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amphxtrite · 4 years

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cedric diggory x fem!reader

part two: Dreamiest Boy in School.

warnings: smut, shower sex, swearing, oral (female receiving), masturbation.

If you are not comfortable please do not read.

summary: Cedric’s been in love with you for years. What will he do when he catches the reader moaning his name after a quidditch game in the prefect’s bathroom. Fluff at the end.

a/n: characters are 18+ and it is fully consensual.

word count: 4.2k

enjoy<3

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Cedric first met you in his fifth year when he’d first been appointed captain of the hufflepuff team, it was your first time trying out despite also being in your fifth, but it was no secret that it wasn’t your first time on the pitch. You were a natural, blocking quaffles with ease, letting none enter the goal. Your movements were smooth, elegant, but forceful, effectively getting the job done, but truly showing off the art of flying. Cedric had to forcibly pinch himself after you touched down.

Today was a rough game against gryffindor, It went on much longer than it needed to with Ms. Pink Toad calling random people from the pitch and ‘hem hemming’ every time someone managed to score a goal. When Cedric had eventually caught the snitch, he had to deal with a ten minute long speech from Umbridge speaking of his bravery and strength, he cut it short after she began to run her hands over his face.

Now came Cedric’s favourite part of the game, his friends had already congratulated him on the win, but he was close by you and your friends as you touched down from the goal post. You were distributing high-fives to everyone, even throwing Cedric a quick thumbs up before running to your gym bag and taking a long sip from your water bottle. Here it comes, your pupils glance from side to side, scanning the area before grabbing the hem of your jersey to dab at the sweat running down your face. No one on the team cared you did this, but you still felt weird randomly pulling your jersey up to clean off your face. You did this after every practice and game, and although he didn’t mean to intrude Cedric found himself gazing at you often.

Cedric takes his bottom lip into his teeth as he looks to the grass beneath him, his thoughts running wild. He pictures what it would be like if he was the one pulling at your shirt, slowly pushing it up your gorgeous body as you beg him to take it off, rolling your hips desperately against his. The seeker’s pants were starting to get a little more constricting at the thought.

Ever since his first time seeing you at the pitch, he’d find himself thinking of you this way a lot. His name spilling from your lips, mouth agape, legs quivering. It kept him awake often, thinking about you. Imagining the feeling of your lips pressed to his as he rocked his hips in and out of you. He didn’t appreciate the sinful thoughts encasing his mind every time he saw you, it drove him insane. Any time you licked your lips, shook out your hair, smirked or even simply laughed, he’d have to excuse himself to rid of the heat from his face.

It was even worse the two of you had become close friends in the last two years, you were the person to help and train him for the triwizard tournament, working out with him often and supporting him through his challenges, also being his unofficial ‘date’ to the ball. You pushed him well, preparing him for the physical challenges that lay ahead in the contest, but only having his crush grow as you worked by his side and hugged him good luck. After he won, you were one of the first people he went to after his father. You had jumped into his arms and held him tight as he recounted the story of how Voldemort had stunned him and Harry had saved his life. Upon finishing the story, you had kissed him on the cheek and whispered.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. I don’t know what I’d do if you were gone.”

He knew then that he was never going to let you go.

Cedric did his best to put your friendship first, reminding himself of your platonic status and your great history. He couldn’t jeopardize it all, even if he fancied you. Running himself a cold shower after stripping down his robes in the prefect’s bathroom, he tries to place his thoughts in a different headspace. He ignores his surroundings as he tries to rid himself of the dirty images, letting the cold water stream onto his face. It was practically useless, his mind drifted back to your lips pulled between your teeth or how your lips felt against his cheek after each hit of cold water. With one small thought, his arousal and need grows.

Sighing quietly and shutting the tap off, the hufflepuff head boy wraps a towel around his waist as he picks up his bag to begin getting changed. Halfway to zip open his bag, he can hear a shaky voice calling, not to far away.

“Oh f-fuck Ced.”

Body immediately going rigid, the wide-eyed boy regains his train of thought and remembering where he is, glancing around the showers. The voice was so familiar, close.

So... dream-like. Sifting through his memories to match the voice, he thinks of people close to him that were also prefects or head girls, the only person to came to mind was you, but that was impossible. What were you doing saying his name so beautifully.

“Faster, please.” The voice rang out again in a softer mewl. The brunette’s cheeks light on fire as the voice finally registers in his ears, no doubt it was your soft cry. Despite his better judgment, Cedric needed to check this out. To make sure he wasn’t just imagining your voice begging for him.

As he approaches the shower he hears the voice from, he can hear a heavy pant and a shower getting louder. Standing before the closed curtain. His hand hovering over top the thin material, he mentally debates this, perhaps he was wrong. He might’ve misheard, and the he’d be barging in on a random girl. Pulling his hand away he turn to leave, but another moan perks his attention.

“F-fuck Cedric, I-I’m gonna c-cum.” A quivering whimper, cries his name again.

He’d heard you say his name about a million times, cheering him on, talking to him, laughing out his name. That was you inside, about to cum to his image.

Not able to take it anymore and he rips open the shower curtain, his cock springing up under the towel and pure desire taking over his senses. There you were, damp hair streaming down your shoulders, leaning against a wall with one hand on your breast and the other deep between your legs, pushing in and out at a rapid pace, practically sobbing for release.

“Are you masturbating?”

You barely register the soft question, but as your eyes open they instantly flash with horror and you immediately pull your hands away from your body, meeting gazes with a wide-eyed Cedric. A flood of embarrassment consumes you, he must have heard you. Merlin, you felt disgusting.

“Oh my gosh Cedric I’m so sorry!” You apologize frantically, rushing to grab your towel and cover yourself as tears of self-consciousness begin to well in your eyes. “I didn’t- I’m so sorry.” You try and push him out of your way, but Cedric will not let you pass, his grey eyes still staring holes into you. Agonizing seconds pass as he simply looks you down, your head swiveling around to look anywhere but his stoic gaze.

Finally smirks in amusement, Cedric reaches over and takes your chin in between his fingers, forcing your head up to meet his eyes, you ready yourself for a lecture, or maybe screams, but it doesn’t come.

“I like the way you said my name.” Cedric teases, pushing you back into the running shower.

“Hands between your thighs and on your breast, were you thinking about this?” Cedric purrs, pushing you against the smooth wall and pressing his chest against yours, slowly rocking his hard on against your sensitive clit with the rough towel around his waist.

“Imagining me taking you in the shower, fucking you against the wall and whispering dirty thoughts into your ear?” He continues in a low voice, continuing the gentle rock of his hips.

Your mouth drops open at Cedric’s reaction and the waves of pleasure clouding your senses. “Answer me.” Cedric growls, pushing harder against you and encasing you in his arms, his elbows by your head and his forearms against the wall. “Y-yes, I-I was.” your soft voice breathes out. “Yes, who?” Cedric grins, his eyes growing dark with lust as he watches you writhe beneath him. “Yes Cedric.” You moan as the toned hufflepuff continues to roll his hips slowly, an approving smirk spreading on his lips.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wished to do this love.” Cedric begins to nip at your neck, sucking and kissing around until he finds the spot that makes your breath hitch. You bite your lip to suppress the upcoming moan.

“Stop.” Cedric’s needy voice growls at you. “The only one who’ll be biting those lips is me.” He states, desire lacing every word.

Roughly pushing his lips against yours in a heated kiss, his warm tongue swirls around your mouth, drinking in your intoxicating taste and gliding his rough fingertips up and down your body, memorizing every curve before coming to rest on your hips. Your teeth clash, pleasure and heat travel to your core, fueling your arousal as a hard member prods at you from under Cedric’s dangerously low towel.

“Besides, I want the whole castle to know you’re mine.” The grey-eyed hufflepuff bucks his hips into yours again making you squirm. “C-Cedric!” You cry out, wrapping your arms around his muscular shoulders and digging your nails into your champion’s back, the steam in the shower clouds your perception even more, all you could sense was Cedric’s body against yours, every muscle every scar. Cedric’s teasing lips pull up again as you begin to ramble.

“I-I need you.” you beg nervously, grinding your hips against the soaked material of Cedric’s towel.

“Would you like my fingers or my tongue love.” Cedric’s cool digits brush the inside of your thighs, you nearly jump at the feeling. “Both.” You manage to whimper out as Cedric’s hard stare bores into you.

“Dirty girl.” He smirks teasingly, his voice smooth as satin and dark as sin. “Beg for it.”

You could feel your arousal growing at Cedric’s words. You’d never seen him as the type to wish his partner to beg, but Merlin you weren’t complaining.

“Please Cedric, I need you. You make me feel so fucking good, please don’t stop, let the whole castle know who I belong to.”

Your champion’s eyes go from a piercing grey to almost black as lust and arousal course through his veins. He slowly lowers himself to the ground, pressing kisses all the way down to where you needed him most. Cedric takes his time spreading your legs apart and kissing up your inner thighs and blowing on your clit, sending shockwaves up your trembling form. He looks back up at you as he leans forwards and licks a stripe through your folds and begins to swirl his tongue around your clit. Your thoughts run cold, all that consumes your mind was the ecstasy running through your veins, Cedric flicking his tongue around your sex, fucking you with his tongue and lapping hungrily at your sweet juices.

“Oh fuck Cedric, please don’t stop.” Your mewling voice begs needlingly, breathing heavily to keep yourself from falling over.

Cedric smiles into you and slowly teases his fingers around your entrance, tracing along the edge of your slit before sinking two long digits into your wetness. spots flash in front of your eyes as your head falls back against the wall. Cedric pulls and pushes his fingers in and out of you at a quick pace, twisting them around and bending slightly as your walls grow tighter around him. He uses his body to keep your legs from doubling over in pleasure and continues to ravage you with both his tongue and fingers. flicking and sucking at your bundle of nerves while thrusting his fingers in and out of your core. A familiar knot begins to form and you dig your hand into Cedric’s damp hair, pulling him closer to you and desperately rocking your hips against his face, desperate for any more friction he could give you. Cedric chuckles at your moaning form. Sending even more delicious vibrations to your sensitive clit, as moans mix with longing cries of your lover’s name. Cedric pulls his mouth away, bringing himself to a standing position, still burying his fingers in you, replacing his tongue with his calloused thumb to massage your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“You don’t know what you do to me darling. How does it make you feel that you give me a hard-on every time you lift that shirt up to wipe your face? Every time you bite that gorgeous lip, or flip your hair you’d have me wanting to bend you over and fuck you senseless.”

You try and respond, but the pleasure Cedric was giving to you was all your mind could take. The sound of his fingers pounding into your wet core and Cedric’s deep pants were driving you insane. You can only moan in response and crash your lips against his again. You can taste yourself as Cedric dips his tongue against yours, nibbling on your lip and picking up his pace with his fingers. A familiar knot forms in your abdomen and you have to pull away from Cedric’s lips to moan and arch your back even more, you can feel your walls clenching tighter against the rough fingers pounding in and out of you.

All at once the knot snaps and waves upon waves of euphoria washes over you and consuming your vision in white. Crying out Cedric’s name over and over again, the brunette helps you ride out your high, continuing to pulse his fingers in your clenching hole and kneeling down again to lap up your juices as you moan out and rock your hips gently, Cedric’s cock begins to twitch like mad watching he waves of cum spill from your core, but he takes his time, savoring every drop of your sex.

Cedric is practically beaming with pride as he stands again, holding the back of your head in his large hand.

“So sweet love.” He smirks, wiping a drop of your cum off of his bottom lip with his thumb and licking it off slowly, keeping direct eye contact with you. Your face was red, your legs quivering, and deep breaths sounding from your lips.

“I’m not done with you yet darling.” Cedric drops the towel from his waist and boxes you in his arms again.

“You won’t be able to walk when I’m through with you.” The toned seeker teases in a dark voice.

Feeling his length against your stomach you bite back a moan, fuck he was big. You were unsure what to do, but taking his twitching cock into your hand, you pump his length experimentally, receiving a soft moan in return. Picking up the pace, you spread the precum on his tip as a lubricant. Working your hand against him, he reconnects your lips, a soft whimper flowing from Cedric’s lips. You keep using your hand to pleasure your champion, but Cedric can’t take it anymore.

“I need to be inside of you darling.” Cedric rasps, reluctantly pulling your hand from his throbbing tip and wrapping his arms around you.

“jump.”

Without hesitation you leap up and wrap your legs around Cedric’s hips and he presses you against the wall for support.

“Ready Love?” Cedric smirks, his hands squeezing your ass and cock teasing your soft folds.

“Shut up and take me Diggory.”

Cedric wastes no time sinking into you, slowly at first, letting you adjust to his thick shaft, small grunts sounding from your lips as Cedric sink deeper.

“You’re taking me so well darling, f-fuck.” Cedric groans, sticking his head in the crook of your neck, nibbling on your sensitive skin and squeezing your hips.

Tears prick in your eyes as Cedric bottoms out in you, burying your hand in his wet brown curls you whimper at the feeling of being so full.

After a couple moments the pain turns to pleasure and you shimmy around motioning to Cedric it’s okay to move. The brunette begins to thrust in and out of you, slow at first, but soon finding a rhythm, pulling in and out of you in a quick pace, thrusting out to almost his tip before burying himself to the hilt inside you once again.

“Faster Cedric.” your pleading voice gasps and pleads.

Cedric obliges, snapping his hips back and forth to the point you see spots in your vision and you’re dragging your nails down your champions back. Cedric frantically presses his lips against yours again as he groans loudly. You swallow the moan in the kiss and cup your hands around Cedric’s defined jawline, pulling him closer and clenching your core in surprise as he pushes his thumb to your clit.

Your reaction pulls another breathy moan from Cedric, but his thrusts don’t stop. He continues to pound into you, his desire out weighing any tiredness that should’ve been.

Your loud moans only egg him on further. Your sinful, desperate pleas for more drive him insane. Arching your back and rolling your hips, Cedric pounds even further into you.

“Fuck Cedric, right there.” Your loud beg cries out and Cedric smirks, slamming his hips into your spot over and over again. Screams of pleasure and sighs of satisfaction fill the air. Wet sounds of skin on skin ring throughout the large bathroom as Cedric sinks deep into you with each needy thrust.

Parting your lips, another choked moan is pulled from your lips and your vision goes blank once again as your coil snaps and your grip tightens on Cedric. Your champion doesn’t stop, his thrusts are still merciless and needy, but as your slit clenches his cock in a tight hold, his thrust becomes lazier and he can feel his release coming soon.

“You make me feel so good Ced, I’ve had my hand in between my legs thinking about this for so long, o-oh fuck.” You moan in a teasing voice against the brunettes ear. You can feel Cedric’s upper body go rigid as he uses the last of his strength to snap his hips into yours like his life depended on it. Your dirty talk making him imagine your naked body lying on your bed, moaning out his name, probably only a hallway away from him. Years of lust and love fuel his next thrusts. Every time he’d painfully gotten hard because of you, every time he imagined you underneath him and making you scream his name in ecstasy was all coming true and groaning your name into the crook of your neck he snaps his hips in a desperate thrust one more time before releasing all over your tight walls, his body pulsing in euphoria sending shockwaves of pleasure through his entire being.

Your eyes roll back and your legs jolt at his powerful stream, thanking Merlin you had taken the potion to help with cramps not too long ago. You begin to roll your hips lazily to help Cedric ride out his orgasm, your core practically numb with pleasure and your entire body exhausted. Cedric is panting heavily, his hand buried in your hair and his other still supports your body. He gives your bum a small squeeze, your body still against the wall and his still pressed to yours in support, letting the warm water from the tap relax your tired muscles and wash the proof of your pleasures off of your legs, while still intimately connected.

Cedric smiles as he looks deep into your eyes, still panting heavily, but now with nervousness and a slight anxiety. He couldn’t keep his true feelings from you any longer.

“You know I love you right?” The hufflepuff head boy confesses, running a hand down the side of your face.

“I’d hope so, considering you just fucked me senseless.” You giggle and wrap your arms around Cedric’s toned shoulders.

Your giggle dies down to a grin and a pink blush makes it’s way onto your face as you look down to see the two of you still connected

“I love you too.” You smile earnestly, a smile playing on your lips and you press a kiss to Cedric’s pink cheek. “I’ve loved you since those days in fifth year when I trained with you, you don’t know how relieved I was you survived, and with Umbridge around I thought I might never get the chance to confess.” Your emotions come through and Cedric has to blink the pure happiness from his eyes to respond.

“I’ve loved you since the moment you came rushing into my arms after the maze, I had a crush on you before, but i’ll never forget when you said those words, I knew I’d never let you go.” Cedric’s smile falters a bit as your stare drops to his lips.

“C-can I kiss you?” His face grows closer to yours.

“Didn’t ask for permission while you were cumming in me.” You tease, peppering kisses all around Cedric’s handsome features as his face grows hot in embarrassment.

“I-Is that a yes?” He murmurs hopefully, your soft lips trailing down his jawline.

You smile and press a kiss to the corner of Cedric’s mouth.

“As long as I can be your girl.” You giggle.

Cedric immediately pushes his lips to yours in a more delicate, but wanting kiss. Taking his time now to show you his adoration and care for you. The sounds of your lips molding together sounding through the large shower. Cedric runs his tongue through your mouth again, slowly this time, sighing at the taste of your after-game drink and the light taste of strawberry chap stick that remained on the inside your lips, begging to be found and appreciated.

As Cedric continues to ravage your mouth you run your hands up and down his chest and abs, taking deep breaths of his autumn like scent. Campfire, vanilla and honey were the most prominent, while his aftershave also offered a sharp, wood like smell.

“I love you y/n, so much. It would be an honor to have you as my girl.” Cedric sighs against your lips, placing one final peck before pulling away and grinning like a little kid. A smile begins to form on your face.

“Hey, did you think you could, you know.” You awkwardly motion down towards where you were still intertwined. “My legs are kid of sore.” Cedric’s eyes widen in realization and he nods frantically, apologies spilling from his lips as he slowly pulls out of you with a small ‘pop.’ Cedric lowers your feet to the ground and begins to back up, but the sudden weight removed from your body made your legs forget how to move and you crash into Cedric’s chest again.

Your legs felt numb and you couldn’t get them to move properly without falling. Cedric does his best to hide his pride as your lips pull into a frown, but a small smirk emerges as he bites his lip to stop it. He glances down and also notices the small purple love bites littering your neck and he almost beams.

“I hope you’re happy with yourself Ced, I can’t walk.” You roll your eyes at his useless attempt to stop his smile.

“I am, and I must say you look absolutely ravishing sporting my love bites darling.” He grins darkly, but a light chuckle breaks free.

“Alright let’s get you dressed, come on.” Cedric turns the tap off before leaning over again and catching your legs in his arms, carrying you bridal style out of shower, grabbing your towel and gym bag on the way out.

Placing you down on a bench, he grabs his own fluffy, white towel from his bag. Using it to pat your hair and body dry, making sure to get every inch of your body, and being careful around your intimate parts as you winced often. Grabbing another school-provided towel, he pats his upper-body dry before tying the cloth around his waist. Shaking out his damp hair, he grabs your bag and places it next to you.

“Do you think you can do it yourself darling?” His voice is filled with concern, but you nod and zip open your bag. Cedric turns to his own clothes and after tugging on a pair of boxers and sweatpants, wipes his hair dry before throwing on a t-shirt.

He turns to see you in a black sports bra, tugging on a pair of black tights, but unable to get them up your bum. Cedric smirks, walking over to you and pulling you up, holding you against him as a support while you finally get the leggings on. He sits you back down before pulling a jumper out of his bag and slipping it over your head.

The sweater seems to swallow you whole and it takes a moment to find the holes for your arms. You thank Cedric and sigh at being engulfed in Cedric’s sweet scent, pulling the jumper over your nose and smiling in content.

“You look better in my clothes than I do.” Cedric smirks happily, pulling you up again and interlocking your hands.

“Well in that case I guess I’ll keep it.” You grin, slipping on your sneakers and following Cedric out the prefect bathroom to the best of your abilities, having to stop often due to the aftershock of Cedric’s desperate pounding. Finally resorting to Cedric carrying you once again. Thankfully Dolores and her goons seemed to be missing from the scene.

Finally making it back to the hufflepuff common room, Cedric sneaks you into his dorm and closes the canopy around his four poster bed. Breathing out in content, The head boy cuddles you into his chest and wraps his arms around your torso.

“Can’t believe you’re actually here on my bed with me, I’ve only dreamt of this.” Cedric murmurs giddily, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your nose.

You snake your arms around Cedric’s broad chest and cuddle closer to him.

“I’m never letting you go, you know that.” Your champion teases, kissing your hairline.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You reassure, closing your eyes tiredly and slowly drifting off, exhaustion from the day's activities getting to you.

Cedric peers down at you a happy smile resting on his lips as he too yawns and relaxes into his pillow. This day couldn’t have gone any better. He won the game, fucked you in the shower and now he’s cuddling you in his bed. His blush reappears onto his cheeks as your breathy moans engrave themselves into his brain, but pride takes over as he reminds himself it was him who made you moan like that. Peppering kisses on your forehead he finally closes his eyes and replays your evening with a small smirk.

This is my first time writing smut so tips would be appreciated!

#harry potter imagine #cedricsbrowncurls #cedric diggory fluff #cedric diggory smut #harry potter fandom #cedric smut #cedric diggory imagine #cedric diggory x reader #smut #fluff #shower smut #holy fuck #cedric diggory #cedric x y/n #cedric x you #hope you like it #nsfw.anya

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the-obelisk · 3 years

Text

Source - Fae Collection

Loki x Reader

Summary: The one where he helps you to channel your powers with patience, while pissing off Tony Stark in the process

You felt utterly useless.

Here you were, standing in front of Earth’s mightiest heroes unable to conjure up your magic like many of your cousins had with ease as children.

Magic, for you, never came easy.

When you had left your realm that floated right above earth’s visible plane, you fell in love with the mundane and the ordinary. You found beauty in the ease of things and small bursts of excitement because humans only remained on their plane for a short lived while, while you would age among various generations of humankind slowly.

When Thor had found you seated in a SHIELD interrogation room, eyes closed simply breathing deeply, he looked to Coulson-- a high ranking agent at the time. “How long has she been indoors?”

The man shrugged his shoulders, “About a month or so. She refused at first and then they stopped asking.”

“She is of Fae. Her people are connected to nature. She has lost her energy.”

Thor was cleared to bring you to the Avengers compound where you met the rest of the team. They welcomed you but you had seemed to lose the small amount of practice you had accumulated before your time of confinement.

Your powers were bounded at birth in protection from the dark elves that reigned terror on Alfheim now, it was why you were sent to the invisible plane above Midgard. Outcasts, refugees, and runaways— your history was erased. With that, hope was lost and the understanding of why your power were bounded remained unknown.

“Wanda, I don’t think I can do it.”

The redheaded was enlisted by Tony to help mentor you. It had seemed Wanda and you shared one common trait, the ability to tap into others minds. It was something that came of ease for you, however, they already had a mind reader, a witch with the ability of telepathy, they wouldn’t need you.

“Yes, you can. Feel your energy. Where is the source?” Her voice was calm but you were growing increasingly frustrated.

Tony, Steve, Natasha, Thor and Loki stood watching as Sam and Bucky waited for Rhodey to return with their snacks. Clearly it had been forever, and they were growing impatient. Thor every so often would give you an encouraging nod. He believed in you.

In a way they all did, but in that moment you didn’t feel it. Or specifically, hear that.

“How long is she going to take? I should start my training.”

“I have dinner with Pepper at 5. She’s gonna kick my ass if I hold her up.”

You closed your eyes again but knew you had no idea what source she was even talking about. All you felt was annoyed, tired of standing, and hungry.

Sensing this, Loki rolled his eyes and glided over to you, passing Wanda who stood off to the side of you. Tony and Steve immediately tensed up at the quick movement, while Rhodey entered at the moment already suspicious of why Steve’s fist was clenched. Thor looked over and spoke in a low voice, “Trust him. I think he may have an idea.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and offered him a pointed look, “Let’s hope it isn’t anything harmful.”

Loki smiled softly at you, “You feel no source, do you?”

You bit your lip and looked down, “No.” You looked at Wanda and shrugged, “I’m sorry. Maybe I just don’t have anything else to offer other than telepathy.”

The raven-haired man bowed his head catching your eyes, “But you do. I can feel it.” You looked up at him with questioning eyes only to see he had turned around and stared at Tony and Steve, “If you had let me help her originally, you would know that unlike the witch, her power isn’t sourced in her, it is in nature.”

“Well, how do you expect us to trust you, Reindeer Games? You are here because Thor gave us his word that you meant no harm.”

Loki rolled his eyes. He never cared what Tony Stark’s perceptions were of him. He turned back to look at you and caught your eye, “Do you trust me?”

You looked into his eyes and nodded. Of course you did.

While you both never spent time together in front of the other members on account that Loki always hid in the library. So when you weren’t buzzing around the building, and walked in to see him sitting in his usual chair— you would smile and begin talking.

Many times for extended hours, and with the exception of a few nights, your conversation often remained light.

But there were nights when vulnerability would seep in. And so, a blossoming interest in one another and a friendship developed in the quietness of late night conversations in your library.

“Very well.” He smirked and looked back at the group, “Being surrounded by this Midgardian garbage of concrete and rubber mats will do nothing for her. We shall take this outside.”

Tony glared daggers into Loki’s head as the group followed Loki and you to the courtyard. “Midgardian trash? This cost me a fortune. What the hell is he talking ab--”

You pushed his thoughts out as he projected them loudly. You giggled softly, Loki had looked down at you while holding the door. “You heard it too. Glad you find his anger equally as comical as I do.”

“I don’t think he will let that one go.”

“Good, I hope not.”

Loki smirked at you as you walked on the grass. He stopped soon after, and you followed. The rest of the group stopped at a distance. Wanda joined the spot next to Natasha and Thor, they all watched intently.

You looked at all of them until you heard Loki call your name softly. “Y/N, focus on me.” You met his eyes and inhaled deeply before nodding. “Sorry, I can’t focus with all of their eyes on me.”

He blew out a short breath in acknowledgement. “The redhead witch keeps trying to enter my barriers. Quiet annoying, I will say.” You smiled as you peeped a quick look at Wanda who seemed extremely focused on the man standing in front of you.

You heard him speak again, “May I?” Hands held out, he waited for your answer. You looked down and slid your gloves off. Your eyes drew back up to his and you slid your hands into his, feeling his cool hand wrap around your warm ones.

Normally, you hated touching but once you held his hands it felt as though the world slipped away. All you felt was energy, all that surrounded you. You basked in its soft hum.

He continued, “Now, I want you close your eyes and take a deep breath in with me, little one, and clear your mind.”

You closed you eyes in response, and smiled sweetly at the pet name subconsciously. To which Loki caught and smiled in return, knowing you couldn’t see.

“You are one with the world around you. Feel the warmth of the sun on this brisk day. You are at peace— the very center of the world around you. Everything here has energy. Nature holds memory of the past and present. You are here, darling. You are safe.” His voice was soft and smooth.

It would be a lie if you didn’t feel yourself melting into his words. They were slick and entrancing. “What do you hear, Y/N?” He asked in his soft lulls.

“The trees. The wind is blowing...” You spoke to him in a quiet voice.

Loki nodded, “Tell me, dove. How does the wind on your skin make you feel?”

“It’s soft and slightly warm after the initial cold.” You stated once again causing him to observe you curiously. He turned your hands to face each other slowly in hopes he wouldn’t sever the connection you found.

His hand cupped against the back of yours as if you were holding an invisible ball. “Gods, she is intoxicating.” Immediately you were pulled out of his thoughts at the sound of his voice, “You aren’t supposed to be intruding in my mind, little one.”

You smiled tightly embarrassed of getting caught, you heard him chuckle. “Do you feel all the tethers connecting through you? They flow in and out of you. Concentrate them between our hands.

“I don’t know how.”

“Just feel and trust. Visualize it.”

Slowly you felt warmth gathering closer and closer to your hands. It was forming and growing, you projected a thought to him fearing you would break concentration if you spoke. “It feels like the sun.”

He smiled, “Open your eyes slowly and take a look.”

You opened your eyes to his eyes staring at you. He smiled at you endearingly.

Holding his gaze for a bit, you then followed his eyes down to the ball of light in between both of your hands. Inside it was white with several revolving colors that interchanged. Hues of purples, red, green, and blue shone with gold shimmering around the outside.

“We did that?” She looked at him with surprise.

“You did.” He spoke softly. “You are harnessing the world around you. Its energy.”

A smile grew on your lips out of excitement. He moved around you stopping behind you shoulder. You felt his hands slide down your arm, resting them on your elbow and back. “Now throw it.”

You gave a little push it forward and was greeted with a cloud of smoke and Tony yelling. “Not the tree! Come on.” He threw up his hands as Sam, Bucky, and Rhodey laughed throwing popcorn at one another.

“That was awesome.” You looked at Loki in pure amusement. You couldn’t explain the feeling that coursed through your body.

He smiled at you and nodded, “I told you that you held power. Come, I have a few books to show you.”

You nodded eagerly and followed him as Tony yelled at Thor. The blonde smirked at his brother knowing he found joy in pissing Tony off even more. However, he was even more amused at the the scene they had all watched. He noted Loki’s softness, one that the team didn’t get to see. It was shocking to them, but to Thor, it was an emotion he know Loki rarely let others know of.

It was the quality of a small effort towards redemption.

“Thank you, Loki. Really.” You said walking alongside him.

The raven-haired man smiled, “No need to thank me, little one. Now, let us go before he combusts out of anger.”

“You got it, Trickster.” You said acknowledging that he full well enjoyed getting to Tony once more.

#loki x you #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #mcu loki #marvel fanfiction #marvel #marvel imagine #loki imagine #loki series #loki fluff #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction

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even-after-a-millennia · 3 years

Text

look out with me at this beauty

For @nilefreemanweek2021 and the prompt Childhood. While protesting a pipeline, Nile sees something in the distance that reminds her of a family vacation she took as a child. You can read it below or over on my ao3 account here. Gen | Rated G | 1.7k

“You would think,” Nile said in disgust, “that after how many times these things have broken, we wouldn’t have to be right here, protesting them making yet another pipeline.”

“Profits before the people,” Andy said drily from where she was standing next to Nile.

“Ughhhhhhhh,” Nile groaned.

Nicky and Joe returned from giving out water and food to the other protestors and handed over the remaining bottles and granola bars. Nile ripped one open and tore a bite off viciously.

She looked out, past the line of police officers that were attempting to intimidate her and the other protestors standing in the path of the pipeline. In the distance, she could see a piece of higher land going up into the sky. She squinted, but it didn’t become any clearer.

“Hey, guys, what’s that?” she asked, pointing at it.

Andy looked over. “Oh. I remember that place. We were here in the… uh, late 1800s? Trying to push back the expansion of settlers onto the native people’s land. The tribes in the area had many names for it, but the one I remember is Bear Mountain.”

“Bear Mountain…” Nile muttered, pulling out her phone. She typed “Bear Mountain South Dakota” into the search bar and started reading the results. “Oh,” she said quietly.

“What is it, Nile?” Nicky asked.

“It’s also called Bear Butte.”

She swallowed, then said, “My family and I went there when I was a kid.”

“Would you like to tell us about it?” Nicky asked. He kept one eye on the police, but turned most of his attention to Nile.

The others did the same, settling in for the long haul.

_____________________________________

The field of sunflowers whipped past Nile’s window and to her ten-year-old brain, they seemed to go on forever. Jordan was kicking the back of her mom’s seat and she turned to look at him and said, “Child, if you don’t want to walk there, you will stop that right now.”

He stopped, pouting.

“I’m bored,” he said.

“Look outside, Jordan! You can see forever!” Nile said, trying to distract him.

It worked for a few minutes, but then he was kicking again. Nile’s mom looked at the ceiling of the van, and Nile knew that her patience was being tested.

“Hey Jordan, I spy with my little eye, something that starts with the letter S,” Nile said.

Nile’s mom sent her a smile, which Nile returned.

He looked around, taking in the options. “Sky?” he asked.

“Nope!”

“Street?”

“This is a highway, dummy.”

He frowned and opened his mouth to retaliate, but she just said, “C’mon, you can get it! It starts with S!”

Jordan looked out the window and brightened. “SUNFLOWERS!” he shouted at the top of his lungs.

Nile nodded as her parents took deep breaths, then let them out.

“Your turn!” she said.

Their game lasted another hour, then they stopped at a rest area to go to the bathroom. Jordan climbed on the playground while Nile swung on a swing in the kid’s area, as their parents watched from one of the nearby park benches.

They had been driving since early that morning, but her parents had warned that they wouldn’t arrive at the hotel until late.

“So no swimming?” Nile had asked, trying not to pout.

Her dad had laughed. “Maybe not the first night, but I promise we will swim before we come home.”

She nodded, satisfied.

They were going to Bear Butte in South Dakota. Jordan had giggled when he had seen how close butte was to butt. That had started a conversation about how this was a sacred place for the Native Americans in the area, and while the Freeman’s were there, they were to treat the place with respect.

“Dad, if it’s for Native Americans, why are we going there?” Nile had asked, brow furrowed.

“A few guys in my division went there when they were in Sturgis for a big motorcycle rally. Said that it was a beautiful area and that you could feel the history and spirit of the place in the air. I want to see it for myself,” he explained.

Nile didn’t really get it, but she nodded anyway.

Luckily, Jordan had tired himself out on the playground, so he crashed for a while after they got back in the van. Nile pulled out Maniac Magee, the book one of her teachers had recommended at the end of the school year, and began to lose herself in between its pages.

They stopped for food somewhere in South Dakota, but still had a few hours to go. It was getting dark, the sun setting over the fields as they flashed by, and Nile was entranced by the colors streaking across the sky. She pulled out her folder of paper and tried to recreate it with her colored pencils, but the road was bumpy and the colors didn’t do it justice.

Her dad insisted on putting it on the dash anyway.

“Anyone looking at this vehicle will know that there is an artist on board,” he said, smiling at her.

Even Nile was dozing by the time that they pulled into the hotel parking lot. She dragged Jordan behind her, holding onto his hand, until they could get up in the room.

“Whoa…” she said, looking around.

There were two queen sized beds, a giant tv, a microwave, and a fridge in the room. She went to get on the bed, but her mom said, “Wait a minute.”

She took the covers off and put them to the side.

“Alright, now you can get on. But no jumping. There are people below us,” she said.

Nile frowned. Well, that stopped what she was going to do.

Jordan and Nile got one bed and her mom and dad took the other. They had waffles for breakfast and Jordan thought the machine that made them was the coolest thing. Her dad had actually made the waffles, but he had let Jordan flip the griddle, which he did with glee.

They drove a little bit out of town and parked. Nile’s dad shouldered the backpack that Nile’s mom had packed full of water, sunscreen, and snacks.

“Remember, you two, do not touch the pieces of cloth on the trees. They are prayer cloths and they are not to be disturbed. Do not go off the path. And try to be respectful and quiet. Okay?” their dad said.

They nodded, and set off.

It was a gentle slope upwards at first, and then they were pushing themselves up the hills. There were a lot of trees right by the trail, and Nile watched as the pieces of fabric tied to the trees swayed in the breeze. They were pretty.

Then they reached a flatter area with a wooden railing and looked out to see down the hill and out into the fields beyond.

“Cool…” Nile breathed, taking it all in.

They kept going, and Nile eventually stopped looking ahead and just kept looking around, taking in all the trees and grass and fields around her. They crested a hill and Nile looked down the hill and suddenly stopped.

“Dad, why do the trees look like that?” she asked.

There were many trees that were on their sides, barkless and white against the grass.

“There was a fire here in the late 90’s that burnt up a lot of the trees. The grass has grown back, but the trees couldn’t be saved,” he explained.

“Oh,” she said, feeling a sadness she couldn’t really explain. This was all so beautiful. It hurt to see the remnants of destruction here.

“Hey,” he said gently, kneeling beside her. “Look at it this way. All of this,” he said, gesturing to all the nature around them, “went through something terrible, and it managed to come back from that. I think that’s inspiring more than anything. What do you think?”

Nile thought about it, then nodded.

“Good,” he said. “C’mon, Nile. I hear the view from the top is incredible.”

It took a long time for them to get there. They had to stop for water breaks a bunch and a snack break too. But then they finally took the steps to the wooden platform at the top of the Butte and Nile and Jordan ran to the railing to look out over everything.

“Whoa…”

Nile had thought that she could see for miles before. But it was nothing compared to how far she could see now! She and Jordan ran from one side of the platform to the next, looking out at the different angles and what they could see from each.

Eventually, the novelty wore off, and they settled on one of the benches for a few more snacks and some water.

Nile’s dad was still standing at the railing, and Nile joined him after she finished eating.

They didn’t say anything for a while, just looked out together as the wind rushed over them. She leaned into his side and his arm came around her, holding her there. Any chill she would have felt from the breeze was lost in the warmth from her dad’s body.

“This is the kind of thing that I fight to protect,” he said softly.

If Nile wasn’t so close to him, she might not have heard him.

“It’s really pretty,” she agreed.

He blinked, and looked down at her. “I fight to protect you too, my little river,” he said, pulling one of her braids lightly.

They grinned at one another, the moment broken, then left the railing and its beautiful view behind them.

__________________________________

They had done more on the trip, had even gone swimming in the pool at the hotel. But that first day was the thing that stuck most in Nile’s brain, years later.

“Turns out, that was the last time my dad was home before he was killed in action,” Nile finished. “So I’m glad we got to have that time.”

“I am glad we are here,” Nicky said thoughtfully. “Protecting this view the two of you looked out on.”

Nile’s heart clenched, but she nodded.

“He died fighting for places like this,” she said. She turned to the police officers who were closing in. “Let’s make sure none of these people do the same.”

#nile freeman #nileweek2021 #andromache the scythian #andy #yusuf al kaysani #aka joe #nicolò di genova #aka nicky #childhood #family vacation #fanfic #my fic

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holycatsandrabbits · 3 years

Text

Tollense, an original serial romance by Dannye Chase, Chapter 5

A history professor falls in love with his best friend, a 3000-year-old vampire.

READ FROM THE BEGINNING

Chapter 5

CW: blood

This chapter has 2 versions: a T-rated one here on Tumblr and an E-rated one on Ao3. The plot is the same, but there’s smut on the Ao3 version.

1999 (Two years later)

The second inhuman creature Liam met was named Bennett, and Liam liked him about as much as he liked sand in his socks. Bennett was tall and thin, with a pretty face and a predatory look in his eyes that completely spoiled it.

Liam was walking across campus on an unseasonably cold night (for Florida) and now that he’d come upon a vampire, he was glad for the light scarf he’d wound around his neck. Bennett fell into step with Liam as if they were old friends. “Looking for Kurt,” he said. “Heard around town that you know him.”

“Sorry, I can’t help you.”

Bennett peered at him more intensely, and when Liam recoiled a little, Bennett grinned. “Guess you’ve spent enough time with him to know what I am. So, uh— how good of friends are you? Cause I should tell you I really picked you out by the fact that I can smell him on you.”

Liam decided he was not going to think too hard about that one. “Was there something you needed?”

“Just want to catch up with him. Been a while.”

“Well, I’m sure he knows you’re here.”

Bennett looked confused. “How would he know that?”

“I have no idea how he does it. In any case, if he wants to see you—”

Kurt’s voice cut in, startling Bennett. “I don’t, particularly. But neither do I wish Liam to have to deal with this.”

Kurt was ahead of them on the sidewalk, a shadowed shape sitting on a half-wall by the library. Liam recognized him easily by the fact that it was difficult to decide exactly how large of a person was sitting there in the dark, as the outline of him seemed to shift restlessly. Kurt’s voice fell low, and almost seemed to ripple the air around them. “Get away from him.”

Bennett took several steps back, and Liam wasn’t sure whether Kurt had used his mental powers to compel him into moving, or if he’d just scared the man badly enough. Kurt stood up off of the wall and stepped in between Liam and Bennett. “What do you want?” he asked.

Bennett was cringing. “Look, man— if you can just give me a drop. I’m in trouble, pissed off some guys. I’ll pay you. Anything. I can get you whatever you—” Bennett’s voice trailed off and his eyes grew wide, terror growing on his face. Abruptly he turned and ran, disappearing into the dark.

When Kurt turned back to Liam, he looked completely normal. For Kurt, anyway. So only a tiny bit terrifying, if you looked closely enough around the eyes.

“A drop of what?” Liam asked. He started heading for home again, and Kurt joined him, watching Liam intently, assessing him. Liam didn’t comment on it. He’d learned that protests of his well-being were useless when Kurt was worried about him, that Kurt would perform his own examination and be satisfied only with that.

“My blood,” Kurt said finally, when his analysis had apparently ended. “A drop of it can heal humans’ wounds, and although I’ve never tried it on a vampire, I imagine it would make them stronger. They sometimes come asking for it. I’ve just never found one who wanted it for a good reason.”

Liam was not in the habit of asking Kurt a lot of questions, largely because it was more comfortable sometimes not to know an answer, and Kurt seemed to make a practice of telling Liam the truth. Liam decided to ask anyway. “So, how did you know I’d met your, ah, friend there?”

“I know what happens to you,” Kurt said.

Liam watched him for a second, doing his own assessment. “You know I’m going to accuse you of mind reading.”

Kurt turned and met his eyes, an odd expression on his face that looked a little like bewilderment and a little like a reluctant confession. “I don’t need to. I just know. Listen, Liam, are you busy tonight?”

“You don’t have plans with Jonah?”

“No, he’s out with friends.”

“Ah. Did you get a chance to—”

“I’ll eat when he gets home, if he’s up for it.” Kurt was looking at him curiously, probably because Liam didn’t usually call attention to the fact that Kurt’s lovers provided him with blood. “Do you want to head to Tollense?” Kurt asked. “It’s midnight in Germany. Site should be deserted.”

“Are you remembering something about your origins?” Liam asked.

“I’m not sure.”

Liam nodded and Kurt slipped a hand under his elbow. Their next step brought them down into a darkened river valley. The grass would be green in the sunlight, but under the stars it ran gray and then faded to black in the distance. The Tollense River was more of a sound than a sight right now, the pleasant noises of gently moving water emerging from a dark void.

It was actually warmer in Germany that night than Florida, and Liam unwound his scarf. He sat on the grass and looked up at the clear night sky.

“I think there was a bridge,” Kurt said.

“Makes sense,” Liam told him. “A bridge is a natural place for a battle. People would want to be in control of movement through a strategic point.” Liam tried to imagine the valley as it had looked three thousand years earlier, during a large-scale Bronze Age battle that historians had once thought impossible in this sparsely populated area. Kurt had been here then, young and vulnerable and a great many other things that he would never again be.

“I’m pretty sure I was on a boat under the bridge,” Kurt said. “I remember people falling, and some of them landed in it.” Kurt dropped onto the grass beside Liam. “And I was still looking for that same person that I can’t remember.”

“That’s not bad for three thousand years ago,” Liam said.

“I don’t remember dying,” Kurt said. “You’d think that would be a memorable event.”

“Are you sure you did?” Liam asked.

Kurt looked pensive, and Liam wanted to tell him that he could let go of all of it, the human mask that he tried so hard to keep on, that it wouldn’t frighten Liam to see him as he really was. But Liam wasn’t entirely sure that was true, and he was certain that it would break Kurt’s heart to think Liam was afraid of him.

“You still think I’m not a vampire,” Kurt said.

“Maybe. I mean, yes, you drink blood, but your powers are different, your blood is different, and if you never died—”

“I have the scars from the arrows in my chest. At some point, I must have been vulnerable to weapons.”

“Well, you were human. And now you’ve— changed.”

“There’s something else,” Kurt said. “It’s happened on our last three trips here.” He pointed, and Liam looked, but all he could see was the occasional glint of starlight reflected in the river. “There’s a dog,” Kurt said.

That was not what Liam had been expecting. “A dog.”

“Yeah. A large white dog. I thought he was real until I realized you don’t see him. And also, he’s got six eyes. I couldn’t see him well enough at first to notice that, but he comes closer now.”

Liam fought a little shiver. Surely with Kurt by his side he was in no danger from a spectral dog. And anyway, if Kurt thought there was danger, he’d have Liam nowhere near it.

“Six eyes,” Liam mused. “You know, in Proto-Indo-European mythology, there was sometimes said to be a three-headed dog guarding the underworld.”

“He’s just got the one head.”

“Yes, but he’s got enough eyes for three.”

“I suppose so.” Kurt sounded amused. “But why would a dog from the Underworld be appearing to me?”

“I’ll do some research.” Liam lay back on the grass, alone in a field at night with the first inhuman creature he’d met, and this one was not pathetic and frightened but incredibly dangerous and also quite sweet. Liam decided he’d like to ask another question. “Does it hurt? When you drink blood from someone?”

“No. Well, yes, but I convince them it doesn’t.” Kurt lay down too, but on his side, looking at Liam. “Actually— I usually make it feel nice.”

“Nice.”

“Very nice.”

Liam turned to look at him. Kurt’s eyes were glowing faintly in the dark. “Oh. You mean— nice.”

“Listen, Liam— you and I—” Kurt frowned, almost seeming nervous, which was not a common look for him. “When I drink blood from someone, we form a connection. Something that ties them to me, lets me know if they’re all right or in trouble. I’ve wanted that with you, for a long time. Because we’re— we’re close. But the thing is, it’s been happening anyway.”

Kurt was losing his human disguise a bit. His shape in the darkness was shifting about again. “I know where you are, and what’s happening to you. I know if you’re sick, if you’re hungry. I know when you get those damned threatening letters because they scare you.”

“Why?” Liam whispered.

“I don’t know.” Kurt looked honestly confused. “But you and I already share a greater intimacy than I’ve shared with anyone in a very long time. If I drank from you— we’d be even closer. Is that something that you would want?”

“Yes.”

Kurt was assessing him again. “You’re scared.”

“Not of you.”

“If we do this— whatever you’re scared of might not remain your secret.”

Liam felt a little wetness in his eyes. “I don’t think it’s a secret now.”

Kurt lay there looking at him for another moment, and then he sat up. Liam started to sit up as well, but Kurt put a gentle hand on his shoulder and Liam lay back down. Kurt’s hand trailed down his arm to grasp his wrist, holding him loosely, as if Kurt wanted him to have a last chance to pull away.

Liam did not pull away, and Kurt raised Liam’s wrist to his mouth. The bite was painless. To Liam it felt like a kiss, the soft, warm press of Kurt’s lips against his skin, and there was only a sort of odd lightheadedness that made him realize he was losing blood.

After a moment, Kurt raised his head, and there was a touch of color to his lips, a sort of stain in the darkness. “Do you want the full show?” he asked.

“Seems a shame to miss out,” Liam answered.

*********

Read the E-rated ending on Ao3 or continue for the T-rated ending. The plot is the same, but there’s smut on the Ao3 version.

**********

Kurt lowered his head again, but this time instead of biting, he licked at what blood had welled up on Liam’s wrist. Liam found himself floating in a daze, where every movement of Kurt’s lips or tongue brought him further into bliss. He felt the bite this time, and it was the perfect sting of pain to make the pleasure seem even sweeter. Liam moaned, and he heard Kurt make some sort of light growling noise in return.

The night and the stars seemed to fade away and there was only Kurt. Liam felt dizzy and entranced, his body and mind not his own, as Kurt drank his blood and gave him this pleasure as reward.

While Kurt sat unaffected above him.

It ended before Liam could really understand what a bleak thought that was, that he was alone in this ecstasy, not wrapped in his lover’s arms. He felt Kurt’s mouth move away from his wrist. The bliss gently ebbed away, letting Liam settle back into himself as he lay there on the grass. And yet Kurt was not gone. Liam could feel him inside, close and warm. Not in a sexual way, not anymore. But there was the realization that Kurt had felt Liam’s moment of reluctance and responded to it, maybe not understanding why it was there, but accepting it nonetheless.

Kurt lay down again, so that he could look into Liam’s eyes. He still had hold of Liam’s hand, and he’d laced their fingers together.

“Wow,” Liam said.

Kurt smiled, looking both pleased and sad. Or maybe Liam could tell that Kurt was feeling both pleased and sad. Liam, for his part, felt dizzy and a little cold, and Kurt pulled him close, resting Liam’s head against his shoulder. Liam fell asleep that way, on a battlefield three thousand years old, in the arms of a man who might have died there or perhaps could never die at all.

*******************

READ FROM THE BEGINNING

Updates Fridays on Ao3 and DannyeChase.com (rated E), and Tumblr (rated T)

Want to create fic, art, or other works based on this series? Please do! Just dm or tag me.

My previous serials are for Good Omens: Mr. Fell's Bookshop and Love's Endless Light

My Carrd

#Dannye writes #original fiction #serial fiction #tollense #vampires #romance

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anarchy-and-piglins · 3 years

Text

Somehow Technoblade had managed the spectacular achievement of becoming the odd one out in an entire community made up of rare and strange beings.

The fact that all the other residents were non-humans happened to be what made him different though. Wilbur had told him the history of the commune, how their town was founded with the direct purpose of being a safe place for mobs and hybrids to live in peace, secluded from the humans who hunted them, enslaved them, or would otherwise harm them. Their location was kept secret, hidden from most by enchantments, and they were almost completely self-sufficient in the way they were run in terms of food and stuff.

Only occasionally would somebody wander out to another village, to trade or just to seek a little adventure for themselves. Phil especially was prone to do this – a traveler at heart, his Elytrian nature – and he was the one who had found Technoblade in a rather... compromising position.

If by compromising you could mean having an arrow sticking out your back.

People didn't like Technoblade. And Technoblade generally didn't like people, but he liked it even less when they chased him out of their villages with their bows drawn. Phil had been kind enough to remove the projectile. Technoblade had bravely said it didn't hurt but then secretly dug his blunt nails into the palms of his hands hard enough to leave white indents. Then Phil had insisted on taking him home to get a proper look at the wound and clean it up.

Not all of the other residents were thrilled with Technoblade's presence at first, scared it could compromise their location. A lot of their tunes had changed when they found out other humans were the cause of his injury, even more so when Techno revealed this was hardly an isolated incident. People didn't like Technoblade at all.

(Most humans had little tolerance for that which they did not understand. And according to them, Technoblade was weird and very hard to understand. Techno understood himself perfectly fine, he always thought they were the weird ones.)

So he stayed and overall things worked out great. There were only minor issues caused by the 'only human around' thing. Their pub was a good example. A few of the others in the commune could simply fly or teleport, and those that couldn't had no problems either since they could rely on inhuman stamina to make the climb tolerable. Techno had a hundred rungs of a ladder he needed to brave with his pitiful human physique if he wanted to get up there. Same thing for Phil's ridiculously high-up birdhouse.

And then one day he got sick.

It was probably his own fault. Last night when it was storming he'd been coming home from mining and gotten completely soaked out in the rain. A small voice in the back of his mind told him he should probably take his drenched clothes off and get warm and comfortable as soon as he got home – the voice sounded suspiciously like Phil when he lectured Techno about fixing his terrible sleeping schedule and eating more regularly. But he had gotten distracted by putting away the materials he'd mined into his chests and starting to smelt the ore and by the time he noticed he was shivering at how cold it was, his clothes were damp more than wet. He lighted the fire and felt too exhausted to bother getting changed, crawling under the covers as he was - though it didn't completely ward away further trembling.

When he woke up his head hurt and there was this annoying tickle in his chest, feather-light touches against his lungs. The clothes had become sticky and uncomfortable, peeling off his skin. Techno coughed into a fist and set out as normal, intent on resuming his tasks where he left off yesterday.

It would probably go away on its own.

Except the coughing didn't stop. Small bursts of it kept coming up when he needed them least. He was in the middle of one when a voice rang out behind him.

"Techno, are you okay dude?" He must have jumped a solid three feet into the air and for a moment Wilbur only chuckled at his reaction.

"I told you to stop doing that," Techno grumbled, a little too sharply. Just because Wilbur could literally appear out of nowhere didn't mean he had to use that ability to sneak up on him for no reason. Techno coughed again, hiding it in his elbow.

"You did," Wilbur acknowledged with a smirk, but didn't apologize. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look I'm doing, I'm headed to the mines." Techno swung his pickaxe up on his shoulder, kind of almost nearly dropping it in the process with how clumsy his hands were being. Stupid.

"It looks like you were hacking up a lung, really." Wilbur's features softened. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine," Techno responded. He started walking again, knowing Wilbur would have a hard time following him while in corporeal form. Especially in the daytime.

"Are you coming to the pub later? I've got some new plans to unveil, think they'll be sick." Wilbur did make a valiant attempt at following him, though he quickly started falling behind, floating inches above the ground and unable to keep up with Techno's human strides.

"Uh, I'll think about it?" Techno answered evasively. He wasn't looking forward to braving that ladder in his current state. His arms hurt just thinking about it.

Wilbur stopped to call after him. "What do you mean you'll think about it?"

But Techno was far enough gone to be able to pretend not to hear him as he descended down his mineshaft.

Techno liked Niki's hair a lot. He'd even told her so not long after meeting her.

It was long and wavy and a nice shade of pastel pink that reminded him of the sunset. Technoblade would consider growing out his own hair that long if he didn't know it was way too unruly to keep in shape and stay untangled. And if dyeing it wasn't such a chore – one he knew he'd be too lazy to undertake as regularly as he should – he might have dyed it from its boring brown shade into something more interesting.

Niki was glad he was keeping her company while she tended to it, combing through it with what he presumed was a comb made of a seashell. Techno didn't tell her he had only really left the mines early because his lungs were starting to strain from the dust down there, the coughing fits getting closer together with less time in between to let him breathe. He sat on the sandy shore and traced patterns into the sand with one finger while they talked.

Niki was telling him about her builds, and expressing her disappointment over how she couldn't easily show them to her friends. None of them could breathe underwater or deal with the pressure common at the depths Niki lived. But she loved describing them in detail.

She was just explaining the sea glass she was intending to use when Technoblade started coughing again. His lungs expressed their displeasure through a series of sharp pangs that shot up into his neck. The sound he made was wet and disgusting, like there was something liquid rattling around inside his chest. Niki stopped talking to look at him worriedly.

"Are you alright? Techno, what happened?"

He tried to wave her away but it was kind of hard with his body still intent on making it impossible for him to get oxygen. Techno closed his eyes against the blurriness of his vision to concentrate on inhaling slower instead. "M'fine." He could feel the phlegm in his throat.

Niki was pulling herself onto the beach a little, trying to get a closer look at him. "Are you sick?"

"No." Getting up so fast was a bad idea. His head spun and he felt incredibly shaky. Techno ignored it. "No, I'm not. It's fine. I think I'll just head home now."

He started walking away quickly. The afternoon sun felt unbearable suddenly, scorching. Or maybe that was the beginning of a fever.

Niki called after him to wait but confined to the water as she was, it wasn't like she could do anything to stop him. Technoblade walked until he crested the hill, already seeing the shape of the other buildings in the distance. He made it halfway through the grass field and then he felt too drained to continue. Deciding to sit down for a bit, he lay back and closed his eyes.

"Do you think he's dead?"

"I dunno, we should poke him with a stick to find out."

Techno groaned at the sound of loud voices, ringing painfully around his aching head. He cracked his eyes open – not sure when he had even fallen asleep - and tried to blink the three faces hovering above him into focus.

"Oh, I think he's alive. Kind of." That was Ranboo.

"We could still poke him, just to make sure." Tommy.

Which meant the third person had to be Tubbo.

Techno pushed up on his elbows to get into a seated position, hating how difficult it was. His limbs were weak, as if they were made of jelly or some shit. The light fever had escalated into him feeling like his entire body was on fire.

This was not good.

"-chno? Hey, anybody home?" Tubbo was talking to him, waving one hand in front of his face. If his frown was any indication, Techno had been spacing out for a while.

"Hm?" he asked.

"I think there's something wrong with him," Tubbo said to the others.

"I'm fine." Techno tried standing up but fell back onto his ass a moment later when dizziness plowed into him with the force of a boulder. Tommy snorted.

"Yeah, we can tell." He reached out but pulled his hand back as soon as it came into contact with Techno's skin. "Fuck you're almost the same temperature as Jack Manifold. Pretty sure humans aren't supposed to run that hot."

"I'll get Phil," Ranboo offered, teleporting before Techno had a chance to object.

He covered his face with his hands and sighed. This was going to be a thing now and that happened to be the exact opposite of what Technoblade wanted it to be. He just wanted to go home and sleep this off.

"You're not..." Tubbo broke through his thoughts. The boy hesitated, wings vibrating a bit with nervous energy. "You're not like... actually dying are you?"

Techno tried to answer but was interrupted by another coughing fit first. When he was done Tubbo looked even more anxious than before. "Probably not. It's just a cold."

It was definitely not a simple cold. Pneumonia, more likely.

"Oh good."

Techno agreed. Not dying would probably be good, even if he currently felt like death warmed over.

Philza took him to the pub, much to Technoblade's horror.

All his protests and insistence he'd be fine if he was just taken to his house were brushed off easily, especially when Phil took flight with Techno barely able to keep from falling off his back when dark spots took over his vision. If it weren't for Phil's supporting hands keeping him steady he's probably have fallen off.

Normally Techno didn't dislike flying with Phil – despite the other always making some quip about how little Techno weighed for his height. But this time the vertigo was horrible and made him want to puke. Maybe it was fortunate he had skipped breakfast this morning.

They landed on the wooden porch softly, Phil keeping Techno's arm around his shoulder as he put him down to make sure he wouldn't collapse. Techno wasn't about to admit he probably needed that, though he muttered a quick thanks under his breath, which was starting to get more wheezing by the minute. There wasn't an inch of his body that didn't ache.

There were a few beds in the backrooms of the pub, sometimes used for newcomers to temporarily reside. Techno found himself dumped into one, not really caring where Phil went when he left the room. Not when the sheets were so blessedly cool and comfortable. He could have probably fallen back asleep soon if Phil hadn't returned almost instantly.

"I checked with Sneeg, he said this should help a little." Phil sat down on the bed, holding up a cup with the nastiest-looking brown tea inside it Technoblade ever did see. "I'm sorry we don't have any real potions to give you, but he's closest to you in physiology, so I'm hoping this will be enough. We don't exactly have a lot of experience with human illness."

"Did you ask him if it was poisonous?" Techno asked, eyeing the steaming liquid.

"Don't be dramatic." Phil handed him the cup. Techno sighed and downed the herbal tea in one go, suppressing his gag reflex. Medicinal and earthy, it somehow tasted worse than it looked. He didn't think that was possible.

"Great, can I go home now?"

Phil shook his head as he got up again, taking the cup from him. "You're not going anywhere until your fever breaks. You think I flew you all the way up here for fun?"

"Possibly."

Rolling his eyes as he leaves the room, Phil once again came back only a moment later. This time he was holding a bowl of what Techno could only presume was water going by the cloth that was soaking in it. Phil gestured for him to lie down properly and this time Techno obeyed without complaint.

"I think it's best if you stay here for a while," he said while folding the cloth and putting it on Techno's forehead. The coldness of it did feel nice against his pounding headache. "The pub is the best place for us to take turns keeping an eye on you."

"I don't need you guys to keep an eye on me, though. I'm not a child."

"No, you're just a stubborn asshole with pneumonia." Phil drew back a bit, smile faltering. "And also the only human currently living in the commune. We don't have the needed supplies to treat you should this get worse, so I'd rather not take the risk."

And while he did a fair job hiding it, it was undeniably clear Phil was worried.

"Fine, I'll stay." Techno made an effort of showing how annoyed he was by huffing and pulling the blankets over himself. "But can you at least get me a book or something? Won't help much keeping me here if I'll be bored to death."

Phil laughed – light and teasing. Techno liked that a lot more than he did the worry.

"I'll see what I can do."

He spent a solid week in bed.

Much to Phil's relief, Techno's sickness did not get worse. But without proper medicine, it didn't improve as quickly as they would have liked either. He had to get better the old-fashioned way: waiting for his body to fight off the infection on its own.

Most of his time was spent sleeping. Whenever he woke up somebody else was at his bedside, to make sure he could eat and drink. Phil hadn't been kidding when he said they'd take turns. It was almost comforting to know there was always someone watching over him while he slept, though Techno didn't feel the need to say that out loud.

After that first week, he was recovered enough to at least limp out of his room and around the pub. He was too weak to attempt the ladder and any sudden moves were still likely to throw him into a coughing fit that could last several minutes. But he could sit at one of the tables and talk to Niki when she visited.

Or to the others, who all seemed to be coming by a lot more often than was usual.

Wilbur unveiled his plans and talked Techno's ear off about what he was working on. Fundy came all the way to the pub to try and sell him stolen trinkets. Ranboo was always coming around with some new book for him to read, asking him if he liked his previous recommendation.

(None of them visited as often as Tommy though, who always complained about having to be there while fluffing up his wings, yet always stuck around the longest even when Techno told him he'd be fine on his own.)

And with them around, Techno realized that despite being the only human, he had never felt less alone.

#technoblade #origin smp #mcyt #shara writes #human techno my beloved <3 #also sickfic mY BELOVED

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mister-supernova · 4 years

Text

Memories Lost

Part 1 - Part 2

Pairing: Hope Mikaelson x Reader

Before Malivore

“Y/n L/n, please do not tell me that you forgot to add eggs to the cake mix.”

Your eyes widen like a child who is about to be in some serious trouble by their parents. Now that you thought about it, something did feel off about the batter you’ve been struggling to stir for the past five minutes.

You look up from your batter bowl to see Hope staring at you with daggers in her eyes.

Yep, you were screwed.

After gently placing your wisk on the kitchen table, you give the tribrid the best innocent smile you could, “Okay. I won’t tell you that, but I will tell you that we’re going to have to start over since there may or may not be a key ingredient missing from the mix.”

As much as you wanted the smile to dilute the situation, Hope still pinches the bridge of her nose and runs her fingers through her hair, obviously more stressed out than ever.

Today is Commonwealth Day and some of Hope’s family members from New Orleans are supposed to be coming into town, one of which includes her mother. If anything you felt that you should’ve been the one who was stressed out.

“How do you forget to add eggs to a cake mix, Y/n?” Hope asks, flailing the full carton of eggs around. She looked like she was on the verge of erupting like Pompeii.

You decide to approach with caution, “Okay, okay,” you slowly reach for the carton and carefully take it from her hand, “Let’s not break the only eggs left in the fridge, yeah? We do need those. Let’s also take a steady breather for a second.”

The two of you inhale one large breath of air together and then slowly breathe out.

“There we go, Hope,” she’s still looking at you with a small amount of fire in her eyes, “Hey, I apologize for my idiocy. I honestly don’t know what you expected when you left me alone to make this, but it’s a minor setback.”

“That was the only box of cake mix we bought, Y/n.” Hope states.

You fall silent for a moment to let that information sink in, “Okay, slightly more than minor setback,” Hope lets out a frustrated groan and moves past you, “We don’t have to make a cake, Hope. I saw a box of brownie mix in the pantry.”

“Yeah, that says ‘Lizzie Saltzman’s Brownie Mix: DO NOT TOUCH’ in big black letters. In case you don’t recall, I’m not exactly in her good graces at the moment.”

“Eh, name me one person who is in her good graces,” you shrug as if it’s no big deal and take the box out anyways, giving it a good shake, “Doesn’t feel like she put any jinxes on it. My arm has yet to fall off so therefore I think we should be safe.”

Hope gives you a look telling you that she’s still unsure of this.

“Come on, I of all people know how much crap she makes you go through on the daily basis. What’s a box of brownie mix compared to torment?” You pause and think, ‘that’s probably a little much’, “Maybe not literal torment, but you get the picture. I’ll even take the blame if she starts asking questions.”

“Are you kidding? She’d probably kill you if she found out.”

“That’s what I have you for,” you say matter-of-factly, taking a few steps closer to the tribrid until you were face to face, “What, you thought that I was your friend because I like you?” You ask in a playful tone, making Hope roll her eyes at you even though she was clearly amused, “Keep dreaming, Mikael-” her eyes widen and she covers your mouth with her hand before it’s too late.

You are the only student in the whole school who knows that Hope’s father is Klaus Mikaelson. It took many months of trust-building after your friendship began, but one night at the pier, Hope mustered up enough courage to tell you about her family history.

She half-expected you to go running for the hills and leave her in the dust. Instead, you blew her expectations out of the water by having the calmest reaction she had ever seen. You thanked her for trusting you so much that she felt that she could tell you something not everyone knew at the time.

She made you promise not to tell anyone to which you agreed to with a pinky promise. This moment has been the only time you nearly slipped up. Thankfully no one else was in the kitchen, but who knows who could be walking by.

You raise an eyebrow at Hope, glancing down at her hand that was still covering your mouth.

Hope quickly retracts her hand back, “Sorry. It was just, you know-”

“No, that was my bad. Good save though... Marshall.” You say, followed by a cheeky wink.

A tint of red flushes Hope’s cheeks as she gives you a thankful smile, causing your cheeks to warm up as well.

You clear your throat and break eye contact with the tribrid, “Shall we get started?” You ask, raising the brownie mix up to your face, “Ass beating from Lizzie or not, I still wanna make a good first impression on your family, especially your mom. God knows you’ve probably dragged my name through the dirt every chance you had.”

Hope playfully rolls her eyes, giving you a small shove before giving in and pulling out a clean mixing bowl. “Fine, let’s just get this over with before we get busted.”

“Atta girl!” You grin widely before ripping the box open.

There was no going back now. If you two were going down, at least you were going down together and you were getting a sweet treat out of it, too.

II.

It was a beautiful day to be out at the Salvatore Boarding School for the Young and Gifted. The weather was your idea of perfect; sunny, breezy, and clear.

Students were reading outside on the grass, the younger kids were playing tag, others playing Wickery, and you were getting your ass beaten by the world’s strongest tribrid.

This was your guys’ third round of sparring for the day and you had yet to win a single one. Just when you thought you had her arm locked behind her back, she whispers the incantation, “Dimiterre.”

Everything went by so fast that you didn’t have any time to think about landing on your feet. Instead, your back slammed against the small wooden pier after being flipped over the tribrid’s shoulder. It wasn’t fair that she could just chant any spell she wanted to throw you off guard.

“Is that really all you got today, Y/n? This is just embarrassing.” She shakes her head at you like a disappointed coach.

“I’ll make you eat those words, Mikaelson,” you grunt, feeling a new surge of energy course through your body as you jump back up to your feet, “We’re just getting started.” You smirk, wiping a drop of sweat off your forehead.

Hope grins back at you, readying her position for another round of sparring. The both of you share the same look of determination, neither one backing out as you throw the first jab.

Several more rounds pass. All of which ended with your ass hitting the pier as if it were some kind of magnet.

“You’re making this too easy.” Hope says triumphantly with a cocky smile.

You huff out an exhausted breath of air, “I’m obviously letting you win, Mikaelson,” you use your arms to help you jump back to your feet, “I could easily take you down if I wanted to.”

“Oh yeah?” Hope wonders, taking a step forward. She was a little less out of breath than you, but you could tell that she was playing it off just as much as you were.

“Oh yeah. Why don’t we do one final round? This time I won’t hold back.” You challenge her.

“You seem pretty worn out for someone who was holding back.” She states and you pretend not to be hurt by her jab at your lack of combat skills.

“Maybe that’s just to fool you into thinking you can beat me again,” you shrug as you watch her readjust her gloves, “Oh, and you can’t use your magic. Too much of an advantage.”

Hope’s mouth falls open and she shakes her head, “Then I’d be at a disadvantage. You’re like a whole foot taller than me.”

“Come on, if it’s so easy you should have no problem pinning me down within two seconds of the round.”

Hope silently thinks it over in her head, then quickly comes to a decision, “Fine. Loser buys milkshakes at the Grill.”

You grin, “Deal. Prepare to pay up, Mikaelson.”

After waiting for one of you to make the first move, Hope decides to sweep kick your legs at an unfathomable speed and knocks your back to the ground.

She straddled your hips and placed her hands on both sides of your head, “Ha! Looks like someone’s- wha-”

As quickly as she knocked you to the pier just now, you pulled her neck down to where her face is inches closer to yours, trapped her arm by wrapping yours around it, lifted your leg to trap hers and then rolled your body over to where you were now on top.

Breathless and cheeks redder than before, Hope stared up at you in shock. If you were completely honest, you had no idea that move was going to work, but you were so glad that it did. For one, now you get a free milkshake and two, you’ve never had Hope Mikaelson’s face this close to yours before.

Her legs were practically wrapped around your waist and your hands were holding her arms down above her head, making her face dangerously close to yours. It would only take one of you leaning forward for something to happen.

Instead, you kept your cool, “Looks like I win.” you smile, also breathless, “I like cookies and cream, by the way.”

III.

“So you do this… for fun?” You ask, sitting as still as possible on a wooden stool in Hope’s bedroom.

It was a stormy weekend in Mystic Falls, so most of the outdoor activities were closed off until the rain cleared up, which didn’t seem to be happening anytime soon according to the weather broadcasts. You weren’t a huge fan of being alone during thunderstorms--you’d never let anyone know that--so you found yourself hanging out with Hope.

Well, you were mainly watching Hope. She came up with the idea of painting a portrait of you sitting by her window to pass the time. Being that you’ve never had a portrait painted of you before, you thought this would be kind of fun. You didn’t expect it to be such a long and quiet process, but you definitely preferred this over being scared out of your mind listening to the thunder by yourself.

Hope hums a yes to your question as she concentrates on her strokes, “Can you look back out the window?”

You sigh, turning your head to look outside for about thirty seconds before nearly falling off the stool because of the lightning bolt that crashed a couple miles away from the school. As pretty as it looked, being struck by lightning was still one of your irrational fears.

“Are you sure it’s safe for me to be looking outside?” You turn back to look at Hope.

“Y/n, I promise nothing is going to happen to you. Now sit still,” she says in a not-so-reassuring voice.

You let out an annoyed huff, but you do you’re told and turn to face the rain covered window glass.

“How long does it usually take you to do these things? Asking out of curiosity. Totally not because I’m losing feeling in my glutes.” You wonder, shifting in your stool.

“I’m usually quicker when my subject isn’t interrupting every five seconds and moving around like they have worms in their said glutes.”

You face her again with an over exaggerated look of shock on your face, “Is that some sort of degrading werewolf joke? That is extremely offensive.”

She leans away from her canvas to look at you, her eyes squinted, “I’m part werewolf, too, idiot.”

“You’re a tribrid. That’s different. One third of a werewolf doesn’t count, therefore your little worm joke hurts me more.” You stick your tongue out at her.

“Why am I friends with you again?” She’s trying her best to hide it, but you can tell that she’s resisting a smile.

“Because as sad as it is, no one else can make you smile like I do, Mikaelson.” It took a few seconds until she couldn’t help but reveal a very faint yet noticeable grin. She leaned back behind her canvas to conceal it, but there was no use since you already caught sight of it.

“Just shut up and look out the window before I cast a freeze spell on you.”

You wanted to make another snarky remark, but you knew your friend well enough to know that she was serious about casting that spell. To avoid being frozen in an uncomfortable position for God knows how long, you closed your mouth and relaxed your body before looking back out the window.

IV.

“What do you mean you can’t dance? I’ve seen you do it all the time.” Hope asks, watching you from her bed as you pace back and forth in her dorm room.

“That’s me flailing my body around like a fool hoping it looks good! I don’t know what I’m actually doing!”

Josie asked you--as a friend--to be her escort for her and Lizzie’s 15th birthday party. You’d only be dancing with her one time, but the problem was that it was supposed to be a waltz and you had absolutely no idea how to do that.

“It’s embarrassing enough that she asked me to be her escort, I don’t wanna embarrass her even more for not knowing how to do a stupid waltz!” Hope rolls her eyes before having enough of your unnecessary freakout.

She gets up from her bed to stop you from pacing, “Y/n. Just relax, okay? You freaking out is freaking me out,” she says, holding onto your shoulders, “I can teach you how to waltz.”

Your body relaxes and a small wave of relief hits you, “Seriously?”

“What? You think I can’t dance either?” Hope playfully asks, placing her hands on her hips as she tilts her head at you.

“I’ve never seen you do it before,” you argue, getting a small smack to the arm, “Ow! Okay, I’m obviously kidding… sort of,” she smacks you again, making you laugh this time, “Okay, okay. Forreal now, I could really use your help.”

Hope sighs, pretending to have second thoughts because of your teases. You don’t worry too much though because you know she wouldn’t leave you to crash and burn like that... at least you really hope so.

“Give me your hand.” She gives in, fitting one of her hands in yours. You grin as your other hand finds her waist and hers rests on your shoulder, “Make sure you’re relaxed, you wouldn’t want to look stiff as a board while you’re dancing.”

You nod your head, taking in a deep breath as you let your muscles relax.

“Also, always have your eyes on your partner. You’re more likely to be tripping on their feet if you keep looking down.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard.” You say without meaning for it to leave your head. Hope bows her head for a second to hide the redness appearing on her cheeks.

After composing herself, Hope looks back up at you, “First, step forward with your left,” you follow her movements smoothly, “Step sideways to the right,” your right foot steps out, “Close your feet together, then step back with your right,” you glance down at your feet for a second which was your first mistake.

You slightly stumbled, but caught yourself when you put your feet back together.

Hope chuckles, “What did I tell you?”

“Hey, now cut me a little slack. I was doing pretty good for a second there,” you defend yourself before repositioning your feet, “What’s next?”

“Step to the left, bring your feet together, then repeat it all over again but a little faster. You’re going to want to count one-two-three in your head to stay in rhythm,” you raise an inquisitive eyebrow, making her smile, “Okay, I’ll count out loud and you repeat the moves we just finished learning. Does that sound good?”

You nod quickly, then she takes her step back and you follow, remembering what she taught you. Forward, right, together. Back, left, together. Forward, right, together. Back, left, together. The longer you two went on, the quicker you picked up on the moves and the more comfortable you felt.

Eventually, you felt that you didn’t need to keep dancing with Hope, but it was hard not to keep going when you have the most beautiful girl in your arms right now.

“Stop looking so smug.” Hope says, noticing the smile that appeared on your face. Even though she stopped counting, the two of you continued to flow around her room gracefully.

“I’m waltzing with the big and bad tribrid. How can I not be smug?”

It’s Hope’s turn to smile, but she gives you a playful eyeroll to counter the fact that she was enjoying this, “If you tell anyone I did this for you, you’re dead.”

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t dare let anyone know you’re an actual decent person, Hope Mikaelson. It’ll be our little secret.” You wink at her, making her cheeks even redder. She moves her mouth to one side of her face to keep herself from smiling any wider.

It made your heart flutter, seeing how comfortable she was around you. You got to see the vulnerable side of her that she rarely ever showed to anyone else at the school. It’s the small moments like this that you knew you'd keep in your heart forever.

this one is more of a flashback situation in comparison to parts 1 and 2 and there’s some more happy moments since the first 2 were a little more angsty lol part 4 coming soon!

taglist: @chicken-wang09 @trikruismybitch @sodangtired

#hope mikaelson #hope mikaelson x reader #hope mikaelson imagine #legacies imagine #legacies x reader #legacies cw #legacies

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vintagegoddess12 · 3 years

Text

The Purple Brick Road (2)

Relationship: Agatha Harkness/Reader

Story summary: Agnes is in Westview when You arrived, which gave Agatha a way out of her current predicament.

Chapter Summary: Agnes finds herself walking. Reader finds herself fighting.

To check the prequel, see 5 Times Agatha Pushed the Limits and the 1 Time She Shouldn’t Have

A/N: You asked for an update! Here it is! If you want some guide on what questions you should be asking, just look at the tags below. Hope you like this chapter.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Agnes wakes up in an empty room - familiar but empty.

She goes down to her kitchen, ready to do her daily task: prepare breakfast, fix herself, wake up dear husband Ralph, and help him get to work, tend the garden, - but today was different. Today she has to go to the town square.

Has to or wants to?

She’s not entirely sure. Sometimes she feels like things are decided for her. It’s like an automatic - no, that’s not right. It’s like uhm, like-

Casserole!

The housewife landed her sight on the set of pans on her kitchen counter. Maybe Ralph would like to have chicken casserole for dinner. She approached her fridge and began taking out the ingredients, even though she does not remember buying them at all.

Potatoes.

Carrots.

Chicken.

Autopilot!

That is the word she’s looking for. It’s like life on autopilot. Agnes placed the ingredients down and tried to think more. Why is it on autopilot? Try as she might, she can’t dig deep inside her brain.

Agnes finds herself threading the road of Westview leading to the town gazebo. A little pep in her step made it look like she meant to do this; to walk out of her house and go without any reason but she doesn’t. She can’t even remember when she decided to leave the comfort of her four walls.

“Ralph will sure be confused when he wakes up without his food,” she thought to herself. Agnes, despite being alone outside, scoffed as if the idea of a waiting husband is repulsive enough.

Unlike her normal expressions, this one feels like rebellion. Like she’s going off-script. Like someone else is reacting for her. Who could that be? Agnes is Agnes. Wife of Ralph. Friend of Wanda. Westview’s most nosy neighbor. Though “most” feels like an empty title. After all, she’s the only one in this town.

The confusion in her head did not stop her from reaching the gazebo. She looks at the town square and its suffocating imagery of unkempt grass and fallen leaves. The white paint seems to darken over time. There are chairs strewn all over the place. Facilities that are far too dirty for her liking. One glaring fact is that it’s empty. It’s always empty, especially these days.

She still can’t remember why she has to be here. Her neighborly presence isn’t exactly needed when there is no one at all. Not when her feet are aching to be elsewhere. Somewhere that isn’t here - or in Westview at all.

Agnes was about to walk away when she heard leaves crunch against the ground. The unmistakable sound of footsteps approaches her and she can’t help but feel excited. Someone’s here. Someone other than her and her good-for-nothing husband is here. A warm feeling sets across her skin, with her heart pumping so fast.

She meets the owner of the welcomed footsteps just around the gazebo. A sight to behold. A person to befriend. A witch to help me!

What?

Agnes immediately forgets the last thought when she greets her with her friendliest voice in history.

“Hiya, hon! I’m Agnes!

---

[Y/N] woke up in a strange room with familiar faces.

Eight to be exact. The eight Mothers surround the walls of the unfamiliar room, where they are not the strangest thing for you. On your bedside is a man holding your hand, worry evident in his eyes. You also see your mother nearby, her eyes red and tired.

You looked at them, trying to fathom what could have happened that required such an audience. Your body started coping up with your mind and distributed pain all over. The mattress underneath you is the only solace against the ache in your limbs. You can only mutter what seems to be the most important thought in your head.

“Where’s Agatha?” Your voice hoarse and small reached the ears of the Witch Mother. She smiled weakly. Happy to see you awake, afraid to know what happens next.

“[y/n], you’re alive!” The man, whom you know as Eli, you groom, greeted you. His hold tightened and his smile widened. His presence, though comforting, does not calm the wave of worry you have for your friend. Where is she?

“I’m so glad you’re awake, dear,” your mother’s voice brought you back to the present. She looks so tired. Now that you see it, all of them are exhausted but why?

“Where is Agatha?” You try to ask once more, hoping this time you get an answer. The Mothers looked amongst themselves before asking Eli to leave the room. He released your hand and told you to ask for him should you need anything. He left the room but not before hugging your mother goodbye. What is happening?

The Witch Mother trained her gaze on you while the others asked how you felt. Confused with everything, you replied, “I’m fine.”

Something is not fine here.

You decide to ask the question you should have had when you woke up. “What happened?”

The Mothers looked at Evanora, waiting for the queen to speak up. Despite your misunderstanding, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for the dark circles emerging under her eyes.

She cleared her throat before speaking. “You were found in the forest, unconscious. The Book of the Cursed is suspected to have played a part in this.”

“When you say unconscious, do you mean dead?” You asked as snippets of what happened slowly coming back.

“Yes,” she replied, water forming in her eyes. “We brought you back using a ritual that used most of our life force.”

“Necromancy?” You sat up on the bed, anxious to hear her reply.

The practice of reanimation is a spell used to bring people back for only a short period of time. Borrowed life for borrowed time. You glanced at your chest and noticed it rises and falls in its own accord. No witch or Mother is controlling it.

“Something more divine,” she answered vaguely, her eyes darting to a covered book with tendrils of magic around it.

You remember the forbidden artifact that started all of it. “Divine or cursed?” You asked bitterly.

The mattress dipped beside you and you can feel your mother caress your face. You turned to her familiar touch. “The important thing, love, is that you’re here,” she pulled you into a hug. “You’re safe with us.”

Your mother let you go and smiled at you. Still, your heart is racing until you know your friend’s destiny. “You still haven’t answered my question.” Silence fell upon the room. Everyone is scared to verbalize the future of the maiden in question.

“Where the hell is Agatha?”

One of the Mothers had the courage to speak up, afraid that you might retaliate should they make you wait any longer. “She’s being detained…” she trailed off, hoping someone else could continue. You looked at her expectantly, urging her to go on. “...on the grounds of the murder of a sister witch.”

You turned to Evanora, only to see defeat in her eyes.

“She didn’t do this to me.”

“[y/n], she was caught in the act,” your mother tried to reach for you but you swatted her away.

You got up from the bed, ignoring the pain in your body. “Agatha can never hurt me. She will never lay a finger on me.” You tried to reason.

“Agatha Harkness’s behavior has proven that she is not above hurting others, should it allow her to get what she wants.” A Mother explained.

“Yes, the Tug,” another seconded.

“The Tug was different, we were dueling.” You intercepted. They’re accusing her of a crime she had nothing to do with. Nothing may not be the right word. Still, you know in your heart that she didn’t do this.

The Mothers listed all the reasons why Agatha should be detained and punished, with the exception of Evanora. Commotion filled the room and all you could do was try to remember what happened.

The Book of the Cursed is placed between you and Agatha, it’s magic inviting.

Flashes of your hands being tied come to your mind.

Agatha approached the book. The black mists enclose her hands, yellow magic touching blue. She allowed the energy to flow through her every vein. You watched as Agatha Harkness embraced the darkness. You tugged on your magical bindings, hoping to free yourself but you were too late. Blue irises became purple. Blue magic became purple. Blue became no more.

“If you have any information,” the Witch Mother’s voice rose above the others, “that can relieve Agatha of these allegations, tell us now than later.”

The maiden held the ball of purple energy in her hand. Entranced and enlightened. You witnessed how the book responds to her, every tendril in her command. Agatha met your gaze, her expression unreadable to you. Suddenly, the purple magic was sent flying in your direction.

“What happens later?” You asked, even though you know the answer. You’re a Mother. You know the rules. You know it all too well.

“She will be burned at the stake,” she replied with her voice breaking. Your eyes widened and rushed towards her. You were stopped, however, by a ring of blue mists going around the room. A protection ring to keep you inside cast by the Mothers.

“You have to stay here, [y/n].” Your mother joined the others as they walked out the door. “I will not let her hurt you ever again.”

“Mother, who hurts me is up to me,” you tried to reason even if you know it’s already pointless. “And I’m telling you she can never do that to me. Agatha is not a murderer!” The verdict is out for them. She’s already tainted in their eyes.

You hate how your memory is not as pristine as it used to be. Only flashes of what happened are in your mind. Still, you try to replay what happened.

Agatha met your gaze, her expression unreadable to you. Suddenly, the purple magic was sent flying in your direction.

No, that can't be right. She will never.

Agatha can never hurt you, right?

#wandavision #agatha harkness #agatha harknes x reader #agnes wandavision #agnes x reader #wanda maximoff #the purple brick road #what can I say?#I'm a sucker for angst #Did Agatha hurt you?#Is Agnes gonna be okay?#Will you remember what happened?#is Eli a good guy?

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iloveyou3thousand · 4 years

Note

Not sure if you're still doing fluff prompts, bit I'd love something where Peter is the new boy in school and Tony is immediately attracted, and goes out his way to make Peter feel welcome.

I am always doing fluff prompts. Need me that good shit !!

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Tony doesn’t usually notice when a new boy starts attending his school. He doesn’t usually care. The school is too big to discern a new face in the crowds of people that walk in and out of those double doors every day, not to mention his attention is in a far too high demand for him to even think of taking note of however many others surround him day by day.

But when, during first period, a new boy comes strolling hesitantly into his first biology class of the day, Tony’s head perks up.

He’s got the cutest mop of curls he’s ever seen, and although he would never, ever dress someone with a physique like that in clothes like those, they kind of…suit him, actually. All in all, he doesn’t look half bad, which is what catches his eye first before he even notices the Star Wars pin on his backpack as the boy starts making his way toward the back of the classroom past where Tony usually prefers to sit.

Tony’s head actually turns, too, to watch him. That must have been quite the sight for anyone involved. Tony is usually the person who turns others’ heads, not the other way around. But clearly, this boy is an exception.

He goes and sits right behind Tony, which gives him an opportunity to twist in his seat and give him his most charming smile.

“Hey, new guy. Nice badge,” he says, one corner of his mouth turning up until a hint of teeth is revealed. That usually works on the ladies around. Tony has yet to figure out if it works on the guys, too, but that’s a program already in progress.

The boy looks a little bewildered at first, as if he can’t really believe he’s being addressed. He blinks at Tony, who silently notes that he has the most lovely brown eyes he’s ever seen, and the cutest frown too, when his brows knit together for a moment.

It sinks in quickly enough and he realizes that he is, indeed, ‘new guy’, and he flashes Tony a nervous but enthusiastic smile, probably catching up to the fact that Tony is talking about the Star Wars pin on his backpack strap.

“Thanks!” He beams, then his eyes are searching for a moment, and Tony tilts his head, unsure what the boy is searching for exactly.

“I like your…” He starts, hesitates, and then seems to find something, “Sunglasses.”

Tony casts his eyes up toward his hair where he knows his Ray-Bans rest on top of his head. He reaches up, tips them down with a single finger, and then pushes them down his nose further so he can look over the rim and send the new boy a quick wink.

“Thanks, geek.” He makes sure he says it fondly, to get across that he does not think of the word as something derogative.

Hopefully the boy will soon find out just how much of a compliment it is in reality.

Class starts and as the lesson progresses Tony finds out that Peter – that’s his name, as their teacher introduced him in the first few minutes, which seemed to make Peter very nervous, and it was the most endearing thing as he stumbled through the forced introduction – is not just a geek, but an actual, proper nerd. It’s like he harbors knowledge or something, with how effortlessly he seems to make it through their first class. And that’s something coming from Tony, who spends so very little time actually studying and yet he still always manages to get near-perfect grades.

He only fails, or gets below average, when he wants to annoy his family or grab the attention of his father. It’s warped, because it should be the good grades that do the trick – but instead it’s always the bad, and nothing else.

It doesn’t matter. Peter is clever. He’s bright, intelligent, knows how to keep up in class even though any time Tony glances over his own shoulder to catch sight of him for a moment, he sees he’s drifting off, mind clearly somewhere else. Like he’s a bit of a scatterbrain.

More than once does Tony wonder what he’s thinking about. He kind of hopes that somewhere in that clever brain of his, he makes an appearance. A positive appearance, of course. First impressions are everything, and Tony thinks that he’s nailed it when it comes to Peter, but there is only one way to really find out, and he starts the second the bell rings and he stands to turn to Peter to extend his hand.

“I’m Tony,” he introduces himself candidly. Peter looks surprised again, although this time it’s mostly directed at the hand that Tony is holding out. Nevertheless, much to Tony’s delight, the boy takes the offer, and they briefly shake hands.

“I’m Peter,” he says, “But you already knew that, thanks to Mr. Cower’s embarrassing introduction.”

Tony chuckles. There is something about the way Peter looks genuinely humiliated that kind of makes him want to slap a hand on his back and tell him he’ll be alright, and that no one will think any worse of him because of it. And if anything, he’ll make sure that Peter is welcomed at their school like no one else ever has been.

He’ll get the whole VIP treatment, from the one and only Tony Stark, and if anyone has a problem with that then obviously they’ll have to go through Tony first. But hopefully it won’t get that far. He’ll just need to make sure that everybody knows that Tony has taken Peter under his wing and there is one way of getting that across, and that’s by walking Peter to his next class.

“It’s fine, honestly. Don’t worry about it. Mr. Cower is always like that, I’m sure people forgot the second they walked out of here.” Tony gives Peter an encouraging little smile and is glad to see that the boy actually looks slightly more relaxed at the reassurance. And when their hands retreat at the same time, Tony sticks his into the pocket of his jeans while he waits for Peter to pack up his backpack.

He’s already packed up himself. He only had one book out and he shoved that into his bag seconds before the bell rang so he’d be able to make a quick escape like he normally does, but obviously his plan has changed quite drastically now.

“Thanks. Still really hope I won’t have to do that in any of my other classes,” Peter smirks.

Tony waves the hand that’s not in his pocket with gentle dismissal, pushing that worry away.

“That’s just the first day. After that is when the real stuff begins.”

“I hope you mean the real school stuff, not the real humiliating stuff.”

Tony laughs, and can’t help but think that Peter’s smile is just the cutest thing he’s seen all day.

They walk toward the door together, and Tony asks Peter what class he has next, and where. He pretends that it’s on his way to his own next class, and walks Peter there, asking him about himself and why he’d transferred to his school halfway through the year.

He finds out pretty quickly that Peter lives with his aunt, and that a few weeks ago his uncle was murdered, and with the life insurance money his aunt had moved them to a slightly better part of town, where he’d be able to attend a better school. And hopefully avoid getting snuffed himself, although that’s not something that Peter said – Tony just assumes that it’s a part of the whole moving thing.

Tony, in turn, tells Peter a little bit about himself, although it’s mostly shallow. He lives nearby, used to go to a private school but didn’t want that anymore and convinced his parents to let him go here. It’s nothing particularly exciting, but Peter listens to his every word, and seems interested.

It’s strange, but pleasant. Tony doesn’t think anyone has ever showed such genuine interest before. He has plenty of friends, and if he threw a party then it is guaranteed to be popular, and kids in the halls usually say something when he walks past them – but other than that, he supposes he doesn’t really have any true friends at the school.

But Peter is so open, and so welcoming, and he’s so sweet and genuine, and Tony can’t help but think that maybe, if he does his best and plays this right, Peter might be the kind of person who could actually be his friend.

And hey, if he can somehow get a little bit more than that, then Tony will consider himself the luckiest boy at their school. But it’s too early for that, and Peter flusters easily. When they get to Peter’s next class and Tony touches his arm, he can see the boy go red around the neck, and he bustles through a timid goodbye when the bell rings before Tony is off in the opposite direction to make his way to History.

“See you at lunch?” Tony calls before Peter has the time to duck into the classroom. Tony walks backwards to watch Peter turn, and give him a shy smile.

“Sure. I’ll meet you at the cafeteria. If I can find it.”

Tony doesn’t usually go to the cafeteria, but for Peter, he’ll make an exception.

The cafeteria hall is bursting with kids, freshmen running around and screaming to be heard over the cacophony of voices, sophomores a little quieter but still just about as energetic, as if they have yet to shed their downy feathers. Juniors and seniors are mostly outside on the football field, hanging out on the bleachers or taking advantage of what little sun they’ve had lately on the grass.

Peter sheepishly admits that he forgot to bring lunch, which is why he wanted to meet up here. Tony doesn’t hesitate in paying for Peter’s lunch when the boy is digging around in his wallet for the right amount, and he can see, over his shoulder, that he’s going to be short.

“Let me cover it this once, as a welcome present.”

And when Peter protests, it gives him an excuse to offer for him to pay him back on the weekend, maybe with a coffee somewhere. Peter looks so sweetly flustered again and Tony can’t help but adore him a little bit more for it. Jesus, what’s wrong with him? What is he doing, asking out a guy who, up until a few hours ago, didn’t even exist for him?

Tony doesn’t know why he even noticed him in the first place. Maybe it was the ugly button down, maybe it was the curls, maybe it was the way he moved that suggested he really didn’t want anyone to notice he was there in the first place. Maybe that’s why Tony saw him more than he had ever seen anyone else.

Whatever the case, whatever the cause, Tony knows that he’s done for even before Peter coyly agrees to get coffee with him on the weekend.

They sit down outside to have their lunch, and are soon swarmed by peers, but Tony’s attention keeps going back to Peter – who sits, mostly quietly, eating his lunch as he tries to remain invisible for the most part. But Tony notices him. He sees him. His new favorite thing might be when Peter looks up and catches his eye and subsequently smiles. He does it a few times throughout their break, and Tony loves it more and more every single time it happens.

He walks Peter back inside after, and to his next class. Peter comments on how many friends Tony seems to have, and Tony kind of shrugs it off.

“It’s nice to have someone to hang out with,” Peter insists, giving Tony a meaningful look, “Thank you. For kind of like…taking me under your wing today. I was really freaking out about the first day, this morning. Thought it would be… I dunno. Kind of lonely, I guess.”

Tony smirks. “Trust me, you’ll be so sick of me by the end of the week that you’ll wish you were lonely.”

Peter connects his knuckles to Tony’s upper arm at that, and quite firmly too. Tony flinches and wraps his hand around the assaulted spot, giving the other boy an affronted look and “hey!”.

“Serves you right,” Peter says, even though he looks torn between standing his ground and making sure that Tony is alright, “I know I won’t be sick of you. I actually think you’re really nice. And I’d like to spend more time with you.”

No one’s ever really said that to Tony before, not in those exact words. It’s usually the opposite, so it takes him a little bit by surprise. Clearly, Peter notices.

“Why are you surprised? We have the same interests, we’re both similarly intelligent, and—y’know…” Peter trails off with a shrug. Tony doesn’t, in fact, ‘know’, but the dozen or so options to fill that in that Tony can think of are all positive. “Besides,” Peter unexpectedly continues, “We have a date this weekend.”

Tony is now well and truly stunned into silence. If he wasn’t before, he is now. A date. While it’s what Tony intended for it to be when he offered back in the cafeteria, he knew he’d do best not to fool himself into thinking of it as such, since he was convinced that it would never come across that way. But now it seems that Peter thought of it the same way as him all along, and he’s pleased. Beyond pleased.

He realizes he hasn’t said anything yet when Peter’s expression changes into something disheartened and ashamed, and he’s about to say something when Tony quickly cuts in.

“If you’re not sick of me by then, that is,” he says, as if correcting Peter. The boy looks privately relieved.

“Like I said,” Peter says softly as they approach his next classroom, “I know I won’t be.”

Tony leaves him in the door opening, and he doesn’t see him a lot the rest of the day. He only catches up to him briefly on his way out of the building and toward his bicycle. Tony offers him a ride, but Peter declines with a fond laugh.

It doesn’t matter anyway.

Tony gets to watch Peter ride off and twist around on his bike to wave at him one more time before he turns down the street. He heads off in the direction of his car with a skip in his step.

He has a date. But moreover, he thinks he’s made a friend. And he doesn’t believe he’s ever really had one of those before.

#starker #starker fanfic #tony stark x peter parker #peter parker/tony stark #ironspider #my fanfic #my writing #fluff #hs au #highschool au #aus #Anonymous

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the-softest-puffball · 3 years

Text

of the naming of planets and the colliding of galaxies

notes: yes this is just an excuse to infodump about space and also make more space metaphors, but i like it so

prompt: Song/Stars

pairings: analogical

warnings: a curse word or two

read on AO3

@analogicalweek

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“The constellation Orion contains two of the brightest stars in the observable night sky,” Logan said as he pointed towards the recognizable cluster of stars, “Betelgeuse and Rigel. Betelgeuse is about 300 times the size of the Sun’s diameter. It also is a red supergiant star, which is the largest class of stars. It’s so big, in fact, that when it dies, it will create a giant fireball that will be so bright it will outshine many of the stars around it for a brief moment.”

“Wow,” Virgil muttered from beside him. “That’s really cool.”

“Fascinating, isn’t it?” Logan said, his gaze fixed on the constellation. “Rigel is directly opposite to Betelguese in Orion's chest in the constellation, and it is a blue supergiant, meaning it is still larger than the sun like Betelgeuse. However, it’s surface is thousands of times hotter, making it appear blue.”

“That’s awesome.” Silence filled the air around them after that, both deep in thought. Logan kept watching the constellation, imagining the surface of the stars, imagining seeing them up close with his very own eyes.

As if Virgil could hear his thoughts, he spoke again. “Do you think we could ever visit outer space? Like, I know space travel already exists and stuff, but do you think we could go that far into space to see those stars?”

“Well, it will possibly never happen unless we somehow discover the power of immortality, as it would take us about 8 million years to reach Betelgeuse, at least where it is now.”

“Oh, jeez. Time’s so fucked up.” Virgil laughed to himself, which made Logan smile as butterflies began to awaken in his stomach.

“Yes, time is a very strange construct.”

He looked over to Virgil, who was back to gazing at the sky with complete wonder, his eyes reflecting the stars as if he had captured them from the night. Logan’s breath apparently was also captured by him, and Logan willed himself to calm down.

The cosmos Logan could understand. He could conceptualize the creation of stars, gases coming together under pressure from an intense amount of gravity until it explodes in a sequence of fusion reactions. He could comprehend the constellations in the sky, how ancient people saw shapes in the sky and decided to connect them to their own mythologies and history. However, Virgil and his feelings towards him were an enigma.

Logan didn’t ever mean Virgil being an enigma as a bad thing; he always thought of enigmas as a new thing to learn, a new thing to explore. Virgil was another mystery that he wanted to uncover. Another universe that he wanted to understand, which confused him the most.

Logan had never been so fascinated by another being before. Space had interested him since Thomas was a child, and chemistry had come later, so much so that his infatuation with it spread to Thomas and pushed him towards getting a degree in chemical engineering. It was one of Logan’s proudest achievements, but Virgil made him feel different things than when he was looking through a telescope at the newest star he had learned about or when he was mixing different elements together to see how they reacted to each other. Virgil made him feel like he was solving a puzzle, but a puzzle that gave him figurative butterflies and distracted him from everything that wasn’t related to him.

Logan was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice Virgil had turned back towards him, possibly to ask a question, until he started talking again.

“Hey, you alive there?” He said with a joking smile, Logan quickly blinking for a moment to break the trance he was in.

“Yes, I’m alright. Why would I have died if I had been lost in thought too long?” He replied, catching back up to Virgil’s words.

“It’s an expression, Lo.” Virgil laughed again, the combination of Virgil’s laughter and the nickname he had used making Logan’s heart figuratively skip a beat. “Anyways, I have another question.”

“Of course, what is it?” Logan was glad Virgil seemed excited to learn about space and shared a similar appreciation to it. Answering questions was something that Logan thought was one of his strengths.

“How did all the planets get their names? I know they’re all based on ancient gods and stuff but how did we decide on those names for each planet?”

Logan thought for a second, trying to recall the information as he looked back out to the sky. “The planets in our solar system are named after ancient mythology, specifically Greek and Roman mythology, which you are correct about, but they were named over thousands of years ago. Mercury was named after the god of travel, possibly based on how fast it moves across the sky. Venus is named after the goddess of love and beauty, and only the moon and the sun shine brighter than it, at least from our viewpoint on Earth. Mars was the god of war, therefore the red planet, a color associated with blood and war, was named after it. Jupiter was the ancient Roman’s version of Zeus, and it is the biggest planet in the solar system. Saturn was named after the god of agriculture, though we are not sure why. Those were all of the ones that were observed by ancient astronomers, the outer planets only being discovered more recently, following the naming process of the other planets.”

Logan turned towards Virgil again, who had been watching him explain. “I hope that wasn’t too much information.”

“Nah, that’s really interesting. So the planets besides Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto are all observable from Earth?”

“Yes, you are correct.”

“Wow.” Virgil looked to the stars. “Can we see any right now?”

Logan followed his gaze, scanning the night to see if he recognized any of the planets. Then, he spotted the small red spec of Mars, pointing at it. “There, you can see Mars clearly next to the constellation Taurus.”

Virgil leaned closer to him so he could follow his hand easier, which made Logan fluster slightly. It wasn’t the first time he and Virgil had gotten this close, but something felt different this time.

He looked at Virgil’s face, seeing as he stared with a furrowed brow, concentrating on trying to see it. Logan thought he looked adorable like that, which then made him want to shake his head to get the thoughts out of his mind. It wouldn’t actually work, but it didn’t make the urge to do it any less strong.

However, Virgil’s eyes then lit up as a grin stretched across his face. “I see it!”

Logan quickly looked back at the planet, feeling Virgil move away from him, which made Logan a little more upset than it should have. God, his feelings were so confusing.

“That’s awesome,” Virgil muttered. “That’s really Mars?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Woah.” Virgil paused. “Really puts into perspective the size of the universe, doesn’t it?”

Logan thought about it for a moment. The red spec floating between the billion of stars that looked about exactly the same size was a planet. He had never thought about it that much to realize it fully. “I suppose you’re right." He paused. "Doesn’t it make you feel small, though?”

“No. In fact, it kind of gives me comfort, you know? Like, you were telling me last time, we are all made of the same atoms and elements the stars are made of, so it almost makes me feel at home. We might be only here for a small amount of time but the universe has been here for billions of years, and just, I don’t know, it’s nice to know that we aren’t all alone. Maybe we'll become our own stars when we die.”

Logan looked back towards Virgil, the intense feelings of confusion and butterflies and love rushing back to him. The idea of Virgil finding comfort in the stars in that way made Logan understand the universe in a whole different way. He had always seen the universe more as collection of things to learn, but Virgil offering such a different perspective, connecting what he had learned to an emotion of loneliness and home was something Logan had never been able to do. The thought of Virgil being such a fascinating enigma returned, this time in such a profound and fond way Logan had to at least express his appreciation for such an interesting, figuratively eye-opening idea.

“You are much more astute than people lead on,” he said, hoping that Virgil understood what he meant.

“What? No, it’s nothing,” Virgil replied, glancing over at Logan before looking at the grass they were sitting on, slightly flustered.

“It is not nothing, you offered a fascinating perspective that I have never been able to even connect together myself.”

“Well, thanks.” Virgil sent him a smile, Logan noticing even in the dark the red dusting his cheeks. Logan returned the smile himself, hoping it didn’t look too fond as he didn’t want to let all of his emotions for Virgil figuratively spill all over the floor.

“You are a wonderful listener, Virgil. Thank you for joining me these past couple times.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem. Anytime.” Virgil looked back to the sky, his grin returning as he gazed at Mars.

Logan checked the time with his phone. 1:21 am. They should probably go to sleep soon if they wanted to be able to help Thomas fully tomorrow.

“We should go back, it has gotten quite late,” he said, voicing his earlier thoughts.

“Okay,” Virgil replied, but making no moves to actually get up. Logan slowly stood to his feet, stretching a bit as sitting on the grass for an hour or two was not very beneficial for his body.

He held out a hand for Virgil to grab, pulling him up when he did. Virgil also stretched, Logan turning around so he couldn’t see how flustered he was. His feelings were going to be the death of him if every time Virgil even touches him it sends shockwaves up his spine.

He started making his way to the door of the Imagination, which was just about a 3 minute walk away, but then he heard Virgil behind him speak.

“Hey, uh, actually, I have another question,” he said. Logan stopped, turning back towards him.

“What is it?”

Virgil got closer to him. “Well, you were talking about how the planets are named after ancient gods, and, uh, so Venus is named after the ancient Roman god of love, so, do you think that, uh, affects our lives here?”

“Well, of course, Venus is the name we use for the planet-”

“No, I mean, like…” Virgil paused and took another step closer, which was starting to distract Logan to an unreasonable amount. “Does that planet, and therefore the god it’s associated with, affect our relationships with people and how we feel about them?”

“Oh, you mean like astrology?”

“Yeah, I guess, yeah.”

“Well, there’s no specific scientific evidence supporting it, but perhaps, since many have said the planets’ positions in the universe is quite accurate in figuring out certain personality traits or relationships with others.”

“Oh, well, uh, okay.” Virgil seemed more anxious than usual, and Logan began to worry.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, it’s just, uh, that was actually just a really shitty segway into the actual question I wanted to ask, which is…” Virgil gulped and took Logan’s hands with his own. Logan instantly flushed deeply once more, and his stomach felt like the figurative butterflies had multiplied. “Since we mentioned a goddess of love, I wanted to ask…”

Logan didn’t dare interrupt. He didn’t know where Virgil was going with this, but he didn’t seem to care when it felt like he could barely get a sentence out anyway.

Finally, Virgil found the courage to say it.

“Can I kiss you?” He looked right into Logan’s eyes as he spoke, and Logan felt as if he was going to fall over if it wasn’t for Virgil’s touch grounding him. “Like, just I already liked you before, but right now I just realized while you were talking that I think I’m in love with you, and it’s cool if you don’t want to or if you don’t like me that way, we could just pretend this never happened, and yeah.”

Logan couldn’t find the words to reply. It was as if Virgil had taken all the words from his mouth by saying four words, four that Logan couldn’t believe he would ever hear. He knew he should respond, but his mouth wasn’t responding to his brain, which he knew was actually unlikely but it felt like it. How Virgil had managed to make him completely speechless was another mystery that Logan was desperate to solve. However, he noticed Virgil still staring at him, probably waiting for him to say something, and Logan sucked in a breath just enough so he could speak.

“Please do,” he said, breathless and a whisper, which he thought was completely pathetic but Virgil must have thought it was the best thing he’s ever heard because he grinned as bright as the sun before pressing their lips together.

It was as if two galaxies collided together; a merging of completely different planets and stars forming into one beautiful spectacle. Logan went to run his hand through Virgil’s hair, tugging slightly and moving his lips against Virgil’s as Virgil’s hands moved to his hips. Logan felt like he was moving through an entirely different universe, but it was one of the most captivating and effervescent universes he had ever seen.

This amount of emotions Logan was experiencing at that very moment threatened to overwhelm him, so he pushed Virgil back a bit to break the kiss.

He took a couple shaky breaths, his eyes still closed. He still had so many questions about Virgil, perhaps even more now, but when he opened his eyes and saw Virgil staring at him like how he stared at the stars he couldn’t seem to mind anymore.

“That was… wonderful,” he said, at a loss for any other words that could describe even the slightest of what he feels. Virgil laughs.

“Nerd. Come on, let’s head back.” Virgil separated a little more, but still grabbed Logan’s hand with his own as they began walking back to the door.

Logan looked back at the sky, stopping Virgil in his tracks as well, and watched as the stars twinkled knowingly from their spots in the night. He gave one last glance at Betelgeuse and Rigel and smiled.

Maybe he understood how to connect emotions to the stars after all.

#analogical #logan sanders #virgil sanders #liz writes #analogicalweek #of the naming of planets and the colliding of galaxies

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debu-neko-kun · 4 years

Text

Brand New Moo

A brand new story, idea courtesy of the ever-excellent commissioner (https://www.deviantart.com/doom7951) I really really liked working on this for ideas that may be obvious! Stay tuned for more flubby boys soon-ish! Contains: male weight gain, ssbhm, male lactation, human to boy-cow, cute fat gay stuff

James slumped down in the seat. It felt so wrong to be waiting here, he thought, thinking about what his boss would say if he saw him sitting here… he tapped his foot on the floor, hoping that would make him feel busy, but it just earned him a dirty look from the receptionist, so he opted to just slump deeper into his chair.

“James Rode?”

He sat up, smoothing out his button-up shirt. “Yes?”

“The doctor is available to see you now. Please enter the door to the left.”

James entered the office, expecting to see a sterile hospital room with gurneys and little jars of tongue depressors… Instead, he found himself in a carpeted room, the walls all wood paneling and decorated with diplomas and woodsy paraphernalia like bundles of herbs and wooden carvings.

Perhaps he knew less about this therapy stuff than he thought.

“Hello, Mr. Rode. I’m pleased to see you’ve made it; have a seat, if you’d like.”

James hesitated by the door. ‘I would *like* to go home…’ he mumbled, but stepped his way to the wide couch situated in front of the desk. He gently lowered himself into it, feeling more than a little small with his slender frame surrounded by so much empty seat.

“A little introduction, if I may.” the therapist smiled, tapping the plaque on his desk. “Dr. Maxwell Sweet. I used to own Sweet Farm Dairy, if you can believe it.”

“Never heard of it.” James spoke.

“Ah, well, can’t impress every time.” he chuckled, continuing on about his schooling, but James was already zoning out, sizing him up in his head. Dr. Sweet was slim, pale, well-dressed… probably didn’t spend too much time outside anymore, if the dairy story was to be believed. He wore glasses, making him seem bookish, and the clean-shaven face and well-kempt part in his smoothly combed brown hair made him seem concerned with appearances… not much to go on yet, but James felt like he’d make a respectable adversary in the boardroom regardless.

“…but I felt genetics wasn’t as fulfilling by itself. Are you okay, Mr. Rode?”

“Hmm?” James snapped out of his focused expression, taking a moment to rub his sharp blue eyes. “Sorry, a little tired. Late meeting yesterday…”

“Do you have a lot of late meetings, Mr. Rode?”

“James,” he corrected, “But yeah, I suppose I do. It’s the only way to stay ahead out there, you know?”

“I understand.” Dr. Sweet smiled, scribbling something on a pad on his desk. “Would you say this is the main source of your stress? The pressure to succeed, that is.”

“I, uh-” James stammered. “Are we starting already? I thought you would say when we were starting.”

“Just building a picture, that’s all. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to let you know when we get into the real stuff, if you’d like.”

“Okay, well… thanks.” James wilted a little. He wasn’t used to this, showing his cards so openly…

“Stress is the main reason you’re here, correct?”

“Yes… I mean, well, I’m here because of my boyfriend… I didn’t notice anything, but my boyfriend Kriss says I’ve been acting stressed.”

“Stressed in what way?”

“Distant… angry, sad, stuff like that. He says I haven’t been eating either, but I mean, when do I have the time? There’s just a lot to do, and nobody gets that. Nobody understands how hard it is to keep doing the same damn thing day after day, never getting a moment to just stop and relax. It’s not my fault I have to stay a few hours over every day, it’s not my fault I miss the train, it’s not my fault I have to stay with this job or else-”

James stopped, noticing the psychologist watching him intently, a furrowed-brow intensity in his expression.

“Sorry.” James sighed, folding his arms over his ribs, his gaze drifting back to the dried lavender on the wall. “Yeah. Just stressed.”

“I see,” Dr. Sweet said, underlining something on the pad with a quick scratch. “Well, I’m very glad you came to see us, James. I think this treatment will be very helpful in getting you into a better state of mind.”

“Yeah… that’s what Kriss said, too. What is this treatment, anyway? Are you just going to ask me about my past and… give advice, or something?”

“Oh, nothing like that, no. You see, I specialize in a sort of blended treatment. It’s quite ahead of its field, really. Good for people with a lot of stress and little time on their hands.”

Dr. Sweet drew a pile of papers out of his desk, dozens of forms and documents all neatly compiled into a novella of legalese. He set it gently on the desk, in front of James, and extended a pen out for him.

“…Provided you’re willing to participate, that is.”

James took the pen and the papers, sitting back to read over the front page. It was mostly filled out with his insurance information and medical history, employment information from his company, current address… everything except his name. He flipped it over, just finding more information about liability and “understanding patient responsibilities.” Just thinking about pouring over fifty sheets of legal information outside of the office, and for free, made him flip back to the front.

“Alright… well, whatever gets me out of here faster, I guess.” he murmured, scribbling his name at the bottom of the paper.

“Excellent! If you don’t mind, I’d like to get started immediately.”

Dr. Sweet’s drawer slid open, and out he pulled a small bottle of milky white fluid and a syringe.

“W-What is that for?” James asked, shocked at the sudden development. The therapy scenes in movies certainly hadn’t mentioned needles.

“Just something to help you become a little more pliable. We need you like putty for the hypnotherapy to take hold; don’t worry, it only lasts for a few minutes, and it’ll keep you relaxed for the rest of the day. That’s not so bad, is it? I promise you won’t have to keep up with any medication from here on out.”

Despite the cold sweat forming on his brow, James rolled up his sleeve and held out his arm. Dr. Sweet drew some of the liquid from the bottle with a casual precision, stood up, and slowly approached the nervous patient.

“Hold still, and…” James felt a small pinch, followed by the dull ache of the injection. “That’s it. You’ve done wonderfully already, James.”

“Hmm… thank you, I guess.” he grumbled, letting out a heavy sigh.

“The medication should activate momentarily. While we wait, why don’t we pass the time with a bit of word association?”

The room around them was already starting to feel a bit… warmer. Familiar, even. He adjusted his collar a bit, leaning back against the couch.

“Do you know how this works, James?”

“I just say the first thing that comes to my head?” he asked, stifling a yawn with his palm.

“Correct. Alright now… your first word is “barn.””

“Tractor.”

“Good.” Sweet smiled. “Your second word is ‘pasture.’”

“Uh… grass. No, hay.” He muttered hazily. He felt like laying himself down on a soft patch of land, sunlight warming his pale flesh,,,

“Very good, James. Don’t think too hard about them. Now, your third word… ‘milk’.”

“Moo…” he spoke dreamily, still thinking about the sunlight and the field. A bubble of lucidity popped to the surface suddenly, bringing a blush to his face. “N-No, I, uh, I mean cow. Cow, that’s it.”

“Excellent.” Dr. Sweet continued, scribbling more notes on his pad. “And when you think of cows, what are some words you think of?”

“Big… u-uh, soft? I don’t really know…”

“That’s fine, James. Imagine a cow standing in a field… what do you think it’s thinking about?”

A warm, electric tingle trickled down from the top of his head, flowing into his spine and down his back. He tried to focus on the words… what does a cow really think about?

“Uhm… eating? How nice the sun is on its back?…”

“And how do you think it feels when it’s warm and fed? Do you think that would make a cow happy, James?”

The tingle turned into an odd, pulsing sensation, coming from somewhere in his core… or maybe deeper than that. A warmth in his cells.

“Y-Yeah… doctor, this feels… weird…”

“The medication can be a little strong, especially the first time. But just focus on my words… would that make you happy, James? Softness, warmth, food… nothing to think about but being tended to? I like to think so.”

“Hmf… y-yeah, that’d be nice…”

Soft… warm… hungry…

“Good,” Sweet began, suddenly dropping his pen. James jolted upright, forced free from his mental drift as quickly as the pen hit the desk. “That’ll conclude our session. Remember what we’ve talked about today; it’s always good to stay in touch with that simple, wholesome part of yourself. Try and slow down a little, and indulge it; I think you’ll be feeling a lot better if you do. See you again in a week?”

“Y-Yeah… yes, that’d be fine.”

“I look forward to it. Be well, James.”

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The sun was just beginning to set by the time James arrived home. Warm wafts of sweet and savory air swept around him as he shuffled through the threshold, inviting him straight through the living room and into the kitchen. There, a tall, clean-shaven man with swept back blonde hair stood, whistling to himself. The creak of the floor alerted him to James’s entrance, the apron-clad gentlemen turning to greet him.

“Oh, hey! I thought for sure you’d be running a little late, I’m not totally done with dinner yet. How did your appointment go?”

“Mm, that smells wonderful…” James murmured, slumping into one of the dining chairs. “God, I’m starving….”

“Here,” Kriss, his boyfriend of two years, spoke, setting a dish of buttered buns in front of him. “But don’t fill up before you get to the ham. I worked really hard on it as a nice reward for you finally going to that clinic. Speaking of…”

Kriss sat down in front of him as he stuffed a bun into his mouth, propping his face up on his hand. “You didn’t say how it went.”

“The appointment? Right, sorry… it was okay. Good, actually. It was good. It was kind of weird, and I didn’t think I’d need a shot for psychotherapy, but… it was nice. I feel all calm and… gooey? I can’t really explain it… really hungry, too. Mostly hungry, actually.”

James reached for another bun, nibbling on it gently.

“Well, I guess it’s working already. I haven’t seen you eat like that in… well, ever. It’s nice, honestly.”

The oven alarm beeped as James polished off a third bun, absentmindedly chewing while Kriss got up to retrieve the ham.

Soft… warm… hungry… the words bounced around his brainstem, burying themselves somewhere in the middle of sub and thoughtful consciousness. He remembered saying them, but the meaning was mostly detached… regardless, they just sounded so right.

His ruminations were interrupted by a loaded plate being placed in front of him, also interrupting his roll supply. He breathed in the delicious scents of brown sugar in the ham, cinnamon in sweet potatoes. It was like nothing he’d ever smelled before; it was comfort, it was calm. It was… “Mmf, Kriss, this is incredible. Is this a new recipe? I could eat this forever!” he lit up, happily nibbling on the ham slice with gusto.

“Oh, uh… we had it last week, actually. Whatever they gave you sure made you hungry, huh?” he chuckled, looking a little confused, but relieved at the new development. After all, it was healthier than watching him starve himself on coffee and the occasional stick of gum. In only a few moments, James had the entire plate polished off, and returned to munching on bread rolls. “Want some more? I made extra in case you wanted to take some to work, but-” “There’s more?”

Kriss hadn’t seen him this happy since he’d said yes to their first date.

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

“A-Ah, Kriss-!”

“Shh, we’re almost there.” Kriss cooed, shouldering the bedroom door open, his boyfriend carried bridal-style in his arms. Normally, this would be like carrying a bag of flour, but after his uncharacteristic gorging, James felt more like a sack of potatoes. Or, perhaps, one large sack filled with one very large, round, painfully full potato in the center.

“I’ve never eaten so much in my life…” James whispered as he laid out on the bed. He immediately curled onto his side, holding his stomach in his hands. “I can tell… are you sure you’re okay, babe? You can tell me anything, you know.” “I-I’m fine, honestly… just ate too much.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” A familiar silence crept out of the dark now, cutting into the dim room between them. Finally, James spoke, “Kriss, I just- well, I’m not good at this, I haven’t… been there, like I should have. We’ve been together for a long time now and I still haven’t really… opened up.” Kriss sat down on the bed next to him, looking at the sheets next to James. James reached out, grabbing Kriss by the hand. “I’m sorry. Really. I’ve been too into my job and I want to spend more time with moo-”

He hiccupped, covering his mouth in sudden embarrassment. “You! God, I’ve had cows on the brain lately…”

“You certainly eat like one.” Kriss smiled gently, poking his stomach. “H-Heh… so, uhm,” James said, “Will you give me another chance? To show you the real me… not the work me. Actually me?” Kriss leaned over, brushing the tousled hair out of James’s face. “Of course, sweetpea. You know I’ll give you all the time you need to get back in your own head again. And while you’re still trying…”

Kriss cupped his cheek, and leaned in to plant a little kiss on his soft lips. “Maybe I can do something to keep you motivated.”

“C-Careful, my belly’s still sensitive…!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kriss woke before James-- given his “work early, work late” schedule, this was an uncommon occurrence, but not an unwelcome one. He liked the way James looked peacefully slumbering; it reminded him that he could still stop and relax, that at least he wasn’t hard-wired to run until he dropped. That the hamster wheel didn’t spin forever. He snuggled up closer to his slumbering partner’s back, looping his arm around his side in a gentle embrace. Kriss’s fingers brushed his chest, expecting to feel cool, taut flesh on ribs… instead, his hand touched soft, plush breast.

“H-Huh?” he muttered, startled, his hand recoiling instantly. He knew James, and had never known him to be any more than twiggy at best. Panic rising, he threw off the sheets and flipped on the bedside lamp, exposing the tubby imposter. There, on the bed, was James-- or, at least, he thought it was… same messy black hair, same little blotchy brown birthmark on his shoulder, same pink underwear. This James would have been a perfect replica, if it weren’t for one big thing:

This James was fat.

Well, fat was pushing it, but he definitely had a lot more of it than when he went to bed. His back, once a bony map of shoulder blades and ribs, was now a padded mat of pale pudge, the vaguest hint of love handles forming at his sides. Butt fat pulled his briefs tight, the waistband receding back to squish the tops of his cheeks into two blubbery cupcake tops. His thighs, once slender and toned from his constant jogging around the office building, smooshed together like gently dimpled bags of thick jelly.

“Mmmn?...” he stirred, sitting up. His round face squinted against the harsh light, and he raised a chubby hand to shield himself from it. Kriss’s green eyes darted up to his rounded arm, down to his puffy chest, back up to his cutely dimpled chin, back down to the subtle dome of his belly.

“Kriss?... Oh no, did I oversleep?”

The words clogged in Kriss’s head; what could he say? James was nervous, prone to panic at the slightest change… “You’re… you-” he choked quietly, staring in disbelief. James, following his line of sight to his belly, let out a little yelp of surprise.

“W-What happened to me? I-I didn’t eat that much, did I?...” he stammered, poking the peachy flesh of his abdomen gingerly.

“Impossible…” Kriss whispered, stepping back towards his boyfriend. “Maybe it’s just… water weight? Temporary swelling? Are you allergic to anything?”

Pressing the gentle swell of his arm, it was impossible to think this could just be temporary. “I don’t think so…”

“Well, in any case, I think we should call a doctor.” Kriss said, stepping over to the dresser. “If I can find my phone…”

“Just… use mine.” It took a moment to tear his eyes away from his freshly-plush body long enough to reach for his cell, thumb tapping the home screen. The time-- 5:55 am-- appeared on the screen.

“Oh! No no no, I’m going to be late!”

“James, the doctor-”

“I’ll go after work! I need to get ready; how did I forget the early meeting? I never forget!”

James scrambled to his feet, butt bouncing in his underwear as he bounded into the bathroom, the door shutting quickly behind him. “Kriss, can you find a white shirt for me, please? And my good watch!”

“If they still fit…” Kriss mumbled with a sigh, shuffling to find his clothes. So much for the fast-track relaxation therapy.

‘Give it time,’ he thought, ‘Nobody changes overnight.’

But as he pulled out the obviously too-small button-up from the closet, he suddenly began to doubt these words.

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

James rushed into the office, speed-walking his way through the lobby to the elevator. He barely managed to squeeze by in time for the doors to shut, his belly bumping against the metal as he slipped in.

“Ouch…” he murmured, regarding his sensitive new softness with a little rub. It was only with this did he notice how stressed the buttons were on the shirt, or how a thin sliver of belly fat was drooping out of the bottom. He quickly pulled his pants higher to disguise it, tucking in the shirt like he wasn’t covering for a freak medical condition. Not like it helped much… the fabric was still ungodly tight against his chest, outlining his newly-blossomed moobs like half-filled water balloons in cloth, and similarly highlighted the uncharacteristically pudgy belly beneath. At least his pants had always been a little big for him… they, at least, did a little better at preserving his modesty.

He waited impatiently for the ding, and squeezed through the doors before they’d fully opened, managing to narrowly avoid two coworkers on his way to the meeting room. They said something he didn’t quite hear, but he heard the word “wide”, which was enough to make him flush gently. No time for that, he thought, walking as fast as he could muster with what felt like fifty extra pounds bouncing on his frame. Sweating lightly, he finally arrived at the meeting room, slipping in just before the last coworker. They scoffed at his speedy entrance, but upon seeing his unusually rounded face, decided that it wasn’t worth starting a fight over-- he was clearly suffering enough if he looked like *that* after just one day.

“Well, ladies and gentlemen…” James’s boss began, addressing the crowd. And so it was, James thought, letting the voices around him whisper out into the back of his mind. He’d wait until his name was called, he’d give his report, and then he’d be back to hammering out the numbers until home time. The daily routine… though, there was nothing ‘routine’ about today, as the chair was quick to remind him. Where he used to sit at the edge of the seat, he now filled it out plentifully; so much so that the chair arms touched his sides if he fidgeted an inch or so in either direction. It was an alien feeling, being so plump- he couldn’t even bring himself to say it, but the words hung there in his mind.

Round. Chubby. Soft. Thick. *Fat.*

He grabbed his thigh amidst his anxious ruminating, fingers squishing pliable blubber beneath the trouser fabric. The sensation sent warm, pleasing tingles across his flesh, rumbling deep into his core. It felt… nice?

He scanned the room, making sure nobody could read the feelings passing through his mind and body, but everyone else seemed to be knee-deep in their own happy places too; zoning out to cope was half of the job, after all. A sudden, deep gurgle bubbled in his belly, his hand shooting up to grab at his belly. Where his thigh had been plush, his belly was absolutely pillowy… the silky smooth glob of fat oozed around his fingers where he pressed, sending out another wave of delight across his body. As if to respond to his pressing, another gurgle rumbled against his palm, and he could feel his stomach rising like slow baked dough with his breaths. In, out… warm, soft. He couldn’t help but smile, sucked into the world of squishy comfort. Even as his belly rose in the *out* breath. Even as the chair began to press into his sides ever so softly. Even as the buttons stressed and strained, struggling to keep up with his widening form until-

*PING* The first button on his shirt reflected off a steel mug, snapping everybody out of their stupor with a jolt.

“What was that?” the boss asked. Everybody looked around, but thankfully James’s airy belly was covered by the desk.

“Hmm… well, in any case, that’s the long and short of it.” the boss shrugged, shuffling some papers in his hands. “James, you’re up.”

James looked up, half-lidded in a relaxed daze. “Huh?...”

“Your numbers. You *do* have your report, don’t you?”

Like an apple in a cauldron of caramel, the thought of the report slowly bobbed back to the top of his focus.

“O-Oh, right, yes sir, I uh…”

He reached for his briefcase, grasping at air beneath the desk.

“Is everything alright, James?”

Everybody in the room shuffled, slumped, retreated back to the comfort of the sounds and sights of desert islands and snowy cabins. Meanwhile, he was out in the open, and floundering.

“They’re, uh… late. Late client.” he smiled nervously. The boss looked at him, eyes narrowed in confusion, but simply shook it off.

“Just have them on my desk by tomorrow, okay? Now, who’s next?”

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

Back at his desk, (and with his pants hiked higher than ever) James let out a deep sigh, wincing as his buckle pinched sensitive belly fat.

“Just keep it together, James....” he whispered to himself. He tried to bounce his leg, but found that it just made the rest of him bounce too, and stopped. He logged into his computer with one hand, the other squeezing the stress ball on his desk, but it only reminded him of how much softer he was…

Throwing the ball in the trash can by his foot, he decided his best bet was to focus on his work. Not on the fat ass threatening to blow out the seat of his pants, not on the small overhang his belly would surely be creating if he wore his pants correctly. And not on the strange warmth rushing to his head… just financial information, market watches, and emails.

Five minutes later, and he was still staring at his home screen, unable to bring himself to start working. There was just something at the back of his mind, something creeping up on him; a deep hunger that swelled up inside of him like a consumptive balloon.

“That’s it… just hungry is all…” he assured himself, pushing away from his desk. All he needed was an early lunch, and it would be back to work as usual. Something light…

Before he knew it, he was sitting down at the cafeteria with three hefty cheeseburgers and a heaping plate of thin fries drowned in cheese.

James took a thick, mouth-filling bite of a burger, losing himself in bliss.

“Mmf, so good…” he moaned to himself, prompting a blushing intern to speedwalk to the exit. One hefty gulp down, he sucked down a glob of sugary vanilla milkshake, chasing it with a handful of fries and another bite of burger. Not only did it chip away at the hunger, but his worry too. Suddenly he felt okay; eating like this felt *right*. He absentmindedly rubbed his belly, the gentle touch enough to rip away another button and rub cheese onto his shirt. He didn’t care; why should he? The belly beneath his hand was soft, fat, and jiggly, and it was fun to pat and wobble. And the more he ate, the more he was able to wobble it. One burger down-- and another button popped-- he felt twice as comfortable. Arm fat billowed out in his shirt, small rips forming that pushed dollops of fat through. Pant fibre finally reached capacity, pulling back from his pudgy calves as his thighs claimed ever more real estate within them. Fingers and toes chubbed into cute little sausages. Wrists, ankles, and neck slowly became less defined. Cheeks chubbed, chin flubbed; his masculinity was smudged by the heaps of fat, androgyny taking the wheel.

But still he munched, a happy grin on his face as he grazed the haystack of fries. The warm feeling in his head turned hot, two points burning the warmest… but two points on his chest gained his attention the most. His chest-- rather, his breasts-- ached terribly, prompting a whine from the freshly cherubic gentleman. Pudgy fingers pawed at the last button left on his shirt, but it was simply too tight to be undone. Instead, he opted to just rub at his moobs beneath the fabric, gulping his shake heartily. Finally, the button popped, and he let out a sigh of relief as his fat breasts plapped onto his belly. The sudden motion forced milk out of the little pink nipples in small rivulets, drops running down the curve of the swollen mounds and dripping onto his belly.

“G-Guh…” he groaned, scooping the last of the food into his maw just as his belt buckle burst off. He was exhausted, but sated… for now. Already, his mind was feeling clearer, and already he was starting to regret the sudden gorging… he was huge! And was that… milk?! “Sir, if you’re going to be in here, you need to put on some clothes-”

The security guard looked taken aback as James turned and unsteadily rose, his pants open and his shirt hanging free. His ass fat rose behind him like two fat pumpkins squeezed into a pair of briefs, rising up with plentiful flesh visible.

“A-Are you okay?...”

James huffed, wobbling on his feet as he attempted to center himself. “I’m- *bruuuarp* o-oh, sorry…”

The guard just stood, watching him slowly lumber out of the cafeteria and off towards the elevator.

“They don’t pay me enough for this…”

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

The slow drive was filled with a quiet anxiety, wondering if Kriss was right: what if he had just gone to the doctor in the first place? Why didn’t he just go to a real hospital to see why he was dripping milk all over the upholstery? That was it, though. He knew why he was like this… where else could it have come from?

Doctor Sweet.

Sweat dripped from his apron of a belly as he squeezed in through the front door. The receptionist simply buzzed him through, and he waddled straight into the pastoral office.

“Aha, James! Right on schedule. Please, have a seat.”

James panted heavily, taking the time to rest on the doorway before he entered.

“What… did you do?” he huffed, continuing on towards the desk. “Look at me! This… has to be some kind of reaction… to that medicine!”

The doctor smiled, unfazed by his bloated appearance. “I’ll say. I’d be more than willing to explain it, if you’d just have a seat.”

James stopped, the exhaustion he felt quickly overtaking his urges towards aggression. “F-Fine…”

The massive boy collapsed in the seat like a falling boulder, nearly taking up the whole couch with his bulk.

“Excellent. Now then… you said there was a reaction, yes?”

James gestured to his body.

“So… chills, fever…?”

“I’m fat! I’m huge! I’m… l-leaking!” he burst out, wobbling in anger. Try as he might to seem imposing, he felt like a bowl of pudding.

“Oh. Oh dear, I see the problem… you must’ve skipped the waiver.” Dr. Sweet sighed, shaking his head. “Well, too late for take backs now, I’m afraid.”

James put his hands on his belly in worry. “W-What do you mean?”

“Well, if you’d read the waiver… you’d see that this therapy involves a permanent genetic alteration.”

“G-Genetic?...”

“Yes. We force a mutation-- I won’t get too deep into it now, there’s really no use-- to shave off the rough edges, essentially. I felt it would be important in your case to emphasize the potential for softness, and it seems your body agreed. Surround yourself with soft, and become soft.”

“That… that’s-” James struggled, trailing away quietly.

The doctor continued. “You see, I was like you at a time. Angry, frustrated, stressed, upset at life… but my time as a dairy worker gave me new insight. Being surrounded by gentle docility at all hours of the day taught me to be gentle and caring myself. But this process took years... once I started in medicine, I spent endless hours trying to find how to distill this process into a formula, to turn the experience into a chemical.”

James watched him with confusion, hands gently kneading his fat to keep himself calm.

“Well, I discovered it alright. It’s a bit unwieldy, but with a little guided thinking, it works wonders. Really brings the farm experience home, wouldn't you agree?”

James looked down at his belly, at his nipples streaming milk onto his bellybutton. “Y-You’re saying I’m turning into…”

“A cow, yes. You’re well on your way, in fact. Here, take a look.”

The doctor withdrew a handheld mirror from his desk, and held it up for James to see. He felt like he was staring into a barber mirror, only instead of finding himself with a new haircut, it was fuzzy cow ears and a set of tiny, nubby horns on his head. And somehow, it didn’t feel wrong… in fact, he felt pretty cute.

“Oh… woah…” he murmured, poking the ear gently.

“See? Nothing to worry about! And just as stated in the forms, you’ll be paid a weekly sum for participating in this new therapy. I doubt a cow would be acceptable in an office building, aha.”

James patted his cheeks, a smile forming on his face.

“And if you’ll allow me…”

The doctor set down the mirror, and withdrew a familiar milky white bottle.

“...I’d like to finish what we started.”

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

Kriss waited in the kitchen, checking his watch every few minutes, waiting for James to get off of work so he could take him to the hospital. He shouldn’t have even let him go to work… what if he was more sick than he thought? What if it wasn’t just swelling? What if-

*Thud* The front door shut, and Kriss sprang up from his chair, scrambling into the living room.

“James-”

The breath caught in his chest as he took in the full scope of his boyfriend. The 200-and-change chubster who had left that morning had blossomed into a wide, easily 600 lb. wall of blubber. He stared up at his polished, nubby horns, at his furry ears, down at his absolutely shirt-shredding tits… blood rushed into his face so fast he stumbled, nearly falling forward.

“Oh no, are you okay?” James asked, bright blue eyes full of worry. He waddled forward, belly rippling against the front of each knee as he slowly walked like he was wading through waist-high waters. His chest swayed back and forth, barely contained by a tiny stretched-out tee. Despite being more than three inches taller than him, Kriss suddenly found himself pressed face first into warm boy cleavage, peachy flesh enveloping him. James’s flabby, pillowy arms pressed around his back as he cuddled him in an embrace.

“What… happened?” he breathed, head spinning as he tried to process the changes in his boyfriend.

“O-Oh! Right… it’s part of the therapy! Dr. Sweet made me into a big cuddly cow, and I really like it!” he smiled, clasping his chubby hands together. “Though, we may need to get some new clothes… these shorts are kinda tight on my butt.”

For added emphasis, he slowly turned around, revealing the skin-tight shorts had all but retreated into his huge, bare ass, the rolls of his back flab sagging down to nearly meet the top of them.

“A-Aha... “ Kriss said, woozy once more. He clutched the wall to keep from falling over.

“Do… do you not like it?” James asked, timidly pushing his fat thighs together. His ears twitched gently, sending an arrow straight through Kriss’s heart.

“When I read the waiver, I didn’t expect it to be like, well… all of this. Babe… you’re so adorable my head is going to explode. ”

A happy smile brightened his face once more, and James let out a little laugh. “G-Gosh, don’t scare me like that!”

Headrush fleeting, Kriss managed to push off the wall and back into the arms of his lover. He pecked at his blubbery neck, giving him gentle kisses up and across his cheek.

“O-Ooh, these are nice…” Kriss murmured, squeezing his arms around his chest. “You’re like a big stress ball, I love it.”

“H-Hey, careful, they’re still a little full…”

Kriss moved in for a kiss on the lips, pulling away to give his chest another little squeeze. “Full? Like… with milk?”

James nodded. “You’ll have to milk me until the pump arrives, otherwise they’ll get too full and I’ll start to ache… that is, if you want to. I can still just go to the clinic-”

Kriss tugged at his shirt, freeing one of his blubbery boobs. His thumb traced the nipple gently, practically melting James into a puddle.

“A-Ah, god, have you done this before?...”

“No…” Kriss said, bringing the breast to his mouth. Sweet, creamy milk flowed onto his tongue, which he swallowed down. “But I can learn.”

#male weight gain #fat male #male lactation #ssbhm #boycow #moo

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pricefieldchaos · 4 years

Text

Matthew x Lucie: “The curves of your lips rewrite history”

I wrote and posted this on AO3, as my Fairondale heart ached because of the lack of content, and this is how it turned out. By the way, I'll leave my AO3 profile here, if you want to check out my other OS and stay tuned for new ones! thelastwriter. Enjoy and maybe let me know what you think, I appreciate it a lot!

It was a beautiful spring Sunday and Lucie Herondale was in the London Institute’s backyard, sitting on the grass and enjoying the warm sunlight while writing a new chapter for her latest story. The air smelled like fresh flowers and the birds were singing and flying from one tree to another. Lucie was feeling super relaxed and incredibly inspired, it was the perfect day to add some new action to her novel. The warm breeze caressed her soft uncovered skin on her arms and shoulders, where the brown waves of her loose hair slightly tickled her.

Matthew Fairchild was laying right beside her, his gaze fixed on the clear sky. It was not unusual to see him hanging around the Institute, since the Fairchilds and the Herondales were great friends and Matthew was often there to train with his parabatai, James Herondale, and to spend some time with him and his sister, Lucie. Earlier that morning, he had spotted her getting ready to go outside and had immediately asked if he could join; Lucie had been surprised by him wanting to spend some time alone with her, she had always thought the reason why he enjoyed being with her was because her brother was there, too. She had been happy to see that, maybe, she had been wrong all this time.

Matthew turned around to look at the young girl on his right: she was wearing a lovely light blue dress, and a ribbon of the same colour adorned her hair. She had taken off her white lace gloves – she found it way easier to write without them on – and Matthew was watching her delicate hands move swiftly along the paper. He was glad she was so focused on her papers, because that way she wouldn’t notice the smitten look that was all over his face. His heart had jumped into his chest when she had agreed to let him go with her, he had been dying to get the chance to be alone with her for so long.

“What scene are you writing now?” he asked. Lucie was slightly startled by that sudden question – she had been so focused on her work that she had almost forgotten that he was there with her. She turned to look at him, his blonde locks were sprawled on the grass and his dark green eyes were now looking directly into her blue ones. The buttons of his white shirt were half-done under his golden vest, and his blue necktie was loose. His warm smile made her cheeks flush, and for a moment there she almost forgot about his question.

“Oh, right” she sighed. “So, princess Lucinda just figured out her feelings for prince Martin, but she won’t go tell him already because, despite his latest declaration of love, she is still afraid of getting her heart broken.”

“I think it is quite foolish” he answered. “Why is she afraid, if you said that he returns her feelings?”

“Sometimes, reciprocating the other’s feelings is not enough” she explained, letting out a sigh. “Countless things can come between a potential love story and make it so that it never sees the light.”

“How dramatic” he laughed.

“It is true, Math!” she scolded him, throwing an elbow at him playfully. “Also” she continued “she is afraid of giving in to perilous… temptations. The young man in question is quite the charmer.”

He smirked. “I thought that, by now, you too had learnt that the only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it.”

“You will never grow weary of quoting your beloved Oscar Wilde, will you?” Lucie giggled. “And by the way, it would be very improper of her! It could ruin her reputation.”

“I am sure I will not, my dear” he grinned. “As for your story, I still think it is foolish of her not to act on her feelings. Most importantly, it is your story – you are the one who gets to decide whether something is improper or not. And, as far as I am concerned, reputation is an overrated concept, and people should spend way less time worrying over it.” He winked at her.

Lucie let out another sigh. “Well, I guess that is not the only reason I am reluctant to let her go to him. If she does, I will need to write a memorable scene – I am talking about a grand gesture and the finest romantic speeches, and then it will be inevitable for them… to kiss.”

Matthew widened his eyes, agreeing. “They most certainly need to do it!”

“Yeah… that kind of is the real problem” said Lucie, shyly.

“Why would it be?” he asked.

“I… okay, I will tell you. The thing is, my kissing scenes are dreadful! I cannot write them properly, I cannot even get them right by reading them in other books. And, of course, I cannot take my personal experience as an example.” She looked down, too embarrassed to look at her childhood friend in the eyes while discussing such matters with him, especially since they were alone out there, unchaperoned and all that.

“Are you telling me the beautiful, sweet Lu has not been kissed yet?” Matthew said, lifting himself up from the ground so that he could sit in front of her. He knew he had started playing with fire by asking that uneasy question, but he also knew he wouldn’t care if he got burnt.

Lucie’s cheeks turned completely red, but she answered, still not looking at him in the eyes, “I-I did not get the chance – no fine young man has courted me, yet.”

“That is a pity” Matthew said, “and such a waste” he added. "But perhaps I could still help you with that kissing scene?” He moved closer to her, so that their knees were almost touching. At this point, he was so nervous he had started sweating and slightly trembling. What if he had pushed too far? What if she thought that he was being inappropriate, and that would ruin their friendship? These thoughts were interrupted by her asking him another question.

“And, tell me, how would you do that?” Lucie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I could kiss you” he said, blatantly. “That is, of course, if you will allow me.” By daring to suggest that, he had definitely reached the point of no return.

If possible, Lucie blushed even more, and Matthew noticed, and a slight smirk appeared on his face.

“You are an indecent scoundrel” Lucie laughed. “Suggesting we engage ourselves in such a scandalous activity here, out in the open, where any member of my family could catch us any minute.” Her playful tone made him breathe a sigh of relief, she didn’t seem offended or anything – instead she had started teasing him in turn.

“You are not turning down the offer, though” Matthew grinned, then his expression turned serious. He couldn’t let her think this was just a game to him. “But I understand if you will. You must want your first kiss to be perfect.”

“I actually do.” Lucie remained silent for a couple seconds; then she spoke again. “Do you think that you can live up to my expectations?” she teased him again.

“There is only one way we can know” it was his only answer. Lucie gently tossed her papers and pen on the grass beside her, then looked at Matthew, meeting his gaze. She felt her skin burn from the anticipation. Was she really going to finally have her first kiss?

Matthew’s heart started beating so fast he almost thought it was going to burst anytime. He looked into Lucie’s beautiful blue eyes, who were staring at him, both questioning and excited. Neither of them said another word, as Matthew moved his face closer to hers, until they were just a few inches apart, and then he lightly brushed his lips against hers. “You may want to close your eyes” he whispered. She giggled, and then did so, and he finally locked lips with her, firmly, and placed an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She quietly gasped as she run her fingers through his soft hair.

Matthew began to wonder if he was dreaming – he was kissing her, at last. He couldn’t remember the first time he had thought about how much he wanted to do that, it was too long ago. But this was no dream: Lucie’s lips felt so real and soft and warm against his, her delicate scent and sweet taste were intoxicating him, it was better than anything Matthew had ever tasted in his whole life. He started moving his mouth on hers, getting the shivers every time that she let out a soft moan against his lips. Lucie took him by surprise when she bit his lower lip, but she could definitely tell that he had liked it a lot, because he deepened the kiss and then gently pushed her onto her back and leaned down, never letting go of her.

He moved his lips to her neck and then lower onto the neckline of her dress, but quickly returned to her mouth before he could no longer be able to stop. He prayed the Angel to forgive him for the thoughts that had taken over his mind. He wondered what she was thinking.

Lucie was completely lost in Matthew’s touch, kisses, sighs. She would have never imagined her first kiss to be this… incredible. That probably was the right word to describe what she was feeling, at least partly – she actually was, for the first time, unable to put something into words.

They went on kissing for another handful of minutes, giggling every now and then and enjoying the taste of each other's lips, and the feeling of their intertwined fingers and light caresses. Eventually, he broke the kiss, breathless, and helped her sit up again. He gently stroked her cheek with his hand. He was unsure whether his lack of breath was due to the kiss or to her unmeasurable beauty. Probably both, he thought. “Woah…” he mumbled, smiling.

Lucie adjusted her hair, retying her ribbon while she regained her breath. “So, how did you like it?” she bluntly asked.

Matthew laughed, and just said, “The curves of your lips rewrite history, my Lu” quoting Oscar Wilde again and receiving an eye roll from Lucie as an answer. “Did you like it?” he asked in turn.

“It was wonderful!” she exclaimed. “Now I totally know how to write a kissing scene! Thank you, Math” she said cheerfully. That most likely was not the only reason why she was so happy about what had just happened, but in that moment she was too eager to write every single detail down in her notebook to think about it. She placed a kiss on Matthew’s cheek, then quickly retrieved her pen and papers from the ground and went back into her own world, frantically writing down notes in order not to forget anything.

This time, Matthew was the one to blush.

#matthew and lucie #Matthew Fairchild #lucie herondale #thelasthours #shadowhunters #mucie #fairondale #matthew x lucie

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shawnmndes · 4 years

Text

my forever

— blurb ; shawn mendes x reader ; college au

— word count: 1k

— author’s note: my day-late contribution to @kerwritesthings’ fic rec friday! i wanted to pull together a few drabbles, but this ended up stretching a little longer than i expected lmao so hopefully i’ll be able to finish the others over the course of a few days. please go easy, this definitely isn’t my best work and my writing’s been a little stiff lately (plus it’s unedited lol) but hopefully this is somewhat enjoyable!

Shawn settles his head on your chest, eyes fluttering shut as his curls fall across your body. The sunset’s vibrant on the horizon, and you’re reading from the book that Shawn picked out as your fingers run through his hair. It’s cheesy, sure, but this is infinitely better than any party or bar you could’ve gone to. Ever since senior year of college started, you and Shawn have barely had a second to breathe, between assignments, work, and your respective social lives, so you’ve missed evenings like these where there are no expectations, no business to attend to. And you’re glad you get to spend tonight with your boyfriend, escape to your own little bubble before you’re snapped back to reality tomorrow morning.

The courtyard’s quiet. You’re leaning against a tree in the grass, and Shawn’s stretching his legs out, chest rising and falling steadily as he breathes. For a second, everything’s so still and peaceful that you let out a large yawn, and Shawn gives you a teasing grin, opening his eyes.

“Tired?” he asks, and you shrug. “You went to bed so late last night.”

“I had to finish that history assignment.” You roll your eyes. “I’m so ready to be done with that class.”

Shawn lets out a light laugh, and you let your eyes wander down to where he’s laying. His tank top falls loosely over his shoulders, and his broad hands are clasped together across his stomach. At your gaze, he reaches over to grab one of your hands, twining his fingers through your own and kissing the back of your hand. It’s in that moment that you can practically feel your heart swelling with adoration and fondness and affection, because you’re more in love with this man than you ever thought could be possible.

You’re together now, but your love story is altogether unconventional. You met when you were sophomores, and you can vividly remember the way you hated him — looking back, it seems petty and foolish, but your roommate had adamantly warned you about associating yourself with Shawn, and you didn’t exactly run with his crowd. You’d grown closer, though, and when Shawn finally asked you out on an official date, the rest was history. Ever since, you’ve been Y/N and Shawn — an irreplaceable pair — and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Shawn sits up slowly and leans against the tree next to you, one arm falling around your shoulders as he hums softly. You rest your head against him, eyes flickering to the sky, where stars are just becoming visible. “Did you ever look for constellations when you were a kid?”

Shawn snorts, eyeing you with a smirk. “Definitely not, I was your typical kid. Pretty sure the only things I cared about were hockey and video games.”

“And your guitar,” you fill in, and he nods. Shawn and his guitar are practically attached at the hip — even though he doesn’t have a career playing music, you know how much of an influential part of his life it’s been ever since he was a teenager, and you can’t imagine him as someone who doesn’t play.

Shawn’s squinting upwards now, trying to find recognizable shapes in the faint stars that dot the sky. “I still don’t get how people see things in them. I can’t even figure out where to look.”

Following his gaze, you point to a cluster of stars that’s slightly brighter than all the others. “Those kind of look like a triangle.”

Shawn stares down at you for a beat. “They all look like triangles.”

“Yeah, but that one especially.” Your eyes flicker to Shawn’s, whose are filled with laughter and mirth. He presses a kiss to your lips, and you smile into his touch.

Maybe minutes pass, or maybe it’s hours, but either way, you fall into an easy silence as Shawn traces patterns into your palm and you listen to his breathing and the rustles of the wind in the grass. Being with him feels natural, simple, and he makes it easy to forget about everything else. You’ve practically fallen asleep when Shawn rests his chin on top of your head. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Your breath hitches slightly, and you tilt your head up to look at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He looks thoughtful, and he absent-mindedly plays with your fingers as he searches for the right words. “I know we’ve said I love you before, but this is different, you know? You’re my favorite person, the one I never wanna walk away from. It’s like I’m addicted.” He nudges you as he glances down at you again, and there’s a smile ghosting his lips as he speaks. “And I keep trying to figure out where I’m supposed to call home, but I finally realized it’s you. As long as I’m with you, I’m where I’m supposed to be.”

“You’re so cheesy,” you murmur softly, but there’s a warmth in your chest and your heart is pounding as you find his eyes. “I’m in love with you too, Mendes.”

“Yeah?” He can’t stop smiling, and the way his lips keep turning up bashfully is maybe the most endearing thing ever. And then he’s kissing you, and it’s just like the first time and all the times after that, because it’s perfect. You tangle your hands in his curls, and he pulls you into his lap.

“I never want us to end.” Your tone’s genuine yet solemn, and he lets out a breathless grin before capturing your lips with his again.

It’s a few minutes later when you’re laying on his chest and his fingers are stroking your hair gently that he finally says, “We’re never going to end.”

“How do you know?” you whisper, and if Shawn weren’t so close to you, your words would have been lost to the wind. He hears you, though, and he gives you that adoring look that you’ll never get tired of.

“I just do,” he tells you matter-of-factly, breath tickling your skin. His heart’s pounding in his chest, and you know your own is just as loud, but Shawn’s voice is steady while he speaks.

“You’re my forever. I’m sure of it.”

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queenofspades20 · 4 years

Text

Bloodbath & Beyond 2/3

Synopsis: Loki is the original vampire. He has grown bored with the women he’s been with over the centuries. That all changes one day when he takes a second look at Y/N, the owner of a bar. Inspired by the song Bloodbath & Beyond by Ice Nine Kills.

Loki x reader

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: Some fluff, slight angst

Decided to make this a 3 chapter story. Ended on a bit of a cliffhanger. I think I know where I’m going with this story but I might change my mind. We’ll see what happens.

CHAPTER 2 – The Date

Y/N struggled to figure out what to wear for her date with Loki. Because it was a casual date, she didn’t want to overdress. After much deliberation, she settled on some skinny jeans, booties, and a light sweater. She made her way to the bar a few minutes behind schedule. When she walked in, she saw Loki sitting at a stool at the far end of the bar. As she neared his seat, his face lit up in a smile.

“I was beginning to think you might not show up,” he said as Y/N slid onto the stool next to him.

“It’s a few minutes. No need to be dramatic.” Y/N made eye contact with the bartender and signaled for her usual.

Loki huffed. “I’m not dramatic.”

“Sure. Whatever you say,” she said with a laugh.

Loki found himself drawn to her smile and vowed to make her smile more. As the bartender set two glasses of bourbon in front of them, Loki leaned forward. With his lips near her ear, he whispered, “you look very beautiful tonight.”

Y/N smiled at Loki. “You look quite handsome yourself.”

Loki sat back on the stool. He felt an urge to pull Y/N into his arms, but knew that it would be considered too forward of him. He settled for resting his hand on the back of her stool. Y/N leaned into his touch slightly.

“So, tell me Loki. You never did answer my question last night. What is it you are looking for from me?” Y/N said with a lift of her eyebrow. She took a sip of her bourbon.

“I want to get to know you. I like your directness. I think you are quite beautiful. I find myself in a position I have not been in for a very long time, if ever.”

“What position?”

“Being interested in more than a quick evening. I want to know everything about you.”

Y/N looked thoughtful as she finished her drink. “Fair enough. So, wanting to know everything is kind of broad. Is there something specific you’d like to know first?”

“How did you end up with this bar?”

“I spent some years traveling, working at odd bars around the country. I like the industry and I wanted to spend time in different areas to see what makes a successful bar. I knew from around 13 years told that I wanted a place like this. I was so eager that I even came up with a sort-of business plan of what I wanted.”

“Is this place like you designed?”

“Nope. It’s better. At 13, I wanted a place that was more nightclub than bar. But I found of the places I worked in, the dive bars were the best. People seem to like having a chill place to go for a drink, but they can dress up and dance if they want too. I designed this place to feel like the best parts of a dive bar and swanky club.”

“You did a wonderful job. I have to say, in all my travels, I have never found a place quite like this. It’s probably why I come here so often.”

Y/N smiled. “I’m glad my design makes sense to at least one person. I saved up as much as I could. I had an insane number of roommates for years. I’m happy I’m at the point where I can live on my own and have this place. For awhile, I was living in my office.”

“That’d dedication.”

“Well, I mean, a pullout couch was all I needed for a bed and I have a full bathroom in the breakroom. You never know what will happen during a shift and there were times where I wished I could shower at work to get spilled beer off me, so it just worked out for my design. It wasn’t much of a hardship. This place is pretty great.”

Loki finished his drink. He stood up and held his hand out. “Would you like to go for our walk?”

Y/N placed her hand in Loki’s. His hand, while not freezing, was definitely on the cooler side. “I would love to.”

As they walked outside, they decided to head in the direction of a local park that was a few blocks away. The park was open at night to allow for stargazers. There was some light but there were plenty of spots to look up at the stars without trouble. They walked hand in hand, just chatting about whatever topic came to mind. They found a spot and sat down in the grass.

“I’ve always liked this park,” Y/N said, looking up at the sky. “It’s nice to come here during breaks early in the night.”

“You don’t come here late?”

“I’m a female. Of course I don’t. Nothing good ever happens after 2am.”

“Nothing? I can think of a few things,” Loki said with a leer.

Y/N turned and stared at him with her eyebrow raised. “Seriously? We were having a good time.”

Loki chuckled. “I was curious to see how you would react.” He nudged her shoulder with his. “I do not wish to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry if I did.”

“We’re good, but no dirty talk until after the first date is over and we decide if we want to see each other again.”

“Well, I already know I would love to see you again. I have not felt this connected to someone in a very long time.”

Y/N smiled. “Well, I would love to see you again as well.” Y/N took Loki’s hand in hers. “Maybe you’ll explain to me why your hands are always so cold.”

Loki coughed to loosen the knot he felt grow in his chest. “You caught me, I’m a vampire.”

Y/N laughed. “You don’t have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Loki stayed silent for a few moments. Y/N worried that she made a mistake. “I’m sorry if I touched on a sore spot. You really don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to. I want you to know everything about me, but I’m also worried you won’t want anything to do with me if you know the truth.”

Y/N linked her arm through Loki’s and moved herself closer to him. She rested her chin on his shoulder. “Between owning a bar and working in some of the most shady places known to man, I’m not easily scared away. I want you to be honest with me.”

Loki looked into her eyes and made a decision. He smiled showing his teeth. His fangs were clearly visible. “I am a vampire. I was turned in the 1600s in Norway. I have a brother, Thor.”

“Were you named after the Norwegian gods or were the Norwegian gods named after you? I literally know nothing about Norway or its religious history, so genuinely curious.”

Loki stared incredulously at Y/N. “Are you not scared of me? I reveal I’m a vampire and you ask how I got my name?”

“Well, I figure if you were going to hurt me, you would’ve done it by now. Though I’ll admit, I really am confused as to why you are interested in me and curious as to what you want from me.”

“You are different from any woman I’ve ever met. I truly enjoy your company. I meant it when I said I feel a connection to you. You’re smart, beautiful, and you have the sharpest wit. What I want from you is a relationship.”

“Can I think about it? I mean, even though we’ve known each other for a while, it wasn’t really in any meaningful way until tonight. And you being a vampire is a lot to take in.”

“Of course. I do not wish to pressure you, I just ask that you don’t tell anyone of my true nature.”

“Yeah, cause people would believe me anyways,” Y/N deadpanned. “No, I will not tell people. It’s not my information to tell and I don’t need people thinking I’m crazy.”

“Thank you, pet.”

Loki stood up and reached his hand out to Y/N. “May I walk you back to the bar or to your home?”

Y/N reached out and took ahold of his hand. He helped her and she brushed off the back of her pants. “Thanks. We can go back to my home. I mean, you already know where I live, so it’s not like it’s going to do any harm for you to walk me home.”

Y/N and Loki walked in silence. As they reached her door, Y/N turned to him. “Give me three days. I’ll meet you at my bar at 10pm and give you my decision. I know we only had one date and that’s not usually much, but I think it’s enough for me to figure out what I want.”

“I think that’s more than fair. I shall await your decision in three days’ time.” Loki took ahold of Y/N’s hand and pulled it towards his lips. He gently brushed his mouth against her knuckles.

Y/N felt her face heat up. She definitely felt an attraction to him and she would normally jump at the chance to date someone like him. However, the whole vampire thing definitely gave her pause. “Goodnight, Loki. I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Goodnight, my pet.” Loki walked away, fearful that tonight was the last night he would get to be in her company.

#loki x reader #vampire!loki x reader #vampire!Loki

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lveclouds · 4 years

Text

a/n: this is a drabble that i’ve been wanting to write for a while,but kept putting it off because of school haha but now that i’m in quarantine, i can finally write this!

genre: fluff, non idol au

rating: g (for all audiences)

pairing: jjk x tattoo artist reader

word count: 1k+

you’d had many customers walk in and out of your shop, some young, some old, and even some poor souls who had been dared by their friends to get a tattoo. but you never expected jeon jungkook to visit your store, in fact, not even in a million years. he was the quite and shy boy who sat in the back of your history class, listening attentively to the teacher, doe eyes bright with curiosity and interest. most of your classmates thought he was a nerd,but you saw him as someone who was genuinely interested in the class, which you found to be quite adorable. however, you never spoke a single word to him, as you were always dragged away by your friends whenever you attempted to start a conversation with him, and you regretted not resisting. in fact, you thought you would never see him again after you graduated.

becoming a tattoo artist was always something you dreamed of, even as a little kid. you would draw little doodles on your body, smiling proudly at the designs you created. and, for your eleventh birthday, your parents gifted you a sketchpad, so that you could properly draw your ideas out. that sketchpad never left your side, even when you were a senior, and it was still with you to this day, sitting on your desk in your tiny apartment, corners of the pages yellowing with age. the sketchpad was where you drew out ideas for future tattoos and when inspiration struck, it would be the first thing you would grab.

on the day jeon jungkook walked in, you were feeling a bit drained, due to the heavy onslaught of customers that had visited the store prior to his visit. however, as soon as jungkook walked through the door, causing the bells hanging overhead to softly jingle, you felt all exhaustion leave you. suddenly, you found yourself doing a bit of a double take. the boy, no, the man standing in front of you couldn’t be the same jeon jungkook from high school, the boy who adored history and looked as intimidating as a baby bunny. his eyes were the still the same, big and doe-like and bright with curiosity. they were also a deep shade of hazel that you hadn’t noticed before. puberty had definitely treated him well, you thought, hiding the blush that was threatening to form on your face. jungkook was now a good two inches taller than you, with soft, raven hair that fell into his eyes, perfect eyebrows and nose, a sharp jawline, and despite the oversized black shirt he was wearing, you could still see the breadth and broadness of his chest through the fabric. his lips looked so soft and kissable, and you mentally slapped yourself for almost thinking of what it would be like to kiss them. you tried not to stare as he neared the counter, fiddling with the thin silver ring on his left index finger, humming softly. “can i help you?” you asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. he jumped a bit, clearly surprised at the sudden question, but quickly recovered with a small smile. “yes,um, i-i’d like to get a tattoo.” you ignored the shiver that went up your spine at the sound of his deep yet soft voice, and smiled brightly. “well, you’ve come to the right place. do you have a particular design in mind?”jungkook seemed to brighten at the question. “yes, i do, actually. i-if that’s ok.” “of course! makes my job a bit easier.” you said with a wink, causing a light shade of pink to settle across his cheekbones. “so, what did you have in mind?” “i’ve always wanted to get my birth flower tattooed. i-i know it’s kinda lame but-” “it’s not lame at all, i think it’s beautiful that you want to get that tattooed. so, what’s your birth flower?” “it’s a tiger lily. here, let me show you a picture.” he dug into the pocket of his loose, gray pants and pulled out his phone. after a few minutes, he turned the device around, showing you a picture of a vibrant, orange tiger lily flower, a splash of color against the green grass in the background. “it’s beautiful, and i can definitely tattoo this on you. just sign this form, and then we’ll get started.” you handed the loose, sheet of paper and a pen once he had pocketed his phone, and then walked away to wash your hands and put on a pair of gloves.

moments later, jungkook was seated in a chair, arms at his sides, trying his best not to fidget as you tattooed the tiger lily onto his forearm. he’d also made the request to add the words “please love me” behind it, and you were trying your best to blush at your close proximity. “so, this is where you ended up after high school, huh?” your blush deepened. “yeah, i’ve always wanted to become a tattoo artist, and well, here i am. what have you been up to?” “well, after high school, i decided that i wanted to pursue art, and after a while, i was actually able to get my own studio.” you smiled. jungkook had been one of the most talented artists at school, so you weren’t the least bit surprised about where he ended up.“oh, so do you sell your paintings or drawings? or do you just create for fun?” “honestly, i haven’t really thought about making money off them. i just use my studio to create things, just for fun, like you said.” you hummed in acknowledgement, putting the finishing touches on his tattoo. “do you like it?” you asked as you were putting away your tools. jungkook looked down at the new tattoo gracing his skin, a satisfied smile gracing his features. “i love it, thank you so much.” you beamed. “i’m glad you like it.”

just before jungkook left, he gently grabbed your hand and jotted something down on the back of it. “call me. i’d love to catch up on things, maybe over coffee?” he asked shyly, a light blush settling across his cheekbones. you smiled and allowed yourself an amused laugh at how shy he was being. “i’d love to, jungkook. it was nice seeing you, by the way.” “it was nice seeing you, too. i’ll see you later?” you nodded, ignoring the fluttering feeling in your stomach at the prospect of seeing jungkook again. “see you. And with one last dazzling smile and a wink, jungkook was gone, taking your heart along with him. damn it jeon jungkook, you thought. you really know how to charm people, huh?

a/n: i hope you all like this!! this took me a while to write but it was worth it!

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