#I was wondering if I should wait and answer this but since I missed the first ask I feel bad for delaying answering this one

[garbinge]

The Original Swiftie Of Chicagoland

Richie Jerimovich x F!Reader Continuation of this story. 30 Day Fic Challenge

Word Count: 2.6k words A/N: Back at it with everyone's favorite <3 This is a little more cutesy-cringe kick your feet and giggle than I usually write but I hope you all still enjoy!! Also please be kind, I have not attended the eras tour so there might be inconsistencies there!

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content.

The Bear Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @quixscentsposts @dadbodfanatic-x @adorable-punk-superheroes @lodeddiperrodrick @isalver @captainweasleybarnes @musicwithteeth @fancyvoidtragedy @shinebright2000 @knight4xmas @gills-lounge @navs-bhat @cosmicak (have been a bit inactive on tumblr so this might not be up to date, if you'd like to be added to my The Bear taglist please shoot me a message!)

Richie’s voice was like a morning alarm to you as he spoke up in the car. You had began to doze off a few minutes ago, as you came to it you recalled the last thing you remember talking about. 

“What’s your favorite Taylor Swift song?” You had asked Eva as you all waited in the drop off line. 

“Enchanted.” Her answer was quick but not as quick as her follow up. “Taylor’s Version.” 

“Always TV.” You leaned back in your seat when she answered, your hand extending out to turn the radio up slightly since there was a Taylor mix currently going. 

“My Dad’s taking me to go see her, at the Era’s tour. I’m making friendship bracelets at school, too.” 

“That’s going to be so much fun.” You meant what you said but you felt the sleep starting to fade over your eyes. It had been a late one the night before, you were up searching for those cards for your dad and one thing turned into another and suddenly your entire apartment looked like it threw up boxes and memories. 

When Richie texted to see if you were up and wanted a ride to the restaurant, it felt silly to say no despite the complete lack of sleep you were running on. 

It was now that Richie’s voice was alerting you awake. “Sorry I think I fell asleep.” 

“You did, I brought you back home.” He was pointing over to your apartment building. “You’re shot, ain’t no way you’re gonna help tear down walls today.” 

“Tear down walls?” You questioned, when you offered to help today you thought it’d be painting or planning, not demolition. 

“Yea there was a raccoon, and then the pipe with the thing, so it’s all gotta come down.” 

“You miss one day and you miss everything.” Your hands were rubbing your eyes until they waved him off. “I’m fine, I can help Nat with something.” 

“Humor me.” Richie’s eyes closed in a tad bit of frustration. “How bout I come pick you up later in the afternoon.” 

“Only if you bring me whatever Syd’s making for lunch.” You were starting to grab your things when Richie stopped you. 

“Um, real quick.” You could tell he was feeling weird about something, he was stumbling a little bit on the few words that he was speaking which wasn’t like him with you. 

“What’s up?” You fell back against the passenger seat, your head leaning to the left to stare at him.

“Sorry, I should just ask you later.” He shook his head, and turned to put his car back on so he could leave. 

“Ask me now.” You smiled. 

“Nah it’s fine.” He couldn’t make eye contact with you. 

“Richie, I won’t be able to sleep if you don’t tell me.” The fake seriousness washed over you and that made Richie look over at you and sigh in defeat. 

“You know how Eva mentioned that Errors Tour.” 

“Eras.” You corrected him with a smirk. “Yes, I do.” 

“Yea, well, Cicero he got me 3 tickets, and I was wondering, I mean, if you wanted to come with me–us.” Watching Richie stumble on his words was humorous to you, the smile grew large on your face. 

“Are you asking me out, Richie?” 

It had been a while of whatever this was with Richie, and the two of you skipped over the going out on dates phase and went straight to the sex and sleepovers at each other’s places. It made it understandable why he was nervous in asking right now. 

“Yea, I mean– Eva also asked if you could come.”

“Well then I can’t say no.” 

He looked at you, and the Richie you knew came out for a minute, “but if it was just me asking you would’ve?” 

“I would’ve thought more about it.” You teased him, not being able to keep your face neutral as you said it. “I don’t want to interrupt though.” 

“Trust me, I think I need you there, I don’t know shit about this.” 

“Oh, you realize this is going to consume you over the next few weeks, the Era Tour isn’t just a concert, it’s a lifestyle, we have to plan–prep, there’s going to be jewels, glue, tulle, and glitter, lots of glitter.” 

Richie looked at you with a bit of a crazy look. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle the outfits, all I’m gonna need from you is Taylor on repeat, everytime you’re in the car.” 

“I already feel like I do that.” He chuckled and turned to you thinking you’d be laughing too but your face was serious. “Alright, yea, I’ll listen.” He lifted his hands up. 

“Great, I’ll get started on everything else.” You started to gather your things, despite the conversation between you two, the exhaustion was still front of mind for you. 

As you moved to step out of the car, and close the door, you bent down to look at Richie. “You know you’re not getting me out of bed until I have a full 12 hours of sleep, right?” 

He turned the gear of his car into drive and nodded. “Yea I know, I wasn’t gonna come in the afternoon, just knew it’d be the one thing that’d get you out of the car.” 

________

You were currently painting the 13 on Eva’s hand to match your own, she chose purple glitter to match her dress, a child’s version of the enchanted dress. You had on a custom denim jacket that called out all the different eras of Taylors paired with a “I <3 T.S.” t-shirt. 

“Do you think we’ll match?” Eva looked down at her dress and began to twirl. 

“Totally, but honestly?” You faked looking around to make sure no one was around before whispering. “I think you’ll have her beat.” 

This made the girl giggle until Richie walked into the room. “We got like 15 minutes before we should head out, the traffic is going to be awful, I hate driving to the Soldier Field, it's a nightmare.” His stress completely paused as he looked up and saw his daughter. “Wow you look beautiful, kiddo.” He squatted down to be at eye level with her and smiled as she twirled around again. 

“You need to get ready.” She stopped twirling and took a look at Richie. 

He looked down and frowned, “I am ready, babe.” 

“No you need an outfit.” Those last two words were emphasized so deeply that even though Richie had no context or understanding of The Era’s tour aesthetic, he fully understood what his daughter was talking about. 

“Oh no, I was just gonna go like this, I–” 

You cut him off, “I got you a little something” You moved to take something out of the bag you packed. “And I think we can convince your dad to have a 13 on his hand, right?” 

“Yes!” She gripped her fist and chugged her arm down as she said it. 

“Here.” You handed the t-shirt to Richie. He practically did everything but roll his eyes as he grabbed it and unfolded it. It was a blue t-shirt and in the upper left corner was The Beef’s logo but in place of the typical large “BEEF” writing was the word “SWIFTIE” in all caps so the whole thing read “The original SWIFTIE of Chicagoland.” 

“I knew it’d be like pulling teeth to get you in anything else.” He turned the shirt around so now Eva could see it. 

“It’s kind of perfect.” She nodded in acceptance. 

“Yea it is.” His head raised to look at you and nod in gratitude. 

“But you’re not getting out of the 13, let’s go, if I just do the outline we can be on the road in 5 minutes and we’ll make it with plenty of time.” 

_____

The seats were phenomenal, although you couldn’t put it past Cicero to know someone who knew someone to get seats like this. Your seats were on the floor and you hadn’t been to a concert in the pit like this in years, and you’d never been to one where they had seats set up in the pit. This was next level. 

“Are you overwhelmed.” It was a question spoken more as a statement as Eva guided both of you to your seats. 

“Very.” He said looking around at everything. 

Once the show started, the overwhelmingness of the concert itself disappeared and the insanity of the show took over. It was truly a production and a work of art combined. The crowd was electric, the lights from the wristbands, the screams, the costumes, on stage and in the crowd, it was incredible. 

As the entire stage turned purple, everyone’s bands flashed a purple tone, and the screens on the stage rose up, you could see a large purple dress appear and instantly you felt the tug at your jacket and Eva was grabbing you to stand up on the chair. Her face lit up in a smile as she saw Taylor practically matching her. 

As she began singing Enchanted, you turned to Eva and began singing with her, you knew this was her favorite song and this was a moment she had been waiting for all night. You were dancing with her, twirling her around, she’d twirl you around, a real core moment for the both of you honestly. Richie was on the other side of the young girl, making sure she didn’t fall but you’d catch his gaze falling on you occasionally and just act like you didn’t. Each time you’d immediately turn back to Eva and then the stage. Funny how in the midst of a crowd of thousands of people, you could feel like the only people there. Your face felt hot, not in embarrassment but just high off the vibes of everything. The atmosphere, the song. All of this running through your mind as you swayed back and forth mumbling “enchanting to meet you” right before the first chorus outbreak.

Quickly your mind had little to no thoughts in it as Eva screamed in your ear as the chorus began, and similarly she did as the bridge started but this time with every beat she was stomping her feet causing you and Richie to both move to the girl so she didn’t fall off the seat but she had balanced herself with no help needed. 

It was a moment later that you felt Richie’s hand on yours, you realized he had gone to grab fingers and intertwine them in his own There was no purpose behind it, there was no guiding you through the crowd, he was just holding your hand as one of the most, well, most enchanting songs played in the background. 

You looked over at him, and his eyes on you felt hot in passion, the nerves were like static in your gut, similar to an anxiety but for the very opposite reason. It was crazy, you had spent nights unclothed, tangled in sheets with this man, he saw you break down and cry in some of your most vulnerable moments and yet this felt like the first time you were admitting feelings for eachother, because in some way it was. Till this moment everything was very unspoken, and with everything happening around you it felt like the spotlight was on the both you, like the crowd around you was there waiting for you two to announce your love. Obviously that was not the case, no one was looking at you, no one could have given two shits what you two were doing, including Eva. 

It was then that the song ended, her voice as she cheered and screamed snapped both you and Richie out of it and back to the stage, your hands unclasping like someone had come and ripped them apart. 

“I said remember this moment, in the back of my mind, the time we stood with our shaking hands, the crowds in stands went wild.” 

Your eyes couldn’t help but dart over at Richie as you took in the lyrics and while he didn’t look directly at you, he did look down, a little embarrassed and smiled with a chuckle. 

______________

You were stuck in standstill traffic just trying to get out of the stadium’s parking lot. Richie was visibly annoyed, Eva was in the back seat, knocked out, at one point her mile a minute breakdown of the concert just went silent. 

“I think her brain powered down.” You laughed as you peaked back at her sound asleep, purple dress still on but an oversized concert t-shirt was over it now. 

“She’s going to talk about this night for the next month, easily.” He laughed. 

“It was a good night.” You turned back around and settled in the seat, your eyes fell on Richie, “one to remember.” 

The car got silent, Richie was nodding, the snores from the backseat hummed lightly and the honks from the cars around you made you look around at the crowds of people and just utter chaos occurring around you. And yet, you felt none of it sitting in this car right now. 

“You know, I uh–do you remember when you brought those pictures to the restaurant?” The tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel were getting quicker. 

“Yea, when you guys had just started remodeling.” You nodded looking over at him. 

With a nod and a deep swallow he kept talking. “There was one, it was taken right before you left and it just reminded me how I feel like I’ve always been on the sidelines of it all, you know?”

You didn’t want to disappoint him or make him feel like what he was feeling wasn’t valid, but truthfully you were a little confused. “No, I don’t.” It was immediate that his face fell and you knew you only had seconds to recover. “But tell me.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever belonged anywhere. Mikey brought me in as family but like I was never a Berzatto.” 

“Now that I get.” Your hands were fidgeting as you admitted to it, Carmy brought you in, but there was always that lingering feeling. 

He was searching in his pocket for his phone, and quickly brought the picture up to show you. 

“The picnic.” You nodded and remembered it so well.

 “Look where we are.” He pointed in the background. You were both off to the side, cup in hand, not in the craziness of it all but also not standing next to each other either. 

Suddenly you smiled. “Richie?” You asked him looking up as your nostrils flared and eyebrows raised. “Did Miss Taylor Swift’s Long Live make you reminisce a little bit?” 

He stuttered a little bit, laughed and then shook his head as he put his phone away. “No, alright, I just, the whole sidelines thing sparked the thought is all.” He was adjusting the gear shift like the massive line of traffic wasn’t still in front of you. 

“Taylor Swift, Richie Jerimovich’s muse.” The singsong voice you had was enough for him not to get annoyed with you and act more amused by it all. 

“Yea yea, laugh it up, I just, being on the sideline now isn’t all that bad.” 

That was when you stopped joking and looked at him, a soft smile on your face and you nodded and moved to squeeze his hand. 

“No, it’s not.” 

#The Bear #The Bear FX #The Bear Fanfic #richie jerimovich #Richie Jerimovich x Reader #Taylor Swift #The Eras Tour #The Eras Tour Fic #Richie Jerimovich Swiftie

[mimicmimikyuwrites]

Jealousy - Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Sinner!Reader SMUT

Summary: Lucifer's jealousy emerges when your Ex from when you were alive enters the hotel in search of you. Lucifer makes sure to claim you as his.

Contents/Possible Warnings: P in V sex, dom!Lucifer, cream pie, Lucifer being possessive, marking, unprotected sex, degradation (it happens like once), SMUT, MDNI

A typical day in Hell was far from calm, so whenever a peaceful moment occurred, even a small one, you made sure to savor it, appreciating it for what it was. For example, you intended to let the wonderful moment you were currently in last for as long as you possibly could. You had been watching a movie in your room in the hotel, but by now your attention had turned away from the movie in question and onto Lucifer. The king of Hell had snuggled up closer to you than he already had been, his head resting on your shoulder as he watched the show.

The simple gesture made you melt, and you couldn't resist gently turning his face to look at you. Lucifer looked at you curiously, waiting for your next move. You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, enjoying the smile it brought to his face.

"Hmm, that was nice, but I think you missed, love." He leaned in, closing the gap between you two, kissing you lovingly. You moved to deepen the kiss and— a knock came at the door. You parted from the kiss and looked towards your room door as Lucifer let out a disappointed sigh. "I'll make sure to give you as many kisses as you want later, alright?" You whispered to him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before standing up and answering the door.

"(Y/N)!" Charlie exclaimed in excitement. "The hotel has a new guest! They said that they know you. You two must've been friends before! Come on, let's go see them!" Without warning, Charlie eagerly grabbed you by the hand, pulling you through the hallways of the hotel and towards the main lobby.

In the lobby, you saw them. The fucker you had hoped would never die purely so you would never have to see them again. Yet, here they were in all of their trashy, shit glory. "Hi." You said with a fake smile, trying to remain civil and hold back the resentment that had since been dormant.

"(Y/N)! Baby!" Your ex grinned, approaching you with wide, open arms. "I'm so glad I found you after all these years. It took some asking around, but we're together again!" They wrapped their arms around you, squeezing you tight enough that it felt like you might suffocate.

"Woah, haha! Hands off, please!" Lucifer appeared next to you, poking at your ex with his cane, annoyance seeping into his forced, polite tone. They finally released you, glaring at Lucifer as he stepped between the two of you.

"And just who the hell are you?" Your ex questioned, watching as Lucifer wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to his side. "I feel like I should be asking you that question." Your boyfriend replied snidely, any attempt to be polite despite the situation now far gone.

"Alrighty!" Charlie said with a nervous laugh, wishing that she had gathered more information about her hotel's newest guest and their relationship with you before allowing them to see you. "Let's all just relax, and maybe (Y/N) can introduce the two of you to eachother."

You let out a sigh. You loved how sweet Charlie was taking in any sinner, you really did, but sometimes it did more harm than good, usually to no fault of her own. You motioned to your ex, "Lucifer, this is my ex." Then you motioned to your boyfriend, "This is Lucifer. King of Hell...And my boyfriend." The last part felt almost weird to say, the surrealness of dating the Hell's king and the man sometimes known as the devil himself finally setting in.

Your ex only laughed in response, earning an angry, growling-like noise from Lucifer. You grabbed his hand, squeezing it in an attempt to calm him down which only partially worked.

"There's no way this little guy is Hell's king! He's so fucking short. I really thought you had better standards in who you date, babe."

"Fuck you." You hissed, anger bubbling up inside of you as you felt yourself slipping into your more demonic form. "He's certainly better than you ever were." By now the other inhabitants of the hotel had gathered around, some more entertained than anything, while others, particularly Vaggie, were preparing for the brawl that was surely about to happen.

"Woah! Look at the time." Charlie intervened. "It's getting pretty late, why don't we all start heading to bed?" You responded only by turning around and heading towards your room, in desperate need of calming yourself down. Lucifer followed behind you, the walk to your room quiet with no words spoken.

You opened your door, nearly throwing it open in your still-present anger, before flopping down onto the bed with a loud, frustrated groan. You looked to the side, taking notice of the way Lucifer refused to look at you, his arms crossed.

"Honey?" No answer. "Love?" No answer, yet again. "Luci?" That did the trick. He always melted whenever you called him that.

"Your ex is fucking annoying."

You let out a small chuckle at his bluntness, a smile making its way onto your face. "They are, Luci. That's why they're my ex." You sat up, pulling him down onto the bed with you, kissing him, causing both of you to relax, some built-up tension leaving.

"You're all mine, aren't you?" He questioned, already knowing your answer. "Mine to love. Mine to claim." His mouth moved to your neck, sharp teeth grazing the skin, and you let out a soft moan as he began to nibble and kiss at the skin, his teeth leaving a mark you were sure he'd take pride in.

Your head fell to the side, giving him more access to your neck as you took his hat off, throwing it to the side, your fingers running through his hair as he continued to mark you.

"I'm going to ruin you for anyone else. You'll only ever want me." He whispered, lips returning to yours in a fervent kiss. Your lips remained locked together, only occasionally parting for a few seconds so you could help rid each other of the clothes that separated you from what you both craved.

He moved between your legs, the tip of his hardened cock teasing at your wet entrance. Usually, you two would've done more before the main act, but you two were more than ready to indulge in the other right now.

"Don't be a tease, Lucifer." You purred, spreading your legs wider. "Can't you feel how wet I am? How ready I am for you to fuck me senseless?"

He smirked before finally slipping in, biting his lip to prevent an almost embarrassingly loud moan that threatened to surface at the way you felt wrapped around him. He has been in heaven before, and he could say with confidence that being deep inside of you felt better than anything his former home could've offered him.

He began to thrust, his pace starting slow, still teasing you. He wanted you to beg, and you already knew it.

"Faster, harder, please, Lucifer—" You pleaded, giving in to what he wanted from you. "I know you want to pound me into this bed, Lucifer—Ah! Fuck!—" His pace sped up, and the sound of hips meeting yours in rapid succession filled the room. "Fuckfuckfuck–yes!"

"You always feel so fucking good." He growled, wings slipping out as he lost himself in the ecstasy that was your pussy. You ran your fingers through the red and white feathers, and he let out a pleasured whine at the feeling. His wings had always been sensitive.

"Fuck me—Let them all know I'm yours!" You cried out, losing yourself in the feeling of his cock fucking you with quick, deep strokes. You gripped the sheets in your hands, back arching as he angled himself just right, hitting your sweet spot head on.

"Mine. Mine to ruin, mine to fuck, and mine to fill up. All mine." His hands found yours, pinning them down against the bed as he began to fuck you even harder, his climax nearing. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer.

"I'm gonna cum–You're going to make me cum so hard–"

"Then fucking do it." He demanded with a growl. "Cum around my cock like the little slut you are for me." You came around him, cunt spasming as your orgasm coursed through you. Lucifer's wings fluttered as he followed you soon after, filling you up with his hot cum.

You pulled him down into a sweet kiss once your climax subsided, cupping his face in your hands. God, you loved him more than anything. The kiss ended after a good moment, leaving you both to bask in your shared, post-coital bliss.

"You lost a few feathers," You observed with a giggle, holding one up. He chuckled warmly, lying beside you. You rested your head on his chest, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. You'd have to deal with your ex in the morning, but for now, you were both satisfied with knowing that you were entirely Lucifer's, and that's how you'd always want it to be.

#hazbin hotel #mdni #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel smut #lucifer hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #lucifer hazbin x reader #lucifer x reader smut #hazbin hotel x reader smut #smut #banner by cafekitsune #💫mimicwrites💫 #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader smut #fem reader #fem!reader #hazbin lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader smut #hazbin hotel x y/n

[whimsyprinx]

i’m not sure if my ask sent last night (but it’s me the anon who wants to draw ur ocs) would you rather have me tag ur artblog or your main? i’ll post my silly sketches when i know !

IM SO SORRY tumblr straight up did not notify me of your ask! okay so here’s the thing, I’m actually in the process of moving blogs but was (am) planning to make an official post about that in the next few days!

#whimsy whispers #asks #anon #thanks for the ask! #drawing anon #I was wondering if I should wait and answer this but since I missed the first ask I feel bad for delaying answering this one #I don’t want you to think I’m ignoring you or that your asks #aren’t sending #sorry hit send too soon I just spilled a drink on my lap

[matchingbatbites]

"What the fuck did you do?"

Eddie wasn't expecting hostility when he answered Jeff's phone call, his best friend's usual calm demeanor replaced with open annoyance. And yeah, okay, the annoyance itself wasn’t new, but Eddie doesn’t think he’s actually done anything recently to earn it.

"Well-"

"Actually, no. I'll tell you what you did. You retweeted photos of Steve Harrington - internationally beloved heartthrob actor Steve Harrington - along with the caption 'not to sound like a subby slut but GOD I would be his puppy baby boy in a heartbeat'. So I guess the better question is, what the fuck were you thinking, Eddie?"

Eddie's jaw clicks shut because- yeah, he had done that. Had seen those photos of Steve smoking circling the internet and spent god knows how long just staring at them, had curbed the desire to shove his hand down his pants by posting a single thirst tweet about it.

“I was thinking, Jeff, that I'm allowed to post whatever I want to my private fucking twitter, man. I mean it's a free country, isn't a guy allowed to make a horny tweet about a sexy man every now and then?”

“You are, when you actually post it to your private account and not our award winning band's main account.”

No. Oh no. There's no way Eddie actually-

He rips his phone away from his face to open twitter, and realizes two things simultaneously. One, Jeff is right, he had posted it to the band's account. Not on his private, locked, personal account, but on the account that's actually open and free for literally anyone on earth to look at.

The second thing he realizes is that their notifications are currently flooded with responses to Eddie's tweet, somehow racking up into the thousands in the few hours it's been since. 

Jesus Christ.

“Eddie?”

The metalhead jerks back into the moment and put Jeff on speaker so he can scroll through the horde of replies, says “Fuck, I fucked up. Are we gonna have to do damage control on this?”

In the mess is a reply from Gareth's own personal account: @ corrodededdie stop tweeting from the band account challenge 🙄🙄🙄

”Maybe. There hasn't been any type of response from Harrington or his people, but they might ask us to take it down if it blows up too much.“

Eddie hums, thinking they might be too little, too late about it blowing up too much, and flips over to his main account so he can reply to Gareth's little jab appropriately. He isn't surprised to see that he has a couple of new messages, probably from other people wondering just what the fuck Eddie was thinking, but when he goes to check them-

He's never been happier that he turned on messages from followers only, because then he would have missed this, missed Steve Harrington's little profile picture beaming up at him from the screen of his phone, along with a new message request.

”Jeff, I gotta go,” he says, not even realizing he's cut the other man off.

“Eddie, what-

”Harrington messaged me. I'll call you back.“

Eddie doesn't wait for a response as he hangs up on Jeff, and his hands definitely aren't shaking as he opens the message from Steve. And listen- Eddie is a fan of the guy, that much should be obvious. 

Steve had grown in popularity around the same time Corroded Coffin had; he’d gotten some part in a drama film that had skyrocketed him into stardom, and Eddie fell in love the moment he saw that gorgeous face on the silver screen for the first time. He's never had a chance to interact with the guy, has been in the same place a few times but always missed him, like ships passing in the night, but Eddie's been fine with pining from afar, just like every other person on the planet that's even remotely attracted to men.

Besides, even with how popular Corroded Coffin has gotten over the years - a couple of Grammy’s here, a dozen chart topping metal songs there - Eddie doesn’t expect Steve to just. Know who Eddie is.

With all of this in mind, Eddie is expecting some kind of semi-casual request to take the tweet down, that it's not a good look for his image-

Anything other than what Steve actually sent.

'If you're puppy baby boy, does that make me Master? Or Daddy?'

And Eddie- 

Eddie slides down, sinks into his couch cushion as all of the blood in his body suddenly shifts, rushing to fill his dick like it's a fucking race. The phone almost slips out of his hand and he fumbles it briefly before taking a deep breath. 

Is Steve serious? He wouldn't send that if he wasn't serious, right?

This could be it, could be Eddie's one chance to impress Steve, to get his foot in the door of Steve's interest. He bites his lip and types out a reply, something quick that he sends before he can change his mind.

‘I’m open to either, actually. Do you have a preference, sir?’

He doesn’t expect the typing indicator to come up immediately, and just knowing that Steve is somewhere right now, typing out a response to Eddie, is enough to have him nearly vibrating in his seat.

‘I’m partial to Daddy, myself.’

Fuck fuck fuck.

Eddie takes a breath, tries to think of a response that isn’t just ‘Please, Daddy, can I sit on your massive dick that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since that one indie film you did that just had all of your junk out in the open?’

Steve saves him by sending another message.

‘But maybe we could start with Steve, and possibly dinner? Though I’d be happy to see where things go after that.’

He- What-

Eddie must have stopped breathing, because the next time he takes a breath his lungs burn, his mid races because there’s no way Eddie’s long term celebrity crush just asked him on a date. He sits there long enough that the screen goes dark and he scrambles to turn it back on, sees the message still there, real and unchanged.

There’s no way he can say no to this, to Steve, and his hands shake as he types out a response.

‘Dinner would be great. Just name the time and place, Daddy.’

#like everyone else those new pics of joe keery left me kind of #feral. horny. slutty. #so i channeled my feeling a bit #i miiiight do more of this but no promises #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #rockstar eddie munson #actor steve harrington #joey writes #ficlet #fun fact: eddie's tweet was my actual real life message to my friends about those pics

[d-targaryenshoe]

Pinkish Clouds - Anthony Bridgerton

Word count: 1515

Summary: It is very precious to watch your husband take responsibility as a father, is it not?

As the first rays of sunlight streamed through the drapes, Y/n Bridgerton, wife of Anthony, stirred in your sumptuous bed. 

The soft linens, embroidered with intricate floral patterns, caressed your skin like the gentle touch of a spring breeze. The scent of lavender filled your nostrils, a welcome aroma that signified a new beginning. 

You stretched your limbs, the memory of the labor pains you endured the day before still fresh in your mind. 

But as you lay there, lost in thought, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment and accomplishment.

You opened your eyes, taking in the familiar surroundings of your chamber. 

To your left, a fireplace crackled, its warmth banishing the morning chill. To your right, a large window overlooked the immaculately manicured gardens beyond. 

And beside your bed, your sisters-in-law, Eloise and Daphne, sat in quiet conversation, their laughter tinkling like bells.

You felt a pang of affection for the two women who had become such an important part of your life since your marriage to Anthony. 

Eloise, the youngest of the two, had always been somewhat of a sympathy to her. 

With her smart mind and independent soul, she was a far cry from the demure, obedient society ladies you had grown up with. 

Yet, there was no denying the deep bond that existed between them. As for Daphne, she was sweet-natured, charming, and utterly irresistible. 

As you sat up in bed, your sisters-in-law turned to you, their faces alight with curiosity and excitement. 

"Good morning, y/n," they chorused, beaming at you. "How do you feel?"

You smiled weakly. "A bit exhausted, to be honest. But otherwise, I'm doing well. How are you two?"

Eloise shrugged.

 "We're fine. Daphne's been keeping me company while you were asleep. It's been rather dull if I'm being fair." She glanced at her sister, her expression teasing.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Oh, hush. I've been enjoying myself. Again, we have something rather important to discuss." She leaned in conspiratorially.

 "Mother has been pacing the hallway for hours. I think she's tense to see the new addition to the family. I'm sure she'll be in soon." 

As if on cue, a knock was heard at the door. "That must be her now," Daphne said, her face lighting up with anticipation.

Eloise rose from her seat and crossed the room to answer the door. You, feeling slightly more awake now, sitting up straighter in bed, wondering what your mother-in-law had in store for you today. 

As Eloise swung the door open, a warm, familiar figure filled the entrance.

 "Mother!" Daphne cried out, leaping to her feet. "We've been waiting for you."

Violet Bridgerton, the family matriarch, surveyed the scene with a delighted smile. 

"My, my," she said, her eyes twinkling. "It seems I've missed quite a bit. A new baby, I hear." 

She glanced at you, her expression softening into one of motherly concern. "And how are you feeling, dear? Are you in need of anything?"

You felt a lump form in your throat as you looked at the woman who had become your second mother since marrying Anthony. 

Violet was everything a lady should be, gracious, elegant, and utterly devoted to her family. 

She was also fiercely protective of them, always making sure they were well cared for and safe. 

As you struggled to find the words to express your gratitude, all you could do was manage a small smile. "I'm doing well, thank you. Your presence is all the comfort I need."

Her sisters-in-law exchanged knowing glances, clearly understanding the depth of emotion behind your words. 

They each took turns leaning in to kiss Violet's cheek, expressing their own gratitude for her love and support. 

As they did so, the room seemed to fill with a palpable sense of warmth and affection.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Violet said, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Now, I have a special gift for you and the baby. I've been working on it for months." 

She reached into her reticule and pulled out a small, delicately wrapped package, which she placed in your lap. "It's not much, but I hope you'll like it."

Your curiosity piqued, and you gently unwrapped the package, revealing a beautiful, hand-stitched blanket adorned with intricate lacework. 

"Oh, Violet, it's lovely!" you exclaimed, your voice breaking with emotion. "I will cherish it always." 

Tears began to form in your eyes as you clutched the blanket to your chest. "Thank you, thank you so much."

Eloise and Daphne exchanged knowing smiles. They knew that this gift, more than anything else, symbolized Violet's acceptance of you as one of her own.

 It was a symbol of the love and support that you all shared as a family.

As they continued to stand there, the room seemed to fill with a sense of peace and contentment. 

Even though there was still so much that needed to be done, for this brief moment, you were all together, united in your love for one another.

"Now, girls," Violet said, her voice soft and gentle, "I've been thinking. Perhaps you would like to help y/n with something?" 

Her suggestion was met with nods of agreement from Eloise and Daphne. 

They had been itching to help out but had wanted to give their mother time to bond with you first.

"Would you like us to help you get out of bed?" Eloise asked, her tone reassuring. "We could help you down to the sitting room to see Anthony and the baby." 

Your face lit up at the thought, and you quickly nodded your consent. The two sisters moved forward, each taking an arm to assist you as you slowly rose from the bed. 

Once you were upright, they were beginning to guide you toward the sitting room.

The hallway was long and winding, the walls adorned with paintings that told the story of the family's history.

 As you made your way down the hall, you could hear the faint strains of music drifting towards you. 

It was the same waltz you had danced to at your wedding, the one that always made your heart skip a beat. 

The closer you got, the more the music seemed to swirl around you, pulling you forward with irresistible force.

Finally, you reached the sitting room, its windows overlooking the lush gardens beyond. 

The room was lit by soft candlelight, casting a warm glow over the gathered family. 

Anthony was dancing slowly with your newborn baby, his eyes never leaving the child's face as he moved in perfect harmony with the music. 

Eloise and Daphne guided you to a comfortable chair by the window, where you could watch the scene unfold before you.

As you all watched, you could feel a lump forming in your throat. It was so beautiful to see your husband dancing with your child, their love for each other shining through every movement. 

You could see the resemblance between them, both of them with Anthony's dark hair and eyes. 

The baby's tiny fingers curled around Anthony's finger as if she were already familiar with the feeling of being held so close.

Your sisters-in-law took seats on either side of you, their hands clasped together in their laps. 

They smiled at you, understanding the depth of emotion that you were feeling at that moment.

 It was a precious moment, one that you would all cherish for the rest of your lives.

As Anthony finished his dance with the baby, he came over to you all, his face flushed with happiness and exhaustion. 

He bent down to kiss your forehead, his touch sending a wave of warmth through your body.

 "I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I wanted to be the first one to hold her, and I did not want to wake you."

"It's all right," you replied softly, your eyes never leaving his face. "I know you were with her." Anthony smiled at you, a tear trickling down his cheek. 

He reached out and took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I've been thinking," he said, hesitating for a moment before continuing, "That we should have a naming ceremony for the baby. Something small and intimate, just for our closest friends and family. What do you think?"

Your heart swelled with joy at the thought. You turned to your sisters-in-law, your face alight with excitement.

 "That sounds excellent," you said, your voice shaking slightly with emotion. "I would adore that." 

"Then it's settled," Anthony declared, his voice strong and sure. "We'll have the ceremony next weekend. Everyone will be here to celebrate with us."

 He leaned down to kiss your forehead again before returning to his daughter, who had fallen asleep in his arms.

As you all watched Anthony gently rock the child in his arms, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. 

You were home, surrounded by the people she loved most in the world. And despite the challenges that lay ahead, she knew that they would face them together, as a family.

#anthony bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagines #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton netflix #colin bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #anthony x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x y/n #x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #colin bridgerton #eloise bridgerton

[waitimcomingtoo]

This Means War

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Synopsis: Peter and his crush on you feel threatened when your childhood best friend Harley Keener comes to visit and clearly harbors feelings for you

Masterlist

“Do you think I’d explode if I drank this?” You asked and swished around the insides of the beaker you were holding. Peter looked up at you through his lab goggled and chuckled.

“I don’t know. You should try it.”

“You say that now but you’d be so sad if I exploded.” You insisted. “You’d have no one to watch Over the Hedge with.”

“Wait, can we watch Over the Hedge tonight?” He pleaded. “I forgot about that movie. I love it so much.”

“I know you do. Which is why you’re gonna be sad and alone watching it tonight and thinking wow, I wish I didn’t let my best friend explode.” You shrugged and put the beaker down.

“Um, excuse you. I would never be best friends with a girl. You have cooties and go to Jupiter to get more stupider.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong.” You chortled. “Because I actually went to college to get more knowledge. It’s boys who went to Jupiter to get more stupider.”

“But if I, as a boy, successfully figured out how to travel to Jupiter, wouldn’t that make me the smarter one? Since I cracked interplanetary travel?”

“I think you should drink this.” You said after a beat of silence and held the beaker up. Peter laughed and you did too. He snuck another glance at you as you combined the contents of two flasks and made a tiny explosion. You often accompanied him in the lab when he was at the Avengers tower despite not being much of a scientist yourself. You just liked to help and watch as he did his thing.

“Thanks for helping me, by the way.” Peter said. “I’m sure you have a million other things you’d rather be doing than helping me develop new kinds of web fluid.”

“I don’t mind.” You shrugged. “If you throw out the words “tornado web”, of course I’m gonna want to help you make that possible. Plus, I like spending time in the lab with you.”

“You do? Because so do I.” He said as a blush covered his face. You looked up from what you were working on and gave him a smile. Peter sucked in a sharp breath and cleared his throat.

“Um, so, I’m just gonna throw this out there and you can tell me how you feel.” Peter began. “I was wondering if maybe sometime you’d want to-“

“Where is she?” Peter was cut off by an unfamiliar voice booming through the lab. You immediately looked up and pulled your goggles down.

“Harley?” You asked, sending a twinge of jealousy down to Peter’s stomach.

“Who?” He asked you. His question was answered by a tall, sandy blonde guy walking into the lab. He wore an oversized corduroy jacket with patches on the elbows that made him look the kind of effortlessly cool Peter could only dream of looking.

“Harley!” You exclaimed and put your beaker down to run to him. Peter watched with furrowed eyebrows as you threw your arms around Harley’s neck and hugged him tightly. Harley wrapped both arms around you and lifted you off the ground as he spun around.

“There’s my girl. I missed you so much.” He said into your ear as he swayed back and forth with you in his arms.

“I missed you too.” You told him as you pulled out of the hug but stayed in his arms. Peter felt like he was about to pass out and maybe even die over the sight in front of him so he cleared his throat to remind you he was there.

“Hi. Sorry, your girl? Who is this guy?” Peter asked you through a forced laugh as he shit daggers at Harley.

“Oh, sorry. Peter, this is Harley Keener. He’s my dad’s friend.” You explained as you slid out of Harley’s embrace but kept an arm around his torso.

“Your dad’s friend? How old is he?” Peter asked.

“He is your age. Feel free to direct any of your questions at me, by the way.” Harley said sarcastically but playfully to Peter.

“Harley, this is Peter. My dad’s other young adult male friend.” You told Harley. Harley held out his hand and Peter shook it as hard as he could while never breaking eye contact with who he had now deemed his competition.

“Right. I’ve heard of you. You’re the one that can shrink down really small, right?” Harley asked while still shaking Peters hand. Peter narrowed his eyes at Harley when he registered the subtle shade and tightened his grip.

“No. That’s Antman. Peter is Spiderman.” You explained. Peter gave you a look that told you to stop talking since you had just revealed his identity.

“It’s okay. We can trust Harley. He’s known everyone’s secret alias’s from before the Avengers were even a thing. He’s not gonna tell anybody.” You assured Peter.

“Yeah, you can trust me. But sorry for the mix up. I just assumed you had shrunk yourself to be that short.” Harley smirked as he stopped shaking Peter’s hand.

“I’m not short.” Peter defended. “I’m the average height of a woman.”

“I bet you are.” Harley snorted. “You said it was Peter, right?”

“Yes. A man’s name. That makes one of us.” Peter mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

“That’s weird. You’ve never mentioned him, Sands.” Harley said to you as he slung an arm over your shoulders. Peters jaw tightened as his eyes flickered between you and Harley.

“Sands?” Peter asked you.

“Oh, it’s an old nickname from when we were kids that he still insists on using for some reason.” You said and playfully rolled your eyes.

“How cute.” Peter scrunched his nose. “Who doesn’t love nicknames?”

“I’m guessing you do, Spiderman. How did you get your powers anyway? Did you fall into a giant tank of spiders or something?” Harley asked, making you laugh.

“No. No one has a giant tank of spiders just lying around uncovered. I got bitten. And then it got infected. And now I’m really sticky and sensitive to loud noises and don’t need glasses anymore.” Peter stated with zero amusement in his voice.

“Hm. I’m starting to see why you didn’t bring this guy up, Sands.” Harley whispered in your ear but Peter still heard. He gulped and felt his jealousy grow as you leaned into Harley to hear him better.

“I’m sorry, how did you say you two know each other?” Peter asked through another fake laugh.

“My dad befriended Harley when we were kids. He’s a family friend now. He and his mom come over for holidays and family dinner sometimes but I haven’t seen him in a while since his band went on tour.”

Peter fought the urge to laugh at him being in a band but didn’t when he remembered that you had a thing for band guys. He looked Harley up and down and had to admit that he was your type to a T.

“So you grew up together? Thats great. You must have a real sibling bond now after knowing each other all those years. And you know what they say about siblings.“

“And what do they say about siblings?” Harley asked him with an amused smile.

“Well I didn’t think I’d have to explain why incest is bad to you but I guess I don’t know how you do things down in…wherever you’re from.”

“I’m originally from Tennessee. And you’re right, we do have a special bond. Y/n was my best friend before her dad sent her to fancy private school and she got all pretty and made rich friends.” Harley teased and gave your shoulder a squeeze.

“Hey. We’re still friends.” You insisted.

“Best friends, though?” He asked skeptically. You laughed and looked at Peter, whose expression immediately made you drop your smile. You and Harley were not as close as you used to be and in his absence, you’d grown close to Peter. In that moment, you didn’t really know who you considered your best friend.

“Peter and I were actually just in the middle of making something. You can totally stick around and help but I know you’re not much of a science guy.” You said to change the subject.

“That’s okay. I’m gonna go say hi to your mom and catch up with you later, all right?” Harley asked as he placed a hand on each of your shoulders. He was so touchy with you and to make matters worse, you looked perfectly comfortable with it. Despite you and Peter being close, you were never the type of friends to show physical affection.

“Okay. Thanks for saying hi. We’ll talk later.” You replied.

“We will. Now come on. Bring it in.” Harley smiled and opened his arms to you. Your eyes flicked to Peter again who looked like someone had take his batteries out. You felt inexplicably guilty as you stepped into Harley’s arms for a hug.

“Missed you.” Harley hummed as he rubbed his hand in circles on your back.

“Missed you too.” You said as you stared into Peter’s eyes over Harley’s shoulder. Harley gave your arm a squeeze before leaving the lab, leaving you and Peter in awkward silence for a while.

“What?” You laughed nervously to break the silence.

“You really never mentioned me to him?” Peter asked quietly.

“I have. I definitely told him about the time you got your finger stuck in that park bench.”

“Okay, well that was really traumatic for me so thanks for bringing that up. I’m glad that’s the one thing worth mentioning about me.” Peter grumbled and went back to working on his web fluid.

“Peter, come on.” You groaned. “Don’t be mad at me. I talk about you all the time. He probably just didn’t remember because I usually call you “my friend” when I tell a story about you since he doesn’t know you.”

“Okay. That makes sense. But how come you never mentioned him to me? Did you know want me to know about this other guy best friend or something?”

“I have mentioned him. Remember I told you about the friend I used to play house with? But we’d always fight because we both wanted to be the dog?”

“He definitely looks the part of the dog.” Peter mumbled.

“Hey.” You laughed. “Be nice. He’s my friend.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just feeling a little weird that this whole time there was this guy you have whole history with and I didn’t know anything about him until today. I guess I just thought we knew everything about each other.” Peter said without looking you in the eyes.

“You’re right. It is weird. I guess I just never really thought about explicitly telling you about him. He’s just kinda been a passing figure in my stories from my childhood. But you know, you and I have deep history too. So deep that when you and I are together, I’m not thinking about other people I know. I’m only thinking about you and how God damn annoying you are when you ignore my ideas but then magically come up with the exact same one ten minutes later.”

“Because only men are allowed to have good ideas.” Peter laughed now that you had put some of his nerves to rest.

“You’re right. Sorry, sir. I forgot.” You said meekly, making Peter laugh. He was able to relax now that you talked it out but he was still curious.

“So, did you and Harry-“

“Harley.” You corrected.

“Yeah, whatever.” He rolled his eyes. “Did you guys ever date or anything?”

You were quiet for a minute which was exactly what Peter was afraid of. It looked like you were thinking of something, a memory that Peter didn’t have access to but desperately wished he did.

“No. We were only ever friends.” You said finally.

“But did you ever like him? Like, like like him?”

“Like like like?” You teased him.

“You’re avoiding the question.” Peter said without sharing in your laughter. You stopped smiling and shrugged a little.

“I don’t know. I’ve known him a really long time. So yeah, I’m sure there were a few times where I wondered if we were meant to be more than friends. But nothing ever happened between us.”

“Oh.” Peter said curtly and nodded his head. You snuck a glance at Peter but he was looking down so you couldn’t tell what his face was doing.

“Why do you ask?” You wondered.

“I’m just curious since I don’t know anything about the alleged childhood best friend of my young adult best friend.”

“Well don’t be. Because there’s nothing to know.”

“You’ve been friends with him since you were kids but there’s nothing to know? How boring is this guy?” Peter snorted and hoped you’d say he was the least interesting person you knew.

“He’s not boring. You remind me of him a lot, actually. You guys are very similar.”

“Does that mean you’ve ever wondered about us?” Peter asked before he could stop himself. You froze and looked up at Peter who was bright red under his goggles.

“Um…” You began. Before you had a chance to finish that thought, the contents of your beaker exploded and webs shot all over your section of the lab table. You jumped in surprise and Peter ran over to you to pull you away from the explosion. He kept you behind his back as he threw a towel over the smoking beaker to snuff it out.

“Maybe that’s enough lab work for the day.” You said as the smoke alarms began to blare. Peter covered his sensitive ears with his hands and you smiled apologetically before putting your hands on top of his to further block out the noise.

“I have, by the way. I have wondered about us.” You admitted as you looked into his eyes.

“What? What about pus?” Peter shouted over the noise. You smiled tightly and shook your head.

“Nothing. Let’s get out of here.”

A few days later, you and Peter were back in the lab to work on some things. Harley was still visiting, much to Peter’s dismay. But nevertheless, he was grateful to have alone time in the lab with you without any interruptions. That is, of course, until you were interrupted.

“Hey, you.” Harley greeted as he walked into the lab in water another oversized jacket that made him look like the love interest in an 80s movie.

“Hey, you.” You smiled in response while Peter discreetly rolled his eyes.

“Hello Peter.” Harley said with a tight smile.

“Hey, Harry.” Peter replied. Harley caught the intentional misnomer but didn’t say anything.

“Woah. Why does it smell like badussy in here?” Harley grimaced as he sniffed the air.

“Stop.” You groaned. “It does not.”

“What’s badussy?” Peter asked.

“Um, butt, dick and pussy. Obviously.” Harley replied as if Peter should have already known that.

“No. Not obviously. I only know what two thirds of those smell like, so.” Peter shrugged.

“You’re telling me you’ve never walked into a humid public bathroom and it smelled like straight up cooch in there?” You asked Peter.

“Um, no.” Peter stated. “I have not. Men’s public bathrooms usually smell like wide open ass. No notes of cooch.”

“He’s right.” Harley agreed. “Especially New York bathrooms. And there’s usually poop or blood or after birth smeared on the walls.”

Peter stifled a laugh and turned his head when he found it harder than he expected. Harley noticed Peter laughing and smirked.

“It’s okay. You can laugh at my jokes.” Harley told him.

“I wasn’t.” Peter lied and held in another laugh.

“You so were. You guys don’t have to sworn enemies, you know. You’re allowed to be friends.” You told them.

“No we can’t.” Harley shook his head.

“He’s right. Shockingly. We can’t.” Peter agreed.

“Why not? You’re like the helvetica and comic sans version of each other.”

“Who’s comic sans?” Peter asked at the same time Harley said, “I call helvetica.”

“See?” You laughed. “You guys are meant to be friends. So get off your high horses and French kiss each other already.”

“We are so not gonna French kiss.” Peter mumbled.

“Yeah. If I’m French kissing anyone in this room, it’s not gonna be him.” Harley replied. His sentence both flirted with you and took a dig at Peter, giving Harley the upper hand once again.

“She doesn’t want to French kiss anyone. She infamously thinks that’s the grossest form of kissing. I’m surprised you don’t know that. I thought you guys were best friends.” Peter tilted his head to the side just to piss Harley off. Harley took the bait and folded his lips in.

“I’m surprised too. When did she tell you that? Did she mention it while you guys were braiding each other’s hair and making foul smelling potions?” Harley asked and swished the contents of the beaker around.

“First of all, they’re not potions because we’re not Minecraft witches.” Peter snapped. “And secondly, we don’t braid each other’s hair. She gave me one braid one time when my barber actually left a long strand of hair and I wanted a tiny padawan braid.”

“You’re telling me this smoking beaker of green fluid isn’t a potion? What the hell even is this? Fuel for a fart gun?” Harley grimaced and put the beaker down. You laughed at Harley’s questions, sending white hot jealousy through Peter’s veins. He could feel you slipped through his fingers and falling right into Harley’s arms.

“No. Because I’m not a character from Despicable Me, it’s not fuel for a fart gun.” Peter replied and snatched the beaker.

“Then what is it? Don’t tell me you made a love potion to get her to fall for you. Because I hate to tell you this, but it’s not gonna work. No matter how many strands of her hair or fingernail clippings you threw in there.”

“Stop teasing him.” You warned. “It’s a not a love potion or a fart gun. We’re trying to make a web fluid that doubles as a stink bomb in case he needs to make a quick escape.”

“Ew. What the hell is web fluid? And where does it come out?” Harley grimaced and looked Peter up and down.

“For a dollar, I’ll show you.” Peter said with a wink.

“Web fluid is one of Peters many inventions. It helps him swing from building to building.” You explained.

“Oh yeah? Why do you have to make it in a lab? Shouldn’t Spiderman be able to produce his own webs?” Harley asked Peter.

“I don’t know. Shouldn’t you be in school or an AA meeting for skinny jeans or something?” Peter shot back, making you laugh.

“How would it be an AA meeting if it’s for skinny jeans? Wouldn’t that make is skinny jeans anonymous?” Harley pulled apart his joke, making Peter clench his jaw.

“Well I don’t attend the meetings so I’m not sure what they’re called.” Peter shrugged and looked away.

“Right, right. Hey, why don’t you tell him what you said about my skinny jeans?” Harley said to you.

“I said nothing.” You mumbled.

“Come on. Tell him what you said.” Harley laughed and poked your side. Peter watched the interaction and clenched his toes in his shoes.

“What did you say?” Peter asked you, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“I said I liked them because they remind me of the frat boy pictures of Harry and Niall from back in the day, okay? Specifically that picture with the yellow hat and white shirt. Is that what you all wanted to hear? Are you both happy now?”

Peter discreetly punched the table out of frustration because he knew exactly what photo you were talking about. He knew because you had shown it to him when teaching him out the epic high and lows of reading One Direction at a formative age.

“Well she once told me that my outfit reminded her of Alex’s hot Italian boyfriend from Wizards of Waverly Place.” Peter replied in an attempt to level the playing field.

“Dean Moriarty.” You gasped. “He was so fucking hot.”

“Oh yeah. I remember him. We used to watch that show together after school. In my living room. Sharing one blanket.” Harley recalled the memory while looking at Peter to see if that bothered him as much as he hoped.

“Okay well I see your one musty blanket and raise you the time she sat on my lap because there weren’t enough seats in the car. And her pony tail was in my mouth for the whole ride. Sounds like a really comfortable blanket, though. Congrats.”

“Oh my God.” You groaned. “Guys, stop. I can’t listen to you trying to one up each other with what you think are impressive things. I’m friends with both of you and that’s it. I’m not gonna be the yard stick in your dick measuring contest right now.”

“Yard stick?” Harley laughed. “Damn. What type of guys have you been dating?”

“Not you, obviously.” Peter mumbled.

“And why is that obvious?” Harley asked him.

“Because you’re wearing the Bella Hadid of skinny jeans right now and they don’t leave much to the imagination.” Peter shrugged. You shot him a look but he wasn’t backing down.

“I don’t even know what that means.” Harley snorted.

“It means your jeans are really tight, Keen.” You whispered to him. A smile tugged at Harley’s lips over the nickname and he took that as an opportunity to wrap his arm around your shoulders.

“Sorry. You know I’m not great with pop culture references. I’m more into the classics.”

“You literally just mentioned frat Harry and Niall but okay.” Peter mumbled under his breath.

“Stop fighting.” You warned. “This weird little competition you have going on it stupid and unnecessary. I want you guys to be friends. Then we can all hang out.”

“We can never be friends, Sands.” Harley told you.

“Yeah. That was the second time the broken clock was right.” Peter agreed. “Because he’s Gale and I’m Peeta. He’s Jacob and I’m Edward. He’s Jesse and I’m Jake. He’s Tom Hardy and I’m Chris Pine in that movie we watched where they’re both spies and fall in love with Reese Witherspoon.”

“This Means War.” You snapped your fingers when you remember the name of the movie he was talking about.

“Hold on. I’m pretty sure you made yourself the guy who gets the girl in all those examples.” Harley pointed out.

“And I’m pretty sure you 100% understand pop culture references so I’m not sure why you lied a minute ago.” Peter replied.

“If you’re gonna keep this up I’m leaving.” You told them.

“Fine. We’ll stop. But if you’re not too busy with this web stuff, I could use your help with a song.”

“You sing?” Peter sighed in defeat. He had hoped Harley was just the water boy or something for the band he was in.

“A little.” Harley shrugged.

“He’s being modest.” You insisted. “Harley has a great voice. And he plays the guitar. You should come with me the next time his band has a show. He’s the frontman.

“Jesus Christ. Of course he’s the frontman. Do you ride a motorcycle too?” Peter asked mockingly.

“Yes, actually.” Harley replied. He had Peter beat in the cool bad boy department and they both knew it.

“Did you bring it?” You gasped and squeezed Harley’s arm.

“I did. You want to take a ride and go get some food?” He asked you.

“Yeah. Sure.” You smiled excitedly.

“You’re leaving?” Peter huffed like a little kid.

“You should come.” You replied. “You haven’t eaten yet. And we can show Harley around the neighborhood.”

“No, thank you. I need to finish this. By myself.” Peter grumbled as he stared daggers at Harley. Harley just smirked and gave Peter a shrug that said “better luck next time”.

“While you straddle a guitar players bike.” Peter mumbled under his breath.

“What was that?” You asked him.

“I said I hope the weather stays nice.” Peter lied through an exaggerated smile.

Peter tried to stay busy in the lab for a while but he couldn’t stop thinking about what you and Harley were doing. Your conversation did little to ease his mind about your history with Harley so now all he could think of was the worst case scenario. The image of you getting whisked away on the back of Harley’s bike with your arms wrapped around his waist was playing in Peter’s mind no matter how hard he wanted to push it out. You were probably laughing at all his jokes and leaning into his side at some restaurant. To clear his head, Peter went for a walk to clear his head. When he came back, he heard the sound of a guitar coming from your bedroom. His curiosity got the better of him and he went to your room to see what was happening. When he pushed your door open, he saw you and Harley sitting on your bed while the played the guitar for you.

“Oh. Sorry. Sorry to myself that I had to hear that. Wait, what? Sorry, what did you guys say?” Peter played dumb and looked between the two of you.

“We didn’t say anything.” You laughed and knew exactly what he was doing.

“I was just playing Y/n the song I wrote for her.” Harley told him.

“You wrote her a song? Well isn’t that just peaches and cream?” Peter smiled tightly.

“Yeah. Would you like it hear it?” Harley smiled innocently and strummed a few chords.

“It’s really good.” You said. “It’s about our friendship and always being there for each other despite living in different places.”

“Sounds really magical and effervescent. Didn’t realize your cycles synced up.” Peter said quickly but you still caught what he said.

“What was that?” You asked him.

“I said I would love to hear it so bad.” Peter lied. Harley started to play the beginning of the song but slowly stopped playing and cleared his throat.

“What’s wrong, Keen?” You asked, making Peter roll his eyes.

“I’m feeling shy all the sudden.” He laughed shyly.

“Really? Because of me?” Peter asked. “I thought you’d be used to singing to men. Because that’s who I assume is your target audience giving all the pins on your guitar strap.”

“No. Because of you, actually.” He admitted to you. “I haven’t played you the second chorus yet. And it’s pretty vulnerable.”

“Well, let me hear it.”

“Yeah. Let’s hear it. Let’s all hear it.” Peter said to remind you both that he was there. Harley smiled timidly at you before starting to play the song again.

“Though we’re miles apart, you’re still in my heart. Fought with paper swords when we were kids. I wish we still did.“ He sang in a smooth voice that even Peter had to admit was good. You looked utterly in love and rested your chin on your knee as you listened to him sing to you.

“The ribbons in your hair, playing truth or dare. We grew up too soon. Cause now I miss you.” Harley continued singing and you covered your face with your hands to hide your smile. Peter couldn’t take it anymore and felt himself losing the urge to interject.

“Do you guys ever think about how mozzarella sticks-“

“Peter! Shh.” You hushed Peter and quickly returned your attention to Harley.

“Now I live in a different city. I saw online that you’re still pretty. I text and ask how you’ve been. You send back Checkers but never win. I wish things didn’t have to change. Like when you went to a school far away. You came home but we were never as we were. I love you now but I sometimes miss her.” Harley slowly stopped strumming the strings and looked at you with a shy smile. You gasped and clapped your hands for him while he blushed a deep red.

“Sorry. I know it’s cheesy.” He said. “It’s about missing how close we were when we were kids. I know we still talk but it’s not the same. We catch up every now and then but I miss when I knew about every thing about your day.”

“That’s really sweet, Keen. We should talk more. Because I miss our friendship too.” You said and squeezed his shoulder. Harley smiled and toyed with his guitar.

“Peter, what did you think of…” You trailed off when you realized Peter wasn’t there anymore. You immediately felt guilty because you weren’t sure when he left.

“Damn it.” You hissed. “I gotta go talk to him.”

“No. Let me.” Harley said and put his guitar down. He walked down the hallway until he found Peter’s room and knocked on the doorway.

“Hey.” Harley greeted. Peter looked up at him and rolled his eyes.

“If you’re here to sing to me-“

“I’m not. I want to talk to you.” Harley cut him off and went and sat on his bed. They sat in awkward silence for a moment as neither knew where to begin.

“You know, if you and I keep this rivalry up, we’re only going to hurt her.” Harley said after a minute.

“I know that.” Peter said quietly.

“Look, Peter, you seem like a nice guy. I can tell why she likes you. And she obviously really enjoys your friendship. But that’s all that’s ever gonna happen between you two. A friendship. Because I’ve been playing the long game.” Harley said earnestly. He wasn’t trying to be mean or hurt Peter, just being candid.

“So have I.” Peter told him.

“And how’s that going for you?” Harley asked with genuine curiosity.

“I’ll have you know I accidentally brushed against her boob once and she didn’t even bat an eye, so.” Peter shrugged like what he said mattered.

“Yeah?” Harley laughed. “We’ve kissed.”

Peters world came crashing down in that moment. He felt a hot rod of jealousy pierce his heart and cut him straight down the middle upon learning this.

“What?” He asked with a dry mouth.

“I was her first kiss. She didn’t tell you?”

“No. She never mentioned that.”

“Peter, I didn’t come in here to hurt you.” Harley began. “I just wanted to let you know what my intentions are. I came back to New York for her. I think it’s finally time she and I give it a go. And I think she feels it too. But I hope that you and I can put this aside and become friends. Because I genuinely think we’d get along.”

“If you and her start dating, there is no way we’re gonna be friends.” Peter said without making eye contact.

“Why not?” Harley asked, sounding a little hurt.

“Because I’m gonna kill myself.” Peter snapped, making Harley laugh in surprise. Peter couldn’t help but laugh too when he heard how ridiculous he sounded.

“I hope you don’t. Because she’d miss you. And I would too.” Harley told him. The boys looked at each other for a moment and ending up smiling. Peter felt his animosity towards Harley dissipate and realized they were just two boys who liked the same girl. And on top of that, Peter couldn’t blame him for liking you. How could he not?

“Please don’t.” Peter blurted.

“Don’t what?” Harley wondered.

“Don’t go for her. You’re so handsome. Like, in your face, Greys Anatomy doctor level handsome. You have the bike and the guitar and the floppy hair. You could go out and get any girl. I will even help you find one. But please, don’t go for her. Because I can’t compete with you. I can’t write her a song like that. I tried to write her a poem once but I was too scared to give it to her.” Peter said as he pulled out his notebook to show Harley his poem. Harley read over the poem a few times as his eyebrows knit together.

“You rhymed “go the movies” with “the shape of your boobies”. Two separate times but they’re completely different trains of thought. I’m not even sure how you did that. This stanza just says “perchance.” You can’t just say “perchance”. And this line is just a lyric from Pound the Alarm.”

“Do you see why I need you to back off?” Peter sighed and took the notebook back.

“You don’t think I feel the same way? I can’t compete with you either. You get her in a weird way that I never could. I see the way she laughs at your jokes. And relaxes around you. She and I have shared history but sometimes I wonder if we’re just rehashing the good memories and never making any new ones. If she and I met today, I don’t know if she’d like me. But you two formed an organic friendship. There’s no wondering whether or not she likes you or just likes the nostalgia. And I know she adores you. She tells me about you all the time. I know every story of every person you’ve ever saved. But she loves the regular side of you too. She once told me about this time you got your finger stuck in a park bench and she was laughing so hard during it that I didn’t even hear half the story. Her real laugh, too. The one where her head falls back and she kinda wheezes. I haven’t been able to make her laugh like that since we were kids.”

“Okay unfortunately you’re right and I actually do want to be friends with you.” Peter said after hearing Harley be vulnerable with him. Harley chuckled and Peter found himself laughing too.

“Let’s just promise that whoever she chooses, the other backs off and lets her be happy. She deserves that.” Harley said and Peter nodded in agreement.

“If it’s you, you better treat her right.” Peter told him.

“Or what? You’ll shoot me with your fart gun?” Harley joked.

“Yeah. Exactly.” Peter laughed.

“I’ll take care of her. You would too. I know that.” Harley said once their laughter died down.

“I’m glad you know. But I’m not worried. She knows where home is. Sooner or later, she’ll stop eating shrimps with the wimps and come eat lobster with the monster.” Peter shrugged and gestured to himself.

“I don’t even understand what that-“

“Me either.” Peter cut him off.

After their talk, Harley went back to your room and found you playing with his guitar. You looked up at him when he walked in and smiled.

“Hey.” He said and sat back down beside you.

“Hey. I think I still remember how to play Hey There Delilah on the guitar.” You told him and gave a bad attempt at playing the chords.

“Do you?” Harley asked skeptically and you laughed.

“I guess not. How’s Peter?” You asked and set the guitar down.

“He’s fine. I don’t think he liked my song, through.” Harley joked.

“It’s okay. I liked it.” You replied and gave him a fold smile. Harley smiled back and took your hand in his. You gulped at the contact because you felt something was coming.

“I really do miss you.” He told you.

“Miss you too, Keen. You should visit more.”

“I know. But you need to give me a really good excuse to come up here because I’m not a fan of the flight.”

“What kind of excuse?” You smiled nervously. To answer your question, Harley slipped a hand behind your head and started to pull you into a kiss. Before your lips could touch, you turned away and hung your head so that you didn’t have to see his face.

“I can’t.” You said quietly. Harley withdrew his hand and put them on his lap.

“Because of him?” He asked and you nodded your head. Harley laughed shortly and nodded as well.

“I get it. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. But I have to admit, I always thought you and I would just go for it one day.”

“So did I.” You admitted.

“So why can’t we just…” He trailed off and gestured between the two of you. You finally looked into his eyes and gave him an apologetic smile.

“Because I’d always wonder about him.” You answered. Harley smiled sadly but nodded in understanding.

“Can we still be friends?” He asked you.

“Are you kidding? Of course we can. This doesn’t haven’t to change anything.”

“Good. Because I don’t have anyone else to play IMessage games with.”

“I’m sending Checkers right now. And winning.” You said as you pulled out your phone.

“We’ll see.” He laughed.

Peter slept at home that night in fear of hearing the sounds of you and Harley consummating your new relationship. He put his earbuds in and listened to his sad boy tunes and cried until he fell asleep. He got up the next day with puffy eyes and got dressed to prepare himself in case you wanted to see him. Just as he was getting up to leave him bedroom, you appeared in his doorway. He jumped a little and sat back down on his bed.

“Hey. I thought I’d see you last night.” You said and folded your arms.

“Yeah, sorry. I needed to come home and clear my head.” He said without looking at you.

“Oh, okay. Is it anything you want to talk about?”

“Not particularly, no.” He replied. You have Peter a look up and down and let out an amused laugh.

“What?” He wondered.

“You’re wearing skinny jeans.” You pointed out with a cheeky smile.

“Psht. No.” He scoffed. “These are regular jeans.”

“Those are absolutely your skinny jeans from when we went as Kurt and Blaine for Halloween. And you didn’t gel your hair today. Oh my God. You’re trying to look like Harley.”

“I am not.” He lied but upon looking in the mirror, he realized he had definitely channeled Harley when getting dressed.

“You are. Which I don’t understand. I like your gelled hair and dorky t shirts. Why are you trying to be someone else?” You asked as you sat beside him on his bed.

“I don’t know.” He lied again because he couldn’t tell you that he was trying to look like the boy you liked.

“Harley said he talked to you yesterday after he played his song.” You said to change the subject.

“Yeah. We talked. He mentioned that you guys kissed.” Peter admitted without looking up at you.

“Yeah. We did.” You nodded. Peter clenched his eyes shut at you confirmed it and hung his head.

“I didn’t know that.” He said quietly.

“Because it was so awkward that I never tell anyone. We were like 11 or something and acting in a very poorly rehearsed summer camp rendition of Grease. I was Sandy and he was Danny. But my dad brought all his business man friends to come see me and I got so nervous I threw up during Hopelessly Devoted.”

“Oh.” Peter couldn’t help but smile now that he knew the kiss was nothing to worry about.

“Yeah. You feel stupid now, don’t you? You got all worked up over a peck between two 11 year olds.”You teased him and poked his aide.

“I may feel stupid but at least I wasn’t a theater kid.” He mumbled.

“Hey.” You said warningly and smacked his arm.

“Sorry.” He chuckled and rubbed his arm.

“So are we okay?” You asked him and turned to face him.

“I don’t know. Is your boyfriend gonna be okay with us staying friends?” Peter asked with a roll of his eyes.

“Well I don’t know either. Since I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You don’t?” Peter asked as hope grew in his chest.

“Peter, I don’t like Harley like that.” You insisted. “I told you that.”

“I thought you were capping.” He shrugged.

“I wasn’t.” You chuckled. “He’s not the one I like.”

“So you do like someone? Who is he? Is he bigger than me?” Peter asked with his jealously coming back with full force.

“Oh my God. You’re honestly so annoying.” You groaned and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. Peter wasn’t expecting this so he froze for a moment before kissing you back. He’d been waiting a long time for this so he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you close and full enjoy the moment. When you pulled away, you both laughed shyly and rested your foreheads together.

“Was that just as friends or…” Peter trailed off and looked at you for answers.

“Uh huh. Yeah. That was a friendship kiss.” You replied sarcastically before pulling him back in.

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[sweatervest-obsessed]

Hangovers and Hickeys

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: no idea rn lmao probably like 700

A/N: some Spence content before the new year (on the western calendar). Hope you all get to enjoy the day!

“Good morning sunshine.”

You winced at the sheer volume of his voice. “If I could, id shove you off of the roof Derek Morgan.”

“Fun night?”

You snorted and finally lifted your head off of the desk. “You should be a profiler.”

That caused Derek to laugh, which made you wince and close your eyes. The sunglasses perched on your nose were supposed to be helping. They weren’t.

“That’s a nice hickey you got there.”

You grunted in response and tried to adjust your sweater collar so it would cover the hickey you missed this morning when you didn’t look in the mirror. You had basically rolled out of bed, and into your car to make sure you got to work on time.

“Who gave it to you?” “Why don’t you use your super duper profiling skills to deduce it or whatever Sherlock shit you wanna do.”

Derek snorted and shook his head. ”or you could just….tell me.”

“Don’t worry about it Derek.” You grumbled.

When Derek realized he wasn’t going to get any answers out of you about it, he decided he was going to change tactics.

“Moving on from Boy Wonder?” It was no secret that you had a crush on a certain nerdy doctor. And so Derek tried to use this knowledge to his advantage.

You crossed your arms and just raised your eyebrows. “I’m not dignifying that with a response,”

“Pretty sure that was my answer.” He chuckled, sitting down in his chair and swiveling to look at you.

When you decided to just ignore Derek, and face your desk, he piped up again. “Where is he anyways?” “No idea.”

It was like he was waiting for his cue from you. Spencer pushed open the doors to the bull pen and strolled in. He had his purple scarf around his neck, over his new coat that Henry (JJ) had gotten him for Christmas. It was a beautiful grey pea coat that kept him warm during these freezing winter months. Spender was carrying a tray with two coffees on it and what seemed like a bag from McDonalds, which seemed to be for you, since he was headed in your direction.

The smell of the food caused you to groan with joy and smile at the man walking towards you.

“My knight in shining armor.” You muttered as he placed the whole tray in front of you. You placed a kiss on his cheek hasilty, causing him to blush a little.

“I got hashbrowns from both McDonald’s and Dunkin’, a little smorgasbord of grease for your pallet.” He whispered before taking one of the cups out of the tray.

“I’m going to marry you Doctor Spencer Reid.” You muttered, digging into the bag and pulling out one of the McDonald’s hash browns and biting into it. The groan you let out leaned a little on the pornographic side, which made Derek raise his eyebrows at the sound you let out, and then at tinge of pink on Spencer’s cheeks.

You continued eating, clueless about the silent interrogation happening to your left, enjoying every single bite and sip of your hangover cure.

“Derek I can hear you thinking and it’s making my head throb.”

Derek’s eyes snapped back to you, as your figure swiveled in the chair to face him, casually munching on some of the fries, in a completely different mood then from two minutes ago before Spencer had walked in the room.

“Sorry your highness. I’m just curious as to why Boy Genius here is bringing you hangover cures.”

“Well it’s his fault I’m this fucked up so he owes me.” You grumbled, swiveling around in your chair to face your desk. You pulled your lap top out of your canvas bag and started to set up for your work day.

“Wha-how is it his fault.”

That’s when Spencer turned bright red and tried to change the conversation, or at least get out of it. “I—well it’s not…I….hotch is…”

Spencer basically ran across the bullpen and up the stairs to Hotch’s office, avoiding the conversation he almost just had.

“I don’t think you wanna know.” You smirked and bit into the muffin from Dunks that Spencer had got you, not looking at the man behind you.

“I’m starting to think that too.” His eyes narrowed and he looked between where Spencer had run off to, and you.

Something was going on between the two of you, and Derek Morgan was going to figure it out.

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[angels-fantasy]

hi! i was wondering if you could do a bakugou x reader where the reader went to the states to visit family and as a surprise the reader came back on an earlier flight but something bad happened to the flight she was supposed to go on but thank god she wasn’t on it and bakugou thought the worst when she wasn’t responding to her texts but it turned out all okay in the end? sorry if that’s vague 😭😭

Flight Frights (Request)

Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Details/Warnings: katsuki gets a little emotional in this one, slight talks of death but nothing crazy

Word Count: 1.7k

hello thank you for this request :)) it was enough for me to work with so dont worry! i hope you like it 🩷

"You sure you got everything?" Your boyfriend asked for the millionth time.

You rolled your eyes. "Yes, I have everything. You can even double check my bags!" You insisted.

He squinted and began looking through each of your bags silently. After a few minutes you looked at him smugly, "Are you going to tell me how perfect I am and that I didn't forget a single thing?"

Katsuki smirked, "Nah, I was gonna say you forgot your brain somewhere." He teased and gripped the top of your head lightly.

You smacked his hand away, "You're not funny, Katsuki." You laugh, despite your words.

"Yes I am and you know it."

The two of you continued to spend time together until it was time for you to go to the airport. You were visiting your parents in the states, so Katsuki was going to drive you to the airport and send you off.

When the time to go to the airport came, he drove you there and waited with you until you boarded the plane, which you felt bad about but appreciated a lot.

Some time later, a boarding announcement for your flight rang out loud through the speakers and you frowned at Katsuki.

"I'm gonna miss you." You said and hugged him tightly.

He hugged you back, "Yeah, I know."

"Stop it! Be serious."

He laughed and apologized, "I'll miss you too. Be safe on the plane and everywhere else, and don't talk to any fucking weirdos okay?"

You nodded and gave him a kiss, saying goodbye.

...

The time spent at your parents went well and you called and texted Katsuki as much as you could but it was hard, considering the time difference.

But like always, you managed to make it work.

As your trip neared it's end, your mother asked you if you were going to take the later flight like you planned.

"Jeez Mom. You trying to get rid of me already?" You teased her, making her pout at you.

"Oh stop it. You know that's not what I mean."

You smiled and said, "I know, it's just fun to mess with you," with a laugh, "but nah, I think I'm gonna take the earlier flight actually. I wanna surprise Katsuki, even if it's just a few hours earlier."

Your mom smiled at you, "That's sweet of you. I wish he could've come along with you..." She trailed off, making you a little jealous that your mom was wishing someone else came along too.

You crossed your arms, "Yeah well, he's busy with hero work, so he couldn't." You excused, "And besides, you should be glad it's just me! I missed you and Dad."

She smiled and patted your head. "Well of course I'm glad you're here! But I know you two must miss each other a lot. I know what it's like to be in love." She winked, and coincidentally your father walked in at the same time.

You both greeted him and continued talking about mundane things. You only had two days left with your parents, so you wanted to make them count more than the previous ones.

...

Fast forward to the day of your flight. Your parents took you to the earliest one at 5:00 am and said good bye to you, but not without some tears.

After sending you off with a lot of love, you were now on your way back home. You felt weird not texting your boyfriend about what you were doing, but you were still excited to surprise him. You wondered how he'd react.

You were a little nervous about how he'd react to you not answering his messages, since you wouldn't be able to text him regularly during the whole flight. Maybe he'd think you were sleeping in, since it was a likely scenario.

Ignoring your thoughts, you looked out the window at the raining sky and decided to fall asleep, hoping it would make the trip go by faster and thankfully it did.

...

Back in Japan 5 hours later

Katsuki had been on his phone mindlessly scrolling through his feed when suddenly a video caught his attention. It was a recent news post about a plane crash coming back to Japan from America.

"The flight had taken off at 10:00 am, and an hour into the flight the plane experienced a high amount of turbulence due to the unexpected weather conditions. Suddenly, the plane went crashing down-"

The news now had all of Katsuki's attention. He felt his heart racing in his chest and the world went silent, only the sound of his beating heart now filling his ears.

The plane that had crashed, was the flight you were on.

He felt as if time was slowing down as he watched the news. The news reporters had been describing just how bad the accident was, and he felt like he couldn't breathe.

There was no way you were hurt or even dead, right? You had to come back home to him. He had so many plans for your future. There's no way he'd be able to live life knowing he'd never get to act on them.

He grabbed his phone and clicked on your contact to call you but it went straight to voicemail. It was just because you had it on airplane mode right? They always make people turn that shit on.

He called again and again until he thought he was going to go crazy at the sound of the automated system's voice. He threw his phone across the bedroom and rubbed his hands through his sweaty hair.

After taking a few deep breaths, he got up and walked over to where his phone was and picked it up. Turning it over, he sighed at the large crack on the screen.

"Fuck..." He mumbled. Whatever. His phone didn't matter right now. What mattered was you and your safety. That damn phone was replaceable, but you weren't.

He continued to use his phone to call your mom, who was confused at his phone call.

"Hello Katsuki!" Your mother said.

"Hey, um-" He cut himself off to hold back tears. Fuck did your parents even know about what happened? Your mom sounded so happy, he didn't want to ruin it.

"Katsuki?" Your mother asked in a worried tone, "You okay, dear?"

He nodded, even though she couldn't see him. He wiped his eyes, "I'm fine. I was just calling to ask about Y/n."

"Oh! She should be fine. We dropped her off at the airport a while ago, so she's on her way back to you."

Holy crap. Your mom didn't even know about what happened. He couldn't tell her, there was no way. All he could do was thank her and hang up before he began to cry.

"God dammit." He cried.

Katsuki had never felt so defeated and devastated before. He continued to sit on your shared bed, eventually laying down in it and crying out for you. He didn't know what condition you were in right now, but like he was trained to do, he assumed the worse.

...

Hours later, you were finally off that cramped plane and on your way home. You couldn't wait to see Katsuki and the look on his face when you surprised him.

As you were driven home in an Uber, you were on your phone when a news report popped up. Curious, you clicked on it and found out that it was about the flight you were supposed to be on.

You put a hand over your mouth and thanked every god there was that you ended up on a different plane.

You closed the news article and focused on something else to distract you until you got home.

When you finally did, you giddily ran up the steps to your home and opened the door as quietly as you could. It was pretty early in Japan, so maybe Katsuki was still asleep.

Pulling in your luggage behind you, you took your shoes off and scampered around the house to look for your boyfriend. The house was so quiet, which was strange since his presence was so loud.

Tip-toeing into your bedroom, you awed silently at the sight of him sleeping. You snapped a quick picture and walked over to him, sitting on the bed next to him.

You reached out and stroked the top of his head, lightly scratching his scalp to wake him up. You frowned a bit when you noticed how irritated his eyes seemed. Maybe spring was getting to him already.

"Katsuki, wake up." You whispered.

He grumbled a bit in his sleep, shifting around a bit before finally opening his eyes.

You smiled and held one of his hands in both of yours, "Surprise! I'm home early."

He looked at you with a sleep clouded gaze for a second, and then shot up in bed.

"You're okay?! Oh my fucking god." He said and wrapped his arms around you in a bone crushing hug.

You hugged him back, "Of course I'm okay! Why wouldn't I be?"

He rested his face in the crook of your neck and said, "I-I thought you were hurt. I saw the news about the flight and it crashed!"

You frowned and hugged him tighter, "Oh Katsuki... I'm so sorry I didn't tell you anything." You pulled away slightly and placed your hands on his face, "I wanted to surprise you, so I got on an earlier flight."

He sighed and leaned his forehead onto yours, "Thank fuck you did. I would've brought you back to life and killed you myself if you died." He said, making you laugh now that his personality seemed to be back.

"Now cuddle me." He demanded and wrestled you lightly to lay you down next to him.

You gasped at his words, "Did you just admit you want to cuddle me?" You asked.

"Of course I do, woman. I haven't seen your ass in weeks." He said and laid his head on your chest, wrapping an arm around your waist, lightly stroking the skin there.

You moved around, trying to get into a comfortable position which made Katsuki groan.

He pinched one of your thighs, making you yelp, "Stop squirming. We're going to bed now."

You smiled, "Sorry love," and messed with his hair. "Can I put on a movie Kats?"

"Mmm."

You took that as a yes.

As you watched the movie, you continued massaging Katsuki's scalp and playing with his hair which made him eventually fall asleep. You smiled down at him, happy that he was now at peace compared to earlier.

authors note

thank you for reading <3

btw for people who have sent a request, i'm working on it i promise! it's just happening a little slower since i'm sick lol

love ya 🩷

tags for bakugou fics: @doumadono @shonen-brainrot

#@angels-fantasy #fanfiction #fanfic #anime #bakugou katsuki #writers on tumblr #my hero academia #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou x you

[imaginesmai]

Missed target - Azriel

Here it is! So many people asked to be tagged on this I got OVERWHELMED. Thanks for the love!I'm thinking about a second part where Azriel decides to repeat all the missed efforts and treat you like the queen you are. Let me know what you think.

Plot: Azriel is convinced Elain was made for him. Three sisters for three brothers, and no one can make him change his mind. But someone or something is determinated to change the course of fate on his behalf. No matter how hard he tries.

The Suriel 1

The Suriel watched the shadowsinger sharpen his blades in the forest, oblivious to his presence. Not even his shadows could detect the ancient creature, and he was proud of that. Of all the beings that he had seen, all the people that had summoned him, Azriel was who drew his curiosity.

Maybe the male in front of him didn’t remember, or maybe he did but had decided not to tell a soul about it. The Suriel did remember, and he had been observing since that night where a young, scarred and devasted Azriel had summoned him.

“What is wrong with me? Why does nobody love me? I want to know – I want to know if someone will love me, please”

The child didn’t understand what a Suriel was, or what type of questions he could answer. Still, the Suriel held the sobbing kid for one night, just one night, and let himself wonder what would it be to feel, to dream, like fae and humans did.

Something changed in the male’s stance, a muscle twitching in his left wing, and the Suriel knew he didn’t have much time left before he was noticed. He risked another glance at the unmoving figure, shadows surrounding the clearing where he stood.

As he vanished from the sight, the Suriel smiled briefly, oddly happy that that kid’s broken questions were about to be answered.

Missed date

Azriel liked Elain, more than he should. He liked her innocence, the way her hair fell over her shoulder, her full lips and thin waist. He liked the dresses she wore and the flowers she grew, even the way her voice sounded when she said his name. He liked liked her, and felt like a foolish teen when she was around.

Rhysand had warned him against it, and the Archeron sister had a mate – but still, Azriel hoped Elain would like him back. Even though he had been with plenty of women before, that time it felt different, and he didn’t know why.

Ignoring the signs against his desires, he had decided to act on his feelings.

Azriel had invited Elain to have dinner with him that night, in a lovely restaurant in Velaris. Sure, he might have said Cassian and Nesta were coming, and then proceeded to invite the couple knowing they wouldn’t even make it out of the bedroom with their clothes on. The plan had gone just fine – Cassian and Nesta had talked about it during lunch time, giving the impression it was just a friendly dinner, and then proceeded to lock themselves in their room for the rest of the day. Elain had smiled and asked about the hour, and Azriel had chosen his best shirt.

But the Cauldron musth have had other plans, because another minute passed by and he was sitting by himself in the restaurant, getting strange looks from the staff.

“Are you ready to order?”

He looked up to the waiter, with a tight smile on his face. Azriel guessed they were debating if kicking him out was worth angering the spymaster of the court.

“Still waiting” he grumbled, looking to the closed doors. “What time is it?”

“Nine thirty, sir. Would you like to… drink something?”

“Water is fine”

They had agreed to meet at nine, and part of him refused to think he had been stood up. That sweet, charming Elain who blushed under his gaze wouldn’t show up. He tried to come up with a reason behind her absence, and was sure there was a reasonable one, but he felt his excitement die as the clock ticked away.

Azriel pursed his lips when the waiter didn’t leave, not meeting his eyes. He would leave, but he would wait a little longer. For her sake, he would wait until the sun came up. The male cleared his throat and Azriel stared at the plants decorating the entrance.

It was a nice plant.

“Is the person you’re waiting for coming soon?”

“If she was, I wouldn’t be waiting here” his words were bitter, not towards the waiter, but at the situation.

“Maybe you could move to the counter and wait there, sir? I… there are customers waiting and – “

Before the man could dig his own grave further, Azriel pushed his chair back and walked towards said counter with his jacket on his arm. He refused to look at the waiter and let him know just how embarrassed he was, how disappointed in himself and in her.

The restaurant had a small counter where some couples shared their food and friends drank loudly. He damned his luck for choosing the busiest day to be stood up. Scanning the crowd, he found an empty seat at the corner and sat on a stool, ordering a beer.

Alcohol would only make it worse, but he guessed he was already done for. Ten more minutes, he promised himself. If Elain didn’t walk through those doors in the next ten minutes, he would leave and apologize to Rhys for his stubbornness.

Two minutes passed by, and he grew sick of watching the couple in front of him giggling in secrets.

Another three, and he counted each plant that decorated the restaurant. There were twenty-five without the artificial ones.

Seven minutes after his first beer, the waiter asked him if he wanted anything else and he just growled back.

His fingers were clenching painfully around the hem of his jacket when the ten minutes passed by. He was ready to get up when something sweet and floral hit his nose, leaving his mind blank for a second. Azriel blinked surprised at the smell, distinct from the elegant ones in the restaurant. With half smile, he turned to his right hoping to see Elain, pleasantly surprised with her choice of perfume.

Only that the woman who sat next to him wasn’t Elain, but another fae woman with a similar smell. Azriel scanned her outfit before you noticed him, before he could reprimand himself for checking you out.

You were wearing a loose blue and bright skirt with an elegant top, that left part of your collarbone visible. He felt something rush to his chest up to his cheeks while he stared at the smooth skin, and he willed himself to look up to your face.

“Guess this is where they discard the stood up, hm?” you looked at him and he blinked surprised. “I’ve been sitting next to the window for an hour now. I don’t think he’s showing up”

“Who?” Azriel asked dumbly, not thinking anything better.

“My friend set me up on a blind date, but he didn’t show up. At least the bread was good” you shrugged, finally looking away from Azriel. “Hi. Can I get a soda?”

Azriel felt his previous resolution of leaving the restaurant dissolve. You smelt just like her, but so different at the same time. Your voice still reverberated on his chest as you waited for your drink, stealing glances at the silent male at your side. It was strange for him to have his throat swallowing back the words that he wanted to say, have his mind blank of any comeback.

But as he stared at you, he wondered if you were a witch and had casted a spell on him.

“Are you… my date?” you finally asked when your soda came back, looking him up and down. “I’ve seen you standing here for a while”

“I’m Azriel”

“I don’t know the name of my date” you stated, and Azriel just prayed that you wouldn’t notice the shadows he couldn’t control revolving around your feet. “I’m Y/N”

“No”

He begged himself to say something else, to break the awkward silence or leave. After all, he had gone to that restaurant to meet Elain, not a stranger who had been stood up. But all the wit and intelligence that had won him the title of Shadowsinger and Spymaster seemed to seep away through his pores, and he couldn’t get back any of it.

You smiled at him tightly and turned to look around, finally breaking eye contact. Azriel got up without saying anything else and walked towards the doors, leaving a generous amount of money on the counter. You didn’t say goodbye and he didn’t bother looking back, his body stiff with your awkward encounter.

When he arrived to the house, he found a very regretful and very sick Elain who had been in bed all afternoon. She apologized again and again until he forced her back in bed and tucked her in. They agreed they would repeat again, sometime, but Azriel found himself less excited than that morning. He didn’t blame her – he couldn’t, when he had seen how her knees trembled with coughs and had heard her stuffy voice.

As he laid down that night in this enormous bed, his shadows didn’t whisper about Elain or brought back her smell, that most nights didn’t let him sleep. They caressed his hands in silence, with the memory of a sweet, floral smell that didn’t belong to the girl he liked.

The market

Rhysand and Cassian were away for a week, and while Azriel usually missed his brothers, that time he was beyond himself. Not only he wouldn’t be hearing Nesta and Cassian’s late-night activities, but he would be alone with his favorite Archeron sister, since Feyre and Nesta had decided to leave too.

There were plans for them, big ideas that he had crafted the previous night as he laid awake in the dark. The first one, most important, would be to find an excuse to talk to Elain.

She had left for the market as Azriel completed his morning training, and the male didn’t miss how she blushed at his presence. She had explained briefly her plans to him and had left in a rush. Azriel, who religiously trained each day, decided to postpone his activities and refill the house’s pantry.

It took him a while to come up with something to buy, even longer to gather the courage to follow his plan. By the time he was walking through the lively market-street, he was certain Elain would be leaving.

But he was lucky, because he spotted the familiar head a few stands away. Azriel felt the usual acceleration of his heart rhythm, the blood rushing to his head. His wings fluttered and he walked with little decision to where Elain was buying some fruits.

It seemed, with so little decision, that she moved away before he could reach him.

The game of cat and mouse continued for what felt like forever, Azriel only sniffling her before she left to a new stand. The street seemed endless, and the buyers too talkative and pushy. They bumped against his wings, apologized, and proceeded to block his way in awe for five to ten seconds.

When he saw Elain holding enough bags to cause him a backpain, he decided pushing people in return was worthy and walked faster.

Before she could complain, he picked up her bags from her arms carefully, resisting the urge of flinching at how heavy they were.

“Here, let me” Azriel extended his free arm, watching without looking up as it filled slowly with more bags. “These are heavy. What do we need so much food for?”

“Are you planning to eat it with me?”

Azriel looked up and stared into a pair of bright eyes that certainly weren’t Elain’s. Nor was your hair pulled back in a ribbon, or the worn-out cape hanging from your frame. His shadows helpfully recognized you from the missed date and awkward encounter, and he blinked surprised.

He opened and closed his mouth. Proudly, he could argue that only few times someone managed to make him speechless. But he didn’t find anything to say as he held half of your bags, looking a caught thief.

Your smile lowered at his surprise. Surely, you expected a kind stranger helping you with your heavy groceries, not him. Just as he didn’t expect you.

“Can I… have that back?” you asked when he didn’t move, only stared at you. “Please?”

The standard, cordial reaction would have been to apologize and carry the bags for you. If Azriel’s brain hadn’t stopped functioning, he would have explained he had confused you with someone else and would be on his merry way to find Elain.

But his heart wouldn’t stop beating stubbornly against his chest, loudly on his ears. His shadows, that you had noticed by now, were tangling themselves between your knees, holding part of the weight themselves.

He tried not to make it too obvious when he inhaled your essence, so characteristically nice. Instead of doing any of the rational things, he dropped your bags to the ground with a loud crack and a wet splash and turned around, disappearing into the crowd.

The flowers

Feyre had given him the directions, and he had quickly written them on a piece of paper as his high-lady prepared Nyx’s bottle, cradled the fussy baby and ate her own breakfast.

He was extremely thankful for her help, because she had also had the idea to give Elain a bouquet of flowers. Azriel felt bad about ignoring her for the two days they were alone, too busy trying to regain what was left of his dignity after the market. So, he had prepared the flowers and put them together with a blue ribbon, and had asked Feyre where Elain was staying.

He had walked through the streets of Velaris with a content smile, humming to himself in silence. His shadows were active that morning, dancing between his feet and knees, and tangling themselves in the flowers. He couldn’t explain the sudden urge of joy if not for the imminent encounter with Elain, who had been on his mind for two days straight.

The rays of sun warmed his cheeks, and he felt extremely lucky.

It only took him ten minutes to reach his destination, a busy street in the center of the town. People sneaked glances at him and whispered, as if he wouldn’t hear them. Azriel stopped in front of a white wooden door. It looked old and worn, and matched the pots with flowers on the window. It was a cozy house, exactly what Azriel had imagined Elain’s house to be.

She had moved out a few months ago, claiming she needed her own space. And he had yet to visit her place – which, once he realized he was about to do it for the first time, made him kind of nervous.

Azriel stood in front of the door, his frame covering the whole space. Between his shoulders and wings he shadowed it, and he felt weirdly insecure. Something fell to the ground inside, probably a bag, and even though he knew Elain would be inside, Azriel recoiled back.

In a pathetic attempt to make his intention known, he raised his fist.

Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.

Don’t throw them on her like a burning pot.

Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.

Try to smile without looking creepy.

Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.

He heard soft humming from the inside, and the fact that it was the exact same melody he had been humming on his way there threatened to give him a heart attack. Before he could think better, he quickly searched his pocket for a pen while trashing for the tag of the bouquet.

In the meantime, he heard the humming coming closer and closer to the door. It was a sweet melody, one he had loved since he was a kid, that brought a selfish smile to his face. Who was the world to tell him they weren’t meant to be, if their minds aligned like that?

Azriel found the pen and, leaning against the brick wall, scribbled down a quick note on the tag. His handwritten was shaky, not neat nor perfect, and he felt a bead of sweat rolling down the corner of his neck.

Once he was finished, he tucked the tag between the stems and placed the bouquet delicately on the ground. He mentally kicked himself at his stupidity, and when he rose back, he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

He was the shadowsinger. The spymaster. People feared him, respected him, and he had had enough women in his bed to know he could get them. They liked him, men and women, and he had never had an issue before. And there he was, leaving a bouquet of flowers like a coward because he couldn’t knock.

All because of the stupid melody.

His impulsive thoughts won again and he crouched to write down his name at the bottom of the note. Only having his good luck ran out and knock his head against a pot when he rose back up. Azriel cursed under his breath at the sharp pain, but wasn’t fast enough to catch the pot.

He didn’t know what worried him most – that he was sad because the humming stopped, or that it stopped. Azriel didn’t need his fae hearing or shadows to hear the approaching steps, and he quickly retreated into the darkness. Just as he appeared in the other corner of the streets, hidden from the public’s eye, the door opened.

“Hello?”

Azriel let his lips part in surprise when Elain didn’t peer at the street, but you. The stranger with a memorizing smell that had been stood up. The girl whose bags he had dropped in the middle of the street.

You were wearing a stained apron, and had been clearly cooking. Azriel felt the sudden need to know what. What you were doing that made you look like that, that made Azriel’s rebellious heart jump.

He watched as you looked to both sides of the street, smiling to acquittances and finally noticing the bouquet. Your eyebrows almost rose to your hairline and an adorable shade of pink covered your chest. You quickly covered your mouth, but Azriel’s bones reverberated at the sound of your giggle. He found himself wondering if you were curling your toes in your shoes.

Leaning down, you picked the flowers and Azriel’s stupid smile, that had no right to be on his face, dropped.

He had signed it.

Your eyes scanned the tag and read through his words at a sickening speed. Sorry about last week, hope I wasn’t too much of a dick. Yours, Azriel

His shadows swallowed him before he could ask the Cauldron to dig a hole and swallowed him, but he could still see your content smile and have the utter and complete realization that your smile shadowed Elain’s.

The dance

“When have you ever cleaned up so nice?” Cassian asked him as he invaded his room, with no warning.

“Whenever you’re not around to see it” he answered back, not tearing his eyes away from his tie’s knot on the mirror. “So I don’t eclipse you”

Cassian scoffed and threw himself on the perfectly made bed. Azriel didn’t bother asking him to move, because while any other time he would have kicked him out, his bed was the farthest point from his work desk. Where, between patrol reports and court’s correspondence, were a month’s worth of letters between you two.

His hands trembled even more at the thought of his brother finding about it. He was already nervous enough at the premise of dancing with Elain tonight, at the thought of her wearing the bracelet he had sent her that matched his tie. Azriel didn’t need to think about the pointless, certainly not important letters that he shared with you.

“Nesta has kicked me out of our room” the male proclaimed. “She’s determinated to get to the ball on time. As if me not seeing her now would change our early departure”

“You’re disgusting” Azriel met his brother’s stare through the mirror.

“And you’re jealous. When was the last time you got laid?” Cassian raised her eyebrows suggestibly. “Anyone in mind for this particularly night?”

“Nesta, if you leave her unsatisfied”

“Can it be me if I’m unsatisfied?”

Cassian’s laugh boomed through the room and took Azriel’s mind out of the last hours’ frenzy. He had wanted to be excited, had been thinking about Feyre’s birthday ball for months now. Thinking about how Elain and him would dance, proving Rhysand that they were a match and should be together.

Indeed, Azriel had been excited about it until a month ago. When he found himself cutting his encounters with Elain short when a note came through, falling asleep with thoughts of a different woman on his mind.

He hadn’t seen you since the incident of the flowers, and his intention was to never see you again. But then, he had found a note on his training room, delivered by Nuala. I’m glad we both agree you were a dick that day, but if my forgiveness has you loosing nights of sleep, I forgive you. Although, for the next time, don’t be disappearing from a crime scene – those flowers were expensive.

Azriel had found it and had scoffed a laugh, a sound foreign to his ears. He had replied and had sent Nuala back to your house, with an apologetic smile.

Seems that I keep encountering you when I don’t mean to. Those flowers were for someone else, but I’m happy to hear that I will be sleeping soundly from now on. Sorry for your pot. If it makes you feel better, fate was my witness and gifted me with a nasty bump.

Two notes evolved to another two, then to four more, and suddenly, Azriel found himself sending you noted almost every day, sharing stupid facts and reading about your day.

“Is it because Elain?”

The mood was broken and shattered at the word of the fae, and Azriel finished his knot to turn and look at Cassian.

“Don’t judge me. I’m not Rhys ‘don’t you dare to touch my sis-in-law’ or Mor ‘bad choices are made’” Cassian lifted his arms slightly. “I’m just curious”

“Am I cleaning up nice for my high-lady and friend’s birthday ball? Yes, unlike you, I do care about having a clean presence” he looked down to his jacket. “Your shirt is stained with Nesta’s lipstick”

“Oh, I plan to let her stain more than my shirt” he chuckled.

Azriel rolled his eyes and turned towards the door without saying anything else.

He walked with Cassian through the long hallways until they reached the main hall, talking about training and pointless topics. The usual knot on his stomach loosened a bit when he was with him, even if he wouldn’t say it out loud. He knew Cassian only looked for him in those social events for his sake – because he knew how much Azriel struggled with the attention, with the looks.

For the first minutes, he stood by his side silently as Cassian greeted different people that Azriel didn’t want to talk with. He engaged short conversations with his family, laughed softly at Mor’s attempt of escaping with the wine, and entertained Nyx briefly.

He kept looking at the main doors, waiting for Elain to walk through so he could regain that excitement, that want, that seemed to seep through his fingers lately.

When the first dance started, Rhysand took Feyre’s hand and dragged her through the floor, looking like a regius couple. Mor took a giggling Nyx in her arms and danced in the corner, and Cassian used the opportunity to sneak with Nesta.

Azriel quickly found himself in the middle of dancing couples, and he swore the knot of his tie got tighter. He looked around for Elain, tried to identify her sweet smell or long hair, but he didn’t find her.

“She’s not coming, you know?” Amren’s voice appeared to her right, and he turned to find her leaning against a wall.

“Who’s not coming?”

“Elain” she explained. “She left yesterday with Lucien to get to know his court. Thought you, of all people, should know”

Had he been so out of it that he hadn’t notice it? Had he tried so hard to think about her that he hadn’t talked to her? He tried to think of a conversation where Elain told him that she wouldn’t be assisting, but he realized that he hadn’t talked to her in the last few days.

Actually, he had just sent the bracelet and guessed she would wear it. Part of his excitement wore down at the news, and he regretted agreeing to the ball.

Amren raised a brow at his fallen expression.

“Are you still after her, boy? Knowing she has a mate?” she inquired. “Thought you were smarter than that”

“You don’t understand. None of you do” he said, trying to sound angry. Trying to sound convinced, as convinced as he had been when he met her, but his voice sounded deflected.

“Maybe we don’t, but don’t fool yourself thinking the Cauldron makes mistakes. You’re not above its power”

Azriel scoffed at the answer he had heard before too many times, and faced away from Amren. She could try to convince him all she wanted, but his mind was up. As he walked out of the room, evading dancing couples, he forced the disappointment down his chest, where most of his feelings lay forgotten.

Of course she wouldn’t come. Of course, all those glances meant she was nervous around him, not reciprocated feelings. Of course, someone like Azriel wouldn’t end up with someone like her.

He loosened his tie briefly as he exited the ball, only to stop close to the entrance. He looked back at his family, dancing happily in the main floor. Even Amren, who didn’t dance, talked with a content half-smile to Varian, who had attended in behalf of his court.

Through all his centuries, all he had wanted was to have someone to dance with. To hold while the world fell apart, not to endure it on his own. Azriel felt a rebel knot climb to his throat, making the sight in front of him blurry.

Like a fool, he had thought Elain would be that person. After Mor, he thought he had found his person. Azriel looked once more to the ball before hastily turning around and colliding full force with a person entering the ball.

“Damnit!”

“Careful – “

Azriel didn’t get to stop the body falling to the ground, and he almost fell right above it. He gathered his footing back before he could cause more damage, and looked down to the incomer.

Something in his chest cracked when he saw the color of the dress pooling in the ground, the same one he wore on his loosened tie. The exact same color in the bracelet now forgotten in Elain’s room, that he had chosen so carefully and thoughtfully. He blinked past the initial shock and muttered an apologetic smile, offering his hand.

His eyes traveled up the wrinkled but beautiful dress to an exposed cleavage adorned with a simple blue gem. He didn’t register the similarities with his own siphons when his eyes met yours, both widened at the same time.

Centuries of waiting, of uncertainty, were suddenly nothing when the bond snapped loud in his soul. It rattled his bones and threatened to send him to the ground too.

“Y/N” he whispered, the room around him quietened. It was the first time he said your name out loud, and it felt divine on his lips. “What…?”

“Hm, Feyre’s birthday” you accepted his hand and let him pull you up, and he almost sent you crashing against his chest. “She invited me”

“That’s good”

Your eyes didn’t leave his for a while, as the bond settled for the two of you. Something had called you when you saw that dress, hanging beautifully in the window’s shop. You never wore that color, never attended to those parties. But the premise of seeing the owner of the notes you had been receiving lately, who your friends were tired of hearing about, was too appealing.

Somehow, buying that dress, coming late to the ball because of pointless delays, felt like a trick of fate.

“The bond” Azriel supplied uselessly, and you nodded for moral support way too enthusiastically.

“Yeah. It’s… here” you pressed your free hand against your chest, squeezing the one trapped in Azriel’s warm grip. “I didn’t think it would feel like this”

“It feels right”

Azriel couldn’t explain what had been missing until now. A void that had lived for so long in a place he couldn’t reach that now pulsated loudly where he needed it. He expected to be nervous, to be overjoyed, but above all of that, Azriel felt calm. At peace with himself as he stared into your eyes.

Time didn’t exist and the rest of the world was insignificant, only you mattered. And he could have spent an eternity looking at you if you hadn’t taken the first step and hugged him. If he thought the snapping bond was intense, your body against him robbed his breath.

His hand moved by itself to the back of your head, fingers tangling between your locks and pressing your face closer to him. The other arm rounded your waist, until you both belonged together like one soul.

The song ended and you looked up from his arms. With a small smile, you looked down at the loosened tie.

“Would you like to dance?”

Azriel nodded quickly and turned his back to the exit, your hand in his. People stared, his family looked at him, but all he could see was how blind he had been not to notice you were what was missing.

The Suriel 2

In the busy morning, few people stopped to see what lurked in the shadows of Velaris. They walked and rushed to their meeting points, talked with friends and families in the corners, and enjoyed the sunny day in the square. They all held interesting stories, futures that the Suriel fed on.

But he didn’t look at any of them. Only at the male standing a few feet away from him. He was sure his shadows had noticed him by now, that they knew his scent and presence, but decided not to warn his master. After all, he was no threat, just a mere spectator of fate.

The shadowsinger seemed to doubt between two books from a stand. He was oblivious to the world around him, but the Suriel knew. He noticed how he had changed in just five months, how not only his scent screamed a mating bond but also his soul. The way he stood, walked, talked.

As if the world didn’t own him anything else, as if he was finally the main character of his story.

The tall, dangerous male picked up the thicker book and paid for it with a small smile. He asked the woman in charge of the stand for a blue ribbon and tied the bag with it. Azriel turned around and distanced himself from the Suriel, not noticing his looming presence. But as he got farther and farther away from him, the Suriel was pleasantly surprised to notice shadows gathering at his feet, curious but not aggressive.

He showed them a terrifying smile, all teeth and cruelty – and still, they only brushed the torn parts of his cape in silent gratitude.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!

Azriel taglist:

@boygeniuses10 , @tothestarsandwhateverend

Missed target taglist (will be added if I make a second part)

@kayjayjwrites , @phoenix666stuff , @lupinswolfsbanes , @bionic-donut , @tothestarsandwhateverend , @favsrachz , @dwlyniii , @mischiefmanagers , @sassybluebird , @saltedcoffeescotch , @andrewgarfield2022 , @leeknows-wife , @marscardigan , @celear , @sstrohma , @pricklepearbloom , @blackgirlmagicforever , @emiliasdump , @erencvlt , @that-one-little-soybean , @meshellexplosionmurder , @atrxidxs , @feyretopia , @sidthedollface2 , @littlelunatica , @historygeekqueen, @ash-mcj , @haileycannotcometothephonern , @thesunloveschips , @meritxellao , @impossibelle , @kalulakunundrum , @nebarious , @cullenswife , @emryb , @sandramalikstyles-blog

#imaginemai #imaginesmai #one shot #imagine #x reader #imagine mai #imagines mai #fic #acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel imagine #azriel one shot #azriel x you #azriel fic #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #shadowsinger #azriel shadowsinger x reader #shadowsinger x reader #acotar fic #acotar one shot #acotar x reader #acotar fanfic #acotar imagine

[maryleclerc]

𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐞* — charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x model!reader

face claim: gigi hadid

summary: in which y/n and charles leclerc has been dated for several years, but they broke up and y/n find out she was pregnant but charles leclerc never it was his child.

warning: pregnancy, single mother, this is an social media au!, it’s just an imagination so please don’t take it seriously. before you read it, charles in this will be an arse so if you don’t like it you don’t have to read. i CHANGE alexandra username, just use as face-claim

i don’t own any of these images, also does not have any pregnancy experience

haven’t decide who will reader end up with so you can recom whoever reader should end up with OR maybe just like the title name, single mom. also don’t know which gender baby should be so im open up to you guys opinion!! 🤍 also please let me know what you think after read this au!. thank you!!

yournameupdates

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yournameupdates Y/n Y/l/n reportedly reveals to Glamour Magazine that she will take a break from Model Industry after this week fashion runway with Versace Winter Collection. In the interview, she quote “It’s a little too overwhelming for me, and after 8 long years working in the modeling industry, I think maybe this is the right time for me to get little rest and spend time with my parents, siblings and loves one.” she also quote “I’ll come back next year, so don’t forget who I am”

Also don’t forget to watch “Y/N Y/L/N Answers The Web Most Searched Question!”

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y/nthegurl It’s just too much for her, so many things happen this year from the break up with Charles 3 months ago to everything that lead to this, she deserve someone better than him!!! Just 3 months he already move on

loverfory/n We will wait for you!!

yourusername

Liked by carlossainz55, arthur_leclerc and others

yourusername at mama papa !! 🧸🤍

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georgiaorlandoo Haven’t seen you since the broke up between you with Charles. But anyway, how are you?

⤷ yourusername I’m doing great!!! 🤍

⤷ henrypatinston_ @georgiaorlando Why did they broke up?

⤷ georgiaorlando Out of love, oviously ☹️

forevercharlesandy/n I will wait for you to come back!!

charles_leclerc

Liked by pierregasly, megansaintmleux and 3,451,902 others

charles_leclerc LA with my beloved @megansaintmleux

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y/nsgoddess Do you get déjà vu when she's with you?

ginnag_ People say whatever they want but i know he’s happy with his new partner

spilltheteahere I miss Y/n and Charles era 😩 i cannot believe it’s GONE!!

deuxmoi

1,751,822 likes

deuxmoi The first pictures of Y/n after her announce of taking a “break”. Congratulation Y/n Y/l/n!!

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lannister122 What? she PREGNANT?

babessbos I’m not surprise, know this will happen, just sooner or later

jessicawreen I wonder if Charles knows anything? @ihavethebesst

⤷ ihavethebesst Idek, like he’s already move on so i don’t even want to talk about it

[ to be continue ]

#charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc smut

[suashii]

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝒴𝒪𝒰, 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝑀𝐸

info ⭑ gojo x reader. 1.7 wc. sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ college au ﾉ navigating relationships

“did you miss me while you were at work?”

you jokingly roll your eyes, having expected the question. gojo asks you the same thing over the phone each time you’re making the walk home. he expects a certain answer, one you usually give to him but you’re feeling a little playful tonight. even though he can’t see it, you smile with your next words. “mm, i was a little too busy to think about you.”

there’s a slight pause on the line before gojo replies. “not even a little bit?”

you can hear the pout in his voice and picture the expression in your head—his fluffy white eyebrows pulled together in a frown, bottom lip petulantly poked out. the mental image makes your smile grow wider.

“i’m kidding,” you assure him, adjusting the phone in your hand. he may ask the same question after all of your shifts, but your actual answer never changes. “of course i did.”

his crackly laugh sounds through the speaker and in the chill of the night, it sparks a warmth within you. it’s a sound you’re sure you’ll never get tired of hearing.

“good. i missed you, too.”

you bite your cheek to keep the smile from overtaking your face. it’s been a few months since the two of you started dating but you’re still not used to the unabashed affection gojo continuously shows you. 

you can’t seem to find the right words to respond to his sentiment but the end of your commute gives you the opportunity to change the subject.

“hey, i’m almost home,” you tell gojo as you approach the stairs leading up to your apartment. “i’ll text you when i get inside.”

“sure,” he hums, “talk to you later.”

“bye,” you draw out the vowel before pulling the phone away from your ear and ending the call. you stuff the device in your bag and your hands in your pockets as you make your way up the stairs that’ll take you to your apartment. the cold air nips at the exposed skin of your face, making you pick up the pace in hopes of quickly getting somewhere warmer. as you reach the final step, something catches your attention.

there’s a figure on the wooden platform a few feet from your door. 

it should startle you, but you’re beginning to grow used to the sight. just like his calls, gojo has made a habit of showing up outside your place on nights when you work late. you can’t lie—there’s a certain level of comfort you’re met with each time you’re greeted by the back of his head.

you clear your throat as you walk up to him. “my neighbors are going to start thinking you’re a stalker if you keep showing up like this.”

your voice alerts gojo of your arrival and his head swivels so that he can meet your gaze. there’s a smile tugging at your lips that makes his own curl up at the corners. “can you blame me for wanting to make sure you get home safe?”

bright blue eyes follow you as you come to stand in front of the man. despite the iciness of the air, his coat is left unbuttoned. you’re able to see that he’s wearing a suit underneath his outerwear—he must have come straight here after finishing his internship for the day.

“i just got off the phone with you,” you tell him through a short laugh, pulling your hands out of your pockets to pull his coat closed, though it doesn’t stay. you wonder how long he’s been waiting but you know he won’t tell if you ask.

he leans forward into your touch with his next words. “maybe i want to see you walk through the door with my own eyes.”

“gojo—” before you can get the rest of your sentence out, the man holds a hand out to stop you.

“i told you, it’s satoru.” he’s been persistent about reminding you to call him by his first name ever since the two of you started dating. now is no different and he even goes as far as placing his hands on your waist, sounding out each syllable for you. “sa-to-ru. got it?”

the way he stares up at you with those sparkling eyes and that charming grin makes your heart jump in your chest. expectation lingers behind his gaze and you can sense his anticipation by the way his lithe fingers tap at your waist.

“fine… satoru.” the name still feels foreign on your tongue but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the taste of it. you clear your throat before sliding your hands up onto his shoulders. “you don’t have to keep doing this. it’s starting to get cold outside and you’ll get sick sitting out here.”

he shrugs. “i don’t mind.”

you sigh, readying to drill into him how important his health is when you notice, feel, that his shoulders are trembling with shivers. under a more attentive eye, the redness of his ears and cheeks also make themselves known. despite his carelessness, you can’t find it in yourself to scold him when his actions were so well-intended.

with the click of your tongue, you grab gojo’s tie and give it a gentle tug. “come inside and warm up.”

you weren’t sure it was possible, but gojo’s smile spreads even wider upon hearing your invitation. as if saying “don’t mind if i do,” the man stands to his full height. he towers above you now, but his presence is far from imposing. “after you.”

you lead the way, digging around your bag for your keys. they jingle as you pull them out and the click of your door unlocking sounds throughout the night air. your apartment is dark and as you reach to flip on the light switch, you wonder if you cleaned up this morning. gojo has been here before but you worry about embarrassing yourself with a mess.

though, you can’t stand around in the darkness forever. hoping that the unit is presentable, you turn on the main light. brightness floods the area and, to your credit, nothing more than a misplaced jacket dirties the room. you give yourself a mental pat on the back while you hang up your keys. when you turn to look at gojo, he’s in the process of shedding his coat. you mirror his actions but remind him, “you can’t stay long. i have an early shift tomorrow.”

he doesn’t stop taking his coat off but his smile is traded in for a frown. you’ve all but kicked him out before he’s even gotten settled, and because of work, at that. he’s beginning to think your coworkers see you more often than he does. he drapes his coat on the back of one of the chairs in your kitchen. “you know, if you moved in with me, you could quit your job.”

you almost laugh before you realize he isn’t joking. gojo has always been direct—since before you were dating and when the two of you got together—so his suggestion shouldn’t be surprising. still, every offer he makes to pamper and spoil you tends to catch you off guard. it’s not the proposals themselves, no, but the way he brings them up so casually as if they should be a given—expected.

everything about dating gojo is different from past relationships you’ve had. he expresses his love in ways unfamiliar to you, ways that are sometimes difficult for you to accept—not because you don’t want to but because you aren’t sure how. it doesn’t seem to bother gojo but you wonder when the time will come when you’re comfortable enough to consider taking him up on his offer.

“tempting, but no. ask me again in a couple of months,” you tell him over your shoulder from your place at the kitchen counter. you know he will. “want some tea?”

outwardly unaffected by your rejection, gojo hums in confirmation as he takes a seat at your table. it doesn’t take you long to prepare the warm beverage and place a cup of it in front of the man. you plop down across from him with a mug of your own.

“how was your day?” you ask him before taking a cautious sip of your tea.

“same old, same old,” he replies, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin in his cupped palms. it squishes his cheeks and gives him a youthful appearance.

under the fluorescent lights of your kitchen, it’s impossible not to pick up on the dark crescents below his eyes. now that the cold isn’t keeping him alert, you can tell just how exhausted he is.

“really? you look kind of tired.”

he brushes off your concern. “i’m fine.”

the phrase is one that gojo utters often but you’re having a hard time believing him tonight. it wouldn’t be safe for him to drive home in his current condition. even though you had been pretty adamant about him taking his leave earlier, you reconsider.

“why don’t you stay here tonight?” you suggest, holding the mug in your hands up to your mouth.

that much seems to capture gojo’s attention as his eyes widen in curiosity. you hide the smile threatening your lips behind your mug.

“are you sure?”

it’s at this moment that you realize—maybe the way you love is unfamiliar to gojo, too. maybe your invitations come as a surprise in the same way his do to you. and maybe, just like you, he’s wary of accepting your affections, nervous to get too comfortable.

the thought makes you want him to stay even more.

so, without hesitation, you nod. “you look like you’re two seconds away from collapsing. just sleep here.”

“well, if you insist, how could i say no?” gojo grins. it’s a sleepy one that doesn’t reach his eyes but it’s obvious that he’s grateful—for the gesture, of course, but even more so that he’s finally able to spend more time with you, even if that time will be spent sleeping.

you giggle at his response, gathering the cups and putting them in the sink before jerking your head in the direction of your bathroom. “come on, sleepy-head. let’s get ready for bed.”

hey there! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #jjk x you #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo drabbles #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios

[written-in-flowers]

His Student: Demon!Yeosang x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Incubus!Yeosang x Fem!Human!Reader | side pairing: demonline x reader

Word Count: 11k

Genre: smut (lots), angst MINORS DNI

Summary: YN's animosity with Yeosang reaches a head after a cruel prank. Will the teacher be taught new things by his insolent student?

Tags: enemies to FWB, master/salve dynamic, enslavement, mentions of domestic abuse, sex fighting, sex wrestling, degradation, name calling, nipple play, breast play, breast slapping, spanking, humiliation, light cock and ball pain, anal fingering, vaginal fingering, oral sex, rough oral sex, anal sex, unprotected sex, slight blood play, tickling, tickling feet, self-lubrication, tit fucking, thigh fucking, exhibitionism, voyeurism, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, gangbang, cream pie (massive), belly bulging (slight), hate fucking, fight fucking,

@pirateeznet

Previously on Pretty Pet | > Next

***

Sunrises. Chittering birds. The warmth of a lover. The smell of a hot breakfast or dark coffee. There were many things you’d rather wake up to aside from the pallid, stern face of your handler, Yeosang. Blinking your eyes open, you let out a soft groan seeing him on the side of the bed. You wondered how long the weirdo had been watching you, since he said nothing to you. It unnerved you. You rolled on your side to turn your back on him. Could he not see you're recovering from San?

Two months of living with your new masters was exhausting, if nothing else. Being San’s housewife proved more difficult than expected. Lots of travels into the city, buying ingredients for dinners you don't make, having clothes he tore apart mended, and pretending to tidy up a house that is already clean was a lot. Hongjoong remained undecided about his “schedule”, so it changed regularly: you’d either be enduring sex training by him or one of the servants, sitting in a cage with kitten ears waiting for him, or whatever he felt like assigning for the day. Interchange that with lessons with Yeosang, who was not the most understanding or gentle of teachers. He was critical, bossy, and demanding. If you missed a note, he made you play the piece again. If your voice cracked on a high pitch, he rolled his eyes and told you to sing again. According to him, musical talents should come easily to someone, and you kept proving him wrong. 

“You’ve been in bed long enough,” you heard him say. “Time to get up. You’re going to miss your lessons.”

You’d never, ever, ever tell anyone how much you’d enjoyed taunting him that first day. Seeing the strict, austere demon crumble in your hand gave you a sense of triumph. It felt good getting back at him in the best way. 

“Boo-hoo,” you grumbled into your pillow. The toll the previous night took on your body showed in your sore muscles. Thankfully, the creams helped with the tender areas. “I’m sick.”

“You’re not sick.”

“Yes I am,” you gave several coughs, “See?”

“You can’t get sick in Hell, idiot,” he scolded. “You’re already dead. You only get sick if someone curses you with pestilence, which you’re tempting me with if you don’t get up right now.”

“Do it, Demon Boy,” you challenged. “Then you can tell Master Seonghwa why he can’t have sex with me tonight.”

Brown eyes rimmed with crimson glared at you. For a second, you saw him considering it before his loyalty to Seonghwa won over. 

“You were permitted to miss breakfast with Master Seonghwa, but you aren’t missing your lessons. The Masters are at work, Jongho is on his way to start your morning routine, and I have to prepare us for the day. Get up.”

“What if I don’t?” you shot at him. 

“I’ll have Mingi throw cold water on you and drag you out of that bed,” he threatened. “Then, you can walk around cold, naked and wet.”

“Bet you’d love that, huh?”

He didn’t answer you, but instead turned on his heel and left. Rolling onto your back again, you soaked yourself in San’s bed. The youngest brother worked you particularly hard the previous night. He’d gotten particularly worked up from his day at the arena, so in usual fashion, he came home half naked and harder than a rock. It started in the living room, where he tore at your dress and panties before taking you in the hallway towards the bedroom. Heated passion drove the both of you last night. You simply couldn't get enough of one another. You knew you'd have a similar night with Seonghwa, if he wished.  

“Morning, sunshine!” Jongho poofed into existence as you slipped off the bed, holding the thin chemise he always put over you. “How’re you feeling? I heard Master San was pretty wild last night.”

“It was nothing unexpected,” you answered, sliding on the chemise. “That cream you made helped with the bruises.”

“Master San can get a bit rough when he’s in the heat of things,” he said, “So I knew you’d need it. I’ll bring you some tea while you’re bathing.”

“Thanks, Jongho.”

He let you walk into the bathroom alone while he disappeared to the kitchen. It took several minutes of convincing and reassuring your handlers that you can bathe yourself. You told them you weren’t a baby who couldn’t wash herself. Not that you hadn’t minded the extra-close attention, but the bathtub seemed the only place nobody disturbed you. Sliding into the water, you added a few drops of bath bubbles and watched them form in your hands. The calming scents wafted up from the surface, which you inhaled deeply. Bath time was always the best time. Wiping the cloth over your skin, you let yourself soak in the relaxing warmth. 

You’d grown to enjoy your life in the Black Keep. It was extremely more preferable than the House of Kisses. During San’s days, walking through the streets in your casual dresses and heels, you’d pass the brothel district to see the other slaves. You pitied their situation, even if Mingi insisted they deserved and chose this fate. He didn’t understand the reality of the circles. It’d been one of the realizations you made about the high-borns: they don’t visit the circles. Those places are for the damned to endure, not the demons. The farthest they’d gone, you’ve assumed, was to their different workplaces. You’d explained to Mingi that a life of servitude was more appealing than suffering a brutal punishment. Yes, they lived in poverty, subjected to vile sexual acts every night, and abused by their “owners”, but better than the circles. Much better. You in particular were especially lucky. 

“Fucking pet…” 

She’d been a skinny, unwashed thing. You’d walked back through the district from the merchants’ street when you came across her. Her body wrapped in a sheet of muslin fabric, the young woman stood outside a brothel peddling herself to passersby. You knew from experience that being put out was a form of punishment. They’d work, eat and sleep outside the brothel rather than in the comfort of the inside. She’d seen your fancy dress and lace collar, and glared at you. You couldn’t help glaring back. It’s not as if you asked to become their pet. It was fate. You don’t even know if they bought you legally. San only slit Rufus’s throat and they took you as theirs. 

“Are you planning on marinating in there like a chicken or are you going to get out? We’re on a schedule that you’re already late for.”

Where you’d expected Jongho, you received Yeosang instead. You huffed in annoyance, “Aren’t you supposed to be, like, preparing for the lesson? You know, tuning the piano or the cello or finding the right books to put my nose into?” 

“I already did,” he said stone-faced. He walked over to the shelf of toiletries and towels, grabbing one of them for you. “Sorry that I don’t dawdle. Unlike you, I understand schedules and adhere to them.”

“It’s not the end of the world if I don’t show up on time.” 

He came to the tub, extending the towel to embrace you. “Out. Now.”

You grumbled, standing from the comforting water into the cold air. He wrapped you in the towel, and began drying your body. “I can dry myself, you know.”

“I do,” he said, starting at your feet and working to your knees, then your hips. “But I have a job to do and I do it.”

As he dried you, you noticed he caressed certain spots. At first, you thought he was being careful with the areas San spanked in his heated moment. Yet, you couldn’t help seeing the heavy lidded eyes and longing stares. You rolled your eyes. He lingered over marks San left on parts of your body. Absent-mindedly, he traced the light bruising he found with delicate fingers regardless of location. His cold digits left goosebumps on your skin. 

“I thought we were on a tight schedule, Yeosang,” you interrupted his admiration. 

He coughed awkwardly, “Yes, we are.”

He hurriedly dried the rest of you, put you in your chemise again, then took you to your dressing room. Wooyoung stood there waiting with a Seonghwa-approved dress: a wrap-around pale pink dress with flowers painted onto the hems. Your hair done into a braid, he tied a matching ribbon to the end of it. In the mirror, you saw the angelic, innocent virgin Seonghwa wanted. You also spotted Yeosang looking at you in the mirror. The same lust-filled stare gazed over your body, no doubt undressing you piece-by-piece again. You ignored him, and walked out of the room first. 

“Morning, Mingi,” you said to your bodyguard who stood outside your doors. 

“Morning, YN,” he replied, nodding as you passed by him. “Have fun last night?”

“Loads,” you grinned. “Have fun listening to it?”

“You know I did.” You sensed him watching the ends of your dress swishing in each stride, and stifled a laugh. “You’re a demon’s weakness, you know that?”

“It’s becoming more obvious by the day.” 

Yeosang came into step with you, then walked ahead. You shook your head at him. Seeing his straight strides, his proper posture and head tilt, Yeosang showed his superiority even while walking. Even with his status as a “servant”, he thought himself above everyone around him. Mingi claimed they are half-brothers, sons of Satan, the Prince of Wrath. It explained Yeosang’s quickness of anger, even if subdued by his sophisticated manner. If he is so important, why was he content with servitude and not having his own lands?

“You’re a son of Satan, right?” you asked him from behind. 

“A grandson.”

“Then how come you don’t have your own lands like The Masters?”

“I’m not part of the direct bloodline,” he said stiffly. “I am a son-of-son. Only those with direct relation get the finer things.” 

“That still makes you his blood though. You’re his grandson.”

“And not directly from him. Direct bloodline implies it is someone right after him like Master Seonghwa, Asmodeus’s son from the 18th generation.”

“19th?”

“Those demons born between 1701 to 1800 obviously,” he said over his shoulder. “We won’t be covering the 18th generation for a while. We're still covering the 12th generation.”

“The medieval period, I know.”

“The High Middle Ages, YN.”

“Well, what generation are you, Mr. Know-It-All?”

“20th,” he said. “I was born in 1904. My mother was a demon of wrath and my father, Satan, took a liking to her. She was his mistress for many years. Same for Mingi’s mother. The Princes don’t take ‘wives’, if you couldn’t tell on your own.”

“What generations are Masters Hongjoong and San?”

“Master Hongjoong is from the 18th generation as well; he was born in 1755, while Master Seonghwa was born in 1754,” he said. “Master San is the youngest in the 20th generation, being born in 1910” 

“I guess I’d be a 20th generation, if I was a demon?”

“Yes.”

“Which would make you older than me?”

“Psh, I’m much, much older than you, but that doesn’t seem to matter to you. You’re generally disagreeable and insolent to anyone regardless of age.”

“No, Yeosang, I’m only disagreeable to you.”

He opened the doors to Seonghwa’s apartment without retort. You liked shutting him up even if briefly. Mingi stayed by the doors while you followed Yeosang into the music room. You’d missed the cello lesson according to the clock on the wall, so he took you over to the piano next. Sitting beside him on the bench, you watched him open the music book on the stand for you to read. 

“Let’s start with Chopin today,” he said, turning the page to one of the compositions. “He truly is one of the greats. Small children are able to play this, so let’s see just how much better a seven-year-old would be compared to your mediocrity.”

You wanted to kick him under the bench. It made you want to prove him wrong. You paid close attention to each note he played and repeated them back. He kept a distasteful expression every time you matched his notes. You remembered bits and pieces from those piano lessons your mother’s friend gave you. Mama hoped you’d become a famous musician one day; she said you had the talent if you practiced hard enough. Eight-year-old YN wanted to make her happy, and playing the piano and singing did that. That is, until He broke the small electric piano she’d saved up for your birthday. 

‘Nobody wants to listen to that shit!’ he’d shout, kicking it aside before sitting down. 

You never played again. 

“Well, I suppose you aren’t entirely useless after all,” Yeosang said when the lesson ended. You’d played the song perfectly, and you knew it bothered him. “Master Seonghwa will be pleased when he hears you after dinner. Try to remember it between now and then.” 

He stood up from the bench, and you stayed behind. You heard him gathering books in the next room, but you let your fingers trace the black keys. A melody came to you in particular. ‘Johnny Angel, Johnny Angel, Johnny Angel…You’re an angel to me.’ She always sang while she cleaned, even if under her breath. Her voice became your welcoming jingle. It was how you knew she was home. You'd learned how to play it by listening to the tune enough and working on it secretly in your room. Her face had lit up when you played it for her on her birthday. 

You missed her smile. 

“What song is that?” Yeosang’s voice cut through your memory. It irritated you. Are you not allowed even a few minutes to yourself? “I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s a song from home,” you answered. “You wouldn’t care.”

‘You’ve got natural born talent, baby girl.’

“Ugh, you humans are so sentimental. It’s-”

“-Fuck you, demon-boy,” you snapped over your shoulder, fingers slamming down the keys in emphasis. “Not everyone had parents who didn’t give a shit about them.” 

“I’d rather have no parents than one who smacked me around,” he remarked. “Come on, Master Seonghwa will be here soon and he’ll be cross if he sees you all weepy like that.”

You heard him leave, and anger boiled in your veins. It angered you because he was right. You would’ve rather not had a father than the one you lived with. 

“YN!” 

Leaving the bench, you walked through the apartment to the dining room. They’d already put down the fine china and utensils for lunch. You pushed your father from your head as you sat down. Putting the cloth napkin on your lap, you wondered what you’d be having for lunch. Mama used to make peanut butter and jelly, with fruit and juice on the side. She’d put a cookie and a note inside for you. She loved you, and you treated her so terribly. You remembered purposefully leaving the bag in your locker so your friends didn’t ridicule you. Having loving parents amongst your friends was embarrassing, even though now you wished you hadn’t cared. 

“YN? Yeosang?”

Yunho appeared in a puff of smoke, in his usual servant attire. “Morning, Yunho,” you said politely. 

“Sir,” Yeosang bowed. “What can I help you with?”

“I’ve come to inform YN that Master Seonghwa won’t be coming home for lunch,” he said. “He has a lunch meeting with his superiors, so he can’t stop by. You’ll be dining alone today. He sends his deepest apologies and hopes you enjoy lunch.” 

“That’s fine,” you said. “I understand. Thank you, Yunho.”

He nodded, disappearing once again. You sighed softly to yourself. Finally, a moment of peace. When the servant brought the first course, you thought you might scream. 

‘Sorry, Kitten. I hope you enjoy your day. I’ll see you tonight.’

The pink post-it note was attached to the tray cover. Inside, you found apple slices and a cup of caramel sauce. Mama added caramel because she knew how much you liked it with the apples. It was cruel. It was a sick joke. Seonghwa must have read your mind or learned or guessed and thought it’d be funny to taunt you. To spite your master, you ate them. He likely expected you to storm out and not eat for the day. You'd prove him wrong. You'd show him. You can be strong. You've been strong and tough your whole life. 

Main course hurt equally: a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with barbecue chips. Your favorite brand specifically. Tears blurred your vision, but you held them back. You could feel Yeosang a few feet away; you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. You ate the sandwich with a dry mouth. 

“You must be thirsty,” said Yeosang. “Here.”

A juice box. The cartoon apple beamed at you delightfully, the brand name over their head and another apple in their hands. Yeosang stuck the tiny plastic straw in the box for you and put it where your wine glass usually sat. It became apparent whose idea this had been.

“You’re a dick, you know that?”

He only laughed, walking away and back to his corner. You drank it anyway. It reminded you of the time fourteen-year-old YN brought lunch on her first day of high school. The kids, dressed in the popular fashion of the time, laughed when they saw the ham and cheese sandwich and loving note. You’d never felt more embarrassed than that moment. Was that when you stopped loving her? Or was it when she called you ‘sugar bear’ in front of your friends? Or when she wore a t-shirt with your face on it for your birthday? Your throat clogged up with sadness, and you stopped eating. She loved you and you were embarrassed by her. 

Dessert? Chocolate chip cookies. Her chocolate chip cookies. You knew by the texture and misshapen outlines. In a fit of rage, you grabbed the plate and tossed it across the table. The expensive plate bounced off the edge and shattered on the wooden floors. You glared at Yeosang, who’d gotten a kick out of your reaction. 

“What’s the matter, YN? You don’t like cookies?” 

The juice box in hand, you hurled it at him. The distance was quite impressive, and the stain it’d leave pleased you. Yeosang gave you a shocked expression that turned sour quickly. You threw your napkin onto the ground and stormed towards the doors. They slammed closed the second you reached the threshold. They might have hit you if you’d taken another step. 

“Where do you think you’re going, slut?” Yeosang growled, fire in his voice. 

Anger normally burns like hot coals in one's belly. It scorches everything in its path through the blinding red rage. Yet, that rarely happened to you. Your rage stung. A real, hateful, borderline murderous rage pinched your nerves, and flowed through your chest like a bad heartburn. A biting pain started in your chest and rushed to your hands and your feet. This wrath never daunted your anger. It seemed to add it. 

“Away from you!”

The doors suddenly burst back open again, wood cracking the edges and a door knob flying off. You breathed deeply, fighting back the caustic acid in your throat.  You charged through to the front doors, pushing them open with force. The sudden burst startled a quiet Mingi, who sprung into action right away. 

“YN, what’s going on?” 

You didn’t answer him. Immediately, the Black Keep felt suffocating. The elegant white walls and carpeted floors smothered any air in your body. The sun glowing through the tall windows felt hotter on your skin. For the first time since you arrived, you resented this stupid house. This pretentious, obnoxiously wealthy home for horny demons. It sickened you. Mingi’s deep voice called after you, echoing in the high ceilings, but you kept moving. You never explored the mansion yourself because you’re so confined to your “schedules”. Fuck schedules. Fuck rules. Fuck everything. Fuck your snobby, self-serving bastard masters. 

You found your way outside after several turns and staircases. Glass doors led to a grand staircase down into the vast gardens of the Black Keep. Outside, you finally found a refuge to make your own. The faint sweet scent of flowers and fresh air filled your lungs and cooled your hot skin. Everything felt electric. A growl came through your throat that you didn’t think possible. In the seclusion of a maze, the scathing pains cooled down with each breath. Hot tears finally spilled from your eyes. You wished they’d killed you that night or sent you back to your brothel. That way you wouldn’t be wishing to see her again. 

Finally, you found yourself in an enclosed space. Gravel covered the walkway in and around the fountain and benches. The fountain, you saw, was three tiers of water and flowers spiraling and blooming from the top. Flowers in various shades of pink and white grew from the green leaves and vines. You plopped down on one of the benches and stared at it. Briefly, you thought about her again. She loved flowers. She claimed your father once liked them too; he owned a florist shop in town, but you found that hard to swallow. Flowers are delicate; he was anything but that. Your masters are exactly the same. They hide behind their pretty belongings and silly aesthetics. They dazzled you with good sex and pretty things to pacify you. Just like your bosses. Just like every other man in your life. 

But you turned their games back on them. You used them like how they used you. You stepped on them to reach the top. You’d been a college drop-out with no references or experience in anything. Jobs weren’t hard to find, but good paying ones were. A pretty girl working in an office full of men, you knew what you had to do. You destroyed long-standing careers, marriages, familial relationships and friendships to get what you wanted. No man or woman could say no to you. Your beauty rendered them powerless. A flash of a smile, a touch of a hand and a suggestion pulled them into you like fish on hooks. You heard the whispers around the office. You knew what people said behind your back. 

“YN’s a maneater.” 

“She’s a snake in the grass.” 

“A viper with pretty teeth.” 

“Who exactly do you think you are?” Yeosang came into the space, and you didn’t look at him. “Hello? Answer me, slut.”

“Leave me alone.”

“You lost that-”

“-I said leave me alone, slave,” you let the insult drip from your voice. 

“You don’t get to be alone anymore. You lost that-”

“-And I’m taking it back!” You fisted a few pebbles from the ground and launched them at his shiny, black shoes. “Go away! Now!”

Yeosang growled deep in his chest and charged at you. The moment he gripped your wrist, you slammed your fist into the center of his face. Your knuckles burned, but it felt worth it to see his nose bleed. The two of you scowled and snarled at one another. Like two animals in a cage, you clashed at once. Yeosang punched your cheek hard, bringing a stinging you’d grown used to right away. You wrestled him to the ground, something you didn’t know how to do but did it anyway. Dirt and gravel shifted as the two of you slapped, punched and kicked one another. You saw the red in Yeosang’s eyes fill them completely, dark and angry as he bared sharp fangs. The brief second let you slam your fist into his jaw. His body felt hard and hot against yours even under all the layers. You could tell he had a similar build to Mingi, albeit smaller and shorter. Grabbing at his arms, the hard muscles flexed under your hands. When your body collided with his, you took in the slight, strong frame. He'd be fuckable if you didn't hate him. The two of you paused for a moment, both of you panting heavily and bleeding. You stared up into his face, seeing his wide eyes and soft lips. He gazed down your own face as if really taking you in. Then Yeosang ripped the ties keeping your dress closed. 

“Fucking slum slut,” he grunted through his teeth, tearing the fabric with his sharp nails, “You think you have power here? You think you’re something special? Think again.”

“Like you’re any better!” you hit his kidney area, and rolled him over. You tore at his clean, white shirt. The buttons popped off when you opened it to reveal his smooth, chiseled chest and abdomen. Grinding your hips, you pinched and rubbed his nipples. “Look at you,” you growled, rolling his nipples while moving your hips, “You’re just as slutty as me. All of you are.”

“Fuck you!”

He slashed at your cheek and pushed you off him. Falling onto your back, you knelt upright as he went for you. His body flung in reverse, he pushed you onto your back and grabbed at your panties. You kicked your legs and bucked your hips as the arousal built up in your lower region. The sound of tearing fabric, and the cool air brushing your sex made it clear. He'd torn them off. You grabbed at his black hair, pulling at it while he resisted. Burying his face in your crotch, he wildly licked and sucked your clit. You didn’t dare let out the noises in your throat. His tongue slipped and slid over your hard clit. Two could play that game. Roughly removing his belt and unzipping him, you spat on his semi-hardon and stuck it in your mouth. The two of you laid on your sides, each one trying to coax a single moan from the other and resisting. 

“Fucking whore,” he seethed, rapidly rubbing your clit, “You never say no to dick, do you?”

You nearly ripped off his pants when you broke out of his grip. Dick hard and red, it pulsed in your hand as you grabbed his balls underneath. “And you don’t say no to my mouth,” you shot back, spitting on him more and wetting his delicious cock. “You act like you’re better than me, but I see how you look at me. You want to fuck the shit out of me every minute of the day.” You tugged at his ballsack, earning a loud hiss, “My pussy dripping in your mouth…My ass gripping your tiny cock.”

“It’s not tiny!” 

It really wasn’t, but you’d never tell him that. He rolled you onto the ground, straddling your hips and roughly tugging on your bra. Your tits filling his hands, he squeezed them as he placed harsh kisses on your neck. His dick, throbbing and wet, pressed right to your sex. You reached down to him, and continued stroking him while he bit and sucked your nipples. Heavy breathing, grunting and groaning came between you. You hungered for him. You hated that your body betrayed you so easily; it gave him a power you never gave up to anyone. His expert tongue teased the tips of your nipples, sucking the pebbles until they grew harder. His large cock leaking into your hand, so close to your sex, you thought you might go insane with need. 

You shoved him off you and started humping him. Focusing on your pussy rubbing the head, you smirked in pleasure at his whimpering. Yet, he refused to show any arousal.  Yeosang kept squeezing your tits, which sent you into a new whirl of pleasure. 

“Slut,” he slapped your breast hard, “Slut, slut, slut.” 

He emphasized each word with a slap to your tits, which had you pinning down his knees. You saw his dick standing straight up, and you smacked it hard. It wagged in the air, and you heard Yeosang give a painful hiss. 

“Slave, slave, slave,” you mocked him, slapping his dick and balls. You knew he liked it by how he grew even harder. “You’re a bigger whore than me. Each of you,” you lifted his dick to slap his testicles and make him jerk. “All of you are a bunch of whores. I only have to flash you and you all drool like fucking dogs.” You stroked him while smacking his balls, the combination of pleasure and pain making him leak in your hand. 

“Don’t make me laugh!”

He grabbed your hair and pulled you over again. His dick slipped into your throat, choking your airway with his girth. “We only have to touch you a little bit, and you get soaked! Look at you now,” he shoved himself in and out of your mouth, “Taking my dick like a champ as your little cunt gets wet for me. You slum sluts love cock. You crave dick all day.”

You started sucking him earnestly, humming around him in your throat and grabbing his pert ass cheeks. Yeosang groaned when you forced a finger into his asshole, the move making him fuck your throat faster. Snug walls sucked your finger further inside him, pulsing at this new intrusion. You felt his hole growing wetter, but not with what you expected. What appeared to be a thin, clear cum worked as a lube. Self-lubricating. You never found anything hotter. Yeosang grew louder, moaning against your pussy and pushing into your throat.

 “Going to make you my cum dump,” he said, eyes closed, “I’m going to make you swallow my whole load. You’d fucking love that.”

Sinking two fingers into you, you grabbed his arm and pushed him onto the ground. You continued sucking him off, straddling his head, and forcing his knees apart. Yeosang groaned and panted loudly as you fingered and sucked him. He hooked his arms around your thighs, and pulled your pussy onto his mouth. Neither of you spat any more insults. You’d make Yeosang cum like that whore he truly is. You’d get one over on him with your throat and fingers. Reaching deep inside, you found the spongy parts of his prostate. He moaned loudly on your clit, flicking the sensitive nub and sucking on it obscenely. His walls tightened around your fingers, and you matched your fingers' pace with your mouth. You grinded against his tongue, whimpering when it slipped inside you. He slapped your ass much harder than San ever could. You dug your nails into the fleshy part of his inner thigh before dragging them down. He bit the inside of your thigh. You smacked his balls hard. A primal hunger came out of each of you. Your body wished to give in, but your mind didn't let you. You tasted him leaking into your mouth, which you used to spit into your hand and shove back into his ass. 

“Too bad I don’t have a dildo to fill this pretty hole,” you taunted him, “Whores like being fucked in their ass.”

“You would know,” he said, mouth full of pussy. He grabbed your hair, holding you in place as he pushed up into your mouth. “You’d fucking know, wouldn’t you, bitch?”

You kept his legs open as you fingered him faster, spit making it easier to slide in and out. He was practically riding your hand after a time, and you started riding his long tongue. You wouldn’t cum first, even if the sensation started building behind your clit. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. 

“Cum for me, bitch,” he smacked your ass with both hands, “Cum like the fucking whore you are.”

“You first, asshole,” you used your hand to smack his balls while you throated him again. 

His tongue reached up to your g-spot, and your eyes rolled in the back of your head. You heard his moans grow louder, much like when you’d given him the handjob. The slick sounds of his wet cock and hole being used nearly sent you over the edge. The moment you taste thick salty cum, you begin sucking him harder and fingering him deeper. Once your thighs trembled, Yeosang kept the same pace and forced you to his face. It was too close to tell, but you both came. His cock stifled your feral groans and your pussy muffled his high moans. You hated to admit he tasted so damn good. You stroked and sucked each drop, loving the slightly sweet taste in the process. 

When you both finally came down, you moved away from him and wiped your mouth and fingers on the end of his coat. He did the same with your dress, the wetness clear against the cotton fabric. 

“Just couldn’t get through lunch without some dick, huh?” he spat with a smirk. “You slum sluts are unbelievable.”

“You didn’t complain when I was finger fucking your ass.”

“And you didn’t when I came down your throat. Cock-hungry, cum-eating skank.”

“Not as bad as being a desperate, small-dicked prick.” 

He spat in your direction, and stood up. “Get cleaned up and come to the library. We’re not done with your lessons today.”

You didn’t dare flop down into the ground. On jelly-legs, you used the fountain water to clean your hands and mouth before following him through the garden. Neither of you said anything on the way back to the library. Mingi spotted your limping and torn dress, and glared at Yeosang. 

“What did you do?” he said, hands clenching at his sides. “The Masters will whip you for this.”

“I didn’t put it in her,” Yeosang said, walking past him without stopping. “I know her cunt is theirs even though it should be everyone’s with how horny she is all the time.”

Mingi’s glare diminished when he saw you. Removing his jacket, he put it over your shoulders and buttoned it to cover your body. “Are you okay?” he touched your tender cheek, pulling away when you winced. “They’ll put him on the whipping post for this.”

“I’m fine, Mingi,” you assured him. “It was just a bit…rough, that’s all.” He tried hiding the intrigue in his eyes, but you caught it and stepped closer to him. “You know I like things a bit rough,” you said in a whisper, “Especially rough enough to make me cry.”

“I should’ve gone with you then,” he said, wiping underneath your lip. “I’d give you something to really cry about.”

“Sounds like fun.” 

You brushed yourself against his crotch as you turned in his arms and walked into the room. They make it so easy. It was amusing. Finding Yeosang in the library, you saw he’d pulled out several leather books. By their worn out spines and the corners, you guessed they must be several centuries old. The one scroll he’d taken out seemed delicate and frail as he carefully unrolled it on the table. 

“Lose the jacket,” Yeosang ordered, “If you insist on acting like a whore, Master Seonghwa should see it when he returns home.”

Rather than argue, you removed the jacket. 

And the dress. 

And your bra. 

In nothing but your heels, you sat in front of him and took one of the copies on the table. “What’s first in the curriculum?” you asked, pretending as if you sitting naked was entirely normal. 

“Oh, so you do know words with more than two syllables,” he said, acting surprised. “Look at you, little scholar.” He took his own copy of a book titled ‘Literature of the Kings: A Collection of the Middle Ages. “We’ll start today with writings from the high middle ages. Master Seonghwa likes to talk about them, so try and keep up. Maybe you'll actually remember the time period.”

“The middle ages are all the same to me.”

While you both went over the first collection of old writing, you knew Yeosang kept looking at your body. You liked the attention and obvious struggle he faced. As he told you about something called The Cranberry Tales or whatever, you stretched to show off your chest to him. He’d finished with you in the garden, but here he was struggling to focus on his lesson plan. You wanted him to admit he was hornier than you and his masters combined. The men you used in the previous life liked to think themselves superior to everyone; they acted like the titans in their fields. You knocked them down a few notches with your pussy. It felt particularly good with men who acted above you, the secretary or office manager. Once you sat on them, they crumbled like broken cookies. 

Yeosang made it through the literature lesson, and you moved to History and Geography of Inferno. The map on the table detailed the various circles, inner and outer rims. Each part in different colors, it depicted which territory belonged to which prince. You'd seen the map before, since he brought it out every lesson. Seonghwa and Yeosang believed if you lived in Inferno, or Hell as other people know it, you should know its lands. You decided to stand on his side of the table, hands on the edge as you moved in front of him. 

“Where are we on here?” you asked, rolling your hips into his groin casually. 

“In Prince Asmodeus’s domain, as I've told you before,” he pushed right back into you, arms going through yours to point to the light red space on the map. One hand casually grabbing your breast, he continued, “Everything from this end of the circle to this end is his. The whirling winds where you came from are on this side away from the main city. I understand why you were put there now…” he pressed his lips to your ear as he pinched your nipple, “You just had dick and now you want more. I guess you like my ‘tiny dick’.”

“I don’t know what you mean. You’re the one pushing your dick into my ass.”

“Because you make it so readily available to me.”

“Like you wouldn’t take it if I didn’t dangle it in front of you like a dog wanting a treat.”

“I’d fuck you like the bitch you are.”

“The only bitch is you.”

You squeaked when a hand smacked across your ass again. He went back to explaining the areas of the map, where the inner cities were and which families lived in them. When he demanded you repeat the information back to him, he cupped both your breasts and squeezed them. It only mildly distracted you. As you described every prince and their heirs, Yeosang nibbled at your neck and slipped his hand between your legs. Your pussy, still wet from the garden, felt sensitive to his touches. 

“-And this is our family,” you pointed to the serpents around the thorny rose, “Master Seonghwa is the heir to the land, with Master Hongjoong and Master San right after him-”

“-Yes, I am the heir of this land.”

Yeosang and you jumped apart when Seonghwa stood in the doorway. Removing his tie, his dark eyes glinting with interest. “And the heir wishes to know why his Kitten is naked and grinding into his loyal servant?” 

“I was hot,” you said, standing straight and killing the desires inside you. 

“Very,” Seonghwa said, eyes gazing up your body. He stopped and gasped when he saw your split bottom lip. “Kitten, what happened?” He went straight to you, cupping your face to see it more closely. “Oh, Kitten…Yeosang, what-Wait, what happened to your face?” 

The redness on the bridge of his nose stood out against his porcelain skin, and so did the welt on his cheek. Even though he'd tried fixing himself up, he hadn't done a supreme job. 

“Did you two have a fist fight?” he asked him.

“Yes, Master,” Yeosang admitted. “She was being disobedient and having a temper tantrum.”

“After you pulled a mean prank on me at lunch.”

“You humans are so damn sensitive,” he remarked. “It was only a joke. It's not my fault you can’t take a joke.”

“Nobody was laughing but you-”

“-Enough,” Seonghwa intervened, “You two argue like children.” He straightened his jacket as he said, “And you decided to fight? Where? In the dining room?” 

“No,” you answered. 

“Then who blew the dining room doors?”

“Yeosang!”

“What?! It wasn’t me! It was you!”

“I’m a human. I couldn’t have.”

“You did it somehow!” He snapped. “You slammed them open or pushed them hard to frame me.”

“Shut it,” Seonghwa snapped. “Where did you do it?”

“In the garden,” you said. 

“She’d stormed away from me when I told her not to,” Yeosang explained quickly. “I only followed her to bring her back into the house.”

“And instead of bringing her back you decided to hate fuck her again?” he asked, hands on hips. “Yeah, I can smell it on both of you. What did you do?”

“Hit each other,” you answered. 

“I mean sex-wise,” he elaborated, “What did you do to one another?” Not getting an immediate response, he said, “Oh, now you’re both suddenly ashamed?”

“I finger fucked him,” you answered, “While I sucked him and slapped his balls.”

“And I…” Yeosang hesitated. “I tongue fucked her pussy and fucked her throat.”

“Oh yeah?” The small descriptions intrigued your master, a smirk spreading on his face. He lifted your chin and examined your other injuries. You winced at the thumb touching your jaw, and he placed a soft kiss on it. “How many times did you both cum?” he asked, licking the caked blood on your broken lip. 

“Only once,” you replied, your body warming to his hot tongue. 

“A quick one then?” a low rumble came from his chest, and you knew what ran through his mind. 

“Yes,” you answered in unison. 

He looked between the two of you, then said, “Come with me.” 

Nervousness killed the arousal Yeosang started up again. There’d been no specific rules against sex with the other servants. They only said nobody could have vaginal sex with you. Is he punishing you for the door? It was Yeosang, not you. Maybe for fighting him? You can imagine that. Seonghwa likely believed fighting wasn’t lady-like. Reaching Seonghwa’s bedroom, you took in the tall canopy bed with its white floral curtains and white bed covers. The sunlight dimming outside left the room in a golden glow, bringing out the bright colors in the room. Seonghwa removed his jacket, putting it behind a chair he brought closer to the bed. 

“Get on the bed,” he ordered, taking a seat and relaxing in his chair. On a table beside him, he poured himself a brandy. “And finish what you two started in the library.”

“Sir, really,” Yeosang huffed a laugh, “This isn’t necessary-”

“-Do you both need to be fighting for the sex to happen? Is that your foreplay?”

“It’s not my fault he gets hard berating me all the time,” you said, shooting him a glance. “He’s always calling me names and insulting my intelligence.”

“I’m not saying anything untrue,” he replied. “You’re a cock-starved slum slut. Is that not true?” 

“And you’re an uptight, snobby small-dicked bitch boy,” you spat. “That sounds pretty accurate to me.” 

Seonghwa laughed, sipping his brandy, “You two really can go at it, huh? Keep going. This is fun.”

“If my dick is so small, how could you gagged on it when I fucked your mouth?” he challenged, stepping to you. 

“Psh, you call what you did ‘gagging’? The only thing that made me gag is your gross tasting cum. I wouldn’t eat it even if it was the last edible source in the world.”

“Look who’s talking. Master Seonghwa says your pussy tastes like honey, but I think it tastes like rotten fruit.”

You pushed him, and he pushed back. That sharp feeling in your chest returned, pooling like saliva in your mouth. You swallowed it back even if it hurt. Showing any sign of desire would mean Yeosang won. You wouldn’t let him. 

“Slap her,” Seonghwa said, eyes trained on both of you. “You’re going to let a slum slut talk to you like that? She’s a filthy human, and you’re a grandson of Satan. How dare she disrespect you that way.”

Yeosang took his words to heart and smacked you again. “Ooh, that was hard,” Seonghwa laughed, “Kitten, don’t just stand there. Hit him back.”

So you did. Yeosang blocked the hit and slapped you. When he reached for you, you turned him onto his back on the bed. Once more, you tore at Yeosang’s clothes much more harshly this time. The broken buttons made it much easier, and it came off with his coat as well. Yeosang squirmed when you took his nipple between your teeth. As you teased his nipples, he reached down to your own to pinch them hard. 

“Come on,” Seonghwa drawled, “You two can do better than nipple stuff. Bite each-Haha, yes! Like that!”

Yeosang sunk his canines into your shoulder, making you yelp in pain as he drew blood. You did the same back, and the taste of his blood stirred your hunger. It tasted like a good rare steak. You supposed demon blood tasted that way. You’d started grinding into Yeosang as you bit across his collarbone. The sting of pain didn’t stop him from pushing you onto your back. He straddled your stomach and started slapping your tits again, using wide swings to add extra pain. You cried out as he did it to them at the same time, enjoying the stings of pain with your arousal. Trying to wriggle out from under him, you undid his pants to pull his cock out again. You held his hands on your tits as you slipped his length between them. 

“Oooh a nice tit fuck,” Seonghwa said, “How delightful. You’re not going to give in that easily, are you, Yeosang? I didn’t think the sons of Satan could be so weak.” 

“He is weak,” you confirmed, glaring at him as you pumped him with your breasts. “He’s already dripping on my tits. He loves my tits, don't you? Huh? My soft tits and hard nipples?” 

“You fucking bitch,” Yeosang growled. 

You laughed mockingly at him, and he slapped your face. Still laughing, you grappled with him as he tried getting you onto your front. 

“Pin her down,” Seonghwa cheered, “Get her ass in the air.” 

“What’s going on here?” a curious voice came from the door. San appeared, fresh from work, and he stopped next to Seonghwa when he saw you and Yeosang on the bed. “Are they wrestling?”

“Hate fucking. Care to watch?”

“Absolutely. I love a good hate fuck.” 

Forced onto your front, you tried lifting Yeosang off your back. Laying on your horizontally, he held you down while he began landing hard slaps to your ass. Your kicking and jerking amused the three demons. 

“Finger her,” Seonghwa called out, “Make her cum first.”

“Darling, just grab his dick. It’s right there.” 

You curved your body as much as possible to reach Yeosang’s hardening cock. Yeosang in return slipped two fingers into your aching pussy. Seonghwa cheered for Yeosang when he spotted the butler listening to his instructions. Yeosang spread your legs further, putting one hand under you and another over you and he fingered your pussy and rubbed your ass hole. Whining and whimpering, you spat on your hand and worked him up and down. You felt him pulse with each stroke. With a hard squeeze of his shaft, the brief pain distracted him enough to lose his grip on you. Sitting on his chest, you spat on his dick and stroked him with both hands. Yeosang’s fingers tickle the tops of your feet until you become ticklish. You kept jerking him off even as you fought the tickling sensation in your feet. He went further up your feet until he reached the center of your sole, which had you kicking to escape them. 

“Ticklish much, slut?” Yeosang teased before grabbing both ankles. 

He rolled you onto your front, pinning you down with his body and continuing to tickle your feet. Laughing from the tingling feeling, you tried moving your feet from him but when he turned around against you, using the empty space like a chair, it was over. Strong arms wrapped around your legs, he kept tickling your feet and backs of your legs. 

“Is it weird that I’m kind of into this?” San asked his brother. 

“Hongjoong’s into it, so let that be your answer.”

“Tickling isn’t that weird…”

You eventually kicked a foot out, and scrambled away from Yeosang. On the other side of the bed, you stood ready to tackle him. 

“Uh-oh, she got away, Yeosang,” Seonghwa jeered. “Just grab her!”

Yeosang lunged for you, managing to yank you onto the bed by the hair. Bent over, he brought you into the middle by an arm around your thighs. You struggled in his grasp. Your lower half in his lap, Yeosang resumed tickling your feet with one hand while holding your face into the bed with the other. Shimming your hips around, your pussy pressed to his cock easily. Yeosang let out a soft moan when you slipped him between your thighs. Grinding up and down, you fucked Yeosang with your thighs. 

“She’s thigh fucking him even in that weird position,” San chuckled. Finally seeing him, you saw he’d pulled up his own chair and drank from a brandy glass. “God, that’s hot.” 

The door opened again when you rolled off Yeosang. “Ah, so this is where everyone is!” Hongjoong walked into the room, and saw you and Yeosang on the bed. “Well, well, what is going on here?”

“Fight fuck,” San answered, “Pull up a chair.”

All three men groaned and laughed when you slammed a fist into Yeosang’s face. “Pet can really throw a punch!” Hongjoong laughed, shocked by the blood dripping from Yeosang’s mouth. 

“Put him inside you, Darling,” San suggested. “Milk him with that delicious pussy of yours.” 

“And he’d love it,” you growled at Yeosang, not hesitating to slide him inside you. Bouncing fast and hard, you pinned him by his shoulders and fucked him. “Who’s the fucking whore now, hm? Who’s the whore now?”

“It’s still you, bitch!”

Yeosang punched you this time. Teeth cutting into your cheek, he used the moment to force you onto your back. Blood tinged your mouth, which you gathered and spat on him. This only angered him more. 

“Fuck her, Yeosangie,” Hongjoong called, “Fuck her!”

The three brothers hooted when Yeosang curled you and shoved his dick into you hard. The bed bounced in every thrust. You refrained from moaning in each blissful push. Stars exploded in front of you whenever his dick went particularly deep. You swore the man was drawing out your sanity bit by bit. You clawed at his arms, his hands and back to distract him but he kept on going. The stabs of pain did not stop him at all. Even as blood peeked out of the hard scratches, Yeosang seemed unfazed. 

“You can tap out any time, Kitten,” Seonghwa said, “You can give in and let him fuck your pretty holes.”

“N-No,” you grunted, trying to slide out from under Yeosang even if his cock hit your g-spot perfectly. “Oh fuck, no. No, no, no, fuck you, no!”

Sensing your orgasm, Yeosang started pushing deeper. The brothers having a perfect view of Yeosang inside you, they started counting his thrusts. 

“Bet she cums in, like, ten more thrusts,” Hongjoong said. 

“I bet five,” Seonghwa replied. “She’s already curling her toes, look.” 

“Darling, come on, don’t give in that easily. You hold on so well for me in my bed.” 

You used all your strength to get Yeosang off you. Once separated from him, putting one arm on his throat, you squeezed his balls as you started sucking him. 

“That’s my girl,” San said approvingly. “That’s it. Give him a nice blowjob.”

“Fucking hell, Yeosang! You almost had her!” 

“Kang Yeosang,” Seonghwa scolded him, “If you don’t turn that bitch around and get back to fucking her, I’m going to put you in the greenhouse. You remember how stretched your ass hole got when Dennis finished with you, don’t you?”

This threat caused you and Yeosang to roll onto the hard floor. A shock of pain went from your head to your back, with you breaking Yeosang’s fall. Scrambling over you, he took advantage of your hard fall and lifted and spread your legs. Your head stuck against the bed frame, the awkward position nearly choked you. Keeping himself up on his hands, Yeosang fucked you in a reverse position that pleased your audience. 

“I bet you she passes out,” Hongjoong tapped San’s arm. “He’s got her in a rough position.”

“Darling, don’t give up,” San encouraged you. 

“No, do give up, Darling,” Hongjoong said, “I want to fuck you after Yeosang.”

“Hell no,” said Seonghwa, “It’s my day so I’m fucking the loser first.” 

Using Yeosang’s tactic against him, you started tickling Yeosang’s feet. He collapsed right at the first few brushes. To keep your audience happy, you managed to maneuver yourself on Yeosang so they could see you jerk him off with your soaked cunt. 

“She’s so fucking wet,” San moaned. You saw the bulges in each of their pants. San palmed his down to focus on you instead of his own pleasure. “How long have they been at this?”

Seonghwa told his brothers what you and Yeosang did in the garden. While he recounted the story, Yeosang knocked your elbows so you fell onto his chest. Locking his legs around yours, he stuck his hand to your pussy and started rubbing your sensitive pussy quickly. You managed to stick him between your thighs again, grinding into him. Both of you grunted and groaned, restraining your needy whimpers as you fucked on the ground. You refused to let him win. Even with your bloody mouth and aching muscles, you fought against him. 

“Holy shit, they did that?” Hongjoong laughed. “Sounds to me like they’re both whores. I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

“Neither do I,” said Seonghwa, “But it riles them up. I figured a one-on-one will settle things between them.”

“By how they’re fucking, I don’t think that’s going to happen.” 

Yeosang turned you into your front and stuck himself in your ass. Your sudden scream delighted the three men. “She loves it in her ass,” Hongjoong said, “Give it to her hard, Yeosang.”

“Fuck her ass,” Seonghwa chanted. 

The three brothers began chanting as you clawed at the hardwood floors. Pleasure pounded into you in every thrust. When your moans finally broke and became louder, the chanting ended and you heard clapping. 

“Make her cum,” Seonghwa said, “Get that slum slut to cum really hard. I want that pussy nice and sloppy for me.”

“Darling, stop being a wimp and fight back!”

“She’s too fucked out to care about fighting-Oh, oh, oh, I think it’s happening!”

You punched at Yeosang’s arms, hoping it might cause him to collapse, but he held strong. Your face pressed to the floor by his hand, you trembled and pounded the floor as you came. You felt humiliated and defeated. Yeosang laughed in triumph. Hongjoong and Seonghwa cheered at your quaking legs and stiff muscles. They encouraged him to keep going, but Yeosang pulled out and stood over you. He kicked you over onto your back, smugness on his blushing face as he put his foot on your chest. His muscles tensed and body rocked back and forth. Thick drops of cum fell right onto your face and neck. This time, you didn’t catch them in your mouth but instead turned your head. You hated how he laughed in the face of your defeat, humiliating you further by cumming all over you. 

“Oh, all of a sudden you don’t want cum in your mouth?” Seonghwa asked in disbelief. 

“Darling,” San moaned in disappointment, “You were doing so well. What happened?” 

“Yeosang’s cock happened, that’s what,” cackled Hongjoong, who stood to unbuckle his pants. “Now, it’s my turn.”

“No, it’s mine,” argued Seonghwa, taking off his shirt. “Like I said, it’s my day with her so I go first.”

“Then I’m going second. San goes last.”

“What? Why me?”

“You’re the youngest.”

“And the biggest,” he argued back.

“Oh give me a break. Don’t use that excuse again.”

“On the bed, bitch.”

Seonghwa took your ankles and Yeosang took your arms. In a single swing, they threw you onto the bed. “Fuck, look at that,” Seonghwa groaned, removing the rest of his clothes and climbing onto the bed, “Her pussy is so damn wet.”

“She’s a whore,” Yeosang said, tapping his dick on your mouth, “They’re always wet.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” 

He swiftly slid inside, and immediately began pounding into you. They both laughed at your instant moaning. Hearing you moaning, Seonghwa shook his head and slapped your cheek. “Losers don’t get orgasms,” he said, “They get their slutty hole fucked and pumped with cum. They don’t get to finish.”

“You should’ve considered that before fighting me,” Yeosang said, swiping his dick on your face. “Unless you lost on purpose, which is just pathetic. So, so pathetic.”

When you wiggled, Yeosang grabbed your arms to hold you down. San and Hongjoong appeared to keep your legs spread wide as their older brother quickly finished inside you. You quivered feeling hot cum shoot all over your walls. Being held down made it hard to escape the overstimulation each one brought. Hongjoong and Seonghwa switched places, and he swished his hard tip over your gushing sex. He chuckled when you whined, doing it even more to hear you cry out. He fucked you exactly how you expected, hard and fast. His hips snapped into yours while he rubbed your nipples. You nearly came again until he did first, adding his milky cum to Seonghwa’s load. 

“Oh fuck, look at this.”

They all groaned at the cum oozing out of your pussy. “Let’s see how much it gushes when I fill her up,” San said, sticking himself in you next. “I thought for sure you’d win, Darling,” he said, fucking into you hard. “I thought my wife was a winner.”

“Ma-Mas-t-er…”

“Shut up, whore,” Yeosang said, smacking one tit until you cried. “Keep talking and I’ll shut you up myself.”

“She’d probably like that,” said Seonghwa, tweaking your nipple hard. “She’d suck dick all day if we let her.” 

“I wouldn’t complain!” San whimpered, on the verge of an orgasm. “I’d take her to work with me too. Let her suck me under the desk.”

“We should do that,” Hongjoong said, eyes brightening at the new idea. “It’d make my work day so much more fun.”

The thought set San off. He came in several deep thrusts, bulging your belly like always, and pushed back all the cum that leaked out of you. Yeosang, hard from watching them use you, finally took his turn. Your masters laughed and beckoned him to go faster inside you. 

“I’ll pay you fifty-gold if you make her cum again,” Hongjoong told Yeosang. 

“Fifty-gold and a weekend off,” added Seonghwa. 

“And your choice of a brothel whore,” said San. 

Playing with your clit and pounding your sweet spot, you saw stars as you came. Your high-pitched squeals and quaking body amused them, but angered you. Yeosang forced himself as deep as possible as his cum joined the mess already inside you. Your masters finally released you, watching you cry from the overwhelming sensations running through your body. When you moved to close up, they held you apart. 

“I want to see it,” Hongjoong said, looking to see their combined fluids seep out of you. “Haha, it’s so full. If she were even half a demon, we might’ve just knocked her up.” 

“If only,” said San with a pout. “She’d look so pretty pregnant.”

“I’ve never fucked a pregnant chick, surprisingly.”

"Are you okay, Kitten?” asked Seonghwa, cupping your face and kissing you. “Sensitive? Any pain?”

“Yes.”

“Here, lay back against the pillows.” 

“I’ll call Yunho. Yunho!” San called into the room, the butler appearing when summoned. 

You hardly paid attention to anything else. You glared at them, “You’re a bunch of whores too. If there’s a House of Kisses, then this is the Palace of Whores.” 

They laughed at your frowning face, and Seonghwa cooed. “Don’t be a sore loser,” he said, smiling and kissing you again, “You did well too. You’ll get him next time.” 

“If you want,” San came up next to you with a wet cloth, beginning to clean your face, “We can practice together. I’m quite good at fight fucking, I’ve been told.” 

“He really is,” agreed Seonghwa. 

“I’m more of a spectator.” Hongjoong knelt in front of you, another damp cloth in his hand. He went to touch your sex, and you clammed up, shaking your head. “I’m not going to do anything. We need to clean you, baby.” He gently pushed your legs apart and cleaned the sticky mess coming out of you. “We can’t have you walking around dripping like this.” 

“Just get some rest, Darling,” San pecked your lips, “We’ll be here when you wake up.” 

“You promise?” you asked softly. 

“I promise,” he said, nuzzling your nose gently. “Be a good pet and sleep.” 

The last words you heard as you drifted to sleep were Hongjoong’s: 

“Dude, what happened to your doors?”

****

Yes, what happened to the doors? Yeosang wondered about this as the masters converged on you. His body slumped into a nearby chair, sweat sticking to his skin and matting his hair. All the adrenaline in his veins died out after his third orgasm of the day. Surely, he’ll be needing that weekend off. The smell of apples clung to his nostrils even with the sweat and sex in the air. Your fruity fragrance always stuck with him after being around you too long. He wondered which perfume you owned had such potency. It usually wears off after a short amount of time, but yours always stuck around. 

“Yeosang,” Master Seonghwa approached him, pouring a brandy for him, “Here. For you.”

“Thank you, sir,” he nodded, mustering energy to grab the glass and sip from it. 

“She’s something, huh?” he asked, leaning in his own chair and finishing his brandy. “I’ve never had a human who can take such a pounding like that. They usually give up in the first few minutes.”

“She’s a whore, Master. It’s what she’s made for.”

“Humans are made to be blank slates for the world to fill up as they grow,” he said. He saw his master staring at you intently. Yeosang only saw that stare in one situation: when his mind was turning. “They’re meant to be given choices, leading them one way or another, and they’re given free will to choose. Kitten chose herself each time…”

“I suppose so, sir.”

“What does she smell like to you, Yeosang?”

“Master?”

“When you are near her, what does she smell like?”

“Apples,” he answered, “Apples covered in cinnamon.”

“Are you fond of cinnamon-apples?”

“I do enjoy them on occasion.”

“Hm, interesting.” He poured himself another brandy, “She smells like honey to me.” He smiled softly, “Golden honey spread over fresh, warm bread.”

“I am aware, sir.”

“Hongjoong tells me she smells like strawberry ice cream,” he said. “You know how partial he is to strawberries in general, but he says she’s like the ice cream specifically.”

“Huh,” Yeosang said, leaning in his chair. “That is interesting.”

“San says he smells orange slices.”

“So fruit based scents,” Yeosang concluded. “What does that tell you?”

“Remember when I kissed her?” he said, “Licked her bloody lip and all?”

“I do.” He’d found it a pleasurable sight. 

“My throat stung.” The silence that followed the words left many things unsaid. “It stung as if I had acid reflux. At the time, I thought it was something I ate but now…”

“Do you believe otherwise?”

“I do. You tasted her blood. How do you feel?”

Yeosang took a moment to think about it. In the heat of passion, he’d owned the stinging in his throat to his low growls and snarls. He thought it might’ve been the deep breathing drying out his mouth. Yet, as he took a purposeful swallow, he realized it stung slightly. The sick feeling in the pit of his stomach might have been his tensed abdomen or another thing entirely. 

“The same.”

“Huh…And the doors-”

“-I would never damage your property, sir,” Yeosang interrupted. “Not even in the hottest of rages would I do that.”

“Then who did it?”

“I’m not sure. She might have touched it without realizing and pushed them hard. This house is very old, Master. It is possible.”

Seonghwa chuckled, “Yeosang, you are not so blind.”

“Then what do you believe happened?”

“I think Kitten hasn’t been entirely honest with us,” he said. “I must think about this more.” 

Yeosang felt a pit of worry break through him. “Master, what happened between-”

“-Dennis…” the name came from Seonghwa without realizing. 

Yeosang’s blood went cold. “What about him?”

“Let’s put her before him,” he suggested. “I’d like to see what happens.”

“What happens? Sir, I don’t believe that is the best idea. Dennis will drain her, then rip her apart. You’ll have lost-”

“-Let me worry about that. You go and enjoy your weekend off. I recommend that brothel in the high street. It’s called Scarlet Silk. They truly have a nice selection there.” 

“Master, the greenhouse is meant for disobedient slaves and for the maids,” he said, not letting it go so easily. “YN might be a bit untamed, but she doesn’t deserve such a harsh and cruel end. What happened between me and her was nothing. It was a spat between rivals. I would never truly harm her or wish her to be harmed. I could’ve easily have crushed her if I-”

“-I said I will worry about it, Yeosang,” he said with finality. “Clean yourself up and get some rest. Jongho can see after Kitten tomorrow.” 

“Yes, Master.” 

Regret tore his insides as he left the room in nothing but a sheet. Walking through the quiet palace, he worried about what he’d just done. He’d played the prank in hopes of heating you up for sex. Yeosang enjoyed the small spats and insults you threw at one another. He knew if you figured that out, he’d never have a peaceful moment. He’d struggled to keep himself together in the library, where you left yourself bare for him. He might have taken you right there if Master Seonghwa had not intervened. The two of you could always have an amicable relationship like you and Jongho. 

But, where was the fun in that? 

***

Y/N: hmm, interesting, no? We might start learning a few new things about YN now. As always, thanks for reading, and please reblog and like <3

#ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #kang yeosang #yeosang ateez #yeosang x reader #yeosang x you #yeosang x yn #ateez smut #ateez x reader #yeosang smut #kang yeosang smut

[singmyaubade]

The Girl We Love

Poly!Marauders x Female!Reader

A/N: Hello! Long time no see; this came to me out of nowhere, and I just wrote it off the top of my head; I hope you enjoy it! <3 P.S. I have no idea what to think about this story.

Summary: Can all of them handle loving you at the same time?

Warning: Containing cursing, soon-to-be-smut, etc... Viewer discretion is advised.

--

The boys were enjoying their summer, basking in the hot sun and the chance to go in the pool anytime they wanted. Although it was just Remus, Sirius, and James, that was all they needed. Unfortunately, Peter was in France, but 3/4 Marauders was better than none.

"James, Sirius!" Euphemia yelled as James and Sirius groaned, not wanting to go downstairs due to their laziness, "I know you boys can hear me, and I am giving you five seconds," She yelled louder as the two boys looked at each other in fear as they both lunged to the door, James pushing Sirius into the wall.

"5..4...3.." The boys had rushed downstairs before two to see their Euphemia setting the dining room, "Why is Remus the only helpful boy in this house?" Euphemia huffed as Remus set down the dishes.

James ignored her, noticing the fancy table mats she would only bring out when people came over, "Uh, Mum, what's going on?" James asked, scratching his head, confused.

"Yeah, we never use this table unless James forgot he's human instead of dog," Sirius joked as James smacked him in his stomach, earning a groan.

Euphemia sighed, "Ms. L/N and Y/N are coming for dinner," She answered, setting the plates over the tablecloths.

James's mother and your mother were best friends, practically inseparable when you all were younger. Even when they didn't see each other, James would see her writing letters to your mom.

"Why?" James asked as Euphemia glared at him, "I just mean that we haven't seen her in so long, like since we were like thirteen,"

"You mean when you all would rough house and were into wrestling and Quidditch?" Euphemia hummed.

"The good old days," Sirius added, looking up in dramatics.

"Yeah, when you would tackle her and throw mud on us all," Remus muttered.

"Um yeah?" Sirius responded, "The good old days!"

Having you over was like having another brother around when it came to James. You always loved watching Quidditch and would yell with him when your favorite team won, chest-bumping each other.

You would always dress like the Marauders, wear whatever trend they were following, and play with whatever toys seemed remarkable to them.

You all ate like absolute slobs, and Euphemia and your mother would constantly reprimand all of you, but you didn't care because if you all did it, it was incredible.

When your parents divorced and you went to France with your Father, they all hadn't realized the switch in your presence as much. They would mention you sometimes but would only give it a short conversation. They were just kids; They didn't know much until later.

"This might be nice, you know?" Sirius said, "We haven't seen Y/N in so long, and I do miss having another one of the guys in the house," Sirius wrapped his arm around James's shoulders.

"Y/N is a girl," Remus corrected.

"You know what I mean," Sirius said, sitting in his seat.

"Wonder if she still plays Quidditch," James added, sitting beside Sirius.

"Can't wait to kick her arse in it," Sirius said, putting his hands together tauntingly.

Euphemia shushed them, "Enough of this talk, they should be arriving any minute now, and I expect the most from all of you," She tsked, moving near the door.

"She's talking about you two," Remus said, smirking.

"Oh shove it, Moony, you aren't a saint," James teased.

"Yeah, we know of your unspeakable acts in the bedroom," Sirius joked, winking at Remus as he bit his tongue.

James could hear voices from the front door as you stepped into view, hugging Euphemia, and he couldn't believe what he was seeing; none of them could.

Of course, you were different; the years did you well, but your hair grew past your shoulders, not the usual bob. You were wearing a lavender dress, a step away from your tomboy outfits. From what he remembered about you, your nails were painted in your favorite color, and you no longer wore a retainer everywhere you went.

Your dress hugged your waist perfectly, and none of the Marauders were perverts, but none of them could hide the fact that they were staring at you.

You looked at them with a grin, going over to James first as he stood up from his chair like a statue, "Jamesy!" You squeaked, the childhood nickname sounding different now.

You embraced him in a tight hug, your boobs pressing against his chest as he grew flustered. You pulled back, looking at him, "I missed you so much," You excitedly said, returning for a hug.

James could feel how soft your skin was, like a rose petal coated in shea butter. He had never felt something so gentle in his entire life like it wasn't real.

Once James squeezed you back, you moved over to Sirius, giving him a tight hug. His hands stayed on your back as your lips were on his neck accidentally. Sirius was never the type to blush, but somehow, you succeeded.

Sirius could smell home when he was near you, like cinnamon and hot chocolate, like a long day of Quidditch on the grass and Euphemia giving him a cold glass of Butterbeer kind of touch.

You pulled back, giving him a smile instead of words because moving over to Remus, pecking him on the cheek, and moving to a hug, "Remsy, long time no see," You giggled, giving him a hug as he smiled, trying not to let his thoughts get to him.

Remus could feel your happiness like sunlight as if it was glowing. When he hugged you, he felt happy like never before; it made him forget every stormy night or memory.

They all could feel your presence like a lightning bolt with each embrace, and it was hard to hide when you were up against them.

Euphemia and your mother were still chatting at the door, so you decided to talk with them about their social life as much as possible.

"I missed all of you so much," You cheesily said, sitting across from them all, "Please tell me how all of you have been," You looked at Sirius first.

You had developed a slight French accent, but only people would notice if they genuinely heard you.

Both Remus and James side-eyed Sirius, who looked shellshocked, "Well, I've just been focusing on school since graduation and just been enjoying summer," He awkwardly laughed, not knowing what to say, "I made Quidditch Co-captain with James,"

Your mouth fell open, "Oh my god, I am so proud of you guys; congratulations," You said happily.

"Thank you," James and Sirius said in unison as you laughed.

"What about you, James?" You asked, looking at him.

"I've been focusing on Quidditch and maybe becoming an Auror in the future when I'm done with my Quidditch career," James responded.

"I remember you always talking about being an Auror; I'm glad you still want to do it," You responded kindly, "What about you, Remus?" You looked at him.

"I've been focusing on becoming a healer or professor since I enjoy helping others," He said as you beamed.

"Well, considering you did help me when I cut my knee on the concrete when we were ten, I would say you are perfectly trained," You joked as Remus grinned.

"What about you, Y/N? What have you been up to?" James asked.

"Well, I hope to become a journalist or a write since it is a dream, but I was going to move back to London with my boyfriend," You said as all of the boys mentally punched themselves, "But then he cheated on me so I might just be alone," You said as the boys grinned from ear to ear.

"Yes!" Sirius said as you raised an eyebrow, "Yes, what an awful thing for him to do; I am so sorry, Y/N," Sirius said.

"Agreed, he must be a bloody fool," Remus added.

"I'm glad he's out of your life," James said, "Uh because, he's a horrible person,"

"Thank you, guys; I am glad I found out before I moved with him here," You said with relief.

Your mother and Euphemia approached the table, your mother sitting next to you and Euphemia sitting across, "I apologize, Fleamont couldn't attend; he has business matters in Rome," Euphemia said in a sweet voice.

"That man always focuses on business," Your mother tsked as Euphemia smiled before your mother looked at the three boys, "Oh my, how you guys have grown," She smiled dearly.

"You don't look like a day over twenty, Ms. L/N," Sirius winked as Remus elbowed him, causing the air to fall out of his lungs.

"Why thank you, dear," Your mother said genuinely as Euphemia glared at Sirius.

"First course is ready!" Minnie said, snapping her fingers to a variety of foods. Your eyes shot in amazement at the different dishes, even some being French.

"Thank you, Minnie," Euphemia said, nodding to the elf as Minnie bowed, disappearing.

"Y/n, how have your studies been at Beaubaxtons?" Euphemia asked, grabbing some potatoes.

"Delightful," You responded, "I know that it seems like a reform school for young girls, but I actually do enjoy it there, and we always watch Quidditch, surprisingly," You said as Euphemia grinned, "I do wish we had our own team though, I would love to play,"

"I'll play with you, Y/N," James said as the table looked at him, "If you ever need a partner," He whispered, digging into his chicken.

You cheerfully looked at him, "I would love to,"

James smiled to himself as Sirius side-eyed James, "And if you ever need another partner, I am here as well," Sirius added, making James kick him from under the table.

"Thank you, Sirius, I would love that as well," You said, still smiling.

Euphemia noticed the two boys rolling her eyes, "And your mother has told me you enjoy reading; Remus might know a thing or two about that," She said.

"I've needed a reading partner. The girls at Beaubaxton read, but they don't have much variety," You chuckled.

"Well, I can assure you that I do," Remus jokingly said as both James and Sirius glared at him, causing Remus to clear his throat.

"That's great! Considering I will be staying here, that sounds incredible," You said as James nearly spit out his dragon fruit juice.

"The cat seems out of the bag," Your mother said, eating another piece of meat.

"Oh, I apologize; you hadn't told them?" You said, looking at Euphemia.

"Not yet," Euphemia said with a slight smile, "Y/N and her mother will be staying with us for the summer,"

They all felt like they were in a dream that felt like reality; Sirius was close to pinching himself.

If they were thirteen again, they probably would've considered this a chance to have another Peter around, but now, it was entirely different.

You were sweet, still enjoyed Quidditch, and read while being entirely yourself.

You were like a dream.

"Trust me, they are all excited," Euphemia told you as the boys snapped out of the trance.

"That sounds amazi-" Remus started.

"I am so glad-" Sirius beginning.

"I can't wait to-"

They all said simultaneously, making you giggle, "I am excited too."

From then on, the conversations were light with laughs and banter, moving through the courses until Euphemia decided that all the kids needed to go to bed, to which James and Sirius protested.

They were all instructed to guide you to your room, to which you followed them up the stairs until they led you to a room with lavender walls and blue and white bedding.

You stopped them at the door, grinning ear to ear at the room, "Thank you all for leading me to my room," You said as they all said you were welcome at the same time.

You giggled, "I missed you guys so much," You said, hugging all of their tall figures with a kiss on each of their cheeks, "Goodnight, I will see you tomorrow,"

They all stuttered a goodnight as you closed the door.

And the Marauders didn't know they could ever want something so wrong.

#marauders era #james potter #hp #hogwarts #harry potter #singmyaubade #remus lupin #sirius black #tw mature #poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x fem!reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #marauders x reader #poly!marauders x sub!reader #poly!marauders x girlfriend!reader #poly!marauders smut #smut #harry potter imagines #remus lupin fluff #james potter smut #sirius black x james potter #remus lupin x james potter #daddy!remus #daddy!sirius #sub!reader #marauders #james potter x y/n

[upsidedownmvnson]

idiots to lovers | eddie munson

eddie realizes his feelings for his best friend when you return from a few weeks away at camp - and luckily you've been discovering the same thing about your own feelings

just practicing my writing, idk, i want to start long fic format but i'm just a sucker for 3k words and a satisfying end, yaknow?

"You know," Dustin Henderson says, elbowing Eddie in the side, "Y/n gets back from camp today."

"I know," Eddie snaps, looking up at the clock again. The drive was three hours, and you'd called him at ten saying you were about to be on the way home, and now it was one. And you should be pulling up to Steve's house any second.

"I just wasn't sure," he shrugged, "because you've been staring at the clock for two whole hours!"

"Will you be... quiet?" 

"I'm just saying," Dustin shrugged, "maybe you missed her so much because, oh, I don't know... you love her?"

"I don't love her," Eddie sighed, having to defend his friendship with you all the time was kind of exhausting, you guys were friends. Always have been. Why does everyone think you're dating? Why does everyone think he was in love with you? "Well, like, I do love her, but not like that - I just..." Eddie thinks for a minute. "...fuck off."

The rest of the group was snickering nearby, holding their laughs and trying to pretend that they weren't listening to Dustin's stupid questions. 

"You've been talking about her all day everyday since she left. When's y/n coming back again? Do you think she misses us? Do you think she's having fun?" Dustin would've continued to ramble if Eddie hadn't scowled at him, and Dustin knew this conversation would end like all the others. Eddie would ignore, deny and continue to pine over you while blissfully unaware that he was seriously in love. "Have you ever had a crush on someone?"

"Of course I have- what kind of question is that?"

"And what did it feel like?"

"What?"

"Just humour me," Dustin said, "close your eyes. And don't answer out loud but just think of the answer." Eddie looked at him unamused, but Dustin waved him on, "C'mon, humour me!"

Eddie sighed, rolled his eyes, and then closed them, making himself wonder what the hell he was doing. He thought about the giddy feeling of a crush walking into the room. He thought about the late night calls, and the subtle touches, and the pining, the wishing for someone to just... notice you, notice your worth and pick you, pick you out of a crowd of worthy people.

"And how do you feel when you think about y/n?"

Eddie froze, both of those feelings eerily similar. Dustin was close, but he saw Eddie's walls go up in real time. 

"This stupid experiment is over," he said, standing up and trudging out of the house, leaving them all behind laughing at Dustin's stupid... whatever the hell that was.

And then Eddie was outside, trying to enjoy the serenity of nature in Steve’s vast yard, while he puffs a joint he’d stashed in his pocket. Not wise to smoke his own supply, but everyone deserves a little something in the summer. Especially since he couldn’t get his mind off of you. Dustin was right about one thing, ever since you left - it’s felt like something was missing. He just… missed you. Sometimes at night, when he’d hoped you call and you didn’t, he would miss you so badly that it hurt. Like a physical ache in his stomach, or like there was this weight on his chest that he couldn’t get off no matter how hard he tried.

What the hell did Dustin know, anyway? The kid has had one girlfriend and Eddie didn’t even know if that was still, like, occurring. 

More than Eddie, but still.

But all those irritable feelings went away when your car pulled into the driveway. Every annoyance, every frustration, every ache, wiped away by your arrival. And it was a breath of fresh air, like he could finally breathe again. he snuffed the joint out on the step, just shoving it bare into his jean pocket, and stood, waiting for you to get out impatiently, bouncing his weight between his feet.

And when you did get out he ran to you, unable to stop himself from picking you up and spinning you around.

“You’re back!” he all but shouted, listening to the beautiful sound of the little giggles escaping you as he finished his twirling and set you down.

“I’m back,” you said, wobbly on your feet after the airborne spinning. “I missed you,” you said, lovingly wrapping a small piece of his hair around your fingers. He smelled like freshly smoked weed, but he also smelled like cinnamon and home. You’d loved camp, but you were so happy to be home. You pulled him into a hug, and he closed his eyes, leaning down to really wrap himself around you, and rest his chin on your shoulder while you pushed your face into his chest.

He could feel his own heart beating faster, he could feel the heat in his cheeks, and all he could think about was how good you smelled. Like lake water, and vanilla. And- and he shouldn’t be thinking like this, thinking how natural it felt to have you back in his arms.

“Y/n!!” 

The party shouted at you all at the same time, clamouring down the steps noisily. Eddie quickly stepped away, turning away from all of them and toying with his hair like you had done, trying to hide his pink cheeks and neck from everyone, but Dustin, of course, saw.

“Hi guys!” you said, bright genuine smile as they all surrounded you in a group hug. You had to worm your way out to hug all the others, Steve, Robin, Nancy and Jon. “What did I miss?”

And everyone was shouting things at you at once, and you couldn’t keep up, just smiled and nodded like you knew what was going on.

You followed everyone into the house, listening to Nancy talk about her time at an internship during the summer. Eddie trailed behind slowly, confusing himself by being unable to tear his eyes away from your legs. You had started wearing jean shorts… and they were short and he was frustrated at how much he liked them. And your shirt… a t-shirt tied in the front, exposing an inch of skin between your shorts and the shirt. Tanned and soft and…

Eddie stopped walking before he stepped onto the porch. What was wrong with him??? Why couldn’t he, like, focus? Why couldn’t he stopped thinking about the intoxicating lake water and vanilla aroma, why can’t he stop thinking about your legs?

“Whatcha doin’?” Dustin asked, popping his head out the front door. “Thinking about what a crush feels like?”

And Eddie took off, trying to grab the kid before he could dash away, but he was unsuccessful, and Dustin laughed as he dodged between his friends, hiding behind Steve, who was talking to you about his promotion at Family Video.

You couldn’t stop thinking about Eddie. What the hell was wrong with you? Steve was talking about how he was promoted at work, and all you could think about was how it felt to have Eddie wrapped around you. 

Summer had done wonders for him, he looked the same, but different. Eddie just looked… really good. And you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him as soon as he lunged in the door. Dustin was behind Steve, laughing, and Eddie was frozen in his tracks, suddenly bashful.

“Are we missing something?” Steve asked, hip popping out with his hand on it. 

“No,” Dustin mused, “nothing at all.” 

And you gave your attention back to Steve, or you tried to anyway. but your eyes threatened to drift back over to Eddie, where he was leaning quietly near the door, all dark and handsome, waiting for everyone to get out of the way. It was near impossible to focus on Steve’s riveting assistant manager story, when Eddie was over there.

You’d missed Eddie so much while you were gone. There were cute boys at camp, sure, but you didn’t give any of them your time, even when they begged. They thought you were playing hard to get but you just weren’t feeling very… available. And you didn’t really know why at the time, but you were starting to figure it out. You weren’t available because your heart was already gone. While you were at the most beautiful lake in Indiana, your heart was back in a trailer park in Hawkins. 

“And now Robin works for me,” Steve finished, hitting Robin with his elbow and laughing. 

“You mean because I’m going to college?” she joked, grinning as his smile fell.

“That’s mean, Buckley.” Steve crossed his arms, pouting. “I’ll fire you.”

“No,” she laughed, “I don’t think you actually have that authority, but you could tell Keith I hurt your feelings, sure, and see how that plays out.”

“Okay,” Steve said, clapping his hands and getting everyone’s attention, “why don’t we head into the living room instead of clogging up my entryway.”

You and Robin laughed, walking arm in arm to the other room, laughing about Steve’s stupid pout, and mom stance. The girls at camp were so nice, and you’d made friends but no one could replace Nancy or Robin in your heart. Those two had been through so much with you, you were bonded forever.

The three of you sat close, you and Robin on the couch and Nancy on the floor, letting you braid her hair in a fancy way you’d learned at camp.

Eddie sat by Dustin, totally drunk on the sound of your laughter as you giggled with the girls, and he realized… Dustin was right. All of them were right. He did love you. He was actually so in love with you and he just didn’t realize because you were so close, but spending all this time apart, it made these feelings just explode in his chest. And he couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t fight the yearning, or the pining, or the love he felt. He should’ve known. Should’ve known by the comfort he felt while you were around, should’ve known by the way he sleeps better when you have sleepovers, or how he’s always trying to sneak in a little skin to skin contact, whether that’s sitting an inch too close on the couch, or just holding your hand through a crowded concert. 

And suddenly Eddie is sick. He’s sick with desire, and…and… and he’s gunna throw up. He turned, high tailing it outside before anyone could notice.

It was going to mess everything up, being in love with you. Eddie had no choice but to confess, this ache in his chest would kill him otherwise, but if you turned him away, didn’t love him and sent him away from you, well, that would kill him too.

He ran to the fringe of the trees, leaning on a big oak and trying to take deep breaths. He was panicking, he loved you and he needed you, and your long legs… and he just couldn’t stand it, any of it. 

“Eddie?” you asked, softly, making him jump. He hadn’t heard you follow. 

“Oh,” he said, clutching his heart and leaning over, “this is a heart attack.”

You giggled, stepping closer until you were close enough for him to get another hint of vanilla. The nausea returned, was that normal? Nausea when a pretty girl was this close. You pressed two fingers to his neck, feeling his heart beat, as he stared down at you, doe eyes wide, and beautiful.

“I don’t think you’re having a heart attack,” you said finally, letting your hand drop to his shoulder. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

“No,” he said, too sharply and too harshly, and he corrected himself as soon as he saw your smile drop slightly, “I mean, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why?” you asked, bringing your hand off his shoulder and back to your side. He wanted it back. Wanted you to touch him, and comfort him, and stay with him.

“I don’t know what to say,” he answered, eyes falling down to the floor. “I just… I really missed you a lot, and now you’re back, and I feel…”

“What do you feel?” you asked, cheeks heating up with anticipation. You wanted him to say it, in your mind, you begged him to. Because if he would admit that he loves you, you wouldn’t have to, you’d be free to say I love you too, and kiss him, and hug him, and be wrapped in his arms again, and again, and as much as you wanted.

“I feel like…” he sighed, “I think maybe I love you,” he whispered, voice catching with immediate anxiety, and his eyes darted anywhere but at you.

“Eddie,” you whispered, taking a hesitant step towards him, but he wouldn’t look at you, like a cat that didn’t want attention, “Eddie, please. look at me”

And his eyes fell to your face, and he caught your blush, and your smile, and he fell all over again. “Well, what do you, uh… what do you feel?”

“I think…” you smiled, stepping closer until your could wrap your arms around his back, smiling up at him and he smiled down, all anxiety erased by a simple move, “I think I love you too.”

And he was free, without another thought his soft lips found yours, warm and lovely and he was everything you’d wanted. Eddie put his hand on your cheeks, cupping them softly and holding you close to him, letting the intoxicating smell of you surrounded him, totally drown out all his other senses and hesitations, and let you have him, all of him. He was yours.

It’s true, you weren’t available all summer, and neither was he. Just two idiots who fell from platonic to romantic somewhere in the high school years and just, didn’t figure it out until now. He was yours, and you were his, always had been.

A round a whopping applause cut your moment short, and you both blushed furiously at the group of losers cheering for you from the doorway.

“We’re all very happy for you guys,” Steve shouted, “but would you both come back and enjoy this friggin’ welcome home party I planned?”

#eddie x you #eddie x reader #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #stranger things s4 #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fic #bestfriend!eddie munson #eddie munson fluff

[lustlovehart]

Hiii! I've never done this before but... What if Scara and reader had a fight... Like a fight fight... and reader was seriously injured due to him being blinded be emotions... What do you think would the aftermath of this...?

A/n: Yet again, another ask that i was originally gonna js give a short thought to, turned into something longer *sigh* (I need to stop doing this).

Summary: [Angst/Comfort]He could never say sorry, even in the moments it mattered.

Warnings: Harm to reader, Scars, Unrealistic Writing of getting hit with lightning,

———

During his time in the fatui, no one exactly had the galls of stopping his rampages. The balladeer is quite famed for his regular intervals of anger, you’re no stranger to it yourself, you’ve seen him mad. it’s just…

Hes never been angry towards you.

You’d get the occasionally scoff every now and then if you uttered something he found foolish, but never has he lashed out at you to such a degree. Not to this level. He’s painfully reminded by his ignorance as soon as his hand crafted eyes lay sight upon your bare form, a body, a human body, covered in scars from lightning. Lightning he inherited, lightning he engaged, lightning he struck you with.

There’s no doubt, the silence is defeaning while you sit with him in the empty room, waiting for one of the medical professionals in the fatui to check on you.

He’s silent. It’s rare. He’s never been quiet for more than 5 minutes with you. He’s either complaining or attempting to make small talk a vast majority of the time, typically the former. But he doesn’t, he doesn’t even stare at you like he always does. You’re about to break the silence before the harbinger breaks it for you.

“You don’t look okay.” He doesn’t look at you, his vision trained on the white tile at his feet.

“Yeah. you struck me with lightning.”

…

“oh.”

It doesn’t hit you until he releases a quiet ‘oh’ from his mouth. Something you probably know better than anyone else that has been on teyvat within his 500 year lifespan.

This man can not say sorry.

“oh? Oh? Kunikuzushi put your pride away for one second.” you don’t try to hide the frustration in your voice. You truly did not mind the eccentricities the puppet in front of you holds, you never did, not even when you first met him.

He still doesn’t answer but you can see the way his face winces and widens in the same moment. Seems he got way too accustomed to ‘Kuni’ and ‘Scara’ to remember that you do in fact remember his given name.

“What else should I say to you? I’ll strike harder next time?” He isn’t getting mad, he was only infuriated earlier, but not now. You can see his demeanor start changing. Whether it be in the direction you want it to go, you’re not sure yet.

“Maybe a sorry? An apology? A “oh forgive me [Name] I love you so much?” He doesn’t answer you, he only scoffs and fall back onto the back of his chair. You don’t miss the way his fingers dig into the cloth of his clothing, probably using it as a replacement for human skin.

The man can’t breathe, but you can hear him inhale and exhale before his next words.

“i don’t know what happened. I didn’t mean to- well not at you.” It comes out softer than the other words hes said to you the entire period of time in the room. His eyes are finally off the floor, trying their best to maintain contact with your own.

Once again, all thats left between the space of you two, is silence. You look away from him for a moment, fiddling with the blanket draped over your legs. You’d like to assume that’s the closest you’ll get to an ‘I’m sorry from him’, but you can’t accept that, so you don’t reply. Ever since waking up, you never were able to see the scars on your body, only the ones on your arms. You wonder if they look hideous.

Your hand reaches behind you to your back, your fingers grazing whatever part you assume suffers scarring.

“Are you worried about how it looks?”

“No, not at all, fighting is commonplace in the fatui.”

“Lying isn’t good, you told me that yourself didn’t you?” Damn him and his pristine memory. You can never remember where you leave your keys yet he can remember things you’ve said to him years ago?

…

“No matter how scarred and beaten you are you’re still [Name] are you not?” With the way he’s looking at you, you’re sure this is another thing he’d want to keep out of the publics knowledge. “Even without your face i’d strike someone down for you in an instant.”

“Oh like you did to me?”

“…” Seems the sweet moment was ruined. You don’t mind though, it’s funny to you.

———

The weeks that followed still held some tension. You’d refused to see him for awhile. When asked by some trembling lower subordinate, one in which the harbinger had personally sent, why you weren’t seeing him, your reply made the soldier fear for his own downfall.

“He’s insufferable right now. I’ll talk to him when he shows me he’s not a man child who can’t admit his faults.” You’ve always been able to put up with his outbursts, but right now, you realize maybe you should turn up your attitude with him.

After that unfortunate event, not unfortunate for you, for the fatuss, your days have seemingly been more dull. You’ve forgotten just how eccentric the balladeer is. Waking up never seemed so boring, the puppet would either be by your side in the early mornings, or knocking on the door ready to whisk you away.

Seems that routine is coming back.

“Oh? Have you finally swallowed your ego-“

“I’m sorry.”

Seems he couldn’t go any longer without you, how sweet.

———

Tagging this, I was super confused if this could be characterized as angst w/ comfort or fluff. I just did both though.

#scara when reader used his full government name: #Reader: Kunikuzushi. Scara: 😨 #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche angst #genshin impact x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer fluff #angst/comfort #wanderer angst #genshin angst #vesperwrites

[catcze]

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

[ ###… ] modern AU, rockstar Wriothesley, gn reader, est. relationship, a lil bit of hurt/comfort, fluff, long-distance pining, lovesick & homesick wrio, kinda cheesy which is kind of on brand for me lol

By the time Wriothesley manages to get back to his hotel room and check his phone, he's pretty sure you're asleep. He hopes you are, knowing how late it must be on your end.

It's no surprise that there are several messages waiting for him— each day you've been apart, you give him something sweet to read in the evenings after a busy day of promos or after a hectic show. Something to make the distance between you seem a little less vast, to let him know that you're still thinking about him.

Even on days where he's dead tired, he'll always read them. Always let you know that he thinks of you, too.

What does surprise him is the newest text, sent at just over twenty minutes ago. Wriothesley frowns as he wonders why you're still up, and his heart only drops more when he scrolls through the messages and reads the latest thing you sent.

I miss you. I really, really miss you.

Before he can even hope that he's not bothering you, his finger near slams on the call button. You answer on the second ring, voice lacking the raspiness of a roused sleep. It makes him sigh with relief.

"Wrio?" you ask, surprised. "Are you okay? What's up?"

"I should be asking you that." Wriothesley sits heavily on the plush bed, flopping back against the pillows with all the grace of a man who just gave a two-hour performance.

As luxurious as the king-sized bed is, with its soft sheets and myriad of immaculately fluffed pillows, he can't help but yearn for the warm familiarity of your own bed and your well-loved blankets.

"Why're you still up, honey? Don't you have breakfast with your friends tomorrow?"

"...can't sleep," you murmur after a beat, voice so quiet. He hears sheets rustling, then silence again. You hesitate. "I... it might sound selfish but I miss you being here with me. It sucks that the bed feels so empty without you."

And oh, if he could, Wriothesley would crawl through the phone right this very second and wrap you in his arms— would crush you to his chest and hold you tight as he listens to your breath taper off into sleep. Would keep you against him, wrapped up in his love and adoration, until you practically have to beat him off of you with a stick.

But he can't and it's killing him.

"It's not selfish. I miss you too," he says, voice longing. "I want to go home to you so bad, sweetheart, you have no idea. Wish I could've packed you up in my bag and smuggled you here with me." He has to fight sleepy giggles at the thought.

"Speaking of— you better be prepared for a crapload of gifts when I get back. I've got a whole suitcase of stuff I thought you'd like."

You gasp, and even sounding a little crackly from the speakers, his heart does a flip. "A whole suitcase?! I wouldn't even know where to put all that!"

"We'll find space. 'm pretty sure there's some stuff we can jigsaw around." Wriothesley tries to keep the tiredness from his voice, tries to fight back the yawn. It's been so long since you've called, what with timezones and schedules getting in the way, and he wants to talk to you longer— ask how your day's been, what your plans are for the rest of the week, if there were any places you want to visit when he gets home. This call is much too short for all the things he wants to say, for all the hours he wants to spend listening to you talk.

But try as he might, you can tell he's close to knocking out without even having to lay an eye on him.

"You should sleep," you tell him, voice soothing him like a balm. "You're probably tired after your show. I saw a few videos, you know— you were so cool. I'm proud of you, Wrio."

He hums, basking in your praise. His eyelids are already growing heavy, the soft siren's song of sleep growing harder to resist. If he closes his eyes, maybe he can imagine that you're just down the hall, busy with something. You'll come in any second now, crawl into bed and slip into his arms, and everything would be right with the world.

"Thank you for... for calling. For checking up on me just because of a text." You giggle at that last bit, and (as it always seems to do) his heart flips. "I love you lots."

"Mm, no need to thank me. Just gimme lots of kisses when I get home." His tongue is growing heavier, sleep more inviting. But he manages to get one last thing out— "I love you lots, too."

Right before Wriothesley lets himself drop, you press a loud, exaggerated kiss to the receiver of your phone. He smiles.

That's how you both fall asleep: with both phones still on the line, even breaths and quiet snores comforting the other into a restful slumber.

#「 🐈‍⬛ 」 catcze.desserts #astronetwrk #wriothesley x reader #genshin impact x reader #cw gn reader #genshin impact #wriothesley #U dream abt each other btw tee hee ♡ #so tired;;; no speakings rn just vibes then eep #no editing bc got inspired by a song lol