometimes and Viserea had grown used to her presence due to Rhaenyra’s close friendship with her and she trusted her not to wrong them, but that was the nicest she could speak of the Hightower family.

Daemon dismounting Alicent’s brother caused all of the nobles and royals in the box to lean forward and Rhaenyra to gently rub Alicent’s back in a calming manner once her brother stood up.

“Nicely done, Uncle.” Rhaenyra told him.

“Quite a skilled performance.” Viserea said.

“Thank you, my Princesses.” He tells them both, smiling at them after removing his helmet. He lowers his lance towards Alicent, “I’m fairly certain I can win these games, Lady Alicent. Having your favor would all but assure it.”

The same feelings of jealousy that Viserea had spent hours in solitude debating rose as a bile in her throat as she watched Alicent blush and stand up before placing the favor on Daemon’s lance.

“Good luck, my Prince.” Alicent wished him.

Viserea looked to Rhaenyra who was already looking at her. Both of them had frowns on their faces that they forced away when Alicent returned.

As the tourney continued on, Viserea’s favor was given to her cousin, Rickon, who invited her to see Winterfell.

Upon seeing Ser Criston Cole dismount Lord Boremund Baratheon, Rhaenyra called over Ser Harrold and Ser Ryden and questioned if either of them knew of the Cole man.

“We have been asking the same thing, Princesses and my Lady. I’m told Ser Criston is common-born, the son of Lord Blackhaven’s steward. Other than that, and the fact he has now unhorsed both the Baratheon lads, I could not say.” Ser Harrold told the three girls.

The three move to the guard-rail when it is announced that Ser Criston has chosen Daemon to tilt against. Viserea’s attention is drawn away from the fight and she grips the guard-rail tight enough that her knuckles turn white due to the strange feeling taking over body.

“Prince Daemon Targaryen wishes to continue in a melee!” The voice barely breaks through Viserea’s trance while she concentrates on taking deep breaths to steady herself. She hardly registers the rest of the world, only noticing from the sound of the crowd that Daemon had apparently been bested by Ser Criston and feeling Rhaenyra’s hand rest on top of hers.

“Sit.” Rhaenyra commands her, leaving no room in her voice for argument and Viserea doesn’t try to.

She begins to make her way to her seat, but is waved over by Princess Rhaenys, while Corlys stands and allows her to take his seat.

“Thank you, my Lord, but you did not have to give up your seat.” Viserea tells him.

“Nonsense. You looked as though you were about to faint.” Corlys spoke in Valyrian to the Princess, avoiding drawing any concern to them.

“Are you that concerned for your uncle’s wellbeing?” Rhaenys asked though she knew that was not the cause for Viserea’s episode.

Viserea looked to her cousin, her dark hair and lilac eyes complimented each other and the rare combination radiated power that Viserea had nothing but respect for.

“I always worry for my uncle, but no, that is not the reason for my… unease.” Viserea struggled to find the word that fit exactly what she was feeling.

The three of them turned their heads when they noticed Viserys and Otto leaving the box, and though she had not eaten anything since the night before, Viserea still felt she might be sick. She looked back to Rhaenyra and Alicent and was grateful neither of them had seemed to notice the absence.

“It is the Queen. You’ve had another dream and the Princess and Lady know of it.” Rhaenys’ declaration did not surprise Viserea; Rhaenys was a smart, strong, and observant woman.

Corlys’ looked down at Viserea when she nodded,

“You can feel the dream happening?” Corlys asked and Viserea shook her head.

“I don’t feel her labor pains, but I feel that the dream is happening. It did not happen when I predicted our first dragon ride, though I was still a child and the excitement of my first flight was the only thing I noticed.” Viserea looked between Rhaenys and Corlys as they exchanged glances.

The three of them stood as more cheers and screams of the crowd suddenly grew louder. They glanced down and saw that multiple fights had broken out which brought a sneer to Rhaenys’ face.

“Some way to celebrate the birth of our future king.” Corlys said with distaste.

“Their lords sent them to the tourney field with fists full of steel and balls full of seed. None of them have known real war. It is a wonder that war did not break out at first blood.” Rhaenys spoke in the common tongue now and moments later Otto returned to the royal box.

He whispered something into Corlys’ ear and went to the next member of the small council. The unease Viserea felt was gone, washed away by grief. She did not need to hear the Hand’s words in order to know the message he delivered.

A flurry broke out in the royal box and Viserea stood quickly, pushing her way through until she stood just outside of it, awaiting Rhaenyra. Once Rhaenyra joined her, Viserea immediately took her hand, letting Rhaenyra lead the way as she wordlessly followed her.

As they arrive at the Queen’s chambers, Viserea bites her tongue to avoid letting any tears fall. They both step into the doorway but neither cross the threshold. Aemma had already been taken out of the room and Viserea’s grip on Rhaenyra’s hand tightened as the short flashes of blood and pain from her dream began flashing through her head. When Viserys does not move from his spot, Rhaenyra is back to pulling Viserea down the hallways, not stopping until they reach Rhaenyra’s own chambers where she begins pacing in front of her bed.

“I was never good enough for him. A daughter with a womb, never a son with a cock.” Rhaenyra’s words shocked Viserea, but not because of what she said. The anger in her voice was surprising.

Viserea stepped closer to Rhaenyra, stopping her from walking and hugging her tightly. She felt Rhaenyra’s tears soak the shoulder of her dress and the two sat on the foot of her bed and her own tears soon began soaking Rhaenyra’s dress.

The tears eventually stopped flowing and the two of them moved to lay in the middle of Rhaenyra’s bed. Each of them had their arms wrapped around each other while Viserea laid on her back with Rhaenyra’s head on her chest.

“I feel selfish. I was able to know my mother and I grieve the loss of only one. You have now grieved the loss of two and it is you who comforts me.” Rhaenyra spoke, her voice gravelly.

“Our losses are not meant to be competitions, Nyra. You comforted me last night and I was delivering news of Aemma’s and your brother’s loss.” Viserea said, playing with a strand of Rhaenyra’s hair that had fallen.

“I will have to give the command?” Rhaenyra looked up at Viserea as she asked.

“I saw you give the command and since your father’s dragon has passed, the responsibility would fall to you. However, you are the Princess of the Realm. If you wanted me to give the command to Tessarion, I would oblige… and I am sure Daemon would offer Caraxes.”

“No. I will not pass off my responsibilities to someone else so that I may wallow in my own pity.” Rhaenyra said with a firm tone.

Viserea nodded and the two sat up when they heard a knock on the door. Rhaenyra cleared her throat before saying,

“Enter.”

Viserea’s favorite handmaiden, Amarda, entered followed by one of Rhaenyra’s. They each carried a tray of food and gently sat them on one of the tables of the room.

“I thought you two would enjoy your dinner in the Princess’ chambers tonight. The King had his delivered to his own chambers.” Amarda explained, offering a hand to each of the girls to help them stand.

“Thank you, Amarda.” Viserea offered her a small smile which she returned.

Rhaenyra and Viserea ate what they could stomach of their dinners and were briefly separated long enough to bathe and dress in their nightclothes. They joined each other in Rhaenyra’s room again afterwards and eventually received the news that Baelon had also passed.

A second sleepless night was spent together and the handmaidens offered no surprise to see them in Rhaenyra’s room together the next morning as they brought them their breakfast. The two were soon dressed in black dresses and cloaks and being ushered to the funeral.

It was late afternoon by the time everyone was brought out to Rhaenys’ Hill, the morning being spent inside and dealing with nobles offering well wishes to the remaining Targaryens. Viserea did not bother wiping away her tears as the Septon spoke. She kept her posture straight and her head high, her free hand by her side and the other laced with Rhaenyra’s. She did not know if she had offered her hand in an attempt to comfort Rhaenyra or herself, but she was glad when Rhaenyra took it. She could force herself to maintain a regal posture and not be ashamed of her tears, but she could not force herself to stand without the other princess.

The crowd turned to look towards Rhaenyra, signaling it was time for her to say the word, though she made no move.

“They’re waiting for you.” Daemon spoke gently from behind the two.

Viserea saw Rhaenyra’s jaw clench in anger and she ran her thumb across the other’s knuckles. Daemon stepped to stand on the other side of Rhaenyra and offered his arm to her.

“Come. We’ll go together.”

“I wonder if, for those few hours my brother lived, my father finally found happiness.” Rhaenyra snapped, her breathing getting deeper.

Viserea kept quiet, agreeing with Rhaenyra’s words, but knowing her input would help nothing.

“Your father needs you… more now than he ever has.” Daemon said, looking to Viserea next, “Both of you.”

“We are not sons.” Rhaenyra said, dropping Viserea’s hand and stepping forward.

Daemon takes a step towards Viserea so they stand shoulder to shoulder. They both watch as Rhaenyra raises her head to speak and then pauses. Viserea can sense it before it happens and grabs Daemon’s wrist, stopping him from going to her again.

“Daor. (No.)” Viserea said, stopping Daemon. She knew Rhaenyra needed to do this on her own and that she would not appreciate the help.

“Dracarys.” Rhaenyra spoke. The dragon stepped forward, letting out a low moan, as if feeling Rhaenyra’s pain herself. A moment later and the dragon’s fire was cascading over the two pyres.

Viserea did not move from her spot as others began leaving the hill. She reassured Rhaenyra she would be inside soon and saw from the corner of her eye Alicent and Rhaenyra walk off together. Daemon did not move from Viserea’s side. When the hill finally emptied and the last of the smoke rose from the ashes left of the two members of their family, Viserea finally spoke.

“The gods are cruel. I have now attended four funerals for my family, and there is no positive to outweigh the grief. Rhaenyra and I both grieve the loss of a mother, I grieve the loss of a father, and the father Rhaenyra so desperately needs has never learned to appreciate her. ‘The Realm’s Delight’ they call her, and he has never opened his eyes to see how true those words are.”

“He loves her, loves both of you-“ Daemon started, though he was cut off by a harsh laugh from Viserea.

“I have no doubt in my mind that he loves us, but he does not love us the way he would have loved Baelon. He does not love me the way he loves Rhaenyra. He has already begun discussing possible future betrothals for Rhaenyra, but does not mention any for me. He may love us, but he treats her as no more than a political pawn and he does not even treat me as that. His first royal decree on the very day he was made King was that I was part of his family and I was to be treated in the same respect as Rhaenyra, and it is he himself who failed that.” Viserea’s words were laced with bitterness as she stared ahead with a few more fresh tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

“The two of you do not see how much he truly loves you.” Daemon replied, his voice sincere.

“He did not notice anything was wrong with me at the tourney. Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys noticed before he did. She was the one who put it together that I had another dream. Alicent noticed that something was wrong before he did! Alicent whom I do not speak to unless I must! The man who I am supposed to view as a father saw nothing wrong with me or his blood born daughter!” By the end of the rant, Viserea was shouting through tears and grateful that the hill was empty.

Viserea felt Daemon pull her towards him and she allowed herself to melt into his embrace and wrap her arms around him in return. After a couple minutes, Viserea had calmed down and she pulled away from him, wiping away any sign of her tears.

“You had another dream?” Daemon asked her, not commenting on her previous show of emotion.

“Yes. I called for you and Rhaenyra last night, but you were not there. I did not tell Rhaenyra the full extent of it and I never will. She doesn’t need to know what her mother went through in her final moments.” Viserea said, her tone surpassing its previous bitterness and turning to one bordering hate by the end.

“What was the full dream?” His voice was cautious, as if he was afraid that asking would only make her angrier.

“The babe was in breach. They were both going to die no matter what, but Aemma was never told that. He held her down like a pig for slaughter as the Maester suggested a new way being practiced in the citadel. She died terrified and in pain. Her screams will not leave my nightmares anytime soon.” Viserea told him.

“You do not plan to forgive him for this.” It wasn’t a question that Daemon asked. He already knew the answer.

“You and Rhaenyra are the only Targaryen family I have left.” Looking up at him, Viserea’s lilac eyes were cold and Daemon understood that her words were true to her.

[yesimwriting]

yes i want more felix and oliver !!

a/n i love when people enable me :)

this could be read as taking place at some point after match burns (though this isn't part 2!) but can also easily be read on its own

---

The world has been dulled by a drowsiness so thick and full it's disorientating. You're so tired, so trapped in the state between falling and asleep that it's hard to think. Despite this, he somehow manages to be a bright spot, so warm and safe any and all thoughts of dangers lurking in the shadows are slowly vanishing.

You don't remember Felix getting here. You're not sure when he entered your room through your shared bathroom or when he laid down next to you or when he started tracing soothing patterns against your shoulder. All you know is that there was a nightmare that latched onto the ghosts estates this grandiose and ancient seem to attract and then there was Felix.

By morning, when you'll no longer need Felix to serve the purpose of daylight, you'll be embarrassed. Even now, you're still half-aware of the fact that there's a lot about this that you should find mortifying. Felix knowing to come in and wake you means you must have been showing signs of distress while asleep. Having a nightmare during your first night at Saltburn is a little pathetic, but it's something you can live with. However, needing Felix to stay with you until you fall asleep is a juvenile kind of pathetic that you don't think you could get through.

"Thanks for..." Your voice feels small and far away, but you don't think you can manage anything more concrete. "Waking me up."

Felix's fingertips continue the pattern they've been outlining against your skin without hesitation. "It's nothing," he whispers, "You were tossing and turning so much." Yeah, you'll definitely be embarrassed tomorrow. "Feel better now?"

You manage a nod. "Yeah..." Your eyes fall shut, you have to force yourself to open them again. "Better." Maybe if you sat up or--or moved away, you'd be able to focus. You shift, but you're too tired and, honestly, comfortable for it to be productive. "So, if you...if you want to go back...that'd be okay."

The lack of desire to get the words out paired with the need to remain polite, to make sure that he doesn't think you don't appreciate the gesture makes the words feel awkward. Felix's hand moves down to your arm. He angles his head forward, so close you can feel his breaths against your cheek. "Do you want me to?"

His words are soft, voice low and slightly gravelly. You're reminded of Felix in a world that feels so far from the one you're currently in, seeing him at parties, around the girls he'd pick from time to time.

There would always be a flurry of them around him, but you could always tell which one he was actually entertaining because of the way he'd become attentive. His ability to make someone seem like the only person in the world has always been fascinating. It's a talent that's more than romantic, too. It's part of the reason everyone always wants to be around him.

"No." The confession is faint as it accidentally tumbles past your lips.

The honesty of it knots something in your stomach. It's more than fear or the inability to fall asleep. You want Felix to stay. That's it. There's no reason or justification for it, you just...you want Felix.

But there are social boundaries, and things that you can't do with friends. Intentionally sleeping in the same bed, especially as close together and touchy as the two of you are being, is definitely one of those things.

There has to be a way to explain it without tiptoeing into territory that you're incapable of handling. Especially when it comes to Felix, who you spent an entire semester trying not to fall in love with. You survived by the skin of your teeth just to be invited to spend the summer with his family. You feel like an idiot for thinking you'd be able to get through this.

"Okay." He says it like it's that easy, like that's the only thing worth considering. "Then I'll stay." You're not sure if he can sense your uncertainty, but he's quick to tack on a justification, "Need you well rested." The vague feel of embarrassment attempts to nip at you again. "I know it can be hard to get used to it here."

It's a phrase that would seem like a blanket statement of instinctual politeness from anyone else, but from Felix it feels real, his understanding almost tangible. It's enough to make you fully ease.

"It's still nice, though." An understatement you would've never let slip past you if your eyelids weren't growing heavier by the second. Nice is such a bland term, it almost feels like an insult, especially when considering the fact that you're not just talking about his home. "I'm glad you invited me."

His touch has now moved to concentrate on your forearm. "I'm glad you came." A beat of silence stretches between you, your eyes finally falling shut. Felix's fingertips brush against the inside of your wrist. If you were any more awake, the carefulness of the touch would have gotten to you. "It is still nice."

----

The lack of light bleeding into the hall from beneath the door that leads to Felix's room makes the air entering Oliver's lungs feel stale.

It's late enough that the darkness could mean nothing. Felix's extra curriculars of choice have him in the habit of keeping strange hours. It's more common than not for him to up until the wee hours of the nights, even if there's nothing for him to do. However, from time to time the long nights will catch up to him and he'll fall asleep early.

Oliver can almost convince himself that that's all this is, can practically picture Felix fast asleep above the covers and only half undressed. He would be able to believe it if it wasn't for the soft glow illuminating the space beneath the door that leads to your room.

A familiar tightness forces his ribs to contract. Oliver swallows, stepping towards the door to Felix's room. He knows you to be a late night reader from time to time...

His hand is now grasping the door handle. There's nothing inherently strange about what Oliver's doing. Felix did say to come find him if Oliver had trouble sleeping. He pulls the door open slowly, taking his time to make sure that the creek of the old hinge's stays as quiet as possible.

Oliver peers into the room. The darkness isn't easy to see in, but eventually he makes out slightly tousled sheets on an empty bed and the door to the bathroom cracked open.

Of course it'd take so little time for you to completely pull Felix into your orbit. An entire semester of Felix doting on you and you managed to commit to keeping him at arm's length. One night in his family's home and you're suddenly no longer cautious. Maybe you're not as noble as you try to seem.

He's approaching the door to the bathroom, unsure if seeing it would be as unbearable as imagining it. Felix's hands on you, your body pressed against his.

"Hello?" Felix's voice carries over from the other side of the bathroom, slightly confused but casual. "Oliver?"

Oliver swallows, blood running cold despite the fact that all that he's been caught doing is justifiable. He forces himself to walk forward, to open the door to the bathroom fully. "Yeah."

Oliver crosses over, opening the door to your bedroom with an uncomfortable lump in his throat.

What he sees isn't--Felix is sitting up, the bedside lamp closest to him turned on, an open book held in one hand and your sleeping form holding onto the other. It's not the coming together, the snapping of tension and desire he had been imaging. In many ways, its something worse.

"Couldn't sleep?"

Swallowing down the influx of emotion that Oliver isn't capable of dealing with, he nods blankly. "Yeah. Still adjusting."

"It's normal," Felix replies easily, "She couldn't sleep either."

Felix's solution for you not being able to sleep was to crawl into bed with you. It shouldn't matter, he's seen the two of you get away with displays of affection more nauseating than this on campus. Lingering kisses against each other's cheeks and foreheads and jaws during a night out, holding onto each other at the few parties you agree to attend, Felix tucking you into bed after you drink. But this is--this is a touchiness not hidden under the guise of alcohol.

Oliver nods again. "Oh."

"Fell asleep quickly, though." Felix's thumb brushes up your arm. "Jet lag paired with Farleigh sneaking her one too many glasses of wine." Another empty tilt of Oliver's chin. "Y'can come here, if you want."

The offer comes out so casually, Oliver starts to wonder if he missed something. "What?"

Felix sighs, a hint of some lighthearted humor in the sound. "It doesn't need to be a thing, it's just sleep."

It can't possibly be that casual to him, can it? Especially with the level of care in the way Felix is touching you. And even if it is just a matter of sleep, this is still your room. "What about--"

"She won't mind," Felix dismisses easily. "She likes you." It's one thing to be friendly with someone, another for them to crawl into your bed after you've fallen asleep. "She'll get it."

Oliver's still not sure, his confusion affecting his ability to figure out which reaction will be what Felix wants most. He deliberates for a moment before stepping forward, approaching the other side of the bed.

Now that the overwhelmingness of the domesticity is starting to wear off, you do seem different in your sleep. More vulnerable. It isn't an unappealing way to see you.

He pulls the sheets back carefully, you stir regardless. You shift away from Felix's touch, moving onto your side. Of course you'd wake up just in time to take this from him, too.

You wipe at your eyes tiredly before squinting them open. It takes a moment for you to place yourself, but once you do, the slight confusion behind your eyes is nearly drowned out by an oddly warm confusion. "Oliver."

You bend an arm in an attempt to prop your head up. It takes you a second, but you eventually manage. Farleigh must have encouraged to have a little more than just a few extra glasses of wine at dinner.

"Y'okay?" Your tone is more kind than confused as you stare up at him with sleep still in your eyes.

The answer should be easy. Oliver should be working at accepting Felix's suggestion. The words are there, balancing on the tip of his tongue, but instead of getting them out, he's too focused on you.

It's a curious attention. Half asleep, hair tousled, makeup washed off, and the oversized shirt you're sleeping in sliding down your shoulder. All of these things should make you seem smaller, less eye drawing. Instead, being dressed down just adds a softness to your aesthetic appeal.

Maybe what makes you so appealing to Felix isn't as hard to grasp as Oliver originally thought. The thought twists in him strangely, jabbing at a part of him and encouraging another.

"Ollie couldn't sleep either." Felix gently squeezes your forearm. "I was asking him if he wanted to stay in here tonight, but he didn't want to overstep."

You blink, stiffening slightly for the first time since you woke up. The implications of Felix's statement take a second to fully sink in, but once it does, Oliver can see the hesitation coloring your features. "Oh."

Felix traces a pattern up your arm. You turn your head to look at Oliver again. "You've seen me before a 9:00 AM lecture after a night out and at every stage of finals week grief, I'm not sure there are any boundaries left."

You sit up, pushing yourself close to the center of the bed in a wordless invitation. Oliver swallows before letting himself sit down at the edge of the bed. He takes his time moving beneath the sheets. Your scent clings to the fabric.

The bed's not small, but with the three of you, it is a bit of a squeeze. It's reminiscent of being a little kid crawling into bed with a parent after a bad dream.

"You are pretty harsh during exams." Felix's voice is light, bordering on teasing.

Your mouth falls open in a mock gasp. You twist your arm, trying to push Felix off. He grins, easily resisting your halfhearted attempts to get him off of you. "I am not that bad." You're still pretending to want Felix to let go when you look back at Oliver. "Am I?"

To be honest, during finals you're constantly preoccupied. Even when you're meant to be spending time with friends, it's clear that your mind's stuck on assignments and exams. You're also prone to irritability. The only actual argument Oliver's ever had with you was mainly caused by the stress of an essay you were trying to finish. You apologized almost immediately after, but it's still the most angry he's ever seen you be.

The truth doesn't feel relevant. "You're perfectly lovely all times a'year."

You grin, Felix lets out a sound that's equal parts laugh as it is groan. "Don't tell her that. It'll go to her head."

You gently push at his shoulder, Felix exaggerates a pout.

Like all the praise you receive on a daily basis hasn't already gotten to you. You may not have a family name that carries weight, but you do have the way that people see you, a regular dorm hall darling with the grades and social circle to match.

You don't bask in the praise or let it change your outward appearance, but it has to inflate your ego. You've never implied that you come from a family that struggles financially, but you're not like Felix either. Holding your own with his kind must give you an inflated sense of self.

But this is another truth that serves no purpose. Not with Felix's teasing yet content smile and the attentive way you're watching him.

Oliver extends an arm, placing a hand on your knee. You sit up a little more, uncertainty briefly making it easier for you to be awake. It's not that you're never touchy with Oliver, it's that he's rarely the one to start it. "Oh, she's too much of a sweetheart."

It's honest enough. You are too nice to let anything openly go to your head. The words get you to finally relax at the contact. You must have decided that Oliver's just in a friendly mood. "Thank you." You then turn your head to look at Oliver, "See? Some people think I'm nice."

Felix rolls his eyes, letting his hand fall off your arm for the first time since Oliver's arrival. It's a small shift, but some subconscious part of you seems to notice, eyes instinctually searching for his hand.

"Since when are you on her side?" The comment, delivered with a tone that isn't quite teasing enough to cover the tinge of annoyance that still manages to bleed into the words, only confirms Oliver's theory.

Felix is used to being at the center. Everyone's eyes are always on him, everyone's affections are constantly available. He isn't one to be jealous in a committed way, Oliver's heard about enough of Felix's open flings to know he isn't like that. But he's territorial about those he feels attached to. If Felix Catton deems you worthy of his care, you make sure to make it clear to anyone else that that's all that matters.

The brief flash of defensiveness makes Oliver feel like he's standing a little straighter, a little stronger. "There are no sides."

"Yeah." You shift, leg moving off of Felix's as you try to sit up a little more. Felix's brow furrows.

It hits Oliver, then, that even though you want Felix's approval, you might not need it the way everyone else does. That must be part of the reason Felix is so drawn to you. Or maybe you're just that sure in yourself, in your place in his life that you're willing to push from time to time if the setting feels light enough.

But you're not happy with tension between the two of you, not even the kind that's barely implied. Oliver doesn't think he's ever seen the two of you argue, or look anything outside of completely content in each other's presence.

"We're just joking," you mumble, angling your neck awkwardly to look at Felix.

"Yeah, so am I."

Your gaze shifts over to Oliver, something knowing behind your eyes that he can't quite return. "Mhm."

Felix lets out an exaggerated breath before relaxing his spine and laying down. "Fuck off," he mumbles, the passive aggressiveness forced into the syllables not enough to hide his genuine fondness.

You look over at Oliver, "Can you believe him?"

A combination of being emboldened by the safety of your approval and the urge to feel as indispensable as you are makes Oliver want to joke back. "He seems moody, must be tired."

You laugh again, this time your body leaning towards Oliver until your head lands on his shoulder.

"Fuck off," Felix says again, "Both of you." His annoyance is still undercut by something warm.

Your head is still on Oliver's shoulder, the weight of it impossible to ignore but not exactly uncomfortable. You've stilled significantly, a fact that makes Oliver wonder if you've fallen asleep like that.

Then, you break the silence, "We're kidding."

"I've heard that before," Felix counters flatly. He stretches an arm, reaching for your fingers. "Liked you better asleep."

Felix squeezes your hand, keeping you awake enough to respond. "I'm sure the quiet was nice."

He sits up slightly, "You snore a little."

You're so offended, you lift your head off of Oliver's shoulder. "I. Do. Not."

Oliver waits a beat before adding, "Well."

You turn to look at Oliver, your offense clear. "How would you know?"

"Remember after that one party? You were so out of it, you needed help getting into your room and passed out before I could go." The memory is relatively recent, an end of semester party that you used to celebrate the end of your finals induced hibernation.

You pout. "You two are mean."

Felix runs his thumb across your knuckles. "Extremely." You part your lips like you have something else to say, but you're cut off by a yawn. "We should go to bed."

You tilt your chin up slightly, a potential protest that fizzles out almost immediately. "Yeah." You're tired, there's not even the good humored kind of fight left. "It's late."

You sink into the mattress, eyes shutting immediately. Oliver watches for a second, still unsure in a way he isn't used to. There's something about this kind of softness that isn't easy to place himself in.

Felix leans over, setting his book down on the nightstand. "Are you both settled?"

You nod, eyes still closed. Oliver's a little slower to react, "Yeah."

Felix switches off the bedside lamp. Darkness enshrouds the room. The bed groans slightly as Felix adjusts himself. Oliver follows, moving so that he can lay down fully.

He's closer to you than he's ever been. Your warmth radiates beneath the sheets in a way that's strangely soothing. Oliver isn't sure how he felt so awake just minutes ago. His eyelids are growing heavy. The last thing Oliver registers before falling asleep is Felix's hand on his shoulder, a too brief yet somehow still lingering squeeze that serves as a silent good night.